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“I heard that.”
“Good.” He grabbed the whiskey from the pantry and the needle and thread he used to sew up his tack.
He watched her burn the end of the needle with a match then pour whiskey over it. Using warm water, she sloshed a clean rag around the water then irrigated his wound by squeezing the water out of the rag. Gently, she dabbed the excess water and dirt from the laceration. He had to admit she was doing a nice job. She held a clean rag under his arm, tilted the whiskey jug above it and poured it into his cut.
“Ahhhh!” He yanked his arm from her. Whiskey ran onto his pant leg. “What did you do that for?”
“To kill any germs that might be in it.”
“That stuff stings.” The strong smell of whiskey singed his nose and made his eyes water.
“Oh, you big baby. Come here.” She clasped his hand, raised it and started blowing on his cut, cooling the pain.
The contact did funny things to his insides and made him forget all about the stinging.
He stared at her, unable to peel his attention away from her beautiful face and puckered lips. What would it be like to caress those shapely lips with his own? Would they be warm or cool to the touch? Realizing where his thoughts were taking him, he yanked his focus and his mind back to reality. “Aren’t you adding germs to it by blowing on it?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She grabbed the whiskey jug and placed another clean rag under his arm and poured even more alcohol onto the wound. “There. Iffen any of my germs got in there, they’re dead now. You happy?”
“No. It hurts. If I would have gone to the doctor, it wouldn’t have hurt as much.”
“Well, iffen you think that hurt, then you’d best be for backing up your horses, cowboy, and bear down on this.” She all but shoved a piece of wood between his teeth and in the next breath she poked the needle through his skin.
He wanted to yell out in pain. Never was he one to handle needles very well. He bit into the wood, almost breaking it in half. What he really wanted to do was jump up and head straight into town to Doc Berg’s office.
Pressure applied on his arm took his mind off of the needle. Minutes later, after a few more quick pokes and knots, she announced she was finished. While she made a bandage for it, he studied her work and found her stitches to be as good as any doctor’s. Michael had to admit, he was impressed.
She bandaged his arm. “There. All done. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I hate to admit it, but no. It wasn’t too bad. The alcohol was the worst part.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Selina.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let me get you some vittles.” She put away the supplies she’d used and then set food on the table.
He smiled. This time she’d made plenty. After eating a big lunch, although there were still plenty of chores that needed tending to, having had very little sleep the night before, Michael decided to take a short nap to refresh himself. “Selina, I’m going to take a nap. Can you wake me up in about fifteen minutes?”
Her cheeks turned pink. He wondered what that was all about, but all she did was nod.
He stepped into his room and stopped. Sprawled across his pillows was Miss Piggy, the barn cat. “What are you doing in here, Miss Piggy?”
The cat raised her head, gazed at him a mere second, then laid her head back down.
“She needed a place to sleep,” Selina said from behind him.
“There’s a barn for that, you know. Animals do not belong in the house.”
“This one does.”
“No, she doesn’t.” He strode over to where Miss Piggy lay and stooped to pick her up. But before he had a chance to reach the cat, Selina grabbed his hand on his good arm, surprising him with how strong a grip she had for such a tiny woman.
“Don’t you be disruptin’ her. She needs to sleep so that cut can heal.”
He stood to his full height, crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs. “This is my bed, Selina, and I won’t have animals sleeping on it or anywhere near it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sure do. But you’re forgettin’ one thing. This here’s my home now, too. You said so.”
He did and it was. But there was no way he was allowing animals into his…their…house. He had worked his backside off to provide his wife with nice furniture and he’d be hanged if he’d let some animal that spent all day down at the barn rolling in only who knows what, come in and soil everything he’d worked so hard for. “That’s true, but as your husband, I am the head of this house and what I say goes.” He sounded like a bully even to his own ears, but he didn’t know what else to say to keep Selina from bringing any more animals into the house.
