Chapter Eight
Morgan was thankful Mr. Barnett had the doctor there to greet them when they arrived at the way station. Rose had slept most of the way, mostly due to Morgan dosing her with a small amount of whiskey every time she awoke. He fully intended to be in the room while the doctor examined her, but the look on Mrs. Barnett’s face silently conveyed she wasn’t keen on the idea.
“You’ll stay with the doctor?” Morgan asked Mrs. Barnett. The doctor seemed like a decent sort, but Morgan wasn’t going to take any chances where Rose was concerned.
“Every second,” Mrs. Barnett replied primly.
Mr. Barnett understood Morgan’s concern, and put his hand on his shoulder. “You can be sure my wife will take care of your Rose. While you’re waiting, let’s get that telegram to the sheriff.”
Morgan didn’t correct his reference to his Rose. Let them think she was his. But he gave the doc a hard look and said, “You’d better take good care of her.”
The doctor looked the big man up and down. He couldn’t imagine anyone being so foolish to anger this cowboy. “Mrs. Barnett and I will look after her.”
Morgan knew he’d made his point, and he walked away with Mr. Barnett. After he sent his telegram, Mr. Barnett told the men where they could wash.
Morgan stripped out of his dust-covered shirt and tossed it by one of four huge pails of clean water. The pails were situated on top of a long wooden table outside the back door of the house. He was thankful he had one clean shirt in his saddlebag. “I don’t think I’ve eaten so much dust since I drove cattle from Texas.”
“It makes you appreciate being at the ranch and bathing anytime you want,” Murph said, claiming the pail of water next to Morgan’s.
Morgan dipped his hand in the cool, clean water. “This feels good.” He picked up the bar of soap, dunked his head and started scrubbing his hair. “Speaking of the ranch, I want you and the men to go on back there. I’ll stay here with Rose, and if she’s up to it, we’ll leave on the next stagecoach in two days.”
“You think it will be safe for you two to travel alone?” Murph asked.
Morgan soaped his torso as he considered Murph’s question. He knew Murph was asking him if he thought Frank would be back. He didn’t really want to talk about Frank Langtry while he was enjoying the first bath he’d had in days. Maybe he couldn’t really call it a bath, but it was the next best thing. “I’ll be ready for anything. I don’t know what Frank will do, but one thing is certain, he didn’t care enough about Rose to see if she was seriously injured. I don’t think he has a reason to hang around.”
“We both know it has been his hatred of you that kept him close to Whispering Pines all these years,” Murph said.
Morgan couldn’t disagree with Murph. “So you think he’ll come back to Whispering Pines?”
“I think Frank hates you so much that he won’t be happy until you are dead. He just wanted to draw out the process before he shoots you in the back, or summons the courage to call you out. Unless he gets whiskey brave one day, I don’t think he’d ever call you out. That means you’d best watch your back. I wouldn’t put anything past Frank. Nothing matters more to him than hurting you; not Granny, not Rose, nothing.”
“I should have killed him years ago,” Morgan said flatly.
“You almost did.” Murph remembered the day he, along with three other men, had to pull Morgan off of Frank Langtry.
The doctor walked out the back door and approached Morgan. “You were right, Mr. LeMasters, your Rose has several broken ribs. She’ll be uncomfortable for a few days, but she’s going to be fine.”
“I was getting worried since she wasn’t eating anything,” Morgan confessed.
“She’s promised she will eat something tonight,” the doc told him.
“Will she be able to travel on the next stage?” Morgan asked.
“I think she will be fine. Just make sure she doesn’t bounce around too much.” The doc smiled at him when he added, “You probably won’t even have to give her more whiskey.”
“It’s all I could think of to help her rest,” Morgan said.
“The rest probably helped her more than anything,” the doc replied.
Morgan pulled some bills from his pocket. When he handed them to the doctor, he said, “Thanks for being here, Doc.”
“If you should need me before you leave, just send for me.”
Mr. Barnett joined them and handed a piece of paper to Morgan. “You received a response from the sheriff in Whispering Pines.”
Morgan finished reading the telegram and looked at Murph. “Jack was shot and Granny is caring for him, and he says she is worried about Rose. No sign of Frank.”
“I’ll see them as soon as we get home,” Murph said.
“We won’t be far behind you. Tell Granny to rest easy, I’ll make sure Rose will arrive safe and sound.”
When Barnett and the doctor walked back inside the house, Murph looked at Morgan and arched his eyebrow. “Your Rose, huh?”
