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Authors: Maureen McKade

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BOOK: Outlaw's Bride
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The cold words returned to haunt her. She couldn't bear the thought of him being shot down, nor did she want him to leave.

“I know,” she finally said to Herman, then forced a lightness she didn't feel. “But what do I need another man for? I have you and Andy.”

They followed Clint silently for a few moments.

“I g-got a bad … feelin',” Herman said. He drew a thin hand across his face. “I ain't … l-long for this earth, Mattie.”

An icy ball of fear settled in her chest. “You're going to live to be a hundred,” she said firmly. “You just wait. Kevin'll tell you the same thing.”

She wouldn't let him die. There'd been too many changes in her life since Clint had stepped into it—she couldn't handle another one. The problem was, she had as little control over Herman's life as she had in protecting Andy from the unforeseen.

The house came into view and Clint stopped by the pump so they all could wash off most of the mud before going inside.

Five minutes later, Andy and Herman were settled at the kitchen table. Mattie knelt down in front of Andy and removed the shoe and sock from his injured ankle. It had already begun to swell, ballooning like bread dough on a hot summer day. A bluish purple bruise told her he had probably twisted it.

“I need some ice,” she said. Rising, she brushed her hands across her skirts impatiently. “I don't have any here, so I'll pick up some when I get Kevin.”

“Give me a minute to change into dry clothes, then I'll go so you can stay with Andy and Herman,” Clint said.

He left the kitchen before Mattie could reply and she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

Mattie wet a cloth with cold water from the kitchen pump and wrapped it around Andy's swollen ankle. The boy flinched and her heart skipped a beat. She hated seeing her son in pain. “It'll be all right, Andy. Dr. Murphy will make it all better,” she reassured with false cheerfulness.

“He'll do what he can, Ma.” Andy sounded so grown-up, she lifted her head to make sure it was he who'd spoken.

“He's right, Mattie,” Herman wheezed. “No need to be talkin' to the boy like he's still a tyke.”

Troubled, she remained silent. She'd never really thought about Andy growing up, and he was doing it right before her eyes. Only she had kept her eyes closed, refusing to see what was right in front of her.

Mattie dampened another cloth and pressed it against Herman's forehead. “How're you feeling?”

“Better. Just wore out, is all.”

The sound of footsteps made her turn to see Clint reenter the kitchen. He had changed into another pair of black jeans, but instead of a completely black shirt, he wore one with white vertical stripes running through the material. It clung to his chest and tapered down to his trim waist.

The sight stole Mattie's breath.

“I'm going to get Dr. Murphy and the ice now,” he said.

“Thank you,” she managed to say.

In spite of the pain he had to be experiencing, Clint strode away. Mattie followed, catching up to him as he stepped onto the porch.

“Clint,” she said.

He stopped and turned to face her in the dusky light. His long hair brushed across his shoulders, increasing the illusion of wildness about him … increasing her attraction to the unattainable.

“What?” he asked.

She moistened her lips and kept her gaze above his gunbelt, away from the Colt strapped to his thigh. “Be careful.”

He furrowed his brow. “I'll be fine.”

“Your wounds …”

Clint raised his hand to cup her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. “What is it, Mattie?” he asked softly.

She lifted her gaze and found herself trapped in the depths of his unusual eyes. How had she ever believed him a murderer … a hired gun? Wrapping her fingers around his forearm, she welcomed the comfort of the simple contact. “I would have lost him,” she whispered.

His thumb brushed her cheek in slow, sensual motions. “You would have saved him.”

“No. If you hadn't been here, Andy would have drowned. And I'd be alone again.” Her voice broke on the last word.

One tear spilled down her cheek to be caught by Clint's thumb. His mouth opened but he didn't speak. Instead, he gathered her in his arms and Mattie pressed her cheek against his chest. She clutched his shirt in her fists, clinging to him, to the haven he offered. His heat burned through the material and his heartbeat thudded in unison with hers.

His familiar scent eased the tension within her. She'd been so terrified for Clint when he'd gone down into the well. If something had happened to him, part of her heart would have died. A very large part.

The revelation shocked and frightened her, and she crushed his shirt tighter in her hands. She couldn't release him any more than she could have let go when the ground had crumbled beneath his fingers.

“I have to go,” Clint said softly, his warm breath skimming across her neck.

“I know.” She continued to hold him.

He shifted so his chin rested on her crown and he rubbed her upper arms gently. “Let go, Mattie.”

Mustering every ounce of willpower, she uncurled her fingers, leaving his shirt wrinkled. She tried to smooth the material, but nothing short of a hot iron would help. She took a step back, her throat burning.

“I'll be back soon,” he promised.

Unable to trust her voice, Mattie nodded.

As he walked away, she wrapped her arms around her waist to hold the growing inner chill at bay.

Why did she suddenly feel like she was standing on a high precipice … completely alone?

Less than half an hour later, Clint returned with Dr. Murphy and a block of ice. Clint sat down at the table to chip pieces of ice into a bowl.

Kevin checked Andy first, removing the cloth Mattie had placed on his ankle. He probed and shifted the ankle, making Andy grimace. Mattie knew her son was hurting, but he didn't cry out. Her little boy was growing into a man and she hadn't even noticed.

“It's not broken, is it?” Mattie asked.

Kevin shook his head. “Just twisted.” He squatted down so he was eye level with the boy. “You won't be able to put any weight on that ankle for a few days, which means no running around or fishing.”

Andy scowled. “What
can
I do?”

