"Why?"
"You can't do everything, Jay – not with so many to care for now. The younger boys need some chores to do too. And you'll be learning new things as you get older."
"More important jobs?"
Allie had started for the kitchen, but she stopped and turned to face him again. "They're all important, Jay. Can't make pancakes if the eggs don't get brought in and the cow milked. Eating's pretty important."
He nodded sagely. "I understand. I know who can help." He turned to go, stopping on the way out to give Big Mack a pat.
As he opened the door, Allie could hear other voices calling to him in greeting.
"She said yes!" he yelled.
It brought a smile to her lips as she began to measure the flour and baking powder into a large mixing bowl.
In the next second, she gasped as two strong arms came around her from behind. Brandon kissed her neck. "I was about that excited when you said 'yes' too," he murmured close to her skin.
She smiled, a shiver of delight sliding through her as his teeth nipped gently at the skin at her nape. "Over pancakes?" she asked innocently.
"Huh-uh. Over sleeping with me… Marrying me… Other things…"
She laughed, setting down the bowl and turning to face him. His arms tightened, pulling her close against his solid bare chest. "Sleeping with you, and…the other…yes. But I don't think you were quite that excited about marriage." Her smile faded at his serious look. "Were you?"
He leaned forward, putting his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss. "Yes," he said firmly. "Don't doubt it, Allie. Don't doubt me."
She put her tongue out, as he drew away, tasting him on her lips. At his slow smile, heat rushed to her face, but she couldn't hold back her answering grin. "I don't."
****
After breakfast, Doc motioned Brandon to the bedroom where he and Owen examined him one last time before leaving for Spring Branch. The boys had all gone to the barn to care for the livestock and become familiar with the chores that would be expected of them here.
At last, when the healing whip furrows and the bullet wound had been cleaned and the shallow knife gash examined, Brandon put out his right hand for Doc to unwrap. Doc's eyes met his in a brief, searching gaze, and then he carefully began to remove the bandaging. Owen stood by, his face impassive as Doc reached the last two wrappings. He unfurled them, dropping the bloody bandage to the floor.
Allie stepped inside the door, closing it behind her.
"Don't flex it," Doc warned.
Brandon grimaced. "I wouldn't dream of it, Doc."
Doc adjusted his glasses, peering closely at the damage Smith's men had inflicted. His brows knit and he cocked his head, turning Brandon's hand this way and that. "Mmm…"
Brandon sighed with impatience. "Are you gonna tell me what the hell you're thinkin' or just—"
Doc smiled at Brandon's frustrated tone and stepped back, releasing his wrist. "It's looking good, son. I think you're going to heal just fine, but you won't be able to use it for awhile."
"That's not gonna work."
"Why not?"
"Too much to be done, Doc." Brandon shook his head. The hand felt pretty good. Maybe— "I know what you're thinking and you can forget it. Ruining your hand won't help anyone in the long run."
Brandon shot him a look. Damn it. "So what is it you suggest I do, Doc? Sit around and watch the cattle mill, stampede, starve…" He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. Useless. That's what he was right now. So much work to be done and no way he could do anything to lighten Allie's burden.
Wasn't that what a husband was supposed to do? He wasn't sure how he could help her, or protect her, when it came right down to it. Arnie Smith was out there. He'd be coming soon. If not him, then some of his men. He couldn't sit by and do nothing while his hand mended.
Doc laid a palm on his arm. "Don't push this, Brandon. Using it can damage it permanently. You don't want that." His eyes held Brandon's for an instant. The risk of losing the use of his hand meant everything. Life or death. They both knew it.
Brandon nodded. "No. I'll take it easy, Doc." He glanced away. "What, exactly, can I do?"
Doc let out a relieved sigh and began to gather the salves, bandages, and medical implements he'd used earlier, putting them back into his bag. "Supervise, mostly."
Brandon gave a mirthless chuckle.
Owen stepped forward. "If I may – perhaps I could be of some help."
Doc gave him a sideways glance. "How's that?"
Owen's lips quirked. "I don't know much about cattle wrangling, but I might be of some assistance – at least until things have settled a bit more here with the boys…" His voice trailed off as Brandon raised his head. Doc turned quickly.