The Bride of Willow Creek(58)
Marcus grinned. “Best fight I’ve seen in a while. Another two minutes and you would have had him.” They stepped outside and offered a token glance toward the sinking sun.
Sam pressed his handkerchief against the blood dripping from his nose. “Are you still buying?”
“I’m always interested in making money. What have you got?”
“Not me. Not yet. Cannady Johnson. I’ve got a feeling Can’s about to pop. If so, he’ll get a fairer shake from you than from most of them in there.” He jerked his head toward the hotel and immediately regretted the abrupt movement.
“I’ve got some contacts. I’ll check out the assays and if things look promising, I’ll talk to Johnson.”
“Good.” He looked at his bloody handkerchief and damned if he didn’t picture Angie kneeling over the scrub board and having a fit about bloodstains. He almost laughed.
“Sam. If I told you how much money per day my company is taking out of the Moose Jaw Mine, your mouth would fall open. If you ever need—”
Pride reared past the pain in his nose and ribs and his shoulders stiffened. He stuck out his hand and gripped Marcus Applebee’s palm firmly. “I hope it works out for Cannady. He’s close. Goodnight, Marcus.”
“The problem with being stubborn as a mule is that it turns a man into a jackass.”
“Could be,” Sam said with a smile and a wave.
He’d hoped he could go directly to his tent and clean up a bit before he faced Angie. But she and Molly Johnson were sitting on the back steps enjoying the sunset and eating bowls of wild raspberries with the girls.
Angie looked at his battered face and the blood on his shirt and screamed. Lucy and Daisy dropped their bowls and burst into tears.
Chapter 11
“Sometimes you just got to wonder what God was thinking when he created men,” Molly said, staring at Sam through the fading light. Short waves of silver swung against her cheeks as she shook her head and stood. “Damn fools.”
Angie leaped off the steps and ran forward. Her hands flew around Sam’s face and chest, but she was afraid to touch him because she wasn’t sure where he was injured.
“Now, girls.” Molly frowned down at them. “Stop that caterwauling.” Lucy and Daisy sat frozen on the stairs, peering at Sam through their fingers and sobbing in fear and panic. “Head wounds gush like a leak in a dam, especially when the leak’s in the nose, but it’s over now. Your pa is standing on his own two feet, no bones are sticking out, and the bleeding’s almost stopped.”
“Sam! What happened?”
“Molly’s right,” he called to the girls. “I’m fine.”
He was a long way from fine. “You’re covered in blood and one of your eyes is almost swollen shut!” She had to get water and an eye wash. Alum to stop the blood trickling from his nose. There was nothing she could do for the bruise spreading on his jaw. She started to touch his nose then jerked her hand back. His nose didn’t look broken, but it had started to swell. “Oh my heavens. Oh my heavens.”
Sam gripped her shoulders and peered into her eyes. “Angie, it’s all right. I’m going to be sore as hell, but nothing’s busted.”
Her heart was going to pound through her chest, she just knew it, and her hands shook.
Paralysis broken, Lucy and Daisy raced past her and threw themselves around Sam’s legs, hanging on and crying. Sam patted their backs and threw Molly a glance.
Striding through the twilight, Molly pried the girls loose. “Come along now. You come to my place and we’ll have another bowl of raspberries. If you ask nice, I’ll bet you can persuade Mr. Johnson to tell you a story.” She lifted her head. “I’ll keep ’em overnight. Looks like you two have some catching up to do.”
Sam knelt and placed his arms around both girls. “You go with Mrs. Molly. I’ll fetch you in the morning.”
Daisy wiped a sleeve across her eyes. “Are you going to die, Papa?”
“It takes more than a nosebleed to kill me, honey.”
“Your eye is all swollen.” Lucy stared at him, her face as white as paper. “You look scary.”
“I ran into a bit of trouble, but I’ll be right as rain in a few days.” Standing, he gave the girls a little push. “Molly? Thank you.”
As soon as he’d waved his daughters inside Molly’s house, Sam gingerly placed a hand against his ribs and groaned. “Damn.”
“Come inside,” Angie said, picking up her skirts. “I’ll heat some water. No, I already have hot water on the stove.” But where were her medical supplies? Under the sink. But there wasn’t much she could do. The only injuries she could doctor were his eye and his nose. “Sit there,” she said, pointing to a kitchen chair. “I need a rag.” Thank heaven it was laundry day. Everything was clean and at hand.