Beneath the Apple Leaves(71)

But he stood rigid, didn’t even seem to know she was there.

“Oh, now I see how it is!” Dan snorted. “Lily taking pity on the cripple. Can’t handle a real man, eh, girl? Afraid what I got in the pants be too much for you?”

Andrew landed a right hook square against the man’s jaw and sent him sprawling into the rocks. Lily covered her mouth in shock. “Get out of here, Lily,” he ordered. But she was too stunned to move.

Dan swiveled in the dirt to his belly and slowly rose to his knees, holding his jaw in his palm. “Why, you son of a—” He lunged at Andrew, throwing his full weight upon him and sending them both in the dirt. Andrew kneed him in the side, put him on his back, but the man came at him with two quick jabs to the face, leaving him blind.

Both men rose from the ground and Dan charged him like a bull, hitting him twice in the ribs and sending Andrew to his knees, knocking the wind from his lungs. Dan pulled back a fist, but Andrew shot a kick to the man’s knee and Dan buckled to the ground. Andrew raised a fist but didn’t need to deliver the blow. For Lily smashed a rock to Dan’s skull and left him reeling in the dirt, clutching his blood-covered head.

Andrew stooped over Dan’s writhing body, his chest wheezing for air. “Hold still,” Andrew told him. Dan readied for another blow and crimped into his stomach.

“I’m not going to hit you,” Andrew huffed irritably. He put a handkerchief to the man’s cut and held it there, looked at the gash that bled badly. “You’re going to need stitches. Come back to the house and we’ll get it closed up.” Andrew reached a hand out to the man. “Keep you from bleeding to death.”

Dan smacked the hand away. He scrambled to his feet, holding the handkerchief loosely to his head. “Rather bleed to death than let a dirty Kiser touch me!”

He crawled upon the horse, the animal nervous with the smell of blood. “Frank’s going to hear about this, Lily. You just wait.” He pointed a shaking finger at Andrew. “Don’t go hitting a soldier, cripple! They’ll hang you by the neck for this. You wait!”

The horse took off at an uneven gait, the man’s slouched figure stirring the animal to the left. Andrew turned to Lily. “You okay?”

She ignored the question, reached a hand to his face. “You’re bleeding.”

With the words, the pain awakened to the surface. His ribs hurt with each inhale and his face felt like it was growing and expanding. His left eye started to close and he tasted blood in his mouth.

“I must look pretty handsome.” He tried to smile, but his swollen lip cracked.

She half-laughed and half-cried. “Come on, let’s get you some ice.”

Back at the house, Lily had him sit at the table while she smashed shavings from the icebox, put them in a cloth and held it to his eye. Claire came in and screamed.

“Hush, Claire!” Lily scolded. She knew Claire couldn’t stand the sight of blood, but she had no patience left. “He’s not hurt bad. Just go if you can’t look at it.”

Claire hurried out with her hand over her eyes.

“She gets on my last nerve sometimes,” Lily murmured as she cleaned the cut at Andrew’s mouth. As she pressed, she softened guiltily. “Not her fault, I guess. Little things set her off, you know? I shouldn’t lose my patience with her like that.”

“You’re good to her.”

She shrugged, checked the cut over his eye. She was grateful he had been there and she didn’t want to remember their last argument. Here he was perfect and for a few minutes she let the memory of what he had done in Pittsburgh fade away.

“Your ribs all right?” she asked. “He hit you pretty hard.”

“Not broken.” He touched his side gingerly, grimaced. “Least I don’t think.”

Lily started to giggle, tried to keep her lips closed. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re laughing at me?” he chided. “Here I am bruised and bleeding and you’re laughing at me?”

“I’m so sorry. Oh, God.” She held her stomach. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just remembering that look on Dan’s face when you hit him.” She erupted in titters again. “Never saw anyone look more surprised in my whole life. Thought his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets.”

He started to laugh, moaned with the jostling of his ribs. “Stop that. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

She wiped her eyes and composed herself. “Where you learn to hit like that, anyway?”

“Back at the colliery. A boy learns to fight the same time he learns how to walk.” Then, in a sudden shift, he took the ice from her hand, put it on the floor, his expression changing. “Of course,” he said tersely, “I know how you feel about men standing up for themselves. But guess this is different, isn’t it? Because it has to do with you.”

She pulled back with the tone. “What does that mean?”

“Know it was a long winter, but I doubt you forgot our last conversation. Said you never wanted to see me again, remember? Because I defended myself.”

“Defended yourself?” she questioned, aghast. “Against what?”

He cocked his head. “At the game, Lily. You heard what those men were slinging at us and you stormed out when we put a stop to it. Nice to know whose side you’re on.”