Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

  Chapter 21

  Clint's eyelids fluttered, but he couldn't open them. He heard a chair scrape, and his heart shot into fourth gear. Rose Marie? He jumped slightly at a cold cloth against his eyes.

  "Sorry. Trying to loosen the crusties. Hold still a minute."

  Ah, Mary. Good. He heaved a breath and his heart settle back into tempo.

  Mary pressed the wet cloth against his right eye, then the left, rubbing until the lashes were free of gunk. "Okay. Try that."

  Clint slowly forced his lids open to narrow slits and stared at Mary. The light shining through the little bedroom window stung his eyes.

  "You lucid?"

  "I'm here." His voice was hoarse and weak. "Water?"

  "Of course. Here." She raised his head to give him a sip. "Better?"

  He nodded.

  "Now, tell me how you're feeling."

  He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from her. "Tired. Beat up. Sad about wasting my life on the wrong women." He coughed and swallowed. "Anxious to see Jessie."

  Mary laughed. "Well, at least you have your sense of humor intact."

  "I meant every word of that." His voice was gaining strength. He looked directly at her. "How long have I been out?"

  "Three days."

  "Three days? Not possible!"

  "I wish it weren't true. We thought we were going to lose you." He saw the fear in her eyes and knew the truth. "Your fever got so high we had to douse you with stream water to keep it down. I don't know what bug you had in you, but I hope it's finally gone now."

  "I've got to get to Jessie. It must be torture for her, thinking I'm up here having my way with Rose Marie." He winced. "She might have gone back to California or done something else rash. I gotta get back to the ranch. Help me up!"

  "Wait just a gall-darn minute, young man! The last time you tried to sit up, your eyes rolled back in your head and you didn't come out of it for three days. Now, let's take this a bit easier this time. Can you do that?"

  "Fine. But help me, will you?"

  Mary tugged at one arm and with his help managed to pull him to the edge of the bed with his feet flat on the floor. He leaned against Mary as she settled in next to him. After he sat for a spell she gave him small sips of water. Tugging the sheet over his hips, she said, "Okay, sit for a bit to get your bearings. I'm going to warm you up some broth. We have to get your strength up."

  When Mary left the room, Rose Marie came gliding in, looking every bit the beauty she was. Her day dress was pale blue, the color of her eyes, and her shiny blonde hair hung in waves around her pretty face. She shut the door quietly behind her. Clint pressed his forearms heavily onto his thighs and hung his head, trying to stop the spinning.

  "Aren't you an absolute sight? Could they get any more inviting than you?" she whispered on a gush of breath.

  Without lifting his head, he brought his gaze to her. Just looking at her made his blood boil. "Turn yourself around and go back out the way you came."

  "I know you're not well, but you don't have to be so testy. Listen, Clint . . ." She cleared her throat. "About the other night—I think the best course of action would be to get to know each other better."

  "Why?"

  He could tell he'd surprised her.

  "Are you saying you don't remember what happened?"

  "I'm saying I'm not interested."

  She looked astounded. Likely no one had ever told her a thing like that before.

  "Jessica's sweet, Clint, truly she is. But, you two don't . . . match."

  Rage hit him with an extraordinary impact, like the boom of unexpected thunder directly overhead. Part of him wanted the complete annihilation of this puffed-up tart while the other part was trying to analyze why he was so angry. He should be flattered. At the very least he should be in agreement about Jessie. "Truth is, sister, I've never hit a woman before. But if you don't turn your backside right around and go out that door, you'll tempt me to change my good record." "Now, Clint, you don't really mean that. You're worn out and tired and probably hungry."

  "Hungry all right. But not for the likes of you!" He felt a flood of relief. No matter how things went with Jessie, he planned to leave the life of endless promiscuity behind, permanently.

  "So, that's the thanks I get?"

  That comment did it. The last one he wanted to hear from this haughty vamp. He was on his feet then, holding the sheet to his groin, swaying once, then moving toward her. "Get out!"

