One Bright Morning (17 page)

If Jubal hadn’t been so abashed at what his
own stubborn foolishness had reduced him to, he would have enjoyed
the feel of Maggie’s firm breasts pressing against his chest. He
was sorry when she wriggled her arm out from under him and removed
her other arm from his shoulder.

As soon as Maggie had disengaged her arms,
she dashed to the foot of the bed to remove Jubal’s boots.

“
I’ll take the right one off
first, since that leg’s not gunshot,” she announced.

“
Thank you, Mrs. Bright,”
Jubal said again, humbly. Lord, he hated being humble. It didn’t
come naturally at all.

The right boot came off easily.

Then Maggie took a deep breath. “I’ll try
not to hurt you, Mr. Green,” she said as she picked up his left
boot.

It’s too late for
that
, thought Jubal grimly, and his whole
body clenched from the jolt of his leg being lifted. But he ground
his teeth together and clung like a barnacle to the mattress as
Maggie wriggled the boot down his calf and off of his
foot.

She was crying again by the time she had
worked it off. She put the boots together neatly at the foot of the
bed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

“
There,” she
said.

She wanted to scold Jubal for frightening
her and making her hurt him, but she didn’t know how to put the
words together. How did you tell somebody that it made you want to
run and hide to have to do things to them that hurt them, even
though those things were going to help them in the long run? It
didn’t even make sense to her; she knew it wouldn’t make sense to
Jubal.

Jubal saw her tears and felt bad. “I’m sorry
I’m causing you more work, Mrs. Bright,” he mumbled. He was unused
to having to make apologies and he hated it.

“
Work?” Maggie said,
astounded. “Work?” She stared at him.

“
I know you don’t have time
to nursemaid me anymore,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to
ride Old Red. I’m sorry.” He was annoyed that she hadn’t just said,
“That’s all right,” or something and gone on about her
business.

Maggie’s eyes overflowed again. The
ridiculous man thought she was mad at him because he was causing
her extra work! Maggie couldn’t believe it, and her anger got the
better of her all at once.

“
My God in heaven, Mr.
Green, I don’t care about the work. I haven’t done a lick of work
since the three of you showed up here, anyway. I was scared to
death you’d hurt yourself. And you did, too!”

Jubal wished to God she’d stop crying. It
was breaking his heart to watch her and not be able to do anything
about it. He wanted to hold her and tell her that everything was
all right.

Then, all of a sudden, her words penetrated
the blanket of pain and embarrassment that was nearly smothering
him. His eyes narrowed in concentration.

“
You were worried about
me?”

“
Worried about you?” Maggie
cried, furious at his stupid question. “I was scared to
death.”

For some reason, Jubal felt a smug sense of
satisfaction begin to worm its way into his agony. She was worried
about him. It wasn’t the work. It was him.

“
Come here, Mrs. Bright,” he
said, and held out his good left hand.

Maggie wiped her eyes again and sniffed
suspiciously. “Why? I have to go get you some tea.”

“
Come here
first.”

He was speaking softly and looking at her
with those dratted sea-green eyes in a way that drew Maggie like a
magnet. She didn’t understand why she felt compelled to obey him,
but she did. She knelt by the bed next to him and her hand, of its
own accord, sneaked out to brush the hair away from his
forehead.

Jubal liked that a lot. “Thank you for
worrying about me, Mrs. Bright.”

Maggie swallowed. “You’re welcome,” she
whispered.

Jubal’s gaze was caressing her face, and she
began to feel real funny. Then his good hand brushed her hair back,
just as she had just brushed his. The touch sent whispery shivers
down Maggie’s spine.

“
Do you feel better?” she
asked to break the spell.

“
I feel like hell,” he
murmured.

“
Serves you right,” sniffed
Maggie.

Jubal grinned an arrogant grin. “I guess it
does.”

His eyes were pulling her closer and closer
to his face. She knew she was going to kiss him a second before she
did it. It was probably the shortest kiss in the history of the
world, because the moment her lips touched his, she realized what
she was doing and immediately withdrew. Then she blushed a furious
red and scrambled to her feet.

Jubal smiled at her as she jumped up, and he
couldn’t figure out how he could be feeling so good when he was
feeling so bad.

