Merline Lovelace Read Online Free PDF

fare-thee-well.”
    Suzanne tapped a finger on the table. The oddest sensations swirled in her chest. Annoyance, mostly, edged with a stinging little nip of regret. Really, why should Sloan’s abrupt departure surprise or disappoint her? He’d certainly made it plain that he didn’t care what happened to her or the others. After his sarcastic suggestion that she hustle her bustle, the man hadn’t spoken ten words to her during the long trek back to Ten Mile Station.
    Yet there was that moment, when he’d held Suzanne locked against him…
    The Misses Merriweather would faint dead away if they knew how desperately their star pupil had wanted to rise up on her toes and take a taste of Black Jack Sloan’s hard, unsmiling mouth.
    Her mother would understand, though. JuliaBonneaux Garrett looked, spoke and acted like the proper officer’s wife she was, but she loved the colonel with all the passion of her French-Creole heritage.
    A heritage Suzanne evidently shared more than she’d realized. None of the embraces of her various beaux had fired her blood like those few moments in Sloan’s arms. The fact that she could still feel a little spurt of heat deepened the crease between her brows.
    Thoughtfully, she removed her gloves and hat and placed them beside the merchant’s case. The battered case recalled Suzanne to the fact that her own grip was still aboard the coach…and that another stage wasn’t due in until Thursday.
    Well, she certainly didn’t intend to sit idly at this isolated way station for four days. Like Sloan, she had pressing business elsewhere.
    “I could string up a blanket.”
    With a wrench, she brought her whirling thoughts back to the young man standing before her.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “I could string up a blanket, so’s you could take off your boots and, uh, stockings.” The inevitable red climbed into his cheeks. “You’d better soak your feet before your blisters fester.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Butts. I’ll do so immediately.”
    “Please, ma’am,” he pleaded with an embarrassed smile, “could you see yourself clear to callin’ me Matt? I just can’t get used to hearin’ a ‘mister’ hung ahead of my name.”
    “Very well, Matt it is. If you’ll string up that blanket, I’ll see if I can find a basin and the station manager’s supply of medicines.”
    She located a dented tin wash bowl readily enough, but soon discovered that the on-hand medicinal supplies were limited to horse liniment, turpentine and a half-empty bottle of Dr. Harvey’s Rheumatic Tonic and Dyspeptic. After one whiff of the tonic, Suzanne decided to place her faith in the simple remedies Bright Water had taught her over the years.
    “I saw some agrimony growing among the weeds by the corral,” she said to Matt. “Would you be so kind as to fetch me a few stalks?”
    “I would if I knew what it was.”
    “It’s a tall, spiky plant with yellow flowers.”
    Grabbing his hat from the table, he jammed it onto his thatch of straw-colored curls. “You sit down and rest. I’ll fetch them flowers and be right back.”
    “Not just the flowers,” Suzanne called after him. “I need the whole stalk.”
    Deciding to visit the necessity out behind the shanty, Mr. Greenleaf asked Suzanne if she’d look after his case. He, too, departed, giving her a few moments of badly needed privacy to slip out of herjacket, unbutton her blouse and wash away the accumulated dust and grime. She had herself back together again and had put a kettle of water on the hob to boil when Matt returned with an armload of sticky-leafed stalks.
    “I always thought these were just weeds.”
    “Most people do, but I have a good friend who taught me something of the medicinal properties of these plants.”
    “Is he a sawbones?”
    “No, a Northern Arapaho medicine woman.”
    Matt’s blue eyes widened. It was obvious he found it exceedingly odd that a lady like Suzanne would call an Arapaho friend.
    “I’ve never come across any