Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(71)

Tousled blond hair bounced as the boy nodded.

“What did she do?”

His brow wrinkled. “She stuck a thermometer in my ear.”

“Your ear?” What kind of mother was she? “Why not under your tongue?” Mitch could still recall having to hold one for what seemed forever, waiting for his mother to get a reading.

“That’s the old way, Mom told me.”

Mitch shook his head. Must be some new kind of thermometer. “What else did she do?”

“She stuck me in a bathtub full of cold water once.” He smiled. “I screamed.”

Mitch had to smile back. “I’ll bet.”

Davey moved closer to his mother. “Mom,” he whispered earnestly. “Wake up.” In his voice, Mitch heard the cracking edge of desperation, but Davey stood between her and Mitch as if to guard her. Something about the boy’s fierceness touched Mitch.

Not all mothers were angels, but he couldn’t tell such a little kid that his mother was a jerk. Worse than a jerk. She’d married some fat cat and turned her back on a damn fine man.

A man who’d saved his life. If not for Cyrus Blackburn, Mitch Gallagher would be in jail—or dead. Cy had seen past the angry young man to the boy who had lost everything. Who’d been banished, accused and convicted without a trial. He’d had to watch his mother’s funeral from a distance and then leave Morning Star, Texas forever.

He’d learned not to feel. Not to need. But he owed Cy more than he could ever repay, and this woman had hurt Cy. Refused contact when the old man needed her most.

The woman stirred and moaned. Mitch edged closer to her, making sure the thermometer stayed put for another fifteen seconds.

“I wish I could find Grandpa Cy,” the boy whispered. “Mom said he could do anything. He’d make Mom wake up, I bet.”

Unwelcome tightness crowded Mitch’s throat. Should he tell the boy? It wasn’t fair to leave him hoping, but what did you say to a little kid at a time like this?

“Listen, Davey…” Mitch swore silently, wishing he were anywhere but here. Anyone would be better than him at doing this. He wasn’t a man with pretty words.

Davey watched him solemnly, those big blue eyes looking so vulnerable. The kid had been stronger than he had any right to expect.

He’d just have to keep him busy until his mother woke up, then it was her job to figure out how to tell him. “Let’s concentrate on getting your mother well for right now.”

The little voice sank low, almost a whisper. “I don’t know how.” He looked away, as if the failure was his.

What did he know about dealing with kids? “How old are you?”

Blue eyes swam with despair. “Five.”

Five years old. Mitch tried to remember being five. All he could recall was the first day his own grandpa Ben had helped a kid with clumsy fingers learn to bait a hook.

And how it had felt to succeed.

Okay. They’d start small. “Well, first you take hold of the thermometer and hand it to me.”

“What if I break it?”

“I don’t think you will. Do you?”

The boy shot a sideways glance at the thin glass tube, then shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Then hand it to me and let’s see if we need to dunk your mom in cold water.”

Through the boy’s fear, a tiny smile peeked. He handled the thermometer as if it were the finest china, then gave it to Mitch.

Mitch eyeballed the reading. One hundred and two. Keeping his face carefully neutral, he looked back at Davey. He wouldn’t scare the boy, but he wouldn’t coddle him, either. “It’s pretty high, son, but nothing we can’t handle. You watch her and call out if she wakes up. I’m headed for the stream to get cold water.”

“You’re really going to stick her in a tub of cold water?”

Mitch almost smiled at the boy’s horror. “No, but I need to cool her down and we don’t have ice in the cabin. Up this high, the mountain streams are very cold, and I’ll use the water to sponge her down.”

Davey looked dubious. “What if she screams?”

Mitch glanced back on his way out the door. “At least she’ll be awake.”

“Yes, sir.” To the boy’s credit, there was only a tiny tremble in his voice. He stood like a little sentinel, guarding his mother.

Mitch shook his head and turned away, wondering if Davey’s mother knew that she didn’t deserve him.



The flames licked at her face. Around her, they rose to taunt her. On the other side of the fire, Simon clutched a struggling Davey. “I told you not to involve the police. You’re a fool to defy me, Perrie. Mathesons always win.”