Cale spent the morning scouting. Returning to the scene of the ambush, he discovered chaotic tracks, making it difficult to determine what happened to Lange and One Ear. However, he didn’t find any bodies, indicating they likely lived. At this point, Cale couldn’t risk tracking them farther. He would stay with Tess until she healed, then decide if they should continue the search for Hank. The more involved he became with Tess, the more he considered proceeding alone.
Cale returned to Blight's house with a bundle of wildflowers he'd come across. He’d never considered himself an overly romantic man, but the impulse to do something nice for Tess struck. He found her, still in bed, watching a blackbird in a cage.
“What's this?” he asked.
“She's injured, and Vern is caring for her. He said I could help.”
As he moved closer, the bird squawked and shifted.
“Shhh, Amado,” Tess cooed. “El no te hará daño.” He won't hurt you.
Cale took it as a sign of progress that Tess no longer viewed him as a male who would harm her. He brought the flowers from behind his back. The wonderment on her face told him she’d never received such a gift.
“They're beautiful.” She took the bundle from him. “Gracias.”
“I thought you might like them.”
She smelled the collection of red and yellow flowers, and offered him a bright smile. He stared, wondering where the usual Tess had gone.
“I was waiting for you to return,” she said. “Would you carry me out to the porch to sit?”
“Of course.”
She pushed the blanket from her, and he saw she still wore the nightgown that Blight had somehow dug up for her. The thin material did little to hide her round, enticing breasts. He put out of his mind that Blight had unclothed her, since the man had been trying to help, maybe even saving her life in the process.
And he’d put out of his mind twice glimpsing her nakedness in the last two days while looking after her. He wouldn’t allow lust to enter his thoughts while she was clearly in so much discomfort.
Now, the situation was changing.
He slid his arms beneath her and carried her outside to the porch.
“You smell nice,” he murmured.
“Vern brought me rosewater, and I was able to clean up. I’ve never known a man to be such a good housekeeper.”
Trying to quell the sudden urge to run his lips down her neck, Cale settled her onto a worn-smooth rocker, catching an eyeful of the cleft between her breasts.
Damn.
He paused, his face near hers, as her hands lingered on his shoulders. “For an invalid, you’re awfully enticing.”
She brought a hand to his cheek and ran fingers across the day’s growth. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
“Nah. I’d say it’s the other way around.”
“What do you like in a woman, Cale?”
“No. I’m not doing that. I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are. And for the record, I like everything about you.”
“Why?”
“Damn if I know,” he teased. “As it is, I have to carry you everywhere.”
She frowned and pushed against him.
He leaned in for a fast kiss. Grinning, he kissed her again until she laughed. “Wait here.”
Cale returned with a blanket and an empty tin can. He scooped up the flowers she’d dropped to the porch and arranged them in the container, then added water from a nearby barrel. He set it beside her, then brought a wooden chair and placed it on the other side.
She lifted the blanket he’d placed on her lap. “I’m too overheated to use this.”
He sat and leaned back in the chair. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Tess. If you don’t cover your loveliness, I’m not gonna remember my own name soon.”
A pleased smile crept to her lips, and he was struck with a satisfaction far more fulfilling than if he’d bedded her.
Well, bedding her would be nice, too.
He was still a man.
“What about Amado?” she asked.
“Right.” He went back to the bedroom and returned with the caged bird, placing it on the far side of her. He resumed his seat.
“I could tell you a story,” she offered.
“That’d be nice.” He found a piece of hay and stuck it in his mouth.
“Do you have one you’d like to hear?”
“You take requests?” He thought for a moment. “When I was a boy living in Virginia, my mama would sometimes tell me about animals that lived in the west. My favorite was the coyote. He always had a knack for surviving, and he was a smart-aleck, too. I guess that appealed to me.”
“That makes sense.” She shifted a disheveled braid across her shoulder, her face still flushed from their encounter.
