“If you go after Garrett, I’ll end up having to arrest you for assault, and that’d be after he kicks your ass because you can’t put all your weight on that leg. Do you think if he did this, I’ll let it go?”
“I don’t. Do you think if he did this, I will?”
Tate sighed, rubbed his face. “I’m going to deal with this. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Because his leg throbbed like a bad tooth, Callen sat again when Tate left.
“I’ll take care of Clintok for you,” Chase said.
He looked at Chase, shook his head. “I know you would, but I have to deal with this myself. Tate’s right about getting my ass kicked right now. So I’ll just heal up for a couple days.”
“Tate’ll have him in jail by then. He’s got an ATV.”
Callen nodded. “He’ll get out sooner or later. I can wait.”
“Well. I’ll get you a bedroll.”
“Get two,” Bodine told her brother before he walked away.
Callen looked up at her as Chase walked away. “Are you sleeping out here?”
“What do you think?”
He pushed himself up again, pulled her to him. “I don’t have it in me to shake you stupid for riding out there that way.”
“Good. I’d hate to kick your ass under the circumstances. What I will do is go get you the plate I expect Clementine has warming in the oven, and get you another beer. A couple of Motrin.”
“Four.”
“Four,” she agreed.
“Bodine.” As his horse had with him, Callen lowered his head to her shoulder. “Scared the shit out of me.”
“I know.” Just as she knew he didn’t mean getting shot. He meant coming close to losing his horse. “I’m going to go get your supper.”
He let her go, limped back to his horse.
He thought how he’d nearly stopped to pick Bodine wildflowers.
He wished he had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Bodine woke snuggled up against Callen. That in itself had become pretty usual. But the fact that they both were pillowed on Sundown’s chest added a brand-new element.
They’d slept better than she’d anticipated, especially since they’d left the lights on in case they’d needed to deal with any medical issues in a hurry. Right now the stall smelled of hay and horse and antiseptic.
And the horse snored.
She took that as a good sign as she eased herself away and sat up. She used her phone to check the time—five-fifteen. No, not bad at all, but her stable companions could use a couple more hours.
If it wasn’t inside the bedroll, she’d have checked Callen’s leg. Instead, she picked her way around, staying hunkered down to carefully examine Sundown’s wound.
Nasty, she thought, and there’d be some pain when he woke. But the wound looked clean. She laid a careful hand on Sundown’s belly. Warm, not hot.
After she crabwalked back, she stood, studied them. Unable to resist, she lifted her phone again, took a couple of pictures. She’d print one out, frame it for Callen. Hell, she might even toss one on the website.
Thinking of that, and Callen’s fancy riding show, she hunkered down again for another angle. A nice companion shot to the one of Callen, arm thrown up, and Sundown’s forelegs pawing the air.
“Morning?” Callen mumbled. “Seriously?”
“Barely. Go back to sleep. He’s fine,” she said as Callen sat up. “I checked the wound. No heat, looks clean. Let me take a look at yours before I go grab a shower.”
“It’s fine.”
“Then let’s see.”
He grumbled about it, but worked himself out of the bedroll.
The bruising, Bodine noted, bloomed glorious, but when she unwrapped the bandages, like Sundown’s, the wound looked clean. No streaks of red, no troubling heat.
“Got some swelling, but no more than expected. Looks like you’re both on the mend. And you’ve both got the day off to keep mending.”
“I’m fine. We’ve got a full plate today.”
“Which the rest of us will handle. Getting shot equals a sick day, horse and rider.” She tapped her finger against Callen’s chest. “I’m the boss of you. You’re not going to want to leave him anyway.”
She sat back on her heels. “I was so pissed off at you.”
“For getting shot?” His fingers raked at his hair. “Doesn’t seem quite equitable.”
“For not saying you’d been shot. And for shoving me away once I realized you had.”
“I can apologize for that part.”
“No need. After I stopped being pissed, which was mostly from being scared brainless, I thought about it. I’d have done exactly the same. We’ve got that in common, I guess.”
“Enough that I’d’ve been pretty pissed at you if the situation’d been reversed.”
“So we’re good there. Try for some more sleep. I’ll bring some coffee out after I get that shower. Then you can grab one of your own and some breakfast. Dad, Chase, Rory, Mom, any of the hands will stay with him while you get cleaned up and fed.”
“I know it.”
She started to stand, but he tugged her into a kiss.
“I value a woman who’d sleep in a stall with a hurt horse.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time for me, unlikely it’s the last.”
“I value it.”
She patted his knee, rose, pulled on her boots. “Stay off that leg.”
Listening to her boot steps recede, Callen gave Sundown—he knew the horse had waked—a rub. “Looks like I’ve crossed into new territory. She puts an ache in me I don’t know what to do with.”
He glanced down, met Sundown’s eyes. “Hurts some, doesn’t it? Well, let’s get up easy, you and me, and see how we stand.”
*
Seconds after Bodine shut her door, Alice opened hers. She walked quiet and had a quick flash of the girl she’d been sneaking into the house—or trying to—after curfew.
She knew about the hurt horse. Everyone had jumped up, and there’d been shouting and running. It had scared her at first, scared her that Sir had come to take her back. That he’d hurt her because she’d cut her hair and made it red like Grammy’s.
But it hadn’t been Sir. Somebody had been mean to a horse, and she wanted to see it. She liked horses. She could remember riding them and brushing them. She even remembered helping one get born once.
She wanted to see the hurt horse, but everybody said she shouldn’t worry. Everything was fine.
But she wanted to see the hurt horse, so she would.
Hardheaded. Mile-wide stubborn streak.
For some reason hearing those words in her head made her giggle. She had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound as she crept down the back stairs.
And she knew, she remembered where the creaky ones were. Oh my gosh, she remembered! Tears swam into her eyes as she navigated around them.
She hadn’t been outside yet, not once. She hadn’t even gone into the mudroom because she knew a door there led to outside.
Her stomach hurt, her bad leg hurt, her head hurt.
She should make tea instead. Some nice tea, and go work on her scarf.
“No, no, no. Don’t be a scaredy-cat. Don’t be a scaredy-cat. Don’t be a scaredy-cat.”