Kevin's spectacles caught the lantern light, winking brightly as he turned. “What do you think, Mattie? Maybe some early school lessons?”

The boy moaned as if in agony. “Is that my punishment for gettin' too close to the well?”

“Be glad it's not any worse,” Mattie said. “And when that ankle heals, we'll be having a little discussion about listening to your mother and helping out more around the house.”

Clint raised his head and caught her eye. She read approval in his slight nod and smile, and warmth suffused her cheeks.

“I'll even come by and bring some of my medical books if you want to look at the pictures,” Kevin said, gazing at Mattie hopefully.

Kevin hadn't been around much since he'd come back to town, but it appeared he wanted to make up for lost time. A month ago, Mattie would have eagerly welcomed his attentions, but now …

She looked over at Clint, then back at Kevin. One man tall and lean with the keen eyes of a predator, the other slightly built with compassion written in his pale complexion and gray eyes.

One man would leave and the other would stay.

She managed a smile for the doctor. “I think Andy would like that.” She paused and forced herself to add, “And I'd like that, too.”

Kevin's smile was almost puppylike. “Then I'll stop by tomorrow.”

He stepped over to Herman next and pressed the stethoscope to the old man's chest.

Herman jerked away. “You keep that thing on the ice?” he demanded. “It's cold enough to make a man go into a fit.”

Kevin ignored his complaints and, after a minute of listening to the man's heart, he straightened. “He needs to stay in bed for a day or two,” he said to Mattie.

“What's wrong?” Herman demanded.

“Your heart is beating faster than it should.”

Herman snorted. “Course it is. I pulled that big galoot from the well.”

Clint glanced up from his task. “You talking about me or Andy?”

Mattie smiled at the twinkle in his eyes as relief made her almost giddy. Andy's ankle wasn't broken and Herman's color and familiar grumbling had returned. If they only needed a couple days' rest, then they'd come out of this calamity much better than she had feared.

“You should check Clint out, to make sure he didn't reopen his wounds,” Mattie suggested.

Kevin nodded immediately, but something indefinable flickered in his eyes. Did he know about her attraction to Clint? It didn't matter—it wasn't as if she could ever
love
a man like him.

A man who helped her with chores no one else would. A man who risked his own life to save her son's. A man who, with a simple touch, made her feel more alive than she'd ever felt.

No. It was only gratitude, not love. She'd made that mistake before.

Herman started to push himself up and Clint helped him. “Thanks, Beaudry.”

“It's me who oughta be thanking you. If you and Mattie hadn't pulled me out of that well …” He smiled wryly and extended his hand to the older man. “Thank you.”

Herman shook hands with Clint. “You remember that next time you're wantin' me to help you fix somethin' or t'other.”

He winked and Clint chuckled.

“I reckon I'll head back to my room and lie down awhile, seein' as how the doc told me to,” Herman said.

Mattie smiled fondly. He was going to milk that excuse for all it was worth over the next week. “Good idea,” she said. “You want me to come get you when supper's ready?”

“Naw. I think I'll jist hit the sack. I'm pretty much tuckered out.”

Mattie gave his arm a quick squeeze as he shuffled past her. “Good night.”

Herman only smiled and continued out.

“Could you remove your shirt, Mr. Beaudry, so I can examine you?” Kevin asked.

Clint shrugged. “Sure.” He handed Mattie the bowl full of ice chips.

“Thanks,” she said. She noticed the tightness around his mouth and eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Just a little sore.”

As he removed his shirt and lowered himself to the chair, Mattie wrapped some ice in a cloth and placed it on Andy's ankle. She stood behind Kevin, her arms crossed and her hands fisted as she watched Kevin remove the damp bandage around Clint's middle.

After a few minutes of poking and prodding, Kevin re-covered the wounds with a fresh dressing.

“Can I travel tomorrow?” Clint asked.

Kevin glanced up, startled. “You're leaving?”

Clint curtained the expression in his eyes. “I planned on it.”

“You've just put your healing body through a very traumatic experience. I wouldn't be surprised if you're unable to get out of bed in the morning. Your muscles will be stiff and sore, not to mention that bullet wound.” He paused as reluctance crept into his features. “If I were you, I'd wait a day or two before leaving. I'm sure Mattie won't mind.”

Her heart skipped in her chest. “No, I don't mind.” She looked at her son, whose eyes were closing with exhaustion, and laid a gentle hand on his head. “I'm sure Andy won't, either.”

“I don't ever want Mr. Beaudry to leave,” Andy slurred.

“I'm sure he has things that need doing,” Kevin said.

“That's right,” Clint said tightly. “But right now, I'll carry Andy up to his room.”

“Do you have any of that liniment left?” Kevin asked Mattie.

She nodded. “About half a bottle.”

“Good. Give it to Mr. Beaudry so he can put some on before he goes to bed.” He looked at Clint. “It'll help with the soreness.”

“Thanks.” Clint replaced his shirt, then lifted the nearly asleep boy in his arms. Though he managed not to groan, Mattie could tell the effort cost him. She started to follow them, but Kevin's hand on her arm stilled her.

“I have to talk to you,” he said quietly.

She didn't want to talk right now, but her guilty conscience wouldn't allow her to refuse him. She'd already put Clint ahead of Kevin too many times. “What about?”

He stuffed his stethoscope in his bag. “I'm sorry I left Beaudry here with you. I thought he wasn't going to make it, so I didn't think I had to worry.”

Mattie blinked, shocked. “You mean if you had thought he was going to live, you wouldn't have left him with me?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Why?”

BOOK: Outlaw's Bride
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