dust.
âHowâs the patient doing?â She walked into the room behind the other woman and stopped in front of her dressing table.
Jericho sat up in bed just as she had left him, wearing the clean white shirt sheâd found in his saddlebag. A dark beard covered his chiseled jaw, testifying to the fact that he was still too weak to shave. So far, heâd waved off Catherineâs offers to do the chore for him.
Secretly she was relieved. Just being in the same room withhim put that strange heat in her belly. She didnât want to be within inches of him. His dark, ragged hair was brushed back, drawing her eye to the scar on his left cheekbone. Though he still looked gaunt, there was a bit of color in his face.
Davis Lee Holt, the sheriff, smiled broadly at Catherine. His blue eyes sparkled. âI think Jerichoâs on the mend, Nurse.â
âIâm glad to hear it.â She glanced at her patient, but couldnât hold his gaze, which had turned hot and measuring.
âWe sure appreciate you taking him in.â Riley Holt, a handsome, broad-shouldered man, flashed her a dimpled smile that made her wonder how his cousin would look if he smiled that way. âWeâre gonna owe you a lot for this. We know he can be difficult.â
âHumph,â Jericho grumbled.
âIf you have any problems at all, you send for me.â Davis Leeâs eyes twinkled.
âAnd youâll lock him up?â she teased.
âIf I need to.â
âIs this the kind of nursing you were taught?â Jerichoâs tone was light, but Catherine felt his intense regard like a touch.
She smiled as the others chuckled.
Susannah touched Catherineâs arm. âI brought a few things. Flour, eggs and milk.â
The Holts had already done too much by paying for her motherâs burial before Catherine had arrived. âThat wasnât necessary, but thank you.â
âI also brought some biscuits. I thought Jericho might like them.â
âDo you like honey with them?â she asked her patient. âHaskellâs General Store had some fresh yesterday.â
âHeâd eat honey on everything if you gave him a chance,â Riley said with a grin.
âYeah, even tree bark,â Davis Lee added.
âBiscuits and honey sound good,â Jericho said to Catherine. Pain drew his features taut, but he didnât appear in any hurry for his family to leave.
She saw him glance at his injured arm for the third time since sheâd arrived. âI talked to the doctor about your hand.â
That blade-sharp gaze shifted to her. âWhat about it?â
âI had a patient in New York with a similar injury to his foot and ankle. He eventually recovered the use of both.â
âSurgery?â Jericho asked tightly.
âNo. I massaged his muscles every day and he worked on trying to bend his ankle.â
Interest sparked in his eyes. âAnd it worked?â
âYes. He was finally able to walk. He did limp, but he was pleased with his progress.â
âItâs worth a try,â Davis Lee said.
Jerichoâs gaze measured her. âAnd youâd be willing to do that for me?â
âOf course.â
For a long moment, he was silent.
Catherine added, âIf you want.â
He gave a curt nod. âThank you. When do we start?â
âDr. Butler wants to check you again tomorrow. He can tell us then when to start and how often it needs to be worked.â
âGood.â Jerichoâs gaze went past her to the door. âHello.â
She turned to find Andrew standing there. By the saints, the boy moved as silently as a ghost. No wonder she hadnât known about his nightly disappearances.
âHi.â She smiled warmly and stepped toward him. âHow was school today?â
âAll right.â His blue gaze locked on Jericho.
âHello, Andrew,â Susannah said.
The boyâs gaze jerked to the
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