Only 06 - Winter Fire

expected an answer from her dead uncle or the wild creatures she tended. Because Case wasn’t resisting her in any way, she assumed he was still deeply asleep.
    â€œThere,” she murmured. “That’s the last stitch. Now I’ll just bandage you up again. It won’t hurt a bit.”
    His eyelashes lifted for an instant, revealing slivers of pale green. He started to tell Sarah that she wasn’t hurting him, but it was too much effort.
    It was easier just to lie quietly and let her soothe him with words and touches.
    â€œLola swears this smelly salve keeps infection out of wounds better than soap,” she murmured. “I don’t know what my uncle would say, but it certainly worked on Ute and you and the rest of the wild creatures.”
    She set down the jar of salve. It thumped gently onto the floor near her patient’s shoulder.
    The mixed scents of juniper, sage, and other herbs Case couldn’t identify flowed over him each time he breathed in. He preferred the sunshine and rose-petal smell of Sarah’s skin, but he lacked the energy to tell her.
    â€œThat’s it,” she encouraged. “Just keep sleeping. I’ll have a clean bandage back on in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
    The sensation of her hands on his skin was familiar to him by now, as was the faint brushing of her breasts against him while she wrapped the bandage all the way around his thigh.
    His body’s reaction was familiar, too.
    He didn’t bother trying to fight the arousal that came whether he willed it or not. He simply hoped the loincloth covered him.
    â€œNow we’ll just stretch out this leg,” she murmured. “It shouldn’t hurt for but a moment.”
    Her hands slid under the knee and heel of his wounded leg. Gently she guided his leg into a more natural position.
    â€œIt’s a good thing I only have to move part of you at a time,” she said softly. “You’re big even lying down.”
    Her hand smoothed gently down his uninjured leg, enjoying the warmth and resilience of his flesh.
    â€œSuch strength,” she said. “It must be wonderful to be that strong.”
    Case didn’t speak for the simple reason that he didn’t want the soft petting to stop. He hadn’t experienced anything as sweet in too many years to count.
    â€œYou’re dusty, too,” she added with a soft laugh. “How do people raise a family on a dirt floor and keep the little ones clean?”
    While she spoke, her hand repeated its calming sweep down his leg.
    He knew the motion was meant to be soothing. He had watched her pet and murmur over her wounded hawk in just the same slow, gentle way, easing the bird’s restlessness when she put medicine on its wound.
    â€œI wish Conner and Ute could take a week to go to the mountains and saw some planks for the floor,” she murmured. “But that isn’t likely. So much work, so little time…”
    She picked up the jar of slave, covered Case with a flannel sheet, and moved away from his side.
    He gave a silent sigh that was part disappointment and part relief. Being petted like that was both arousing and oddly poignant.
    She would be a good mother , he thought. But first she’llhave to find a man young or brave or stupid enough to ask God for children he can’t protect .
    Case wasn’t that young anymore. He hadn’t been since he came home from the war and found the bloody remains of his brother’s family.
    Five Culpeppers left , he told himself. Then it will be over .
    He didn’t linger over what had been done or what remained to be done. No man enjoyed digging out a privy, but no man worth his salt ignored the duty when he drew the short straw.
    The Culpeppers had to be stopped.
    Case had drawn the short straw.
    A slight rush of air and the faint scent of roses told him that Sarah had returned.
    â€œI hope this doesn’t wake you,” she murmured. “Just a warm wet rag and some soap. Nothing to worry a strong man like you.”
    Slim fingers combed through his hair, moving it back from his forehead. He enjoyed the caresses in a suspended kind of way, like a fever dream.
    Rose-scented and soapy, the rag moved over his face. It reminded him of a big, warm, slightly rough tongue.
    â€œI’ll wash your hair tomorrow, when you’re less tired,” she crooned. “I could tell from the feel of it the first time I touched your hair