A Cowboy at Heart (13 page)

“There. Not so bad,
ja
?” A cloth pressed gently, and then she began the process of rewrapping the strips of cloth around his body. “The doctor cauterized this wound. Perhaps that deadened some of the feeling?” Her voice rose as if posing a question.

Cauterized. He held back a shudder and thanked the Lord he had been unconscious during the doctor’s visit.

Katie finished the bandaging. “There. Rest now. I will bring lunch shortly.”

Gathering the soiled strips of cloth, she left the room.
Maummi
Switzer waited until he had settled against the feather tick and then fussily rearranged the light blanket that lay across his lower half, smoothing out the folds with an expert twist. That done, she retreated to the doorway, where she turned to look at him. Her gaze caught on something, and he saw her eyes widen.

What had she seen? He turned his head in the direction in which she stared, to the small table by his bedside. There rested an unlit candle, a cup of fresh water, and…

A bottle of whiskey. Katie had forgotten to take it with her.

How long had it been since he’d had a bottle of hooch within his reach? Almost a year now. Emma and Luke didn’t keep liquor in their home, and he’d taken care not to venture into town without Luke or Colin. Not that he didn’t trust himself, but…

He didn’t trust himself.

He suddenly became aware of the smell. It was on his skin and in his hair. It had been a long time since he’d smelled like this, but not long enough for the memories to fade. If he let himself think about it, he could feel the familiar, fuzzy-headed fog of drunkenness calling to him, threatening to encircle him. It was not something he would willingly submit to again.

Did that mean he’d licked the liquor habit? When was the last time he’d looked at a bottle of whiskey and not wanted to sink into the enticing numbness it offered?

“
Uh
.”

A guttural grunt drew his attention to
Maummi
Switzer, who studied him between narrowed eyes. He started to say something about the revelation that he’d passed some sort of milestone, but she didn’t wait for him to speak. Her face set in a stern mask, she marched across the room and snatched the bottle from the table.
Without a word she turned and left the room, taking temptation with her.

Jesse stared after her, not quite sure how to react. That she didn’t trust him was obvious. Should he be offended? How could he be, when she only wanted what was best for him? If he knew her, she’d take personal charge of that liquor bottle to make sure he didn’t have the chance at a swig or so. He found himself chuckling at the idea of
Maummi
Switzer trying to sleep with that bottle tucked safely under her pillow.

“
Bass uff, as du net fallscht!
”
Maummi
Switzer barked the command from the doorway, where she stood watching what was proving to be the harrowing task of getting Jesse out of bed.

“Speak English if you want an answer.”

“Take care you do not fall.”

“
Ja
,” Katie agreed. “I do not want to sew another cut on your head. Please move slowly.”

Jesse didn’t waste strength answering her. What choice did he have but to go slow, with Jonas bearing most of his weight and setting the pace for their progress? Jesse’s good arm was draped over his friend’s shoulder while Katie flanked him on the other side, her arm wrapped securely around his waist. His legs seemed to have lost their ability to support him, and he bit back a frustrated curse when he stumbled and would have fallen if not for their holding him up.

“Can’t fathom how I could get so weak so quick.” He mumbled the comment to cover his embarrassment.

“Six days have you been in bed,” Jonas said in an unstrained voice that Jesse envied. “And you are lucky to be up now.”

“He should not be.” Katie took the opportunity to voice her protest again. “He is as stubborn as my
fader
’s goat, who insists on wandering among
Mader
’s vegetables, though she has threatened to make stew out of him.”

“A man can’t stay abed all his life.” He would have said more, but breath was at a premium just then.

Maummi
Switzer obviously agreed with Katie, but at least she didn’t voice her opinion. Instead, she stepped back to let them pass and then disappeared up the stairs mumbling something about, “Stubborn is the fool.”

