Read Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) Online

Authors: Pamela BAUER

Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) (5 page)

BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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So did Hannah, but not the electrical kind. Her shock was more of a sexual awareness of the man—which was ridiculous. There was no way she could be attracted to someone so coarse.
Wood stirred, causing .his arm to flop over the edge of the bed. Hannah automatically put it back at his side. As she did, she caught a glimpse of reddened skin beneath the cuff. She pushed back the stiff cotton and gasped. Rope bums circled his wrist. A look at his other hand confirmed her suspicions—his wrists had been tied together.
Jeremy noticed the marks as well. “See. I bet those were caused by the lightning—just like the ones on his neck.”
Hannah’s heart began to pound. “He has marks on his neck?”
Jeremy nodded. “They’re under his collar.”
Carefully, Hannah eased back a corner of his shirt and saw the inverted vee ringing his neck. “That’s not from lightning,” she told Jeremy.
“Then what is it?” Gabby asked.
“Jeremy, run up to the house and call Red Murphy and tell him to come over here right away,” Hannah instructed, backing away from the bed.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Gabby demanded.
“Just do as I say,” Hannah ordered her son, who hadn’t moved.
“But why, Mom?” Jeremy wanted to know. “Is he a criminal or something?”
“No, he’s not a criminal,” Gabby protested loudly. “He’s a guest.” She turned to confront Hannah. “Why won’t you believe me when I say he’s a good man?”
Hannah steered her aunt to a corner of the room, away from Jeremy’s curious stare. “Those are rope burns on his neck,” she told the older woman in a low voice. “Your Mr. Dumler must have tried to commit suicide.”
Gabby gasped. “That can’t be! He’s a nice young man. I’ve talked to him on the phone and I’ve checked his references.”
“Then why does he have marks on his neck as if he tried to hang himself? And the ones on his wrist are probably from having to be restrained. Your hired help could very well be an escapee from a mental hospital!”
“He’s not! I told you, I checked him out before I invited him here. I even talked to the farmer he worked for in Nebraska. If you want, I can give you his phone number and you can call him and hear for yourself that Alfred’s a good man.” Indignation flashed in her eyes. “Why won’t you believe me?”
Hannah could see she had offended her aunt. Her cheeks were flushed and she was fidgeting like a wind-up doll. “Gabby, it’s not that I don’t believe you.”
“Then what is it?” The older woman pursed her lips momentarily, then said, “This is 1998. They don’t tie mental patients to the bed with rope. They have restraints. I think maybe Jeremy is right. Those marks could be from lightning.”
Hannah didn’t agree. “And if they’re not?”
“He’s not a mental patient,” Gabby insisted.’ “There’s nothing wrong with this man except that he was either struck by lightning or suffering from heat exhaustion. And that’s only because he was on his way to see us.”
“I’d feel better if Red came by,” Hannah told her.
“For what? So he can take him to the jail and interrogate the poor man? Hannah, you can’t call Red,” Gabby pleaded. “When everyone hears that I found Alfred in a farm journal I’ll be the laughing stock of Filmore County.”
“Oh, Gabby,” Hannah moaned. “No one needs to know about this.”
The old lady gasped indignantly. “Of course they’ll know. In a town the size of Stanleyville, there are no secrets.”
Hannah knew what she said was true. Very little happened in any part of the county that wasn’t discussed at mid-morning coffee break in the cafés in town.
“I’m uneasy about him staying here, Gabby,” Hannah said honestly.
“You don’t need to be. He’s a good man.” She continued to plead his case. “Look, even Outlaw likes him.” Hannah glanced at Wood and saw that Jeremy’s dog had jumped up on the bunk and had parked his body next to the stranger’s.
“That’s because he’s finally found someone who’s as dirty as he is,” Hannah said dryly.
“You know Outlaw’s a good judge of character.”
Hannah chuckled sardonically. The truth was, the dog did seem to have an uncanny sixth sense when it came to people. He growled at the people Hannah didn’t trust and licked the hands of those she did.
“What harm would it be to let the man sleep out here tonight? He’s too weak to even make it up to the house,” Gabby pointed out.
Hannah returned to his bedside and stared down at the stranger. Asleep he looked as innocent as Jeremy. She could feel her heartstrings being tugged. What was it about the man that made her want to ignore her common sense? It didn’t help that Jeremy and Gabby were looking at her as if they had brought a stray puppy in from the cold and were waiting for her to say it was okay to keep him. Even Outlaw had a plea for understanding in his eyes.
“I really don’t think he’d hurt us,” Gabby said.
“It’s not
us
I’m worried about. What if he hurts himself?”
Gabby pondered the possibility for several moments before saying, “We could always tie his hands to the bedposts.”
Jeremy heard Gabby’s suggestion and asked, “Why are you going to tie him up?”
Normally Hannah wouldn’t have even considered such a suggestion. “In his confused state, he might do something that’s dangerous,” she explained for her son’s benefit.
“Like what?” Jeremy wanted to know.
Hannah shrugged. “Fall and hurt himself. You said he’s already passed out three times. What if he hits his head? It’s probably not a bad idea, Gabby. Jeremy, run up to the house and bring me one of those old sheets I use to cover the furniture when we paint.”
Jeremy did as he was told, returning with a tattered, paint-splattered white sheet, which Hannah tore into four long strips. Carefully, so as not to irritate the already reddened wrists, she fastened a piece of cotton to each of his hands, then tied them to the metal bed posts.
“Take off his boots,” she ordered Jeremy.
“Are you going to tie his feet, too?” Gabby wanted to know.
“Yes, and if he’s not making any sense in the morning, I’m calling Red. Understand?”
Both Jeremy and Gabby nodded.
Hannah finished fastening the cloth to the bedposts, then stood back and studied the picture before her. Spread out with his hands over his head and his feet apart was a man who looked as if he didn’t have a friend in the world.
“He doesn’t look very comfortable,” Jeremy remarked.
“It’s either this way or have Red come get him,” Hannah stated firmly.
“He’s probably just going to sleep all night, anyway,” Gabby told Jeremy as they left Wood alone in the bunkhouse.
Hannah hoped her aunt was right.
 