“He jumped to that conclusion.”
“Could be because you hover over her almost as much as you do Faithful.”
Morgan chuckled. “Are you comparing Rose to my horse, Murph?”
Murph wasn’t about to let him evade the question. “You know what I mean. You’ve never paid that much attention to any woman.”
“I was never around a woman with busted ribs before.”
“Busted ribs or not, I think you are sweet on Rose,” Murph said.
Morgan toweled off his chest and arms. “Are you forgetting I’m the man who intends to hang her brother?”
“Nope. But where matters of the heart are concerned, logic slips away.”
Morgan pulled out his straight razor and soaped up his whiskers. “Murph, if I didn’t know better, I would think you are turning into a philosopher.”
“I don’t have to be a philosopher to see how you watch Rose. You remind me of a hungry wolf every time you look at her.”
Morgan didn’t have a response to his comparison. He probably did resemble a hungry wolf when he looked at Rose. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was curious about her opinion of him. No matter how many times he told himself it shouldn’t matter, it was important to him.
Clay and George walked to the wash table, so Murph didn’t say more about Rose. Morgan told the men of his plan to stay behind with Rose until the next stage.
“I guess I’m forced to travel by stage, so I’ll be riding with you,” George said.
“I can stay with Rose and ride the rest of the way with her. I’m sure you need to get back to your ranch,” Clay said.
“I already sent a telegram to Jack and told him I would see Rose home. I gave my word to Granny,” Morgan said. He didn’t know why he was insisting he would be the one to see Rose home. He had a lot of work waiting for him, and it would be easier to let Clay and George escort Rose to Whispering Pines. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave without her. Though Clay hadn’t said as much, Morgan thought he was interested in Rose. The way Morgan saw it, Clay had had ample time to get to know her on the stagecoach, since he’d traveled all the way from back East with her. But if Clay liked Rose, and she seemed to like him, why should he interfere? On the other hand, it wasn’t Clay who had undressed her and bandaged her ribs. Pastor or not, he didn’t want any man to see Rose undressed. But the most important reason he would see Rose to Whispering Pines was that he’d given his word to Granny. At least, that was what he told himself.
Once he donned his clean shirt, Morgan walked to the small room where Rose was resting. The door was open, but instead of walking inside, he leaned against the door frame. Rose was lying on the bed, propped up with two pillows behind her. He thought she looked beautiful lying there with her blond hair fanned out over the pillow. “The men are leaving for the ranch, and I thought you might want to send a message to Granny.”
Rose gazed at him. He looked so big and masculine with his broad shoulders filling the doorway that it was difficult to focus on his question. He was such a striking man, it was impossible to keep her eyes off of him. His clean shaven face and wet hair told her he’d bathed. Her gaze drifted down to his clean shirt, and she found herself imagining how he would look without it. His muscles bulging beneath the cloth indicated he would be a sight to behold. “Aren’t you going with them?” She didn’t know why that was the first question that came to her mind.
He wondered if she wanted him to stay with her. “No.”
Her first thought was he was going after Frankie, but she didn’t know how to ask him. “Why? Don’t you need to get back to the ranch?”
“Yes, I do.” He did need to get back to his ranch, and he expected to have long days ahead after being gone so long. He didn’t mind the long hours; he loved his ranch and the work that gave his life purpose. Whispering Pines was always first in his mind, and that was what was so surprising to him now. He found himself in uncharted territory. He wanted to be with her more than he wanted to get back to the ranch. The way she was looking at him, he knew she had something on her mind. She would make a lousy poker player. “Why do you ask?” Before she responded, he realized what she was thinking. “You want to know if I’m going after Frank.”
She looked down at the coverlet draped over her and she started twisting the fringe on one end. “I did wonder.”
Morgan took a deep breath before he responded. It irritated him that Frank Langtry was included in every conversation. “I’m staying to ride home on the next stage with you, if you are feeling up to it. I sent a telegram and promised Granny I would see to it you got home safely.”
Her eyes slowly drifted back to his. “I see. Thank you.” She wanted him to stay. It wasn’t only because she didn’t want him going after Frankie. After spending time with him, it came as a surprise to find how much she really liked him. She didn’t want their time together to come to an end. When she got home, she wasn’t certain she would see much of him, yet she felt guilty knowing she’d already taken up too much of his time. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to him. She hoped he wasn’t staying simply to honor his word to Granny. “I’m sure the pastor could stay. I know you must have work waiting for you on your ranch.”
