Loving Linsey (17 page)

“Daniel, say something!”

Linsey. The alarm in her voice compelled him to ease her panic. “Something.”

Dimly he heard the disturbance of pebbles, an urgent rasp against the earth. Then she was there, above him, shading him from the sun with her own body. As she bowed over him, he had to blink a couple of times to clear his blurry vision. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd seen a sheen of moisture in her eyes.

“You wouldn't answer at first, and I was afraid . . . are you hurt anywhere?”

Without giving him a chance to answer, she brushed her unpracticed hands along his body, more in an effort to soothe herself, he suspected, than out of any skill in detecting injuries.

“I'm fine. Just a little stunned.” As if to prove his fitness to her, he lifted himself to a sitting position. Against all odds, it seemed he'd escaped the fall with nothing more than a few aches and bruises.

He couldn't be so sure about Linsey, though. She appeared unharmed, but he knew from experience that looks could be deceiving. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so. What happened?”

“The bottom fell out of the basket.” He rose unsteadily, then reached a hand out to Linsey and helped her to her feet.

At her sudden wince, he frowned, his concern mounting. “I thought you said you weren't hurt.”

“I said I didn't
think
I was hurt.”

“That's your problem half the time, Linsey—you don't think.” Daniel guided her to a flat rock, knelt at her feet, and lifted her hems.

He tried to keep the examination brisk and impersonal, tried only to ascertain if she'd broken any bones. But the instant he touched her leg, a spark shot up his fingertips. He gritted his teeth and ran his palms down her calf. Relief at not finding any broken bones almost turned his own to liquid. Daniel told himself he'd feel the same about any patient, but deep down inside,
he knew it was a lie. Linsey wasn't just any patient. She was the woman who tormented his days, taunted his nights, and teased his senses until he couldn't think straight.

And he'd almost kissed her. Would have if the basket bottom hadn't given away, and the dozen-foot fall hadn't knocked the notion right out of him.

What the hell had gotten into him? He never acted impulsively. He prided himself in the ability to think a situation through, to consider the consequences before he acted. A doctor could afford to do no less since he often held a person's life in his hands.

But with Linsey, he hadn't thought. He'd just felt.

Even now, as he continued his exploration, his heart banged against his ribs and a fever simmered in his blood.

A hiss when he pressed against her ankle confirmed his suspicion. “You're ankle is sprained.”

“Good. It's nothing serious, then.”

“It's nothing to take lightly, either. You need a cold compress on that leg to prevent swelling.”

“I'll put something on it when I get home.” She pushed herself off the rock and tugged at her skirts until the panels fell in straight folds.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home.”

“You can't walk on that ankle; you'll just make it worse.”

“Well, I can't stay here. Aunt Louisa and Addie will be frantic with worry.”

“All the better reason to stay put. I have a feeling Jarvis will have half the town out searching for his balloon, and if we keep to one spot, it'll make it easier for someone to find us.”

“But if no one knows where to look, we could be stuck out here till morning, or longer. What conclusion do you think people will jump to if you and I have spent all night together unchaperoned?” She shook her head. “Stay here if you wish, but I have a reputation to think of.”

At that, she slowly started limping away.

Daniel watched her hobble along for a moment, then scanned the area with a growing sense of dread. Not so much as a stray cow from an outlying farm broke the monotony of the scrubby remoteness. Instinct told him they should stay with the balloon, but there was merit to what Linsey said. A man and a woman caught together left too much room for speculation, regardless of the circumstances. For all he knew, the damage might already be done.

Folks might be a bit more lenient if they were found making an effort to get back to town, at least. And even if her reputation wasn't at risk, it didn't seem wise being alone with Linsey for another minute, much less a full night—not after the way he'd been tempted.

That thought sealed the decision. Daniel crouched in front of her. “Get on my back.”

“You plan on carrying me?”

“I don't see any gilded coaches.”

“But we've got to be ten miles from town!”

