Jodi Thomas (21 page)

Chance stood his ground. “I’m not leaving. You do the best you can with me right here.” He’d laid Anna on the table and stepped back a foot, but he would move no more.

The doctor threw his hands up in defeat and set to work, aware that Chance watched his every move. From the few doctors he’d seen in his life, Chance had about as much faith in them as he did in medicine men.

The old man cut Anna’s dress away, revealing her shoulder and most of her left breast. He washed off the blood with great care, but every time Anna moaned, Chance touched his gun, making the doctor sweat and his hand shake slightly in fear.

Finally, the old man could stand the young Texan’s gaze no longer. “Look, if you’re going to watch, you might as well help.”

After only a second’s hesitation, Chance nodded and moved closer.

“The bullet’s lodged in her shoulder. Do you think you could hold her while I cut it out?”

The blood drained from Chance’s face. Could he hold Anna while someone hurt her? He placed his large hands on her shoulder and arm.

The doctor took a thin knife from his bag. He wiped it on a clean cloth. With a determined hand, he dug into the wound. Anna screamed in pain as the blade slowly slipped into the bloody hole in her flesh.

“Talk to her,” the doctor ordered as he worked. “Tell her to be still.”

Forcing his gaze from her wound to her face, Chance noticed her lips were pulled tight in pain and her eyes were closed. “Anna,” he whispered. “Don’t move, Anna. It will be over soon.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself. Every ounce of energy within him wanted to grab her and take her away. Each time she cried out, he felt the knife twisting into his heart. “Don’t think of the pain. Think of your house we’re going to build.”

Anna tried to twist away, but he held her tightly, feeling her pain as though it were his own.

The doctor nodded for Chance to continue.

“In a few weeks we’ll have a cabin. Then I’ll start clearing the land.” Chance remembered words she’d spoken to him once. “And our only worry will be what row of vegetables to plant first.”

“Got it!” the doc yelled as he held the lead up between bloody fingers.

Chance relaxed his hold on Anna’s shoulder and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He remembered the words his Irish mother used to say when one of her children was hurting. “We’re going to get through this just fine, Anna me girl, just fine.”

The doctor poured whiskey over the wound and placed a pad of bandages on it to contain the blood. Then he wrapped her shoulder. “If she didn’t lose too much blood, she should be fine in a few weeks.”

Chance tried to pull her dress back over her bandage, but too much damage had been done to the material. Pulling off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, then lifted her so that her undamaged shoulder rested against his chest. “Thanks, doc.”

The old man waved his thanks aside as he opened the door. “Wish I had a place for her here, but there’s not a private bed anywhere and she shouldn’t be in with all the ones with fever.”

“I can take care of her.” Chance would never have left her here among the fever victims.

The doc shrugged. “And take care of that baby. It looks like you’ll have a son or daughter by summer.”

Chance had never thought of whether the baby would be a boy or girl. To be honest, he hadn’t thought of the child much at all, although Anna was noticeably pregnant now.

John Meusebach was standing on the porch. When he saw them he stepped forward, his hat already massacred by his large nervous hands. “I’m sorry, Chance. I know that bullet was meant for me.”

Chance shook his head. He could think of at least one person in this camp who wanted him dead. “It might have had my name on it.”

John followed Chance off the porch. “Either way, I want to thank you for standing up with me the way you did. These people are good people; they’ve just had their share of bad times delivered in double doses lately.”

“Haven’t we all,” Chance said as he brushed his chin against Anna’s hair.

“I want to offer you something.” John chose his words carefully, for he knew the Texan would take no charity. “My house will be empty while we go north to set up the new settlement. It’s only two rooms, but it would be better than a tent. If you like, you could leave Anna there until we get back. There’s a neighbor woman who would be happy to look in on her, and that way she could recover while you claim the land.”

Chance looked down at Anna; she’d need days of rest before she’d be ready to travel. In the meantime, he could at least build a dugout. If he were alone he could concentrate on his work and not have to worry about her. Plus, this first group of people moving out would get first pick of the land.

As they walked, John continued, “I could sure use your help when we ride out tomorrow, and Anna would have plenty of company here at the settlement. The Basse family lives next to me and they have a houseful of children—so many I’ve never seen them still enough to get a count. The boys are not much better than wild Indians, but the girls are soft-spoken and kind.”

Chance knew John’s idea made perfect sense, but there was something in him that didn’t want to let go of Anna even if she was safe. He wanted to hold her in his arms at night and wake up with her sleeping beside him. He was starting to care about her when he thought all caring had died and been buried with his family years ago.

John pointed toward a small house. “Here’s my place. I can bunk in with some folks a few doors down. It’ll be a few months or more before I get back, so she’s welcome to stay as long as she needs to.”

Chance carried Anna inside the two-room house. The main room was sparsely furnished and without the frills a wife might add to a cabin. A plump woman with a warm smile greeted him, fussing over Anna like a mother. She was like a huge hen with several chicks running unnoticed around her feet. She spoke only German, but Chance could see kindness etched into the wrinkles of her face.

John translated. “Mrs. Basse says to put Anna down on the cot by the fire. She thinks she will be warmer tonight if she stays close to it. Also, she’s leaving her older girl here in case Anna needs anything.”

Lowering Anna to the cot, Chance nodded to John. “Tell her thank you.”

Within minutes Chance was gently pushed aside so that Anna could rest. Mrs. Basse showed none of the hesitation around this tall Texan that the doctor had shown. She was used to giving orders, and expected them to be carried out. Chance’s size and his gun didn’t frighten her. She’d already faced a house full of children and come out the victor.

