Rain Shadow(26)

"Your pa's okay, Nikky," she reassured softly, and smoothed his fair hair away from his forehead.

"He ain't gonna die?"

"He's going to be good as new in a few days."

"I was awful scared seeing him laying in that wagon without moving."

"So was I." Terrified was more like it. Filled with remorse and guilt. Anything that happened to the Neubauers was her fault.

"Why did that man stab my pa, anyhow?"                       
       
           



       

"Yeah, what did Anton do to him?" Slade demanded defensively.

"Well..." Her son studied her with furtive black eyes.

"That's something we have to talk about." He trusted her. Depended on  her. "That man's name is Miguel de Ruiz. I knew him a long time ago."

She swallowed, her discomfort audible. The boys waited quietly, subdued  by the evening's near tragedy. "He wanted to..." How did she explain  this to children? They were far too young to understand the naive  mistake she'd made. Too young to be subjected to a shrewd, self-seeking  wastrel. "To be my friend again. But I don't want to see him anymore."

"Why not?" Nikky asked.

She sighed. "He disappointed me. Hurt me a lot. I'd be happy if I could forget him."

Nikolaus sat up and threw his sturdy little arms around her. "I don't  like him if he hurt you, Rain Shadow. And I don't like him 'cause he  hurt my pa. I don't like nobody hurtin' people I love."

Heart in torment, she hugged him back.

"Ma?"

The disenchantment in Slade's eyes cued her to his next question,  inducing dread in her breast. "Yes?" He'd always been a clever young  man.

"Is that man my pa?"

His astuteness didn't surprise her. She'd taught him the truth was  always best, but she was bitterly sorry that this was the truth. "Yes,  Slade."

Slowly, Nikolaus pulled from her arms and stared at his friend. "Gosh!"

Rain Shadow's bruised and aching heart went out to each of them. They  were friends. One friend's father had stabbed the other friend's father.  If she was confused, how must they feel?

"I hate him," Slade stated.

"Slade-" she began, almost guilty for the torrent of relief she  experienced at his terrible words. He could have defended Miguel or  sought a relationship with the deplorable man. Either of those reactions  would have broken her maternal heart.

"I do. I hate him." He turned on his side, away from them.

She had prayed this day would never come. For herself as much as for  Slade. "You must not feel shame for what he has done. You are right to  be angry. I'm angry too. But we are not responsible for the things he  has done."

How could she help him understand that he had no control over another  person's actions when guilt and shame consumed her, as well? She was the  one at fault. If she hadn't become foolishly involved with Miguel in  the first place, none of this would have happened. Anton wouldn't be  lying in the other room hurt. Nikky and Slade-

She leaned over her son and kissed his head. No. Slade wouldn't be here  at all. She crawled between them in the feather bed, and the boys  cuddled into her embrace on either side. What good were regrets now? She  would make it up to them. All of them. Somehow.

Miguel de Ruiz had hurt the people she loved.

* * *

Anton developed a fever during the night. Down the hall, the woman he'd  asked to marry him slept in Jakob and Lydia's former room. It would be  of little use to wake Sissy. She'd been unable to look at the wound in  Anton's shoulder without getting queasy, and she'd turned as red as a  June radish every time her gaze had come in contact with his broad bare  chest.

Rain Shadow watched his face as he slept. He'd jumped to her defense.  The thought still astonished her. She was accustomed to taking care of  herself. And Slade. And recently, Two Feathers. Miguel's venomous words  had shamed her beyond tolerance, and she regretted Anton had heard them.  He'd never held a high opinion of her, and Miguel's accusations  couldn't have raised it. Beneath the compress, the wound appeared red  and feverish. She prepared fresh dressings and perched on the bed's  edge.

His shoulder was on fire. Rain Shadow bathed his face, neck and upper  body with cool water. Her hands were cool and soothing against his skin.  Through a haze of pain and fever, her touch inadvertently speared him  with desire. Heaven help him, he prayed she couldn't gauge the effect  she had on his traitorous body.

She raised the bandage. Waiting for her reaction, he cringed inwardly.  His shoulder had pained almost this bad for two nights after a roll of  barbed wire had laid it open. Emily had been too squeamish to care for  him, so he'd cleaned and bandaged himself.                       
       
           



       

He opened his eyes, rolled his head and focused on her. "You still up?"

Her head came up in surprise. "I slept with the boys for a little while."

"Two Feathers?"

"I finally convinced him the lodge wasn't safe. He spread his blankets in your father's room."

He nodded his approval.

"Doc left medicine for you." She worked the cork from the bottle.

"I don't need it."

"You'll have a fever for a while before the wound begins to heal. You  need it." She offered the spoon authoritatively, and he accepted the  dose. "I need to change the dressing."

He wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, but she brooked no  argument and peeled the bandage away. Anton waited for her to flinch or  for disgust to cloud her features. Instead, she performed the task as if  she were caring for her son or cleaning up after a meal. "Another  scar."

She wrung the cloth and draped the cool towel across his chest. Dark, dark eyes met his.

He ran a dry tongue over his lips and swallowed. The wet cloth soothed. Was it possible he didn't disgust her?

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not one of the fainting belles you're  accustomed to. Sioux braves bear scars of courage from the Sun Dance,  and everyone is injured at some time or another. Scars aren't repulsive  to me-but then I'm no lady."

"Don't say that," he denied, but then thought of her skinning rabbits  and gutting grouse. Her eyes told him she was thinking of the cruel  things Ruiz had said.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Anton, I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault."

"Yes. It is. This wasn't your problem."

"If you think I can stand by while Ruiz insults you, think again."

"Why should you care?" She lifted her solemn gaze to his face. "I've  done nothing but get under your skin since Slade and I happened to you."

He frowned at her words. Happened to him. He couldn't have said it  better. She irritated him beyond reason. She possessed none of the  qualities necessary to interest a man such as himself. She wasn't a good  housekeeper or a cook. She was more at home in the open air than in a  house. She worked in unflattering men's clothing, occasionally donning  calico and damask like an adolescent playing dress-up. She was frank  rather than coy, unaffected rather than coquettish, mouthy, willful...

Why should he care?

Sissy possessed all the virtues he looked for. She was everything he'd  told himself he needed in a wife. He had asked Sissy to marry him. Why  then, did this woman's innocent touch arouse him?

"While you're on my land, staying-more or less-in my house, it's up to  me to look out for you. Why are you in here instead of sleeping, anyway?  Why didn't you let someone else do this?" Once the questions were out,  he wanted to bite them back. He didn't want her to think he cared. He  couldn't care. Caring opened up a person, subjected them to inevitable  heart damage, and he was beyond that.

"It's my fault you're hurt. I'll take care of you."

Of course. She felt responsible. She didn't care a straw about him. The  weight he experienced pressing in on his chest had nothing to do with  her words. He couldn't be disappointed because he'd never expected-never  wanted- anything more.

He closed his eyes. His head hurt and his shoulder throbbed. This  thinking wasn't doing him any good. Why did he care? He had to forget  her problems and concentrate on marrying Sissy. Though his body flushed  with excessive heat, the thought left him cold.

* * *

The following night his fever raged. Rain Shadow had been grateful for  help that evening, but Annette had long since gone home. After checking  on Anton during a particularly peaceful half hour, Johann had followed  Two Feathers out to the cabin they'd cleaned out.

Sissy brought fresh water.

"Thanks." Rain Shadow took the basin and rinsed clean cloths. "I know Anton appreciates your help."

Sissy raised her wide-eyed gaze. "He'll be all right, won't he?"