Maggie whirled around and ran like a spooked
jackrabbit into the kitchen. She pressed her hands to her flaming
cheeks as she leaned against the kitchen table, wondering what on
earth had possessed her back there. She was shaking when she put
water on to boil for tea.

“
My God, I must miss Kenny
even more than I thought I did,” she whispered to herself and her
daughter, who was galloping her wooden horse across the floor in
delight.

Then Maggie attempted to recall what Kenny
looked like. Try as she might, every time she managed to conjure up
the lean, lanky image of her kind-hearted, sweet-natured dead
husband and picture his big, loving, calf-eyed grin, that image was
immediately replaced by the tall, rough-hewn features of another
man, a man with green-flecked eyes, broad shoulders, pretty,
sun-streaked hair, and a hard face.

“
Lord Almighty,” Maggie
breathed. “What kind of disloyal, no-good person am I, anyway? I
loved Kenny. He near to saved my life. He gave me a home of my own
and my beautiful baby, and I can’t even remember what he looked
like.”

By the time the water boiled, Maggie was
crying tears of miserable regret and thinking her aunt had been
right about her all along. She wiped them away disconsolately, and
decided she’d better try to forget about her own shortcomings for a
while. Right now, she had to see what needed to be done for Jubal
Green. She could whip herself about her many weaknesses later.

She wondered if the miraculous pain-killing
bark that Dan Blue Gully had given her for her headaches would help
ease Jubal’s pain any, so she got out her carefully stored leather
pouch and laid it on the table next to the teapot. Then she went
over to stand at the bedroom door. She didn’t dare go inside again
until Dan had been found.

“
The tea’s steeping, Mr.
Green. I’m going to find Mr. Blue Gully now.”

Jubal was lying in the bed, stiff with pain.
He knew he should relax, but he hurt too much to ease his muscles
yet. He wished Maggie would come back in and put her hands on him
again. She had soothing hands.

“
Can’t you do it yourself?”
he asked. “Dan’s got work to do.”

Maggie shook her head and didn’t budge from
the doorway. She had her arms crossed in front of her and looked
mighty tough. She glared at him, mostly to keep herself from crying
in fright.

“
No, Mr. Green. Mr. Blue
Gully’s the one who knows about gunshot wounds, not me. And don’t
you dare move from that bed while I’m gone outside to find him for
you.”

Her voice had taken on a commanding tone to
cover her nervousness and worry. She was terrified that Jubal might
have reopened his thigh wound. That wound was much more serious
than the shoulder wound had been, and if it opened up again,
infection and gangrene were real possibilities. And, although they
had never discussed it, Maggie was just sure Jubal Green would
strenuously object to amputation.

Also, while she might indeed have been able
to examine the thigh, she blushed at the thought. It was, after
all, one thing to hold a naked man’s thigh when the naked man was
unconscious, fevered, and in danger of dying. It was another thing
entirely to strip a recovering and all-too conscious man whom she
had just kissed and handle that man’s naked thigh.

Jubal sighed with frustration. Now Dan Blue
Gully was going to know what an ass he’d been, too. Jubal knew he’d
never live this day down.

“
I won’t move, Mrs. Bright,”
he said unhappily. He didn’t add that he wouldn’t have been able to
get up even if he’d been so inclined. His entire body felt as
though he’d fallen off a high cliff onto pointed rocks and bounced
against granite outcroppings on the way down.

“
All right,” Maggie said.
She left him with a parting sniff that Jubal believed to be one of
contempt, but which had actually been necessary for Maggie to
swallow her tears.

She found Dan Blue Gully out behind the
barn, helping Four Toes Smith build a pen for goats. Four Toes had
decided Maggie needed goats, even though Maggie wasn’t quite sure
why. She didn’t argue, though.

As soon as he saw her, Dan put down his
hammer. “Figured you’d be coming to fetch me pretty soon,” he
commented calmly. “Four Toes told me what Jubal was up to. Fool
man,” he added.

Maggie was so relieved, she could barely
speak. When she’d left the house, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able
to find Dan or not. “He’s really hurting, Mr. Blue Gully.”

“
Of course, he
is.”