Leaving Anna in the capable hands of Mrs. Basse, Chance went in search of the man who’d fired the shot. Maybe John was right; maybe the shot had been meant for him. But the name that kept crossing Chance’s mind was Walter Schmitz.

It was after dark when Chance returned to John Meusebach’s house. He’d searched the town, but no one had seen the shot fired except himself, and all he’d seen was the gun barrel. Also, no one knew where to find Walter Schmitz. Some thought he stayed away because he was afraid of catching the fever. Others said they hadn’t seen him since the men left with the wagons to return to Galveston for more people. Chance couldn’t tell if they were telling the truth or just protecting one of their own.

Quietly opening the door to the tiny house, Chance slipped in without a sound, hoping not to awaken Anna. It had been a long day, and her injury had taken its toll on his nerves.

Anna was sitting up in a chair with a quilt wrapped around her. She looked pale and very tired, but Chance still had to stop for a moment to fight the gut reaction that always hit him when he first saw her. He could not believe any woman could be so beautiful. Her hair was combed around her in a cloud of brownish red brilliance.

A shadow moved in the corner. “Mr. Wyatt,” a girl of about twelve whispered. “My mom said I could go home when you got here.”

Chance nodded and the girl slipped past him.

“Anna,” he whispered as he closed the door softly behind him. “Are you awake?”

She looked up, her green eyes sparkling with reflected firelight. “I’m sorry,” she answered.

Of all the things he thought she might say, this was not among them. He crossed the distance between them and knelt at her side. She looked at him, a touch of fear in her eyes even though she held her head high, ready to face any storm.

Chance lifted her hand to his cheek. “You’re going to be all right.” The fear in her eyes when she looked at him was cracking his heart like a blacksmith’s hammer against thin ice. The thought that he might cause her any worry or fright sickened him.

“You told me to wait, but I ran forward. I was so proud of the way you stood up to the mob that when I thought it was over, I just ran to you. I’m sorry.”

Leaning forward, Chance brushed her cheek with his lips. “Don’t ever be sorry for coming to me.” He’d been so worried about her, he hadn’t even thought about her not following his orders. He now remembered how he’d threatened her if she didn’t listen to him. “Anna, you should have stayed with Cyoty, but don’t ever be afraid to come to me. Don’t you believe by now that I’d never hurt you?”

She smiled and brushed the hair back from his forehead. “I’m starting to.” Her finger trailed along his jaw and paused at his collar. Slowly, with a feathery touch, her fingers combed through his hair.

His head felt like it was caught up in a whirlwind. Thoughts were flying past him so fast he couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Her eyes had turned that soft dark green of a deep forest, the kind of color that made only truth exist in the world. “I want to hold you so desperately,” he whispered, “but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Anna brought her fingers to rest on his shoulder in a gentle caress. “I’m very tired. I feel like all the energy has been drained out of me.” Her fingers traced the seam of his shirt. “But you leave tomorrow and . . .”

Chance smiled, loving the softness in her voice and the feeling that they were all alone in the world. “And what?”

Their eyes met and held. He knew whatever she asked, he’d give her. He loved the way she looked at him straight on and didn’t use some coy flirtation to get her way. If she asked him to leave he’d have to, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Anna’s voice was filled with questions. “I would like you to kiss me as you did two nights ago.” She looked into the fire for a moment. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Mind! Chance felt like someone had just knocked the wind from him. This woman was a constant source of amazement, but he wasn’t sure of her motivation. He straightened slightly, controlling his voice enough to answer.

Anna misread his hesitation. “I know we said there would be nothing between us. And I meant it. But I’ve never been kissed like that before and I found it very curious. I’ll only ask this once; I promise not to repeat my request.” Her words seemed to be tumbling into one another. “It’s only that you’re leaving tomorrow and some say that the Indians won’t allow any white men to return.” Her head dropped slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. I understand if you don’t want to kiss me.”

Chance stopped her words, placing his finger lightly on her lips. He held it there even after she stopped talking, letting it run slowly across the fullness of her bottom lip. “No more talking.” He let his fingertips brush her face. “Come here.”

With great care he lifted her gently into his arms and carried her to the bed.

Anna lifted her head from his shoulder when she saw he was carrying her in the wrong direction. “Mrs. Basse said I was to sleep on the cot by the fire to stay warm.” This room was cold and plainly furnished with a four-poster bed and a dresser. The bed was covered with colorful quilts.

Pulling the blanket from her shoulders he laid her between the quilts. Without taking his eyes from her he answered, “I’ll keep you warm tonight.” He unbuckled his gun belt and slung it across a nearby chair. “If this is to be our last night together, I want to spend it with you in my arms.”

With sudden impatience, he pulled off his boots and shirt, then gently lay down on the other side of the bed, only inches from her.

She held back, curled into a ball under the quilts. The fire’s light was enough for Chance to see the traces of fear still reflecting in her eyes, and he almost pulled away. Part of him wanted to move away and say he was sorry for his hasty action. Part wanted to pull her against him so tight she’d never be afraid of anything in her life. God, how he hated seeing fear in her eyes when she looked at him!

“Anna, I’m not going to hurt you.” He touched her hair. “I’m afraid to even pull you near for fear of hurting your shoulder. Anna, don’t be afraid of me. We’ve lain beside one another many nights before.”

“But not in a bed.”

Chance reached up and gently pulled the quilt she was wrapped in toward him. Without a word she raised her head as he placed his arm underneath for her pillow. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a bed or the ground. I’m the same person. I don’t understand why you’re so frightened. What kind of man do you think I am? I would never take advantage of a woman, much less a pregnant one with one arm wrapped against her shoulder.”