Buckhorn Beginnings Read Online Free PDF Page A

do until you all get the hell out of here.”
    The brothers took the hint and reluctantly began inching out. Before they could all go, though, Sawyer asked, “Any dry clothes in her things, Gabe?”
    â€œNope, no clothes that I saw. Mostly it’s books, hair stuff…junk like that.” He dropped the box of framed photos on the floor in front of the closet.
    â€œI don’t suppose any of you have a housecoat?”
    Three snorts supplied his answer.
    If Honey hadn’t been feeling so wretched, she would have smiled. And she definitely would have explained to Sawyer that the clothes she wore would have to do, because she wasn’t about to strip out of them.
    â€œAny type of pajamas?”
    He got replies of, “You’ve got to be kidding,” and, “Never use the things,” while Morgan merely laughed.
    Squeezing her eyes shut, Honey thought, No, no, they’re not all telling me they sleep in the nude! She did her best not to form any mental images, but she was surrounded by masculine perfection in varying sizes and styles, and a picture of Sawyer resting in this very bed, naked as a Greek statue, popped into her brain. Additional heat swept over her, making her dizzy again. She could almost feel the imprint of his large body, and she trembled in reaction. She decided it was her illness making her muddled; she’d certainly never been so focused on her sexuality before. Now, she was acutely aware of it.
    She opened her eyes and would have shaken her head to clear it, but she was afraid the motion would make her unsettled stomach pitch again.
    Casey stuck his head into the room. “I have an old baseball jersey that’d fit her.”
    â€œNo, thank you—”
    Sawyer easily overrode her. “Good. Bring it here.”
    The brothers all looked at each other, grinning, then filed out. Sawyer leaned down close, hands on his hips, and gave her a pointed frown. “Now.”
    â€œNow what?” All her worries, all the fears, were starting to swamp back in on her. She coughed, her chest hurting, her head hurting worse. She felt weak and shaky and vulnerable, which automatically made her defensive. “I’ll be fine. If…if Morgan would pull my car out, I’d be appreciative. I’ll pay you for your trouble….”
    Sawyer interrupted, shaking his head and sitting on the side of the bed. “You’re not paying me, dammit, and you aren’t going anywhere.”
    â€œBut…”
    â€œHoney, even if he gets your car out in the morning—and there’s no guarantee, figuring how it’s stuck in the mud and it looks like a storm’s on the way—but even if he did, the car will need repairs.”
    â€œThen I’ll walk.”
    â€œNow why would you wanna do that? Especially considering you can barely stand.” His tone turned gentle, cajoling. He produced a thermometer and slipped it under her tongue, making it impossible for her to reply. “We have plenty of room here, and you need someone to look after you until you’re well.”
    She pulled out the thermometer. “It’s…it’s not safe.”
    â€œFor you?”
    Honey debated for a long moment, considering all her options. But he was trying to help, and with every second that passed, she grew more tired. The bed was so soft, the quilt warm, if she was going to move, it had to be now before she got settled and no longer wanted to. She started to sit up, but Sawyer’s large, competent hands on her shoulders gently pressed her back on the bed.
    Not bothering to hide his exasperation, he said, “Okay, this is how it’s going to be. You’re either going to tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to take you to the hospital. Which’ll it be?”
    She searched his face, but the stubbornness was there, along with too much determination. She simply wasn’t up to fighting him. Not right