  She backed up, threw open the bedroom door, and dashed out.

  Mary staggered out of the way with a bowl of soup in her hands. "What's going on?" Soup sloshed over the sides and soaked into the throw rug on the floor. "Oh, for Pete's sake."

  Clint barely made his way back to the bed, hoisted the sheet up to his chin, and flopped backwards. The bed springs bounced under his weight. "Come on in, Mary. Why bother knocking?" With his gaze fixed to the ceiling he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

  "Who put a sticker in your craw?" She sucked the soup off her finger. "You didn't seem to mind when we sat up with you all hours of the day and night fighting for your life, now did you?"

  "Sorry, Mary, it's just that your granddaughter seems to be itching for me and—"

  "Well, you are very handsome. And don't forget . . . naked."

  Clint went on as if she hadn't spoken. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My way of life has finally bitten me in the backside. Why couldn't I see that before now?"

  Pain etched his face, he knew, since he could see the compassion on Mary's. She set the soup on the nightstand and parked herself in the chair to have a heart to heart. "I think it took a pure and gentle spirit like Jessica's to show you the way back to God and a righteous life."

  "Whoa, now. I'm not talking about God. I'm talking about giving up carousing. That's enough, isn't it?"

  "Give up carousing? For what exactly?" She sighed and waved a slender hand at him. "Never mind. Forget I asked that. We'll talk about it another time. Here, have something to eat. We need to get you stronger. We should probably get you dressed, too, so Rose Marie will quit gawking at you."

  "Yeah," he breathed out. "Let me do that first, if you don't mind finding my clothes. I'll put them on in layers if need be."

  A short time later, Clint shuffled into the kitchen, hands braced on whatever would support his weight as he moved. But at the sight of Mary's bowed head, he made a beeline for the kitchen table. "I heard the door slam. What happened?"

  Mary watched him as he came around to sit in front of her. "Rose Marie's upset because I called her on the carpet for what she did to you three nights ago."

  Instant heat climbed up his neck.

  "I don't think I've ever understood that girl. Sometimes I think she's manipulative and spoiled and full of herself, like now. But the truth is, Clint, other times she is deep and centered and has agendas all her own. One's I don't know anything about. She's a mystery." Mary sighed. "And she's growing farther away from me every year."

  "What did she say just now?"

  "Right now she seems to want you. I should warn you, she usually gets what she wants. I think it would be prudent if she were to return home. She'll only cause more pain if she stays. I fear she'll stop at nothing to get you interested, or at least muddle things up for you and Jessica—"

  "There's no me and Jessica!"

  Mary waved that off. "Have you seen my granddaughter? As you can imagine, she's not used to losing."

  Clint pondered that thought for a long moment. "I guess you'll be praying then."

  Mary's face went rigid with surprise.

  He saw her pleasure and cringed. "I said you'd be praying, Mary. Not that I would."

  She smiled sweetly. "Fair enough. I'll do that."

  "Now, I need to get back to the main camp."

  Rose Marie came back into the cabin in time to hear Clint's statement. "I'll go with you. You mustn't ride all that way alone after being so sick." Sitting down right next to him, she sm
iled sweetly, almost apologetically, up into his face.

  Veronica had been good at this same act. Cocking his head to one side, he studied her intently. She was a ravishing beauty, all right, yet he was surprised at his absolute lack of interest in her. In fact, he felt nothing, except disgust for his own shallowness. He had caught a true glimpse of himself, through his reaction to her, and didn't like what he saw.

  "I'll leave at first light. No one is coming with me."

  Mary looked troubled. "No, Clint. Rose Marie is right; you can't go on your own. You've been way too sick, and more than once you've fallen into delirium at the drop of a hat. You can't risk it. I won't let you."

  "I'll go with him, I said," Rose Marie reiterated.

  Mary rounded on her. "Well, I won't let you go with him alone granddaughter. We'll leave at first light. All of us."