Chapter 13

When they reached Sundance Ranch, Brock went inside with Daphne to warm up a little before heading home and to see if there was any news about Cy and Cotton.

Leigh said, “They’re not back yet. I don’t think it’ll take them long to find Maynard. I’d like a piece of him when they do, though.”

“Me, too.” Daphne started putting coffee on. “Johnny is holding his own. I just hope that infection doesn’t set in.”

Leigh said, “Sounds like they’re taking good care of him. I’ll go with you tomorrow after breakfast and harass him about getting shot when we have all this work to do.”

It hadn’t occurred to Brock that without Johnny around, the workload fell mainly to Leigh because Cy worked during the day.

“You need to hire a ranch hand.”

Leigh said, “We can’t afford to pay someone a decent wage right now. We’ll be fine. Once they get back, Cotton will help me. David sent over one of their ranch hands today and said that he’d come back tomorrow, too.”

“That’s good,” Brock said. “You know, you’ve got another bunkhouse.”

“Yeah. I’m aware.”

Brock rubbed his chin a little. “Maybe you could find someone who’d be willing to work for room and board and a little money for now. You could put an ad in the paper, and I’d be happy to ask around for you.”

Leigh’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea. I keep telling Cy that you’re not as bad as he thinks you are. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Happy to help.”

Brock only stayed long enough to drink one cup of coffee, wanting to get home just in case the hospital called.

Daphne walked him out. “I can’t thank you enough.”

He took her face in his hands. “Daphne, I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do for you. I care about you, and I’ll help you with whatever you need me to.”

Moving closer, he lowered his head, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that grew hungry in seconds. Daphne wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her tongue teasing his. He growled as he held her tighter, and Daphne reveled in his strength.

His mouth was hot and demanding and Daphne ached for him. She wanted him so much that she felt faint with need. She also had the mad urge to rip his clothes off and feast her eyes on him. Suddenly his hands were underneath the shawl she’d thrown on, caressing her back, creating an even hotter fire inside.

Brazenly, she guided his hand to her breast, wanting to feel his touch. He resisted at first, but she was insistent. He groaned as he gently kneaded it. His thumb grazed her nipple, and she stiffened as a current of desire shot through her.

Brock jerked his hand away. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely.

“What the hell are you sorry for? Why did you stop?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You jumped.”

“Only because it felt so good.”

Brock grinned. “Oh. I’m glad. It sure felt good to me, too.”

Daphne was still dazed by the passion that hummed through her body. “Take me to the barn and make love to me. We can’t in the house, but we can out there.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Don’t you want to? I do.”

She took his hand and tugged, but he didn’t move.

Brock bit back his mirth, knowing that he’d offend her if he laughed. “Honey, I want to make love to you more than you know, but I don’t want our first time to be in a barn. Besides, we’re not married.”

Daphne forced herself to be reasonable. “I know. You’re right. I have to go to bed. Without you.”

He wanted to kiss her again, but she warded off his hands.

“No, no. I can’t touch you and you can’t touch me because, well, I’m not to be trusted right now. I’m too ... wound up and kissing you again isn’t a good idea. Goodnight, Brock.”

He sighed as she went inside the house. “You’re not the only one who’s wound up.”

It was a couple of minutes before he got into his buggy and drove away.

AJ Howard looked up from the book he’d been reading when the door of the sheriff’s office slammed open. A man came flying through the doorway and crashed to the floor. AJ shot to his feet as Cy and Cotton stomped into the office after him.

Cy grabbed the man by the back of his threadbare coat and hauled him to his feet.

“Get up, you worthless piece of shit.” Cy’s eyes blazed with rage. “This is the drunk coward who shot Johnny. AJ, you better take him because if you don’t, I’m gonna kill him. I shoulda just done it, but—just take him.”

Cy might not have killed him, he hadn’t treated Maynard any too kindly, AJ saw. He took Maynard without a word to Cy, pushing him back to the cell room.

Wheezer still sat calmly with his feet up on his desk. “You got him. Good. You okay?”

Cy nodded. “How’s Johnny? Is he...?” Terror that Wheezer was going to tell him that his cousin had died paralyzed his voice box.

“Hanging in there.” Wheezer chuckled. “I saw him a little this afternoon and he was funny as heck. Laudanum.”

Cy wiped away a tear. “I’m glad to hear that. Poor kid. He just wanted to take a pretty girl out. He never did that before.” He sat down in Ellie’s chair. “Hell, I don’t think he’s even kissed a girl. If he’d have died without even doing that—”

Wheezer pulled open a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Here, son. You’ll feel better when you get a little of that in you.”

Cy took it and downed a couple of gulps before handing the bottle to Cotton, who took a long pull from it.

Cy said, “Maynard needs a doctor. Burt got him pretty good on the leg.”

Wheezer grunted as he took the bourbon back from Cotton. “Good.”

“Is it all right if I leave the dogs here? I want to go to the hospital to see Johnny. I don’t think they’d appreciate me bringing them in there,” Cy said.

“Sure.”

Cotton opened the door and the three pooches trotted inside, going right over to Wheezer, who pet them.

Wheezer smiled. “So, I hear that you got some cats, Cy.”

Cy growled as he got up and strode out the door. Wheezer and Cotton laughed before he followed his nephew out into the night.

A week later, Johnny was released from the hospital and situated in the guest room in the main house despite his protests. He didn’t want to be a bother to them. Daphne settled the matter by telling him that it would be more inconvenient for them to keep traipsing over to his bunkhouse.

His wounds were healing, but he was still in a lot of pain. However, he was well enough to be bored. Used to being busy, lying in bed all day didn’t sit well with him. Everyone had to work so they couldn’t sit with him all the time. He worked on some woodworking designs, but that just made him itch to get back to his woodshop.

By the time he’d been home a week, he’d become cranky. He also wanted to see Dory and the fact that she hadn’t visited him made Johnny even more irritable.

“Johnny, she’s probably feeling guilty about what happened,” Daphne remarked the Saturday after he’d come home.

“I don’t know why. She ain’t the one who shot me. It ain’t her fault.” He shifted to a more comfortable position against his headboard.

“I know, but you can understand why she’d feel badly.”

“I guess so. You wait until I’m better, though. If she won’t come to me, I’ll go to her,” he declared. “That woman ain’t seen the last of me.”

Daphne chuckled. “I didn’t know you could be so stubborn.”