Page 59 of Deadwood
My eyes widened down at him as I quickly took a step back, but my ankle sang in pain and I nearly fell backwards. In a blink, his hand shot out to grab my wrist, our connection the only thing keeping me upright.
As I steadied myself, he let me go and gestured to the bottom of my dress. “May I? Or are you too proper for a man to be in such close proximity?”
My eyes narrowed, too stubborn to let him think I’d much rather not have him below my skirt, before I said, “Have at it.” He had done his best to push my buttons every chance he got, but I didn’t want him to think I was weak or scared of him, that he might be winning in whatever battle this was between us.
His fingers wrapped around the hem of my skirt, slowly lifting it to expose my ankle. All I could do was stare down at him, nearly in awe. This man waskneelingin front of me.
“You know, the last time I offered my help, you politely declined.” His hand reached forward, disappearing from view.
I snorted. I was far from polite that night at the masquerade ball when I’d thought he wanted to unlace my corset.
Pain bloomed in my ankle as he tried to move it, and I sucked in a breath. His brows furrowed as he studied the injury.
“So, if there’s supposedly no king here and everyone seems to answer to you, what does that make you?” I asked, trying to distract myself from what he was doing.
“Just a male,” he answered.
“That makes no sense,” I said, but the end of the sentence was cut off as I hissed in another breath. Heat spread up my leg along with the pain this time. Even through the wrap, the prodding of his fingers hurt.
He let my skirt fall back into place. “Doesn’t have to make sense, Princess.”
Bowen stood, his body all too close to mine, and if it wasn’t for the fear of causing any more strain on my ankle, I would’ve stepped back again.
“You’ll live. It should take about a week to heal.”
“A week?” I exclaimed, deciding he was too close to be appropriate and finally taking that step away. I fought the wince at the throb in my ankle. “We need to be back in Amosite in a few days.”
“How did you expect to leave any sooner with the state your group is in?”
I glanced behind me at the camp where two of the guards that hadn’t retired to tents were lying around the fire, one noticeably asleep, the other doing all they could to ignore the pain that still lingered.
If we don’t get back…
My father had made it clear there would be consequences.
I turned back to Bowen to find him staring at me, waiting for an answer, and I wondered if I’d voiced my thoughts aloud.
“You don’t have healing vials?” I asked.
He gave no response. “Nothing heals better than time.”
I held back the sigh that wanted to escape. “I should get some rest.”
I had no idea what we would do about the delay in our return. Sure, Paxon and Lander might be fine, but the guards and me? We’d pay the price.
Bowen dipped his chin, and I turned, limping back to camp.
We had to heal quickly because I worried that if we didn’t, we’d be in way worse of a condition come our return.
CHAPTER 20
Overnight, the winds had picked up tremendously. The tent flapped loudly, and at times, I thought it might up and fly away. I silently wished it would, only to get all of us back to Amosite before our deadline.
I hadn’t left the tent all morning, aside from relieving myself, but even on the short walk, the dirt in the air had stung my eyes. While I’d briefly been outside, I’d found that no one was milling about the town like they had been when we arrived. Whatever the wind was a warning of, the people knew to take shelter.
I was still in my destroyed dress, but I had no other options. All of our luggage had been burned in the ambush. My forehead felt warm, my hands clammy, making me all the more glad I didn’t have to leave the tent anytime soon, giving the weather enough time to hopefully die down.
With the wool blanket wrapped tight around my shoulders, I watched from the corner as the knot on my tent string was pulled loose, and the flap was yanked back.
