Forever Angels Page 5

  "Oh," she murmured. "I'm sure this will help the swelling, Flower. And I don't think I'm able to move an inch right now."

  Stone strode over and knelt on the floor. Frowning, he reached out a hand toward Tess's ankle.

  "Don't!" Tess said with a gasp, grabbing his hand. "Please don't touch it. The cold water's helping the pain."

  Stone jerked his hand free and rubbed it against his thigh. He looked up into a pair of emerald eyes a bare six inches from his own. Her breath feathered over his face and he dropped his gaze to the temptingly parted lips. They moved in speech, but he couldn't for the life of him understand what she said.

  Angela clapped her hands and glanced at Michael. "Oh, look, Michael. Isn't it wonderful? They're falling in love!"

  "In love?" Michael said with a snort. "They just met an hour ago!"

  "Haven't you ever read about love at first sight, Michael? Why, I could tell back on the hill that something was happening between them."

  "Nonsense," Michael said around his cigar stub. "You read too many books when you taught school. Love doesn't happen like that."

  "How would you know? You never got married."

  "Neither did you, Angie. Your sweetheart got killed in the Civil War. There's no secrets about our past lives between us in the state we're in now, you know."

  "And the woman you were engaged to eloped with your brother a week before your wedding," Angela reminded him, unable to keep just a touch of spite from her voice. Guardian angels weren't supposed to be spiteful. "And my name is Angela, not Angie."

  "Hummmm," Michael said. "Not Baby Doll or Sweet Thing, either, huh?"

  A guardian angel wasn't supposed to stamp her foot or blush prettily, either, but Angela did both.

  "Pa, Rain's calling you."

  "Huh?" Stone lurched to his feet. "Uh...go tell him to take care of the deer outside, Flower. I...we...where's your scissors?"

  "In my sewing box, where they always are, Pa."

  Flower headed for the door as Stone stared around the kitchen, a frown on his face.

  "Why do you want scissors?" Tess asked.

  "Your pant leg," Stone murmured in a distracted voice. "It needs split up the side. Gotta be hurting you, that swelling."

  "Most women keep their sewing boxes in a closet," Tess prodded when Stone continued to stand over her, his thumbs hooked into his back pockets.

  "Closet. Yeah, probably in her bedroom." He hurried out of the kitchen, catching his toe on the door jamb as he passed.

  Tess shook her head at the muttered curses she heard echoing back from Stone's path through the bedroom. Good grief, he was awkward in the house. On the hill, his movements had held a panther-like grace for even such a large man. Of course, the spaciousness of the kitchen had seemed to recede as soon as he walked through the door.

  She heard a loud crash and ducked her head to hide the smile on her face when she heard Stone's clumping footsteps returning to the kitchen.

  "Hurts pretty bad, huh?" Stone asked as he stopped at her side, misreading her bowed head as an act of pain. "It'll probably ease a little if we can get that tight pant leg split."

  He knelt again and pointed the scissors at her leg. Carefully he tried to work the scissors point under the taut material, where Tess had pulled the denim up a ways.

  "Uh...," he said when Tess gave a little gasp of pain. "Uh...maybe you ought to try to do this yourself."

  "Maybe I should," Tess said, reaching for the scissors. She lifted her foot from the basin and laid her lower left leg across her right knee. Water dripped onto the floor, and she quickly shifted to hold her foot over the basin, her knee bumping Stone's chest.

  "Sorry." Tess carefully worked the scissors point under the material and began cutting beside the seam in her jeans. The scissors were sharp and the material fell away easily beneath the blades. She cut well beyond the swollen flesh, up to her knee.

  "That's far enough, damn it! What if Rain comes in?" Stone grabbed the scissors and threw them on the table, his eyes never leaving the shapely, exposed calf.

  Tess rolled her eyes upward and huffed out an irritated breath. "Maybe you should get me a towel to cover my leg, so I don't offend your Victorian sense of propriety!"

  Ignoring the sarcasm in her voice, Stone rose and grabbed a linen towel from a hook beside the stove. He tossed it to her, then strode back to her side.

