For two long days and nights, Josie Miller stayed with her patient, watching him and studying her law books. The stranger was now her responsibility, medically and legally. Will would be after him soon, wanting to move him to the town jail. She’d better be ready to defend his rights if she wanted him to stay and recuperate.
Fact was, he still wasn’t well. A fever had swept through his body and turned him into the devil. Josie fought him physically when periodic bouts of half-consciousness made his body convulse, and she soothed him with comforting words when his cries for someone named Ben turned into tears of rage. Ben seemed to give him the strength to survive, and she began to feel a growing admiration for her patient’s unyielding determination to find him.
Who was this Ben, and how did he fit into this mysterious man’s life?
————
Will Spencer was convinced that this was a dangerous man, but he’d had no report of any criminal activity on which to base his fears. He came by the Millers’ house frequently, but he seemed to agitate the man, so Josie banned him from the sickroom.
Lubina was too frightened to enter the room at all and hovered outside the door renouncing Josie’s patient as the devil.
“I saw the black-and-white horse the night he came,” she said on the fourth day after the stranger’s arrival. “The Indians believe the stallion es the death horse.”
“That horse is just some maverick out looking for mares,” Josie argued.
“Then tell me why he came in the middle of a storm, the very same night that devil in there came?”
“I can’t.” Josie walked to the open door and stared at the distant hills. A huge, dark cloud loomed on the horizon. “But maybe we’ll see him again. There’s another storm brewing.”
As if fed by the energy of the storm, Sims Callahan began to wake. From behind closed eyes, he sensed the flash of lightning and heard thunder roll across the heavens like a herd of stampeding cattle. He thrashed wildly for a moment in a fit of confusion, but as the storm quieted he grew still.
A brisk wind blew across him, pushing away the darkness, bringing the fragrance of clean rain and, finally, awareness.
He opened his eyes and began to focus on the woman sitting in the chair beside his bed. She had slumped forward, apparently asleep. Her head rested against his shoulder and as her hair brushed against his chin, he could smell the sweet womanly scent of her.
He stroked her arm. “Am I dead?”
Josie jerked herself up and stared in amazement. “Not yet. But you’ve been a very sick man. I’ve done the best I can, but I’m no doctor. Your life is in God’s hands.”
Whoever the woman was, she had spunk. “Well, I hope His hands are gentler than yours, darlin’. You damn near killed me.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
Wind gusted through the open window causing the lamp to flame. Callahan saw that her eyes were blue, the midnight kind of blue that cloaked the plains when a storm rode through the region. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Josie Miller, but I asked you first. Are you an outlaw?”
No answer. The man had closed his eyes. He’d drifted off to sleep, or at least he’d pretended to.
“Coward!” Josie sighed in frustration.
The clouds emptied in torrents, rain hitting the mountains with a vengeance. She ran toward the window, reaching for the shutters to close them against the onslaught. Outside, a lightning bolt lit up the darkness, and she saw him, the ghost horse. The great black-and-white stallion stood on a ridge, looking down, his tail held high, and his mane whipping in the wind. He was just as Bear Claw had once described.
Her heart raced. She wasn’t certain which had caused it: the violent storm, the ghost horse, or the dangerous stranger lying in her bed.
Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, the stallion vanished.
Will Spencer came by the next morning with an announcement. “I’m moving your patient into town, Josie, even if it kills him.”
“I put out the word about a wounded man. There’ve been no holdups or bank robberies recently. All I’ve got is a herd of fancy, unclaimed imported cows at the rail yard. Apparently Sims Callahan and his younger brother, Ben, were delivering a saddlebag full of money to pay for them, but they never arrived in Laramie. I have a feeling your man may be one of the brothers or knows what happened to them. If he doesn’t, I’ll have to send the steers back.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t send them back without a legal writ.” Josie was already planning a defense, but something Will had said stuck in her mind. He’d mentioned Ben. She knew that name—all too well. The wounded man had called it out over and over in his feverish state. “Where are the Callahan brothers from?”
“Sharpsburg now,” Will answered, “but I understand that they’re originally from somewhere in the east—the Carolinas, I think. The two came up with the idea to invest in these cattle. They brought some other ranchers in on the deal, but the Callahans insisted on driving the cattle home. Now the money has disappeared, and your patient seems to match the description of one of the brothers.”
“Well, then, how’d this one get shot?”
Will shook his head. “I don’t know, and until I do I want him in jail. I’m sending a couple of the ranchers out here to identify your patient. They’ll bring a wagon to move him.”
“My patient cannot be moved, Will.” Josie had battled to save his life and she wasn’t about to lose it now. “The law plainly says that prosecution of larceny is based on proof of the defendant’s intent to steal. My client would have had to make off with the money, and he certainly wasn’t carrying a saddlebag filled with money. Bear Claw would have said so.”
Josie knew she was protecting a man she knew nothing about. But she also knew that Dr. Annie had once done that for her. She now felt sure that this dark-eyed man was Sims Callahan. But until Will produced evidence, she refused to believe that he was a thief. If Dan and Dr. Annie hadn’t rescued her from her life as a pickpocket when she was ten years old, she could well be the one the sheriff was after now.
