Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(8)

“She picked a poor choice, for a fact. Why didn’t she just have Ralston take her to town? She could have told the sheriff she was afraid of your pa and stayed near him until the train left for the east.”

They sat together in the ramrod’s house. Kevin could hardly bear to let her out of his sight. She seemed just as devoted to him. After they’d been married awhile and the danger had passed, they would probably loosen up, but for now, he was hanging on tight to her, enjoying every moment.

“I should find time to talk with Molly,” Kevin said. “I tried to talk to her, but Wyatt’s fever spiked, and I didn’t really clear things up. The two of us were always partners running the farm, raising Andy. I feel like I’ve abandoned her.”

“I started talking to her a couple of times, but it’s hard when we’re taking care of Wyatt. We need to get over there and let her rest.”

“He’s past the worst of the danger. We’ll start taking turns caring for Wyatt, and once Molly is rested, we can both spend more time with her. I want her to know this new family I’ve started with you . . .” He paused to kiss Win long and deep. God was truly taking care of him. God would take care of them both. “Well, she’s part of that family. Marrying you doesn’t mean she’s not still my sister, partner, and friend.”

Things had changed though. And they would stay changed. But he wanted Molly to be a part of that change.

And he’d tell her that, just as soon as he could find a minute when she wasn’t busy, and he was able to pull himself away from his precious little wife.





Four




OCTOBER 1870

I’m going to unwrap your arm today.” Molly remembered all her high-minded talk of being on her own, taking over the school, living independently.

Six weeks later, here she still was with the Hunt clan. On the RHR.

Everyone else spent time working the ranch; even Kevin was showing some skill at being a cowboy. And Cheyenne in particular was having trouble trusting her cowhands. The whole group of them seemed to be working hard and settling in.

Except her.

It’d taken some talking, but Falcon had agreed to live in the house. He couldn’t stay forever, and no one believed he would. He talked of a small cabin in the woods, and Cheyenne talked of the house her parents had lived in before her pa had died.

But with Wyatt laid up, Kevin and Win in the ramrod’s house, and Cheyenne needing all the help she could get to take up all the work left by Wyatt and their betraying cowhands, there’d been no time to move out.

They’d had a cattle drive, and Falcon had gone along with Cheyenne. Andy too. Kevin and Win had stayed around. Because it was improper for Molly to stay in the house alone with Wyatt, Kevin and Win had moved in while everyone else was gone.

Molly and Kevin had a chance to talk. Enough to make Molly worry about intruding on his new marriage. She and Win had formed a friendliness that Molly had trouble turning into a friendship. It was a small distinction, but Molly knew the difference. What’s more, it was her fault, and she knew it was rooted in the loss of Kevin as her best friend.

The cattle drive was over and done. The rustler business was behind them. They’d never gotten a satisfactory answer to who shot Wyatt, but they hoped, because there’d been no more trouble, that it had been one of the rustlers who was dead.

Falcon wanted to get moved before snowfall, which Molly understood came early in the highlands of Wyoming, early and deep.

Wyatt interrupted Molly’s thoughts. “The wrap is coming off? You’re not just saying that so you can laugh at me later when I get my hopes up?”

Molly smiled. “No, the pain seems to be gone, and six weeks is long enough for the bone to knit by my reckoning.”

Wyatt, sitting up to the kitchen table, sighed. “I can’t believe I missed the cattle drive. I haven’t done that since I was old enough to sit on a horse. Might’ve been before that. I remember Ma telling a story of carting me along on her lap when I was about five months old. Nope, I’ve never missed one until now.”

He glared at her.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t shoot you.”

“You’re the one who poisoned the others against letting me go.”

Shaking her head silently for a moment, Molly finally said, “You’re welcome.”

She untied the waist-level knot under his left arm while she talked. “The bullet wound is healed up. All you’re left with is an interesting scar.”

“Interesting?” He turned, and she realized, bent over as she was, their faces were very close.

“But the collarbone needed time to heal. Riding a horse wasn’t possible.” She resolutely ignored his handsome face. Her hands trembled slightly against the warmth of his side. The knot was stubborn, but it finally gave.

“I’m afraid it will be sore for a while,” Molly said. “Your shoulder and elbow haven’t moved in a long time. The muscles in your arm and chest may have gotten weak. But you’ll get your strength back. You’ll be fine.”

She hoped.

“How is it you, a young schoolmarm, know so many healing skills?”

“I’m sure I’ve told you.” She worked quickly to unwrap him, not unlike a Christmas present, wanting to get it done and step away from him. She’d become too aware of him while he’d been healing.