  "Here. Don't cover up the ankle. Let me look at it."

  Tess rolled the towel back and Stone bent over her ankle, which was swollen almost as large as her calf and covered with dark bruise splotches. She heard him give a grunt.

  "You're going to need a doctor for this. It sure as hell looks broken to me."

  "It feels like it, too," Tess admitted, wincing in pain when she attempted to move her foot. "But you said there wasn't a doctor nearby."

  "Not near, like I told you. But there's one in Clover Valley, the nearest town. It'll take me about four hours there and back. What happened? Did your horse throw you?"

  "Uh...no. I...I fell."

  "Fell off your horse?"

  "Mr. Chisum...."

  "Stone. Looks like you're gonna be here a while. No sense standing on formality."

  "Stone, then. You mentioned medicine for the pain?"

  "Yeah. Let me see what I can find."

  Stone walked over and opened a cupboard door, rummaging inside. He pulled out a box of medical supplies and held up a bottle to the light from the window.

  "Laudanum's gone," he said. "I'll get some more from the doc." He tossed the bottle back into the box, where it landed with a clink, and reached into the cupboard again. Pulling out a brown jug, he set it on the countertop and picked up a tin cup on the drain board by the sink.

  After pouring the cup half full, Stone gave it to Tess and watched her sniff tentatively at it.

  "If you want, I'll have Flower make a pot of coffee to mix with that before you drink it," he said.

  "No. This is fine." Tess took a sip of the whiskey and blinked her eyes at the burning fumes, then coughed at the fiery sensation when the whiskey hit her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed another large gulp before she set the cup on the table. A drop of liquid dribbled down the side of her mouth and she flicked out her tongue to catch it, glancing up at Stone when she heard him give another grunt.

  "Thank you. I...."

  "I'll go get the damned doctor!" Stone left the kitchen in two strides, banging the screen door loudly behind him and leaving Tess staring after him in astonishment.

  "Oh, well," Tess said with a shrug. "At least he didn't keep after me about how I hurt my ankle."

  ***

  Chapter 6

  Tess lowered her ankle back into the basin, then stared around the silent kitchen, mentally refuting the evidence before her eyes. It just wasn't true. It couldn't be true.

  Heck, Granny had cooked on a wood stove in West Virginia until the day she died fifteen years ago, turning out crispy fried chicken and flaky blackberry cobblers. Even Granny's log cabin, though, had pumped-in water. Cold water, and the pipes sometimes froze during an especially hard winter, but the water was clear and pure, bubbling from an artesian well on the mountainside.

  Despite the hardships, spending summers and school breaks with Granny had been the only bright spots in Tess's childhood. Running barefoot through the wildflower-dotted mountain meadows. Picking wild strawberries, blackberries and grapes, which Granny preserved into jams and jellies lined up on a shelf in sparkling jars. Even hoeing the garden rows until calluses formed on her palms and pulling weeds until her back ached hadn't seemed like hard work — especially the following winter, when Tess opened a jar of vegetables or jelly that Granny sent back for the family each fall.

  Evenings on the porch, rocking in her own chair beside Granny — watching the brilliant mountain sunsets and mists crawling up the hillsides, her hands automatically shelling peas or snapping beans. Those evenings were for dreams and discussions — heartfelt sharing with the elder
ly woman, who seemed to be able to see straight into Tess's heart.

  If not for Granny, Tess would probably still be back in the West Virginia mountains, the only break in a week of drudgery a bottle of beer at the nearest honky tonk. Granny had given her the strength to stand up to her brothers and father, withstand the pull of her eager young body to succumb to the sexual stirrings in her teens — escape first to Boston on her scholarship, then to New York City, the city where it seemed all dreams were possible.

  Snooty. Thinks she's better than us. How many times had Tess heard those words whispered behind her back in school?

  Tess shifted on the wooden bench and blinked her eyes, bringing the kitchen back into focus and frowning as the picture of the layout of the buildings beyond the cabin replaced the nostalgic vision of her New York apartment in her mind. She'd had no trouble identifying the purpose of the little shack with the half moon on the door between the house and the barn. Granny hadn't had inside facilities, either. And it was definitely becoming necessary for her to get to that outhouse.