This man was as alone and vulnerable as she had once been. Even if he was guilty, he deserved a fair trial. And Josie Miller would make sure that he got one. After all, she was the best lawyer in Wyoming, or at least she would be someday.
“You don’t understand, Josie. Those ranchers are pretty darn mad. I’m taking him into protective custody—for his own good.”
“No, Will. If I have to call Bear Claw and the Sioux Nation to protect him, that’s what I’ll do.”
Will finally accepted, with one stipulation. “Promise me you’ll send for Bear Claw and make him stay around until we know who your patient is. For now, be careful and keep that toothless old stable hand, Wash, close to the house.”
“I will,” she agreed. Anything to get him out of the house before her patient called Ben’s name out loud. She led Will to the door, opened it, and stood impatiently while he walked to his horse.
“Oh,” he said, turning back, “Ellie sent you this.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew something wrapped in a piece of velvet.
“Ellie?” she repeated, knowing that his use of Ellie’s first name was out of character for Will, who was usually very proper. “What is it?” she asked, hurrying toward him.
“She called it a payment on what she owes you. Normally, I’d have refused to bring it, but considering the current situation in your home, maybe it’s a good idea.”
Inside the material was a lady’s derringer, its finish polished to perfection. “I can’t take this.” She couldn’t take a gift from Ellie, knowing how much of a sacrifice it had been for the girl. Josie had more money than she’d ever need. She’d made a lot of money playing the stock market with her grandfathers while she’d lived in New York. It was still sitting untouched in the Sinclair Bank, earning even more every day. She hadn’t decided yet what she would do with the money, but a need would show itself eventually.
Will shook his head. “Don’t think you have much of a choice. That saloon girl is a proud little thing. She’s already quit her … job.”
“Quit her job?” When Josie had told Ellie to change her life, she hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. “Will, you’ll help her find something else, won’t you?”
His expression spoke louder than his words. “Like what?”
“Like maybe at the general store.”
He gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Josie, no self-respecting housewife is gonna buy from a woman like Ellie.”
“I’m no housewife, but if somebody doesn’t give her work soon. I’m going to open a store and hire her myself,” Josie said. “If a woman wants to change her life, someone should help her do it.”
Will shook his head. “You and Dr. Annie. Always looking for a challenge, mostly on behalf of someone else.” He looked toward the clinic and his attention was drawn to the derringer. “You just be careful,” he cautioned. “You can shoot it, can’t you?”
“Every woman in the west knows how to shoot a gun, Will.”
Long after Will’s horse had left the courtyard, Josie was still dwelling on his words. Be careful. That’s what her grandfathers had advised when she left New York to practice law in Wyoming. Of course, they’d added one more thing: but don’t let it stop you from taking a chance if it’s a good one. Go with your hunch, Josie. Josie thought about the times she’d beaten those two at poker and she laughed to herself at the memory. Nothing would stop her grandfathers from taking a chance—even a bad one. Roylston Sinclair was seen by many as a prissy intellect, and Teddy Miller never pretended to be anything more than the gambler he was. How the two lovable old rascals ever produced upstanding children like Annie and Dan Miller was a mystery. Josie should have been their daughter.
Her grandfathers would understand why she was taking a chance on her patient. Explaining her actions to her adoptive parents might be harder.
Still, she had a hunch about this man. In the absence of proof, lawyers set their defense on instinct all the time. She just wasn’t sure if women should do the same thing.
The door opened and shut. Callahan heard her soft footsteps approach the bed. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was her, the golden-haired woman who had flitted through his dreams. There was a spark deep inside him, in a place her fingers hadn’t touched.
He’d been awake for awhile and when he was finally ready to open his eyes, she was the first thing he saw.
“I’ve come to wash and shave you.”
“No!”
“No? Well I’m sorry, but I don’t intend to touch you again until I get rid of the smell that’s plaguing my mother’s clinic.”
“That’s not all you’re going to have to get rid of,” he growled, “if you don’t bring me a chamber pot.”
Stunned by his announcement, Josie stared dumbly for a moment and then scurried to the washstand, returning with a china pot.
“Help me sit up!” he said.
She slipped her arm beneath his shoulders and lifted, avoiding his stormy gaze. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d cleaned up after him, but he’d been unconscious then. Now he was—she looked at his heaving chest—one very conscious, virile man. She guiltily cast her eyes to the ceiling as she strained to lift his back.
“What the hell?” He swore and came to a sitting position. “I’m naked as a damn jaybird. Where’re my clothes?”
“I burned them.” She handed him the pot.
He took it, almost dropped it, and cursed again.
“Let me hold it,” she said, trying to sound like Dr. Annie would have.
“Close your eyes,” he demanded. He was hopping mad.
The sound she heard brought an unwelcome blush to her cheeks. She wouldn’t have thought, after his fever, that he’d have stored so much bodily fluid. He must have swallowed more of the broth than she’d thought. Finally, there was silence.
