The Cowboy Who Saved Christmas - Jodi Thomas Page 0,103
you’ve been through.”
“Don’t worry about me. You didn’t even consider you could get yellow fever when you cared for me,” Ingrid reminded her.
“I had already been exposed caring for my parents, and I didn’t get it.”
“Well, I’m not going to get influenza.”
“You sound like your son,” Amelia murmured.
Ingrid laughed. Her eyes darted to her sleeping son, then whispered, “I’m not surprised. My husband always told me Clint inherited my hard head.”
“I’m going to ask Clint to take me to the ranch. I can take care of myself now. Casey can go for the doc if I need him.”
Clint wondered exactly how important Casey was to her. He moved in his chair to let them know he was awake. He stretched and opened his eyes.
“Hello, Son,” Ingrid said.
“Something smells good.” His eyes moved to Amelia. “How are you?”
“Much better. Your mother fed me soup.”
“I’m glad you’re eating.”
Ingrid stood to leave, then collected the tray. “I’m going to put our dinner on the table.” She looked at Clint and said, “Amelia is afraid we’ll get sick, so she wants to go home.”
“I told you she’s not going anywhere.” His eyes bounced to Amelia. “You’re staying put.”
Ingrid grinned at him as she left the room. He’d handled the situation just as she knew he would.
“But . . .” Amelia started to protest.
Clint held his hand in the air. “It’s settled.” He pulled his chair close to the bed and leaned over until he was mere inches from Amelia’s face and grinned at her. “So you think I’m wonderful, huh?”
Amelia’s eyes widened, realizing he’d been listening to their conversation. “Well . . .”
He arched his brow at her. “How about handsome?”
“I can’t believe you were listening to us. Wait until I tell your mother,” Amelia teasingly threatened.
Clint laughed. “Do you think she’ll be surprised?” He picked up her braid that was draped over her shoulder. “So, do you think I’m wonderful or not?”
“I believe my words were, you took wonderful care of me,” Amelia responded primly.
“I don’t think that is precisely what you said.”
Amelia couldn’t argue with him because she couldn’t remember her exact words. And she did think he was wonderful . . . and handsome.
Clint tugged on her braid until her lips were within kissing distance. “Doc says you should be completely well in a couple of days.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes on his lips.
Clint really wanted to kiss her again. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood and told her he would see her later.
* * *
The doctor checked on Amelia after dinner as Clint dried the dishes for his mother.
“Amelia is crazy about you,” Ingrid told him.
“What makes you think so?”
“The way her face lights up when she talks about you.”
Clint smiled, thinking of how she’d blushed when he was teasing her.
Ingrid handed him a plate and stared at him. “Do you return her feelings?”
Instead of answering her question, Clint asked one of his own. “What do you know about her husband?”
Ingrid told him what she knew about Amelia’s marriage to Richard. “Amelia’s sister was so in love with Richard, but, sadly, she died after Annie was born. Richard had serious injuries from the war and he knew his time was near. I know Amelia married him so the girls could stay with her and her parents when he died. Of course, no one could have predicted that Amelia’s parents would die from the fever. That left Amelia all alone with so many responsibilities on her shoulders.”
“What can you tell me about Casey?”
Ingrid dried her hands and turned to face Clint. “He’s worked for Amelia’s family for a few years. Amelia’s mother told me Casey fell in love with Amelia from the start, but I don’t think she returned his affection. He told Amelia he would stay at the ranch until she returned.”
Clint thought about the few times Amelia had mentioned Casey. He didn’t think she had feelings for him, but then again, she hadn’t mentioned Casey was in love with her.
* * *
After checking on Amelia one last time before he turned in for the night, Clint walked to the front room and found the doctor sitting by the fire. Two glasses were on the table between the two chairs. The doctor pulled a bottle of whiskey from his bag and filled the glasses.
He handed a glass to Clint when he took a seat. “For medicinal purposes.”
Clint laughed as he accepted the glass. “I haven’t had whiskey in a while. It’ll probably knock me out.”