  The screen door opened and Flower entered, her arms full of clean sheets.

  "I'm going to change my bed, Miss Foster. It'll be several hours before Pa gets back, and you need to lie down."

  "Thanks, honey, but...."

  Flower sped through the kitchen, leaving Tess's words hanging in the air. Lordy, that child had energy. If she only had enough to help Tess to the outhouse — or maybe there was a chamberpot somewhere, like Granny had kept under her bed.

  A movement on the pine floor caught Tess's attention and her eyes widened in horror. The monster on the floor picked up one hairy leg and waved it in Tess's direction, then continued on its path, directly toward Tess. Her scream echoed in the kitchen.

  Frantically Tess scrambled onto the bench, splashing water from the basin, then levering herself onto the tabletop with her good leg. The monster ignored the spilled water, slowly lifting first one hairy leg, then another as it crawled toward the bench she had vacated.

  Tess screamed again as Rain burst through the screen door and Flower also pounded back into the kitchen from the bedroom. The next thing she knew, Flower was perched beside her on the table top, her own squeak of dismay cut off as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Rain stared at the two females, then followed Tess's pointing finger to the floor. He set his rifle beside the door and his brown eyes twinkled as he grinned at the two frightened figures curled on the table.

  "It's just a tarantula. Must have slipped in the door. It's too slow to bite you if you stay out of its way. Now, if it was a scorpion...."

  "Get it out of here, Rain!" Flower shouted. "I hate those things!"

  "Kill it! Right now," Tess demanded. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the huge, dinner-plate sized body creeping across the floor. One hairy leg, then another propelled it, almost in slow motion. It skirted the puddle of water and lifted one leg to caress the wooden leg on the bench.

  "Rain!" Flower screamed.

  "Better hush up," Rain said with a laugh. "Those things can jump, you know."

  "I know!" Flower shrieked, scooting closer to Tess. "Get it!"

  Tess flung her arms around Flower, her eyes widening in horror as the tarantula placed yet another leg against the bench. "Can...can they really jump?" she asked through her dry mouth.

  "Yep," Rain admitted. "This one looks like it might even be able to jump ten feet. I gotta be careful, if I want to get close enough to catch it."

  "Rain! Do something!" Flower pleaded.

  The tarantula started up the bench leg. Tess and Flower screamed in unison and skidded from the table top. Flower paused just long enough to grab Tess's arm and pull it over her shoulder before leading a furiously hopping Tess into the next room. She kicked the door shut behind her.

  Tess flung herself onto the narrow bed, biting her lips against the pain in her ankle and almost impossible to control strain against her nearly overflowing bladder.

  "Flower!" she gasped. "A chamberpot. Do you have...?"

  Flower reached beneath the bed and pulled out a ceramic bucket.

  "You get that darned thing out of my kitchen, Rain!" Flower yelled at the closed door while she fumbled to help Tess unsnap her denims.

  Tess pushed Flower's fingers away and pulled down her zipper. "Oh. Flower, I don't know if I can make it."

  Bracing herself with her good leg, Tess lifted her rear and slid the denims down. With Flower's help, she managed to scoot from the bed onto the chamberpot, a bare second before a gush of liquid splashed into the pot. Closing her eyes in relief, she emptied her bladder.

  When Tess lifted her eyelids again, she saw Flower opening the door a crack to peer through. Suddenly another yell sounded in the kitchen, and then a clatter.

  Flower shut the door and turned back to Tess, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Guess he's not as brave as he thought he was. Serves him right."

  "What happened?"

  "It jumped, like he said it could," Flower said with a giggle. "He was trying to catch it with the basin and it jumped right at him. It landed in the basin and he threw it against the screen door. Now he's trying to figure out how to get the door open with that spider sitting in front of it."

  "Why doesn't he just kill it?"

  "Rain doesn't believe in killing unless it's necessary," Flower explained. "Even when he kills animals for us to eat, he thanks the Cherokee spirits for the gift of their life."

  "But that thing's dangerous, Flower!"