“Do you have any other suggestions?”

She hesitated for so long that Daniel thought she planned on walking despite his advice against it.

Then with a sigh of surrender, Linsey wrapped her arms around his neck and mounted his back. Daniel curled his arms around her knees and settled her against him.

Blanking his mind, he set one foot in front of the other and began the long trek back to town. As they passed beneath the tree, a shimmer of color made him glance up at the remains of Jarvis's prized balloon, dripping from the branches like silk streamers at a holiday party. Another man's dream shredded to ribbons because of a woman. He jerked his chin in the air at the damage. “
You
can explain that to Jarvis.”

“I'll buy him another balloon.”

The offhanded remark pricked his pride and his temper. “That's your answer to everything, isn't it? You break it, you buy it?”

“If I can, yes. I never asked for the money, Daniel. My mother was the sole heir to her family's plantation, and when she married my father, she sold it and put the money in a trust for me. I can't give it back, so if I can use it making other people happy, then what's the harm? I've got nothing better to do with it.”

“Maybe you should try finding a worthy charity.”

“I tried. He wouldn't take it.”

Daniel stumbled. Was she calling him worthy or a charity?

Part of him argued that since she had so
much money to throw around, maybe he should let her pay for his enrollment. It was the least she owed him. But he had pride. Accepting an apprenticeship based on his own hard work, sharp skill, and bartering ability was an entirely different matter than taking pity money.

He'd rather earn the fees, even if it took him ten years, than accept one token of Linsey Gordon's wealth.

They traveled quite a while, Daniel focusing on nothing but the solid ground beneath his soles, the chatter of magpies nesting in the trees, and the rustle of small mammals scurrying through the grass, before he realized that the silence Linsey kept had become too quiet, and the weight on his back had grown gradually heavier.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her head rested on his shoulder. A tumble of copper curls coiled around her face, against his neck. Dark brown lashes rested against delicate cheekbones.

The shell around his heart fractured.

She looked so innocent. Sweet. Soft.

Daniel clamped his lips together to keep from moaning aloud as desire returned in ever strengthening waves. Sheer force of will kept him forging ahead. Damn her for making him aware of her as a woman! It was much easier thinking of her as a walking catastrophe—at least then he had good reason to steer clear of her.

Then again, nothing had been easy since the day his father had moved them from Houston
to Horseshoe. From that point on, it felt as if he'd fought tooth and nail for every gain in his life, while Linsey breezed through each day as if she owned it.

Hell, she practically did.

Daniel latched onto the seed of resentment, hoping—wishing—that it would distract him from the pressure of her breasts against his back, the rocking of her womanhood against his spine, the sensual slide of her thighs along his hips.

But even the old anger wouldn't rescue him from fantasizing about the woman he carried. With each torturous step, the grassy carpet looked more and more inviting. He wanted to lay her in the sweet greenery, fan those glorious curls around her face, watch her eyes darken with hunger as he peeled her gown off her shoulders and bared her—

“Daniel?”

The sleepy voice in his ear sent a tremor ripping across his skin. He swallowed once, twice. “What?”

“Isn't that Mr. Potter's wagon?”

His vision snapped into focus and relief coursed through his veins. He let her slide off his back. Though the urge to get away from her, to let his blood cool, had him ready to race down the hill, Daniel forced himself to check his pace as he went to investigate.

Sure enough, it was Oren's flatbed. Daniel recognized the smithy's emblem of a hammer and horseshoes on its side. “The wheel's broken. Traces are torn clean, off, too.”

“I wonder if he was looking for us.”

“Probably. But from the looks of this breakage, he's on his way back to town on foot, which puts him in the same straits as you and me.”

“What should we do?”

“Keep walking, I suppose.”

“Why don't I just stay here and make a bed in the wagon while you go on for help?”

“I'm not leaving you here alone. We don't even have a weapon for protection.”