“Clay said he was riding to Whispering Pines with the men. But of course, if you prefer he stay with you . . .” It wasn’t a question, but he waited for her response. He felt like something important was riding on her reply, but he couldn’t put into words why he felt that way.
They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to speak.
His dark, intense gaze made her heart beat faster. All she could think about was how handsome he was. Had he asked her a question? She couldn’t remember.
Morgan wondered if she was afraid to tell him she wanted Clay to accompany her to Whispering Pines. She’d told him she’d feared him when she was a girl. Did he frighten her now? He might not like her response, but there was no reason for her to think he would be angry with her. Without taking his eyes off of her, he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. When he reached the bed, he leaned over and braced an arm on the mattress beside her head. He lowered his torso until his face was mere inches from hers.
Rose was certain her thumping heart was shaking her whole body. Not from fright, but from the sheer excitement she felt at his nearness. She’d never been alone in a room with a man other than a member of her family. Being alone with any other man would have frightened her. But Morgan didn’t. He’d been gentle with her, and cared for her when her own brother took off and left her behind. She didn’t want to think about Frankie right now. She didn’t want to think about anything other than Morgan. He was so close to her she could smell the scent of his soap, and feel the heat from his body. If she were prudent, she would look away from his midnight gaze, but she couldn’t. His eyes were like magnets, pulling her into their depths.
He didn’t know what possessed him to move so close to her. Her eyes were huge, and her pupils became larger and darker the longer he gazed at her. The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. He knew he was in dangerous territory, but he also knew there was no way he was going to move away from her now. “Are you afraid of me, Rose?”
She shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you didn’t answer my question.”
She blinked, but her eyes remained on his. “What question?”
“Do you want Clay to ride with you?”
Her eyes drifted to his mouth, then to the dimple in his chin. “I know you’ve been away from the ranch a long time, and you must have a lot of work needing your attention.”
“Answer my question, Rose.” His words were softly spoken, but the demand for a response was not subtle.
What did he want her to say? She’d taken up too much of his valuable time already. “You’ve been so kind to look after me, and I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”
Why wouldn’t she answer him? He leaned over and braced his arm on the other side of her, forcing the feather mattress to dip under his weight. He was so close to her, he could see the flecks of silver in her green eyes. “You haven’t inconvenienced me. If you want Clay to ride with you, I’ll leave with my men.”
She didn’t want him to leave, yet there was that nagging voice reminding her he was the man who wanted to hang her brother. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to forget Frankie. If not for Frankie, she might tell him what she wanted to say. She couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, and she wanted to be with him as long as possible, but by saying those words she felt she would be betraying her brother.
Morgan didn’t know why he kept asking the question. Her evasiveness gave him his answer. He shouldn’t care. It didn’t make sense why he was drawn to her. He was going to hang her brother, so she was the last person he should want to be involved with. But for some inexplicable reason, he wanted her. Badly. She didn’t say a word, so he straightened and turned to the door. “I’ll see you in Whispering Pines.”
As he took one step toward the door, Rose said, “No.”
Morgan stopped, turned around and looked at her. He raised his eyebrow in question, waiting for her to say more. She didn’t say more, so he waited. Perhaps it was his pride, but he was determined she would have to tell him she wanted him to stay. What did the Bible say about pride? A man’s pride shall bring him low. He may be brought low, but she was going to have to tell him what she wanted. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to leave her behind with Clay or any other man. But he was calling her bluff. And he was a good poker player. “No?”
“I don’t want you to go,” she said softly.
Her admission made his heart leap. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he was afraid he would hurt her ribs. Still, he wanted to do more than stare at her. He might not be able to embrace her, so he did the next best thing. He stepped to the bed, lowered his head and kissed her.
Instead of being surprised, Rose expected his kiss, wanted his kiss. When he started to walk away, she thought if she missed this opportunity, she might never have another. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her lips to his. Not shyly, but boldly, as if she’d been kissed this way a thousand times before. She hadn’t. No one had ever kissed her the way he was kissing her. The bed shifted under his weight when he sat beside her, but his lips didn’t leave hers. She no longer felt any pain from her ribs. She felt nothing, but her need for him. She curled her fingers through his dark, damp hair and held him to her. She caressed his neck, his powerful shoulders, and ran her hands over his muscled arms. She’d never touched a man the way she was touching him. It was as if she wanted to commit to memory the very feel of him. He felt so strong and potent, and she wanted . . . she needed much more. She heard his breathing increase, and his skin was blazing under her hands. She didn’t want this moment to end. She didn’t want him to stop kissing her, and she didn’t want to stop touching him.
