Wild Mustang Woman by Lindsay McKenna

Author:Lindsay McKenna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

“This is going to hurt,” Kate warned Sam as she sat down at the kitchen table. Stitching up animals was one thing. Doing the same for a human being unstrung her a little. Sam sat there, his coat off, the sleeve of his shirt rolled up haphazardly on his dark, hairy arm so that she could get a good look at the damage the beer bottle had done.

Sam watched Kate’s face. Her brow puckered and her mouth thinned as she gently laid his hand on a clean white towel. Most of the bleeding had stopped by the time they’d gotten home, but a good two-inch gash was laid open on the outside edge of his left hand. He felt the soft coolness of her fingers against the throbbing heat of his hand.

“You know,” he told her huskily as she prepared to stitch the wound closed, “every time you touch me, Kate, the pain in my hand goes away.”

Taking a deep breath, Kate put on thin surgical gloves so that she wouldn’t infect the just-cleaned wound. “I think this cut is making you loco, Sam McGuire.”

He grinned a little. “No, Gal, its you—your healing touch.” It’s always been you, he thought. When Kate lifted her head and looked at him, he saw tears in her eyes. She quickly forced them back and concentrated on the task at hand. Sam decided to remain quiet and watch her work. There was such gentle delicacy to Kate. He wished that she would realize that about herself. Kelly had really hurt her as a child growing up. One day, Sam hoped she’d let those tough, outer walls dissolve so that the old Kate, the real Kate he’d known and loved so fiercely, would emerge.

As she began to stitch up his wound, Sam said in a low voice, “You haven’t lost your touch, Kate. Maybe you don’t recall this, but I remember times you took care of sick and ailing animals and they always survived. Your two sisters are both in the healing arts. But you’re like Odula—you heal with your touch. You don’t need a homeopathic remedy or a natural essence.” He smiled a little, enjoying her focused care. “A healer. That’s you, Kate.”

Grimacing, Kate kept her attention on the process. Sam’s hand was so large, his flesh work-hardened She felt each of the thick calluses that over time had built up on the palm of his hand and his fingers.

“Right now, I’d like to punch Chet Cunningham in the nose. What he did was wrong, Sam. You’re going to be laid up with this hand a good three weeks. He really hamstrung you.”

“Not too much work for one-handed cowboys, is there?”

She glanced up and caught his boyish grin. Returning to her task, she muttered, “Not really. Old Man Cunningham will probably give you walking papers sooner rather than later.”

“So?” he teased. “Just lets me come over here sooner and be a crippled cowboy helping you.”

She laughed and felt the tension draining away from her. “No kidding! No post hole digging for you.

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