Chasing Clovers (12 page)

Angel had taken her to see the doctor earlier that day. He'd told her Emma had Scarlet Fever, which explained the rash on her body. He'd also said that there was nothing that could be done, other than to bathe her every few hours and hope the fever broke.

Angel filled the basin with cool water for the fourth time and stripped Emma fr
om her damp nightshirt. She laid her in the large bowl. Her tiny body tightened, and her arms flailed about splashing water all over. Angel's heart ached with every beat it took. She ran the damp cloth over Emma's cheeks and hair once more as she tried to bring the fever down.

She
bit her lower lip hard, and wept, "Emma please…please get better."

"
Quiet that baby down." Miles banged on the door.

Miles
let Angel rent one of the upstairs bedrooms in the Glass Slipper. He allowed Emma there too as long as they were quiet and didn't interrupt the other girls while they were with their clients. The arrangement had worked, until yesterday, when Emma got sick.

"
Sorry Miles, Emma's real sick," she called through the door, picking Emma up out of the water and wrapping a thin blanket around her wet body.

"
I don't care. Keep her quiet, or you'll both have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

She heard him leave, his footsteps
heavy on the stairs as he went down them. She paced the length of the room, her daughter wailing in her arms.

"
Hush my darling, mama's here."

Emma coughed, and her pudgy hands wiped at her tired eyes. Angel unbuttoned her blouse and
tried to feed her, but she turned her head and screamed louder. She hadn't eaten in two days, and Angel worried she'd starve to death. There were no tears on her cheeks, even though she had cried most of the night. A white film coated her lips and tongue. The doctor told her that those were signs of dehydration, and she grew frantic as she tried to push Emma's lips to her breast.

"
Eat baby," she begged, but Emma merely whimpered, refusing to suckle.

Angel grasped
the cool cloth beside her and placed it on Emma's forehead. Angel tried to quiet her, but her little girl kept right on screaming. Every so often her tiny body would stiffen. She'd hold her breath and then let out a shriek so loud that Angel was terrified.

Sobbing now, Angel let the tears flow freely down her own cheeks. How was she to help her little girl? How could she make her
better? She was lost, and didn't know what else to do. Exhausted, her legs no longer able to hold her up, Angel lay on the bed, Emma cradled beside her, mewling, her body listless. Her little girl was burning up. The cloth no longer cold, she removed it from her daughter's face.

"
God, please make my baby better," she prayed, kissing the top of Emma's head.

Not knowing what else to do, she hummed a lullaby until they
fell asleep.

Angel awoke in the night
. Something was wrong. The room was black, the lamp having burned out. She searched the bed for Emma. Her hand rested on her chest. She was cold and still. Angel gave her a little shake. Nothing. Terror seized her, and she hastily lit the lamp beside the bed. When she gazed down at her daughter, a lamenting moan that she did not recognize as her own was followed by a blood curdling scream. Emma was dead.

John was beside her in seconds, as horror erupted on her face.

"
No, no, no," she moaned. "Not her, please God, not her."

Livy thrashed on the bed
, rolling from side to side. He held her down, afraid she'd hurt herself. She began to cry, and then to sob―a wrenching sound, from deep within her soul.

John had to wipe a tear from his own eye as he watched her body convulse. Her face contorted in misery, and his heart twisted in pain for her. He wondered what had happened in her life to cause her such agony.
Without hesitating, he laid down beside her, took her in his arms, and held her until she slept calmly again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Livy woke to the sound of rain on her bedroom window. Shivering, she pulled
on the blanket, but something heavy lay across her chest. She opened her eyes and was mortified to see John beside her.

His arm draped
over her and his hand rested on her breast. She pushed his arm away, the sudden movement sending a jolt of pain up her leg. Biting her lip, she tried to stifle the moan that escaped past her lips as she inched away from him. He stirred beside her, and she slumped onto her pillow, shut her eyes, and pretended to sleep.

"
I know you're awake," he said, his voice groggy from sleep. He stretched his long thick arms above his head and yawned, then snuggled back into her.

She
stiffened.

"
Could you please get out of my bed, Mr. Taylor?" she asked, even though she was unsure if she wanted him to go. Surprisingly, she felt safe and warm with him beside her.

"
Just practicing for the real thing." He opened his mouth wide to yawn a second time. Then laying his arm on her stomach, he made small circles with his fingertips.

Her body gave a tiny shiver as her most precious place began to ache.
"Stop that." She pushed at his arm. But he didn't move. Instead his circles grew wider and wider, torturing her. Long fingers skimmed the bottom of her breasts sending a shock wave rippling through her body. Her nipples hardened from his touch. Afraid of what might happen next, she bolted up. Groaning, she dived for her knee as it pulsed.

He
was bare-chested, wearing only his pants. She couldn't help but gawk at him half naked beside her. His hard chest was carved with tight, bronzed muscles. It wasn't until she stared into his heated eyes that she realized she wasn't wearing her dress from the day before. She wore her chemise, which was thin from wear, and she was sure he could see through it. She yanked on the sheet to cover her chest.

"
How did this..?"

"
I took your dress off last night," he told her, no hint of an apology on his lips.