Morgan hadn’t expected such an assertive response from her. He felt like he’d died and gone to heaven. He gently lifted her to his chest, and ran his large hands over her back, caressing her as she was him. His lips left hers, only to plant small kisses on her neck before he sought her lips once again. His breathing was ragged. Over and over, he reminded himself to be gentle and not to lose his head. He didn’t want to do anything he would later regret, but her response had him so excited that he could hardly contain his desire.
Her hands moved over his broad back, and she pressed against his chest and uttered a small moan.
Morgan pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”
She couldn’t form a thought as her gaze focused on his mouth.
“Did I hurt your ribs?” Morgan asked again.
She shook her head. She felt like pleading with him not to stop kissing her.
Morgan searched her face. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, but the way she was looking at him and touching him said she wanted more. He wanted more. Much more than he could have. Frank. There he was again. If not for Frank, Rose would be his. He cupped her chin in his hand. “Why do you want me to stay? You haven’t forgotten what I intend to do?”
Knowing he was referring to Frankie, Rose found herself becoming emotional. She hadn’t forgotten Morgan was her brother’s mortal enemy. The brother she’d worshipped her entire life. But she wanted this man. She shook her head, and whispered, “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Then tell me why.” The thought crossed his mind that she might think he would change his mind if she gave herself to him.
“I want . . .” She was torn. Was it a choice? Her brother or Morgan? When Frankie thought she was accepting Morgan’s word against his, he’d been furious. Was that the reason he’d left her behind? Was Morgan using her to get to Frankie? Tears filled her eyes.
“What do you want, Rose?”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I want you.” Her lips skimmed his jaw, and moved to his lips.
It didn’t take but a second for the shock of her admission to sink in before Morgan took charge of the kiss once more. When he was about to lose control, he pulled away. He didn’t want to stop, and it took every ounce of mental strength he possessed to take his hands off of her. But he needed to make sure she knew where he stood concerning her brother. “Rose, nothing will change my mind about Frank. If you give yourself to me, it won’t change my mind.”
Rose was stunned by his words. “I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t . . .” She was so shocked, she could hardly speak. He’d misread her response to his kisses. She wiped the tears from her cheek. She was a naïve ninny, like her sisters always told her. It never occurred to her that when she kissed him he would think she was willing to give herself to him. She was offering to give him her heart despite the situation with her brother, and he thought she was bartering for her brother’s life. “I would not give myself to any man without benefit of marriage. You of all people know how I was reared, and the beliefs my family hold dear. I can’t fathom how you would think I would abandon my faith.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Morgan knew they did not convey what he intended. He didn’t expect her to offer herself up on a platter to spare Frank. He just wanted her to know whatever happened between them would not change his mind about hanging Frank. It was only fair that he made that point clear. “I didn’t mean it that way, Rose.” He might have been offended that she would think so little of him. But in truth, he had to admit he was on the brink of succumbing to his baser instincts. “I was only trying to make it clear where I stood regarding your brother. Nothing on earth will change my mind about him.” The last few minutes had been nothing short of bliss for him, but reality smacked him in the face. “I can’t see how a . . .” He’d almost said a marriage, but he quickly amended his words. “I can’t see how anything between us would work. You’re loyal to Frank, and I want someone loyal to me.” Prideful though it may be, Morgan wasn’t willing to bend on that point. He stood and walked to the door. “We both just got caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again.”
Rose refused to cry. She was angry with herself for her own behavior. It was little wonder he’d misinterpreted her response to his kisses. She had no one to blame, but herself. It would be wise to put some distance between them, or she might make a fool of herself again. “Ask Clay if he would stay behind with me, please.”
So, she was no longer calling him Pastor. It was Clay now. “Sure thing.” He left the room in a huff. Not a chance in Hades was he going to ask Clay to stay with her. He might not see himself marrying her, but he’d be a one-eyed toad before he’d give Clay a chance to make headway with her. Now that they’d shared those kisses, he wasn’t about to let any man within ten feet of her. That girl could kiss. She’d had him at her mercy when she ran her fingers through his hair. Maybe when he forgot the way she felt in his arms, forgot the way she caressed his muscles, forgot the way she pressed herself tightly to him, forgot the softness of her lips and how perfectly they molded to his, maybe then, and only then, he might be able to see her with another man. That should only take him—what?—a hundred years or so.