“I am.”
Josie covered the chamber pot and lowered it to the floor. She put her arm around him for support as he leaned back. His strength surprised her. Something almost physical sparked between them, hot and strong. He interrupted the moment by reaching for the sheet. “I assure you, Mr. Callahan, you have nothing I haven’t seen.”
“And I’ll bet you took a good look, didn’t you?”
Her face flamed. “I would never take advantage of you,” Josie said haughtily. “After all, I am a well-respected member of the community. A lawyer, in fact.”
He frowned. “None of the lawyers I know are women.”
Josie fumed. “Well, if you are Sims Callahan, you’d better hope and pray that you’ve finally met one because the sheriff’s got a posse out looking for a couple of outlaws—the Callahan brothers, Sims and Ben. Seems they’ve disappeared along with a saddlebag full of money that was supposed to have paid for a herd of cattle. When you were brought to the house, you were out of your head. You kept calling out for someone named Ben. I’m thinking that means you’re Sims.”
“They didn’t find Ben?”
“You were the only one that Bear Claw found.”
Callahan wrinkled his forehead. “Who’s Bear Claw?”
“He’s the chief of a Sioux tribe who lives on part of our land. He’s a friend of ours—and yours too, now.”
Callahan lay still, absorbing all of this new information. A sea of questions swept through his mind. What had happened to Ben? Did he get away? Or was he lying out there somewhere, full of bullet holes? He felt like a caged bear. Helpless. Unable to do anything. “Get me some clothes, Miss—what is your name, anyway?”
“It’s Josie Miller,” she replied. “Miss Miller to you.”
“And my horse?” he asked, ignoring her response.
“You have no horse. At least, Bear Claw didn’t bring it in. And it wouldn’t matter if you did. You wouldn’t get ten feet before you’d be food for the coyotes.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, and tried to sit up once more. Dammit, he had to get out of here. Ben’s life was at stake.
“No, Mr. Callahan, you don’t understand. You’ve been more or less unconscious for four days, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re tough, but right now you’re very weak. It’s going to be a while before you can leave this house. Please be still, Sims.”
“Call me Callahan,” he said wearily. “And I’m not a thief, damn it.”
He had admitted to being a Callahan. Fear washed over Josie. He was the man Will Spencer was looking for. But she still wasn’t convinced that he had committed a crime. She knew how it felt to be branded a thief, even when you weren’t.
Callahan knew she was right. He was too weak to go searching for Ben. He stopped fidgeting, then closed his eyes for a long, silent moment. “I really wasn’t out of my head all the time. I kinda enjoyed waking up to my guardian angel lying next to me.”
“I’m not an angel. Now he still while I shave you.” Josie lathered her hands with a cake of soap and plopped suds on Callahan’s face. She’d never shaved a man, but she’d watched her adoptive father, Dan, shave often enough. Not much to it, she decided, working suds into Callahan’s thick, black beard. His whiskers curled around her fingers and made her remember her initial reaction. Sims Callahan had hot hair.
She reached for the straight razor.
“I hope you know how to use that,” he said.
“Nope,” she admitted. “But I expect I will have learned by the time I’m done, won’t I?”
After she got rid of the beard, she washed his face and neck and chest. Lord, he had a broad chest. He didn’t complain when she changed his shoulder bandage, though she knew it hurt. But when she reached to pull down the sheet, her fingers hesitated. Viewing his manhood had been difficult enough when he was asleep. Now, he was awake and aware of every move she made.
“If it’s your mother who is the doctor, why are you treating me?”
“She’s away on a holiday. Since I’ve helped her over the years, Bear Claw brought you to me.”
“How many men have you washed?” he asked.
“Plenty,” she snapped, tugging at the sheet. “Now let go.”
“First, let me have your hand, Josie,” he said, ordering her, not asking.
He took her hand in his large calloused one and laid it on his stomach. She couldn’t conceal the jolt of awareness that shot through her.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, Miss Josie Miller. It is Miss, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. I’ve never married. And I never intend to.”
“I take it that means you’re a virgin?”
Josie gasped at the embarrassing assumption.
“Then you’d better close your eyes, or you’re going to see a man’s body announce its reaction to a woman.”
Josie didn’t have to ask what Callahan was talking about. The sheet that was resting on his lap began to rise and thrust forward as if it had a life of its own.
“It’s called desire, darlin’, and it’s happening. Right now.”
“No,” she whispered, and fled from the room, bumping into Lubina, who was bringing clean towels.
“What’s wrong, Josie?”
“He’s alive,” she said dryly.
“Of course he es alive,” Lubina repeated. “You said he would live.”
“Yes, but he seems to have a new problem,” Josie announced loudly. “His male organ is becoming enlarged. He’s a very sick man so it must be”—her voice got deliberately louder, enough for Callahan to hear it—“infection. Draining it is a medical procedure Dr. Annie never taught me. I’m going to have to study my medical books.”
Lubina crossed herself. “Dear Holy Mother,” she repeated, gazing heavenward. “Whatever you do, don’t let Miss Josie figure it out.”