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Bits of grass and dirt clung to Ben’s disheveled hair. He was on his side, one arm flung over his head. “Ben.” The word came out in a harsh croak of a sound. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Are you all right?”
He groaned and rolled to his back. Morning Dove bit her tongue to keep from reacting. They beat his face bloody.
“I’m fine.”
He was also lying. “You do not look fine.” His eyes were bloodshot. The powerful scent of whiskey told her he had been in the saloon before coming to her rescue. “Can you sit up?”
She had never touched him. Not even to shake his hand, and the thought of doing so now made nervous butterflies dance in her stomach. She reached out, paused, then picked a few strands of grass from his face before sliding her arm under his shoulders and struggled to lift him.
It took a few tries but between the two of them, he was able to sit up. They sat so close, she could feel his breath against her face and leaned back, heat crawling up her neck.
Ben shifted when she did and winced before grabbing his ribs and taking several deep breaths. He blinked lazily at her, his tongue poking out to lick blood from his busted lips. The sight of it made her think things she should not.
Every time she saw him, she turned into a simpering idiot without him saying a single word to her. Even sitting here, his face a mass of bruises and bleeding, he seemed bigger than life. His broad shoulders looked strong enough to take on the world, and as much as she enjoyed being so near to him, instinct told her to run as fast as she could and never look back.
Pain shined in his eyes. He stared at her for a long moment before his attention turned to the three who had jumped him. He nodded in their direction. “What was that all about?”
Marshal Avery had them up against the back of the mercantile, his voice pitched too low to make out what he was saying, but the pock-marked one was staring at her. She looked away, focusing her attention on Ben. “I bumped into one of them and he did not like that very much.”
A crowd had gathered at the mouth of the alley. Marshal Avery turned and ushered the three men back toward the sidewalk with the help of a few others, but stopped and looked over at them. “You all right, Ben?”
Ben nodded, but said nothing.
“You don’t look it.” Morgan straightened. “Head over and see Doc Reid and have him check those ribs.” He met her gaze. “Are you all right, Morning Dove?”
“I am fine.”
“I need to know what happened to deal with these three. Do you want to press charges?”
Yes, but she was not stupid enough to do it. She bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I would like to go home. It was nothing more than a misunderstanding.”
The pock-marked one spit blood, his hate-filled eyes locked on her. She focused on the Marshal. His expression said he knew why she was not making more of a fuss and there was sympathy shining in his gaze. At least he was not as oblivious as most of the townsfolk acted.
“All right,” he said. “You take him over to Doc Reid’s. I’ll deal with these three.”
She watched him walk away, the men who started this complete mess grumbling the entire time. Focusing on Ben, the sight of his bleeding face brought on a wave of guilt. They had beaten him bloody because of her. “I am sorry, Ben.”
“For what?”
“For that,” she said, nodding to his face. “You did not have—“
“—Yes, I did.” He shifted and winced again. “I saw them shove you into the alley from across the street. I also saw no one stepping in to help you.”
Ben braced his hand on the ground and tried to get up. Morning Dove grabbed his free arm and helped best she could. “You should see Doctor Reid like Marshal Avery suggested.”
“I’ll be fine.”
She doubted it but did not say as much. Her basket and all its contents were scattered across the ground. She retrieved them, happy the jar of apple preserves had not busted. The bag Aaron’s coffee beans were in did though, a good portion of them littering the grass.
“Are you in town alone?”
Ben’s question brought her head up. “Yes.” She lifted the basket. “Betsey needed a few things, so I told her I would ride into town to get them since Samuel was having his nap.”
“Well, come on, I’ll escort you back home.”
Her girlish heart pounded at his words. “You do not have to do that.”
He lifted his arm and wiped his bleeding nose on his shirtsleeve. “I know I don’t but I’m going to do it anyway.”