  "Not really. I mean, it would hurt if one bit you, but it's not like a rattlesnake's bite, that could kill you. Rain'll probably go out the other door and prop the screen open, then try to get the spider to leave on its own."

  Tess dropped her head to her chest and shook it. Tarantulas. Rattlesnakes. Scorpions. Where in the world was she?

  Before she questioned Flower, though, she had to get up off this pot.

  "Can you help me onto the bed, Flower?" she asked.

  "Sure. Just let me finish with the sheets."

  "Stop it, Michael! It's not funny!"

  Michael grabbed his stomach and rolled back onto the cloud, his wings fluttering against his shaking shoulders and his laughter nearly drowning out Angela's censuring voice.

  "Not...not funny?" he gasped. "Did you see them scoot off that table? I never saw two females move so fast in my life!"

  Angela lifted a hand to her mouth. Still, a little giggle escaped. "I thought it was funnier when it jumped at Rain. Did you see the look on his face?"

  "Yeah," Michael admitted with a snort. "If that thing hadn't hit the basin, it would have landed right in that boy's mouth!"

  "Ugh," Angela said with a shudder. Then she giggled again, her next giggle erupting in full-fledged laughter that, had she still been teaching school, would have left her students wide-eyed in amazement. The prim and proper Miss Angela never broke down into unrestrained emotion.

  A moment later, Angela opened her eyes to find herself lying beside Michael on the cloud, her shoulders still shaking with abating laughter. Glancing at Michael was a mistake. He winked and guffawed, and Angela broke up again.

  Finally Angela sat up and clutched at her aching sides. "Michael, we have to stop this. We're supposed to be keeping an eye on Tess."

  "O.K., boss," Michael said agreeably. "What's next on the agenda? Is she off that pot yet? I ain't about to spy on a lady when she needs privacy."

  "Hum, of course not. Let me see. Oh, she's getting undressed and into one of Stone's nightshirts. Why, it looks almost brand new."

  "He probably sleeps naked. Me, I never could see the sense in getting dressed all over again to go to bed."

  "Michael!"

  "Oh, come on Angie. Don't tell me you never slipped off that heavy nightgown on hot nights. Wallowed in some nice cool, fresh sheets."

  "It got awfully hot sometimes in Kansas in the summer."

  Michael slipped her another wink.

  The bedroom door opened and Tess
stirred, slowly returning to wakefulness. A dream. Such a funny dream she had been having. She was going to have to quit reading those time travel romances.

  The door squeaked as it opened wider, and Tess's eyes popped. A small, round man entered the room, carrying a black bag.

  Oh, no! It wasn't a dream!

  Tess stared around the room. Flower's room. She glanced down at her swollen ankle, pillowed at the foot of the bed. The angry, dark blotches confirmed the pain.

  "Well, now, miss," the man said as he set his bag on a bedside table. "I'm Doc Calder. Stone tells me that you've hurt your ankle. Let's get a little light in here, so I can see better."

  Doc Calder lifted the glass chimney on a kerosene lantern sitting in a sconce on the wall and picked up a match from the tray on the table. He turned the wick up slightly, then scraped the match. After replacing the chimney, he looked down at Tess to see her eyes centered on the lantern.

  "Wonderful thing, kerosene," he said. "And I heard there's some guy back east who can make light appear in a glass bulb. Ain't that gonna be something? Wonder what he'll call it?"

  "Electricity," Tess murmured.

  "See you've heard of it, too. Funny name, that one, though. 'Lectricity." He slowly shook his head.

  "Her ankle, Doc."

  Tess peered past the doctor to see Stone standing in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the door jamb. Immediately she realized the too large nightshirt had fallen from one shoulder, barely held in place by a pert breast. Good grief. She was covered a heck of a lot more than in her bikini, but for some reason a hot flush stole up her cheeks. Grabbing the collar of the nightshirt, she jerked it back into place.

  She could have sworn that Stone's lower lip immediately shot out into a pout.

  The doctor bent over Tess's ankle, hiding Stone from her sight. He tsked and muttered almost to himself, gently prodding the swollen flesh with tender fingers.