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Glancing back at the boy he said in the most controlled tone of voice he could muster, “Okay, look, if this is all about a bath, you can skip it. Hell, if you’re willing to risk your life over it you obviously don’t want to take a bath. So, agreed. Now, would you kindly move very—and I mean very slowly in this direction.”
The boy hesitated, weighing the validity of Wade’s words then glanced over at the bull. With caution he finally moved toward the fence. Mac lifted his head and cocked his ears but did not follow. Instead he stood and watched as the boy made his way from the safety of the tree to the side of the pen.
Just when he reached it, a breeze picked up the corner of his blanket and flapped it in the wind. The bull snorted, moved his hind legs in irritation and positioned himself in what Wade knew was a charge.
Without a moment’s pause, he reached over the fence, grabbed the boy and blanket, and then hauled him over the fence to safety. His movements were so quick he didn’t have time to steady himself as the pair of them went flying onto the dusty ground. To help break the fall, Wade threw them into a roll until they came to a stop a few yards away from the bullpen.
Even though the boy was small he still proved quite the punch, knocking the wind out of Wade momentarily. He laid on the ground trying to catch his breath while the boy lay sprawled across his torso.
When the dust finally settled, the oddest thing he noticed first was an unfamiliar smell. He couldn’t rightly put his finger on it, but it reminded him of days long ago when, as a boy, he’d run between the clothes line hanging out back behind the house to dry. It smelled—he screwed up his forehead, trying to think of the right word—fresh. Which almost made him chuckle, seeing the boy looked like he just had a roll in the pile of cattle dung out back.
At first Wade didn’t notice what was happening, too occupied with catching his breath and familiarizing himself with the odd scent, but then something unexpectedly stirred which had no business stirring. The boy moved, trying to orient his bearings. Wade felt the kid’s scrawny little leg rub up against Wade’s much larger one and
that something stirred more obvious that time.
With a horrified thrust he pushed the boy off and leaped to his feet. The boy curled up into a ball on the ground, drawing the blanket closer around him. He didn’t look up and Wade was glad.
He had no idea where that reaction came from. It certainly wasn’t because he was lacking in that extra-curricular activity. Hell, he just came back from it. Maybe it was the long nights on the cattle drive. Maybe he didn’t get enough sleep. Hell, he really needed a bath now.
“Get the boy a bucket of water.” He informed Joe. “He can use a wash cloth to clean up.”
He studied the shivering boy once again sitting on the ground chin tucked deeply into that ridiculous blanket. One corner slipped and exposed a slender shoulder before the kid snatched it back into place. Wade’s member stirred once again. He let out an angry growl and turned away abruptly. “And, dammit, get the kid some clothes. He’s shivering to death.”
Wade didn’t look back as he stormed up to the house thrusting thoughts of the boy aside. He certainly was not going to think or explore his unusual reaction to him.
Instead, he focused on Kathleen’s arrival, which would be any minute now and cursed the incident at the bullpen for delaying his time in preparing for her arrival. He didn’t have the time to draw a bath, which was what he had really wanted, but instead he would have to make do with the new shower contraption Kathleen had purchased for them last Christmas. Usually he didn’t particularly like it because it only provided cold water, but for some reason today, it sounded just right.
* * *
“Listen, kid, you’re going to have to hand over the blanket sooner or later.” The big stout man stood over her, arms crossed and looking very ill-tempered.
What about, she wasn’t entirely sure, for it wasn’t he who took the tumble on the ground. Her left shoulder still stung from the violent impact. She had no idea why the other man had to manhandle her in the first place. She would have safely removed herself from the pen without so much as a scratch or bruise. Now her shoulder ached and she feared he might have dislodged it.
“We either do it my way—or we do it my way. There ain’t no other choices. Boss wants ya cleaned up and fed and it ain’t no way ya goin’ to the table looking like ya just had a rumble in da pig pen.”
They were in the smallest of the three buildings she discovered was the bunkhouse for the ranch hands. The room was large but crowded with beds and tables. Thankfully, it was empty of humans except for Joe and herself. The rest of the hands were out in the corral with the cattle.
Behind the big cowboy was an oversized barrel where he ducked a bucket to retrieve water for her to use. “So hand over the blanket.”
She drew it closer, her eyes growing in fear. For some reason the men had mistaken her for a boy, and she knew instinctively she could not reveal her true identity. It wasn’t entirely for the fact she hadn’t seen one single female in sight, but rather she knew her life depended on keeping this secret. She tightened the blanket.
The man sighed heavily in frustration, and the woman had an instant to react in horror before he lifted the bucket of water and dumped it over her head. She gasped in shock, spurting water and mud from her mouth as she felt the cascade of dirt and grime sliding down her face. Then another bucket of water followed and then another until the blanket she so desperately clung to was heavy and soaking wet. She released a violent shiver.
At last he put the bucket down and tossed her a clean pile of clothing. “Hell, kid, I ain’t never seen a boy more pansy-like. I thought all you inbred mountain people ran around in the buff, humpin’ your own kind like animals.”
The woman was glad he took that moment to make his exit because she felt bile building up inside and would have gladly spat in the vulgar man’s face or release her own spasm of lewd remarks. But for the fact, for some reason, she no longer had the ability to speak.
Chapter 3
Wade was already beginning to feel refreshed. The cold shower turned out to be exactly what he needed. Unrolling the cuffs of his shirt, he buttoned them shut around his wrist and headed for the great room where a blast of warm air greeted him from the now roaring fire in the hearth. He thought he heard voices from the front foyer, but Prescott came into the room alone. Wade looked behind him.
“Was that Kathleen I heard you speaking to?”
“Afraid not,” Prescott said. “Actually it was a messenger from town. Kathleen won’t be able to make it for another fortnight.”
A flash of anger shot through Wade. “Why not?”
“It seems her youngest has come down with influenza.”
