Page 106 of Conveniently Wed
“I can sleep in the wagon,” she said, to keep the argument from escalating further.
Edgar looked chagrined. “The wagon didn’t make it through the stampede.”
A ripple of latent fear shook her. If the cattle had destroyed the wagon, big and bulky as it was, they could have easily killed Edgar when he’d fallen.
Then she thought of something else. “Your ma’s recipe cards!”
It was a combination of her relief, bottled-up fear and distress that made her eyes fill with tears.
She tried to turn away.
Both men behind her gasped.
Edgar took her shoulders. Gently. “You need to wash up and then we’ll get you to town to see a doctor.”
He meant her back. The stinging was constant, so she’d forgotten about it momentarily.
“I’ll send Ricky back to fetch Emma?—”
“How long will that take?” Daniel asked belligerently.
There must have been something between the two men. Fran rarely heard her mild-mannered brother angry, but he seemed really perturbed at Edgar.
She shook her head. “I don’t want Emma to see?—”
She met Edgar’s gaze and one corner of his mouth turned up, a bit ruefully.
“Coddling,” she whispered. Still tearful. “Can you…could you?—”
He didn’t make her ask. “Let me see if I’ve got some clean cloth in my saddlebag.”
He escorted her to a nearby creek—after extensive reassurance from her to Daniel—where the scrub trees shaded them from the bright morning sun and gave them a little privacy.
He’d found a washrag and now rinsed it in the creek. The water was icy against her upper back as he dabbed carefully at the cut.
His hands were shaking. Badly. And he was silent.
Was he still that angry with her for not telling the whole truth about what had transpired with Underhill?
She couldn’t stop crying.
Partly, she was relieved that they were all okay, but partly she was afraid he would send her away with Daniel.
It was similar to what had happened two days before, during the rainstorm. The storm had come, and her emotions had overflowed like rushing water. Unstoppable.
Fran’s silent tears unmanned him.
He had let her down. He was desperately afraid that she would leave—and he knew he deserved it if she did.
He bandaged her cut as best he could.
“We’ll see the doctor in Cheyenne,” he said.
She turned on him. “You’d better let me see to your back.”
He stood dumbfounded for a moment.
“Didn’t he get you with the whip as well?” she prompted.