WOOD AWOKE WITH A START, gasping for breath. “I’m not dead,” he said frantically, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. A shaft of light poured through the window, the air quiet except for the birds chirping outside. It was peaceful, not chaotic as the lynching had been.
At the memory of his brush with death, he briefly closed his eyes, wanting to erase the experience from his mind. He had hoped that a good night’s sleep would clear his head and give him some answers as to how he came to be rescued by a dotty old lady, a crazy kid and a drooling dog—a dog that took up more than half of the narrow cot. But so far there were no explanations. Maybe if a guy survived a hanging he was forever crazy.
As he went to get up, he discovered both his ankles and his hands were tied to the bed. He exhaled a deep sigh. Maybe he hadn’t been saved by the old lady after all.
He struggled briefly to free himself, then gave up trying. The old lady must have received word that he had been accused of murder. Why else would she have tied him to the bedposts? It made him wonder whether a noose would be dangling around his neck before the day was over.
“Hey, mister. Are you awake?”
It was a child’s voice that had Wood glancing at the door. The drooling dog leaped from the cot and raced to the screen door where the boy who had been with the old lady yesterday stood peering in at him.
“You’re Jeremy, right?” Wood called out to him.
“Uh-huh.” The boy entered carrying a canvas sack slung over his shoulder. As the dog jumped up to greet him, he dropped the sack and lavished the animal with affection. “If you’re all right, I better go. I’m not supposed to be here, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t die or anything.” Jeremy kept a cautious distance from the bed.
“Nope, I’m still breathing, though I’d breathe much better if I wasn’t tied up,” Wood told him. “Want to help me with these knots?”
“Mom said she’d undo them this morning if you’re feeling okay.”
“Is she the one who tied me up?”
He nodded. “She didn’t want you getting hurt.”
“And that’s the only reason she did it?”
“Yup.
Are
you feeling okay?”
“I think so,” Wood answered, relieved that the boy apparently hadn’t heard about his near lynching. “I’ll know once I get up and walk around, which I hope will be soon, because I need to use the privy.”
The kid gave him a blank stare.
“You know, that place you go in the morning to relieve yourself,” Wood explained.
“You mean the bathroom?”
“Bathroom? Is that what you call it here?” Wood didn’t understand why anyone would confuse a bath room with a privy, but he wasn’t going to bother to explain to this kid the difference. Judging by the conversations they had had yesterday, he figured the lad was a little slow in the head, anyway.
“There isn’t one in here,” Jeremy answered. “You have to come to the house.”
“Maybe you want to untie me and show me where it is?”
Although Jeremy had expressed concern for his wellbeing, he wasn’t about to go against his mother’s orders. He took a step backward. “I can’t. I have to go or I’ll be late for school and then my mom will get mad.” He retraced his steps to the door. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Wait!” Wood called out to his departing figure. The boy paused in the door. “Yesterday your grandma said Hannah was at your house. Is she still there?”
The boy gave him an odd look and said, “Gabby’s not my grandma. She’s my great-aunt. Well, actually, she’s some kind of great-aunt. My mom’s grandpa was her brother.”
“So you live with your mom and your aunt and...” he prodded.
“And no one else.”
“What about Hannah?”
The puzzled look stayed on Jeremy’s face. “I already told you she lives here.” He tilted his head, one eye narrowing as he asked, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Yup.”
“That’s good because otherwise Mom is going to call Red Murphy—he’s the sheriff.”
Wood stiffened. “Why would she want to do that?”
“Because of those marks around here.” He gestured to his neck. “Gabby and I told her they were from the lightning, but I don’t think she believed us. She doesn’t know why you’re really here.”
“And you do?”
He nodded, wide-eyed. “Gabby told me she sent for you.” A loud honking noise echoed on the still morning air. “Oops! I gotta go. There’s the bus!” He rushed out the door, leaving a frustrated Wood to wonder what the hell he was talking about.
The bus?
It occurred to him that he hadn’t asked Jeremy about his father. The old lady had said someone called Barry helped with planting, still it was an awful lot of corn for one man to plant. Maybe both women were married, and their husbands weren’t home because they were out with the vigilante group searching for him. Yet he said there was just the three of them—and Hannah.
That possibility was enough to cause Wood to hasten his attempts at freeing himself. But no amount of struggling and squirming would loosen the knots at his wrists. If it was indeed a woman who had tied him up, she had done a man’s job of it. He had no choice but to wait for his jailer to appear.
He wondered if she was the pretty blonde who had fussed over him last night, holding the cup of water to his dry mouth. She had smelled like orange blossoms, which was odd since there were no orange trees in Minnesota. He had thought she looked like an angel with her wild blond curls framing her head like a halo. Was she the one who had saved his life? Now that would be a twist of fate—to almost hang only to be saved by the prettiest lady he had ever seen.
He wished his memory wasn’t so cloudy. All he knew was that his close call with death had weakened him to such a state that not only had he lost his strength, but bits of memory, too. Now a good night’s sleep had restored his strength, if not his memory. Physically, he was ready to get back on his horse and ride as far away from Minnesota as possible. After he found Hannah, that is.
Thoughts of his sister had him watching the door and waiting. The only way he would get to see Hannah was if Jeremy’s mother would allow it.
BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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