“You can't continue carrying me, either. I'm just slowing you down.”

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right on that account. They were both hot, both tired, and 110 pounds or so didn't seem like much until you carried it on your back for over a mile.

Still, he couldn't leave her.

The only other choice was to stay with her and wait for someone to find them.

Some choice.

“Things could be worse, you know,” she said.

He made a sound, half humor, half agony. “How could things possibly be worse?”

“We could be dead. And you can thank my lucky amulet—oh, no!”

“What now?”

“It's gone! Daniel, I've lost my Token of Good Fortune!”

“So buy another one.”

“You don't understand. This one is special—irreplaceable! I need it to protect me. Any time I've been without it, something awful has happened!”

Oh, hell, not this gibberish again.

At the distant pounding of hooves, Daniel's head snapped up and Linsey spun around. Both spotted the man approaching on horseback at the same time.

Daniel frowned. He'd never known Bishop Harvey to stray any farther than the closest saloon, so what was he doing all the way out here?

“See!” Linsey cried. “The bad luck is starting already.”

“Doc Jr., Linsey . . .”

Daniel gave a single nod to the man reining in.

“I am so relieved to have finally found the two of you,” he wheezed, mopping his brow.

“What are you doing here, Bishop?” Linsey asked flatly.

“Why, searching for you, of course!” He dismounted his horse and swaggered toward Linsey. “When I heard you were trapped in that balloon, I jumped on the first horse I could find and came after you.” He took one of her hands and patted the knuckles. “What an ordeal you must have been through, my dear.”

She wrenched away from his touch. “Stop fussing over me, Bishop, I'm perfectly fine.”

Daniel glanced from one to the other, sensing a cat-and-mouse undercurrent. So the dandy had designs on the queen of calamity, huh? A rare spark of mischief made Daniel cross his arms over his chest. “Don't let her brave front fool you, Harvey. She's been trying to cope with the pain, but she hurt her ankle badly and needs to get back to town so my
father can look at it. Unfortunately, we are a bit stranded.”

Harvey tipped the dusty bowler set on his stringy blond hair and bowed with a ridiculous flourish. “I would be honored to assist our fiery damsel.”

Still the same pompous ass
. But at least Harvey was willing to take Linsey off his hands. “You heard him, Linsey, he'd be honored to help you.”

“That's not necessary.”

He unfolded his arms. “Get on the horse.”

“I'd rather walk.”

He should have known she'd be difficult. Nothing with Linsey was
ever
easy. “Either get yourself in that saddle, or I'll do it for you.”

“Why can't you take me?”

“Because Harvey's the one with the horse.”

“You'd really send me off alone with him?”

“With a smile on my face and joy in my heart.” Without further ado, he picked her up and dumped her in the saddle. “Get this girl out of here, Harvey. She's caused enough trouble for one day.”

While Harvey hoisted himself in the saddle behind her, it was all Daniel could do not to burst out laughing at the fury blazing in Linsey's eyes. Damn, she was pretty when she was riled.

“You'll be sorry for this, Daniel.”

She was right about that. As he watched her ride off, he did feel a pang of regret.

For not kissing her when he'd had the chance.

Linsey held herself as stiff in the saddle as possible, cursing Daniel with every jarring breath. How could he have just packed her off with Bishop without a qualm? How could he not know what a shady scoundrel Bishop Harvey was?

As his hand inched its way across her leg yet again, Linsey clenched her teeth together and said, “If you touch me one more time, you'll be the one seeing Doc Sr.—to surgically reattach your fingers.”

“Dear Linsey, you know you've been dreaming of the day we would be alone together. I know I have.”

His mouth came disgustingly close to the bare skin of her neck.

“Let me down,” she demanded.

“I've only just now gotten you where I've been wanting you. In my arms, soft, helpless—”

He made the mistake of reaching for her face. “I'll show you helpless!” Linsey grabbed his wrist and sank her teeth into the heel of his hand.