“Oh.” Her eyes drifted closed, her brow still furrowed.
“I’m making some willow bark tea. If you can get her to drink, it’ll help with the pain. But now I’ll leave you to tend to her fever, Mr. Cochran.” Catherine closed the door behind her, the chamber pot in her hand.
Jesse removed Tori’s spectacles and put them on the small table beside the bed. He pushed her hair aside so he could run the cloth over her neck, then her arms and legs.
When he finished, he pulled the sheet up and sat back.
With all the animation gone from her face, she had the appearance of a broken bird, delicate and small. And young. Too young for the burdens she carried. Already, dark circles appeared under her eyes.
Catherine brought the willow bark tea for Tori and a plate of supper for him. He ate the meatloaf, potatoes, and biscuit without tasting anything, his eyes on Tori the whole time.
“You and Mrs. Cochran are welcome to use this bedroom for as long as you need it. It’s an extra room, so you won’t be inconveniencing us.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate it. And please thank your husband for me as well.”
“I will. We’ll be in the parlor for a while if you need anything else. Good night.”
Jesse woke to the sound of moaning. One candle, burning on a small table, breached the darkness. Disoriented, it took him a minute to remember his whereabouts. The farm house. Tori’s snakebite.
A sharp pain shot up his back. He’d fallen asleep in the chair next to the bed where she thrashed. Yawning, he rotated his neck and shook his arms to ease the stiffness. He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. Her fever had risen again.
A short trip brought him from the bedroom to the kitchen. The small house remained quiet and dark. He refilled the pitcher with water from the barrel outside the back door and returned to the bedroom.
She’d kicked off the light sheet, and tugged on her chemise. Once again he ran a cool, wet cloth over her heated skin. He smiled at the small pink ribbon threaded through the top of her chemise and tied in a perky bow right above her breasts. Who would’ve thought sensible teacher, Tori Henderson, hid such fripperies under her clothes?
When he finished, he pulled the sheet back up. He stood for a minute, glancing between the hard chair and the bed. Then he stretched out next to her and fell asleep.
Bright light and heat touched Jesse’s face. He flung his forearm over his eyes, but when he attempted to turn to avoid it, his body wouldn’t move. He peeled open his eyes and blinked. Tori had wrapped herself around him, her head on his chest, a fever flushed arm around his waist. Twisted underclothes left one breast exposed. His heart thudded. If she picked that moment to wake up, his life span would shorten. He eased out from beneath her.
Please God, don’t let her wake up now.
He checked her forehead for fever. It had spiked.
A low whistle escaped him. A riot of damp black curls spread over the pillow, her curves visible, from her generous breasts to her shapely calves. Full hips swelled from the indented waist.
This woman was made for loving. Nothing skinny or scrawny about her. Places to hold onto, to bury his face in, and no danger of getting poked with a sharp bone. He groaned and grabbed the pitcher. Before he got the cool water for Tori, he should douse himself with it first.
Chapter 6
“Good morning, Mr. Cochran. Is your wife any better?” Catherine stood a distance away from the stove, her swollen belly almost touching the pan filled with frying eggs.
“She slept the night, but her fever is back.” Jesse smiled, and headed to the back door.
“These things take time. I’ll have breakfast ready in a few minutes. You should take a break and come eat with us. I’m sure Mrs. Cochran will be fine for a while. Then you can take more tea to her.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Jesse filled the pitcher once more, returned to the bedroom, and again wiped Tori’s fevered body down with cool water. Using the same water, he washed up and combed his hair. He would make a quick visit to the privy before he joined the Coles for breakfast.
No longer frantic with worry over Tori, Jesse took time to study his hosts over the breakfast table. Catherine Cole was tall and of slender build. A plain woman, she had a soft voice and gentle manner. Her advanced pregnancy gave her radiance much more important in a wife than beauty. Stephen was a big man, what some would call rough around the edges. He openly adored his wife, and glowed with pride every time his eyes wandered near her large belly.
Love and contentment between the couple filled the room. Would he ever have that? He’d spent most of his adult life alone. After law school, he lived for a while in St. Louis, before seeking a better opportunity in Oklahoma Territory.
At twenty-eight, he needed to give serious thought to a wife and family. But it irked him the only woman who’d ever caught his eye, that prickly woman in the next room, would likely turn his own rifle on him. And wait till she looked under the sheets and discovered he’d undressed her.
After breakfast, he checked on Tori, and found her fever down for the moment. Catherine had convinced him his patient would be fine if he left her for a while. She promised to check on her and let him know if her fever rose again. After one last glance, Jesse left to help Stephen with his chores.
Tori opened her eyes and blinked. A pregnant woman adjusted sheets on her bed, the swollen belly brushing Tori’s face.
“I hope I don’t sound peculiar to you, but I’m not sure who you are and where I am.” A frog had taken up residence in her throat.