They passed through the neat, sparsely furnished living room and the larger kitchen beyond. Katie opened the door, and sunshine shone through. Jesse drank in the sight of it. All of his life he’d been more comfortable outdoors than in. Given the choice, he’d choose a bedroll in the open air over the most comfortable bed in the fanciest hotel. His skin itched to feel a fresh breeze wash over his whole body, not the puny puffs of air that managed to find their way through the window of his bedroom.

By the time they lowered him into the rocking chair they had placed near the porch railing, his legs were wobbling like a newborn calf. He collapsed more than sat, and he had to close his eyes until the world stopped spinning and the pounding in his head receded to a tolerable throb. When he opened them again, Jonas and Katie both watched him with anxious expressions.

“Guess I’m not as strong as I thought.” He managed a weak laugh. “Just let me sit here a bit.” A familiar sound from across the yard drew his attention. “Rex?”

His faithful horse stood near the corner of the barn, his head high and ears pricked forward. Butch was at his side, running a brush over his back. Rex gave a second whinny and hurried across the grass at a quick trot. He came up to the porch and shoved his head over the railing toward his rider.

“Good to see you, boy.” Jesse rocked the chair forward and threw his left arm around the horse’s head. Never had he been so happy to breathe in the familiar horse scent he’d complained about during long months on the cattle trail. The sting of tears threatened, and he pressed his face against the white star between the liquid brown eyes to hide them. Rex tossed his head gently and whickered, his horsey breath warm against Jesse’s neck.

“Good boy,” Jesse whispered, and then he managed to regain composure. He thumped the horse on the shoulder with deep affection. “I haven’t forgotten that bag of oats and honey I promised you.”

“I’ll fix it up for him,” volunteered a high-pitched voice.

With a final rub on Rex’s muzzle, Jesse gave the horse a gentle shove and turned his attention to the boy standing nearby. Butch was around nine or ten and tall for his age, all skinny arms and legs. It looked as though he’d grown since getting those britches, for they fell short of his boots by a couple of inches, even though the fabric bunched where he’d cinched a rope around his waist to keep them from falling down. Bony wrists peeked from below his shirt sleeves. The eyes fixed on Jesse were filled with shadows but also with an eagerness that bordered on hunger.

“Butch has taken good care of your horse since he arrived.” Katie bestowed a kind smile on the boy. “He feeds and brushes him every day.”

“And helps with chores as well.” Jonas ducked his head at the boy, his expression approving, and he then took a backward step. “I must finish with the hogs now.”

With a quick glance that did not quite meet Jesse’s eyes, he left the porch and headed toward the barn with the manner of what might be called an escape. Jesse watched his retreating back, sorrow and irritation warring inside him. Jonas had made a point to stick his head into the sick room to check on Jesse several times a day, but only when Katie or
Maummi
Switzer was present. Not a coincidence, Jesse figured. Jonas knew he’d be pressed to explain his decision to let Littlefield get away with his thieving, and he didn’t relish the discussion.

Jesse tore his gaze from Jonas and returned his attention to the boy. “I owe you one for taking care of Rex. This isn’t the first time he’s saved my hide. He’s a special horse.”

“Yes, sir, he is. Real smart too.”

“You know, he used to do tricks in a traveling show. I’ve seen him toss an apple into a basket from four feet away, and he can dance better than me. The man who owned him before could stand barefoot on his back and shoot at a target while Rex galloped smoother than a stone skimming over a pond.” He caught a glimpse of Katie’s alarmed expression behind the boy’s head. “Don’t try that, though,” he cautioned.

Butch shook his head. “I won’t.”

Jesse didn’t think he would. If this boy ever had a streak of mischief in him, it had been buried by the avalanche of sorrow he’d suffered in his short life. “If you could mix up a mash of oats and honey for him, though, I’d consider it a personal favor.”

The boy looked at Katie, as if for permission.

“I saw a full jar of honey in the kitchen.” A smile touched her lips. “I think
Maummi
Switzer will not mind sparing some for a horse that does tricks.”

