In the daylight, he didn’t look nearly as menacing, but his huge frame spilled over the chair. “I heard you get up. The food and coffee are hot and ready. Are you rested?”
“Yes, sir, and I’m starved.” She smiled. “Thanks. I feel so much better.”
“There’s water in the basin, and any other business can be taken care of out back.” He frowned. “You’re skinnier than a fence post.”
“I know, Doc. I’ll take care of myself real soon. What about Morgan? How’s he doing?”
“He’s holding his own, and that’s a good sign. The crucial hours have passed.” He folded his newspaper and stood from the chair. “I’ve given him something to make him sleep for a couple more hours.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done. I couldn’t begin to list it all.”
Doc shook his head. “Don’t you go bawlin’ on me. It’s my job to heal, and I’m glad I could help. Now go take care of things so you can eat. You’re as white as Morgan. And there’s plenty more food if that doesn’t fill you up.”
She snatched up her hat from a hook near the front door and twisted her hair up underneath it. She tucked in each strand, then lowered the brim over her eyes. As she strode past the cookstove, she grabbed a biscuit and bit into it hungrily. Never had anything tasted so fine.
*****
Casey positioned her jeans and shirt over the cookstove and patted them impatiently. They needed to dry faster. One small bloodstain refused to fade from her shirt. A grim reminder of the preceding day. She yanked on the piece of rope holding up Doc’s pants around her waist, thinking she’d drown in his clothes. The amount she’d rolled up at the ankles could have made her a dress—not that she owned any.
My, she felt good with hot food in her stomach and a clean body from a hot bath—it felt like the sun beating down warm after a cold spell. Morgan still slept, but Doc said he was holding on well.
She glanced about the room for signs of Morgan’s or her belongings. Earlier she’d removed her hat from the hook near the front door and placed it in the bedroom where Morgan slept. Only the drying clothes remained in view.
Soon she must make plans to leave Vernal. When Morgan woke and she saw his recovery, she’d be gone. Without any money, she wondered how she’d pay for the doctoring and medicine. Her only choice was to send it once she found work.
Casey slipped into a huge rocker near the stove and drew her knees to her chest. It must have been constructed especially for Doc, because the size of it swallowed her up. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers through damp hair to speed up its drying.
“You’re quiet.” Doc rubbed his stubbly chin.
“Oh, I’m just thinking.” A smile for Doc came easily. If only Tim had half this man’s qualities, then maybe he’d leave Jenkins, too.
“About what, may I ask?”
“Um, nothing in particular, mostly thinking about life. Right this minute I want to believe I’m safe. Morgan’s still alive. Jenkins isn’t at your door. I’m fed and clean. Looks to me like everything is just fine.” She nodded her head.
“Doesn’t take much to please you,” he said. “If it didn’t mean facing outlaws, I’d ask you to stay. Marry you up. Maybe I could put some meat on your bones. Have a dozen kids.”
“Make me fat and sassy?” Casey closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocker. “I think you just want someone to cook and clean for you.”
“And keep me company and probably do a little nursing when all the chores are done.” Doc chuckled.
She waved her arms in mock ridicule of his suggestion. “Chores? I don’t do chores. Besides, I haven’t made a bed in years.”
“Then what do you do?” He leaned forward on his chair, obviously enjoying their bantering.
“I’m always on the run or waiting to be on the run.” But your offer is tempting, too tempting.
“Guess I could be a traveling doctor. We’d make quite a pair, Miss Casey.”
“Yes, indeed we would.” She captured the warm glow of his soft brown eyes. She could stay here, but it wouldn’t be fair to Doc. A woman needed to love a man before she married him. “Doc, you saved Morgan’s life. He’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for you.” She poked her finger through a cinder hole in the knee of the trousers. “But I’m not sure exactly how