"
I could've slept in it for goodness sake."

He shook his head while he got up and began buttoning his shirt. He motioned to her swollen leg.
"Had to keep an eye on that knee, and I couldn't do it with all that frill and lace you had goin' on with that thing you call a dress."

"
Really," she huffed. "I'm sorry you find my attire inappropriate for a
ranch.
"

"
Never said that." He went to her dresser, dunked his hands in the basin and splashed water on his face and hair. Instead of reaching for a cloth, he shook his head like a wet dog, splattering water all over the wall. "That felt good." He winked at her.

"
Get out." She pointed to the door. In doing so, she pushed the sheet onto her lap.

He
laid his hand on his heart. "Why, Miss Green, you've hurt my feelings." His gaze came to rest on her chest. The displaced sheet gave him a clear view of her cleavage, and she scrambled to bring the blanket back up.

"
I've taken care of you all night. Even slept beside you, and we're not even married yet." He batted his dark lashes. "I do believe you've compromised me."

S
he threw her pillow at him. "Get out of my bedroom."

John
picked the pillow up off of the floor. He brought it to his face and inhaled loudly. "Mmmm, smells just like you, piss and vinegar."

Her mouth dropped open.
"You…you." If her leg hadn't been so sore, she'd have gotten up and given him a swift kick in the ass.

He
stalked toward her. His eyes, dark and dangerous, stared straight into her own. Afraid, she sunk back into the bed. "What am I?" he asked. "Gallant? Handsome?" He was an inch from her face now and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

She glared at him.

"
Do I make you forget yourself when I'm near?"

"
You do make me feel something," she told him sweetly.

The corner of his mouth curved up and he gave her a cocky smile. "Oh yeah? What's that, sweetheart?"

She
batted her eyes, mimicking his earlier behavior. "Sick."

A scowl formed on his tanned face, and Livy thought she'd pushed him too far when he muttered, "You ungrateful little wench." Then angling his head, he kissed her.

His lips were
soft as they moved over hers. His tongue licked at her bottom lip, probing to get inside. She couldn't help the low moan that escaped past her lips, and he deepened the kiss. His hand came to rest on her cheek and his thumb stroked her soft skin. Her arms circled his neck and her lips began to move with his, when he pulled from her.

Breathing hard, he whispered against her moist lips, "You, Miss Green, are a liar."

She
was still thinking of their kiss when she heard his rude comment. Stunned, she stared back at him. Anger replaced her shock, and without thinking she slapped him hard across the face. "Get the hell out of my room."

"
You know, I don't like liars."

She went to strike him a second time, but he was too fast for her. He held her wrist with his massive hand. "Once was enough," he growled.

"
Once is never enough."She yanked her arm from his grasp.

He reached for his hat. "Tsk, tsk."

"
Go to hell." Tears threatened to fall.

"
Have yourself a good day, Miss Green. I know I will."

Whistling, he strolled away.

She
buried her face into her pillow and screamed. Oh how she hated that man. How dare he touch her? How dare he think she encouraged him? And what gave him the right to kiss her like that? She fell back against her pillow, and winced as pain sliced through her knee. She ground her teeth. The next time that mule tried to kiss her, she'd bite his damn tongue off!

John came down the stairs, happy and refreshed. Ezekiel stood at the table dishing up bacon and eggs for Ben and Emily.

"
How's Miss Livy?" Ezekiel asked.

"
She's fine. Back to her old self," he said.

"
That's good to hear. Maybe I'll take her up some breakfast."

"
I think she'd like that." He dug into his own bacon and eggs.

Someone knocked on the back door and before anyone could get up to open it, Clive strode in
.

"
Was wonderin' when you'd get out of bed," he said to John.

"
Well, I thought I'd make you work for a change."

Clive dished up a plate and sat down. "Rusty's gone."

"
Figured as much." He picked up the coffee Ezekiel had placed in front of him and took a sip.

"
I believed him, John."

He'd thought of the man last night, and still felt guilty for having to fire him. "I did too. But you know I had no choice in the matter."

"
What happened to your hand?"

John had forgotten all about his hand, and glanced down at the bandage he
'd wrapped around it. "Had a run in with the barn last night."

Clive stared at his arm. "If not Rusty, then who would want to hurt Livy?"

"
Been askin' myself that same question all night."

"
Come up with anything?"

"
Nope." He glanced up at Clive. "You?"

"
Haven't a clue."

"
One thing I can't stop thinkin' about is why someone cut that cinch?"

"
Thought of that too and don't rightly know."

"
Well, we'll have to keep a close eye out," he said taking a bite of his breakfast. "No one can be trusted, not anymore."

"
I agree."

John glanced over at Ben beside him and noticed his plate had been untouched. The bacon and eggs were moved around and mashed together.
"Not hungry, Ben?"

"
Not really. My stomach hurts." Ben kept his eyes on his plate.

John
felt his son's forehead. He wasn't warm. "Well, maybe you should stay in the house today. You can help Miss Livy if she needs anything."

The boy
's eyes watered, and his bottom lip shook.

John could see he was about to cry, and nudged his shoulder.
"Livy will be all right son. She needs to lie in bed for a few days."