Butch nodded again, though his forehead did not lose the ever-present crease between his eyebrows.

“Tell you what,” Jesse told the boy. “You can do me a big favor, if you’ve a mind. Have you ever ridden before?”

“Yes, sir. My pa taught me when I was little, before…” His throat moved with a swallow. “I ride Preacher Maddox’s horse whenever he lets me.”

“Good. It’ll be a few days before I can climb back in the saddle.” Katie opened her mouth to protest his estimate of a “few days,” judging by her aggrieved expression. Jesse continued before she could say anything. “I don’t want Rex to get fat and lazy. What he needs is somebody to ride him every day to give him a bit of exercise.”

Hope dawned on Butch’s face as he realized what was being asked of him. “You want
me
to ride him?”

“If you’re of a mind to, and if you can spare the time from your chores around here.”

“I’ll get up before the sun comes up.” The child’s back straightened, and he turned wide eyes on Katie. “I’ll take him out before watering the cows in the morning?” He said it as a question, as though asking her permission to accept the offer.

She appeared to consider and then gave a nod. “I will inform Jonas and
Maummi
Switzer of your new responsibility.”

The first smile Jesse had ever seen on Butch’s face ignited a light in his eyes. Something stirred in Jesse’s heart to witness the excitement that made the boy rise up on the toes of his boots.

“I’ll exercise him real good, sir. He won’t get fat, I promise.”

“That’ll be fine.” A thought occurred to him. Katie had said that Littlefield’s men had been seen riding along the fence every day. That might only be a show of bluster intended to intimidate Jonas and the women, but if those blackhearted villans would shoot him in the back, what would they do to a child alone? “Do me a favor, though. Ride him that way.” He pointed toward the road that marked the southern boundary of Jonas’s property, in the opposite direction of the fence. “And don’t go too far, all right?”

“Yes, sir. C’mon, Rex. Let’s go see about those oats.”

He whirled on his boot heel and with a cluck toward Rex, he took off toward the barn at a run. Rex regarded Jesse with one liquid dark eye. Though Jesse knew horses didn’t laugh, he could have sworn Rex was chuckling.

“Go on, boy. And watch out for him, okay?”

His head bounced up and down twice as though replying in the affirmative before he turned and trotted off after Butch.

Katie’s jaw dropped as she watched the horse disappear into the barn. “I almost believe he understands.”

“Of course he does.” Jesse settled back in the rocker, fidgeting gingerly until he found a comfortable position for his injured back. Overhead the sun blazed in a cloudless sky of deep Kansas blue, but the covered porch provided pleasant shade. “I think I’ll spend the afternoon out here. It’s a far sight more pleasant than lying around in bed, don’t you think?”

She studied him a moment, eyes narrowed. Then she disappeared into the house without a word. A moment later she returned carrying a wooden straight-back chair with a basket resting on the seat. When the chair was in place by his side, she seated
herself and leaned over to pick up a piece of fabric from the basket. He watched her thread a needle with a quick, expert motion and then go to work on the fabric.

Was that where she learned how to sew? He gingerly pressed a finger along the scab on his head and indulged in a cautious breath, enjoying the earthy smell carried to him on the breeze. A few days ago he couldn’t have done that. He could barely get enough air in his lungs to keep himself alive. Katie had told him what Doc Sorensen said, that the bullet had lodged in the lining of his lung. Another quarter of an inch and it would have ripped a hole in his lung, an injury from which he would not have recovered, more than likely. The constant headache and occasional dizzy spell let him know he hadn’t fully healed from cracking his skull, but mostly the pain in his head was easy to ignore. Many a time in years gone by he’d risen early and put in a full day’s work with a pounding head left over from a night of drinking.

No, what bothered him most was the weakness in his right arm. Nearly a week and still he could barely lift it without searing pain in his back and shoulder. Worry niggled at his mind. What if Littlefield’s boys returned and he needed to hold a gun? He’d never been good at shooting left handed.