He enjoyed watching her, and tried to be unobtrusive about it. “Maybe you should tell a tale about a blackbird. I wonder, if you listen closely, if Amado would tell you a story.”
“Sometimes I wonder what world you're from, Cale.”
Her comment struck a chord. He'd been wandering a long time. His ma had told him he'd likely travel the world by the time he was thirty. He hadn't quite done that, but she was probably one of the few people who'd had an uncanny insight to him.
“I could say the same about you.” He drank in the sight of her, sunlight illuminating her green eyes and rosy lips.
“I have a tale I heard that was attributed to the Navajo, about a coyote and a group of lizards.” She paused and shifted into her narrating persona. “Coyote liked to spy on others. He was nosy that way. One day he noticed a group of lizards playing a game, so he came close to watch, but they pretended not to see him. This annoyed him, because he very much enjoyed being noticed. He moved closer. ‘What game is that you're playing?’ he asked.”
Cale settled in, enjoying the change of cadence in her voice, as if it opened a portal to a different time and place.
“‘We call it sliding,’ one of the lizards answered,” she continued. “They took turns sliding down a hillside on a flat rock. Once at the bottom, they would carry the rock back to the top.
“‘Well, I would like to play,’ said Coyote.
“‘Oh no,’ the lizard answered. ‘You can't do it. You will be killed.’
“Coyote didn't believe that—in fact, he was quite certain he would be the best slider they'd ever seen. He insisted on being given the chance to try. The lizards finally agreed, but were adamant that he could only ride the small rock, and not the larger one. He agreed, but in his mind, he fully intended to ride the larger one.
“The lizards brought the small rock to the edge, balanced it while the coyote climbed on top then tilted it downward. Away he went. When he got to the bottom, he felt quite satisfied that he could do this, and better than them. He brought the small rock back to the top and demanded to ride the larger rock.
“After much discussion, the lizards finally agreed, saying that if Coyote wanted to kill himself, then it was his choice. They set up the large rock for him, and down the hill he went. But the rock got caught on a smaller one and flipped, sending Coyote high into the air. Terrified, he knew he was in trouble. ‘The lizards had been right,’ he thought. ‘I'm going to die.’
“He landed hard on the ground, and thought maybe he was safe, but then he could see the large rock flying right toward him. In despair, he knew he was going to die.
“From higher up the hill, the lizards watched as the large rock smashed into Coyote, crushing him to death. They didn't feel sorry for him, for they had warned him all along of the fate that awaited him. They wondered what they should do, however. Moving Coyote would be difficult, as he was very big. They could just leave him there, but he blocked the pathway for their fun game. It was agreed that they should bring him back to life. So, working with a certain magic that only they knew, they formed a circle around Coyote's lifeless body and revived him.
“The oldest lizard said to him, ‘Now go on, and leave. And after this, don't try to play lizard games. We don't want you to die again.’ So Coyote ran off, happy to be alive.”
Tess went quiet and they sat for a time in the silence of the afternoon.
“All Coyote wanted to do was participate in the fun,” Cale said, still chewing on the piece of hay.
“But maybe one should stick to his own kind.”
“Miracles do happen. The lizards saved him after all.”
Tess smiled at him, and rocked the chair, but only a little. “Do you believe in miracles?”
He considered for a moment. “I think sometimes we get help where we least expect it.”
“What about your half-sister, Molly? She lived with the Comanche. That must’ve been difficult for her. Some might say her return was a miracle.”
“She’s strong, in a way that reminds me of you. I think you’d like her.”
“I hope one day to meet her.”
Cale reached out and took her hand. “If you’re asking if I’d ever take you to Texas, then the answer is yes.”
She leaned her head back against the rocker. “Don’t say things you might not mean.” Her soft voice held no censure, only echoes of broken promises.
“I don’t.”
He laced his fingers with hers, and they sat in a companionable silence as the creek flowed beyond, Amado pecked at her cage, and the trees played with a barely-there wind.