“
Do you suppose that bark
you gave me for my headaches might help his pain any, Mr. Blue
Gully?”

Dan scratched his chin and thought. He was
still thinking by the time they got back to the house.

“
Ho, Dan,” said Annie
cheerily when they stepped into the kitchen.

“
Howdy, Annie,” Dan said
with a smile for the little girl.

Maggie was almost used to Dan’s thinking
patterns by this time, so she didn’t repeat her question. She
figured he’d answer her when he got around to it.

Maggie and Dan were met by an uneasy glare
from Jubal Green when they stepped into the bedroom.

“
Danny,” Jubal said by way
of greeting.

Dan shook his head and grinned at the man on
the bed. Jubal was looking mighty white around the mouth and mighty
sweaty around the scalp. He was in obvious pain.

“
Shoot, Jubal. Don’t you
think we got more things to do around here than nurse you every
time you pull some derned fool stunt?”

“
Just check my damned leg,
Danny. Mrs. Bright’s already lectured me about trying to ride Old
Red too soon.” Jubal sounded very irritated.

Dan chuckled. “Let’s get them britches off,
then.”

Maggie’s eyes got big and she hurried to
say, “I’ll get the tea, Mr. Blue Gully.”

Jubal watched her hasty retreat with a
frown. Then he looked at Dan as the Indian worked Jubal’s belt
buckle loose.

“
She was worried about me,
Danny,” Jubal said.

“
Of course she
was.”

Jubal scowled. “I mean, she
was worried about
me
, Danny. I thought she was mad because I was giving her more
work to do. But she was worried about me.”

Dan looked his old friend straight in the
eye. “And I said, ‘Of course she was.’”

Jubal eyed him quizzically. “You mean you’re
not surprised?” Then he grunted, “God damn it, Danny, take it
easy.”

Dan was easing Kenny Bright’s made-over
trousers down Jubal’s hairy legs. They were a tight fit, because
the bandages wrapped around Jubal’s thigh made the already
bulky-with-muscle leg even larger.

“
No,” replied Dan. “I’m not
surprised.” He frowned when he looked at the bandage on Jubal’s
thigh. “You done it this time, Jubal.”

Jubal forgot about Maggie for a minute. He
tried to prop himself up and see his leg, but Dan gestured for him
to stay on his back.

“
What’s the matter,” Jubal
asked, worry tainting the words.

“
It’s bleedin’,” said the
Indian. He looked at Jubal and shook his head again. “You derned
fool.”

Jubal sighed. “Shit.”

“
Well,” said Dan, “I’d
better take a look-see.”

He began to unwrap the bandages. Then he
grabbed a quilt and threw it onto Jubal’s chest.

“
Cover yourself up,” he
commanded.

“
Why?” Jubal asked. “You’ve
seen me naked before.”

Dan looked exasperated. “Yeah, and so’s Mrs.
Bright, but she ain’t seen you naked for a long time and never when
you’ve been awake—least not so’s I know about it. And I don’t want
to maim your vanity none, but you ain’t a pretty sight, Jubal. I
think we might could spare her, don’t you?”

Jubal was annoyed and a little embarrassed
by his friend’s candid comment. “I guess so.”

When she came back into the bedroom with a
tray laden with a cup and saucer and a pot of tea, he had barely
had time to contemplate the idea of Maggie seeing him naked. By
that time, he was discreetly covered by her grandmother’s quilt and
Dan Blue Gully had already sprinkled the wound with medicine and
was rewrapping it. Jubal looked grouchy.

“
For God’s sake, be careful,
Danny,” he muttered. “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“
Yeah,” said Dan. “And who’s
fault is that?”

Jubal didn’t answer. He just glared at the
top of Dan’s shiny black head as he worked on Jubal’s leg.

“
Here’s your tea, Mr.
Green,” Maggie said.

“
Thank you, Mrs. Bright,”
was Jubal’s somewhat surly reply.

Maggie didn’t look at Jubal’s face, a
circumstance Jubal noted with interest. Instead, she turned to Dan.
When she saw that he was tending to Jubal’s naked thigh, she turned
her gaze upon the floor. Jubal grinned, but Maggie didn’t
notice.