cape and stepped into the hallway. She could hear her father yelling.
He’d lost at poker and was too drunk to notice the mud on her clothes. All he wanted to do was go home. When they reached the barn, he borrowed one of his men’s horses and had two of the cowhands ride with the women.
Her sisters complained about the lack of blankets until the men offered an arm around them. Laurel sat in the back too worried to be cold. She ordered the man driving to go faster, but he was in no hurry to get home. The road seemed endless.
When they finally made it, she ran in the house and up the stairs. Minutes later she was dressed in her wool riding clothes and leather jacket. Tossing all the supplies she could find in a bag, she started out of the house.
At the front door she almost collided with her father and one of his men.
“Where do you think you are going?”
Laurel knew better than to tell him the truth. She might be twenty, but he’d think he was well within his rights to lock her in her room if he thought she was leaving. “I’m going to check on my mare.”
“At this hour?” He wasn’t sober enough to figure out why her story made little sense.
“I couldn’t sleep. I think the mare might have hurt her leg.” She lifted the bag as if to prove what she was doing.
The cowhand laughed. “The horse isn’t the only one hurting tonight.”
To her shock, her father laughed and seemed to forget about Laurel. “We need a drink.” He put his arm around the cowhand. “You’ve put in a long day.”
Laurel disappeared the minute they turned the corner. She didn’t like the feeling gnawing away inside her. Despite all her father was, until now she never would have believed he would have done something so unfair. He wanted his men to win tomorrow and he seemed to be covering his bet with a beating.
She shot out of the barn and rode full out into the rain. Once she reached the water, she had to slow because the banks were slippery. She would do Rowdy no good if she broke her neck getting to him.
Ten minutes later, she stepped into the cabin.
Dan had built a fire and laid down straw to soften the bedroll. The rain had washed most of the mud off them both, but Rowdy was still bleeding.
Without a word, she set to work. Dan watched, fetched water when she needed more and kept the fire going, but he was helpless in doctoring.
“He started talking out of his head about halfway home.” Dan paced as he mumbled. “Kept wanting to know where you were and if you were all right. He thought you might get yourself in big trouble for coming to the barn.” Dan stopped and watched her for a while. “You care about him, don’t you, miss? That’s why you came even knowing it might not set well with your old man.”
“I do care,” she answered.
“Does your father know?”
“I have a feeling he might know something about Rowdy being hurt, but not about us.” She could only guess how angry her father would be. “If he did, they might have killed Rowdy tonight.”
Dan nodded, understanding. “I’m going to take care of the horses and then, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll sleep with my rifle on that porch. You just call me if you need me.”
“Thanks,” she said as he lifted Rowdy enough so she could circle a bandage around his ribs. “I’ll give him enough medicine to ease the pain. Maybe if he can sleep, he’ll feel better tomorrow morning.”
Dan left, closing the door. Laurel worked for another hour cleaning every cut until the bleeding stopped and keeping a cool rag on the back of Rowdy’s head. She knew no one would miss her until breakfast so she could stay until sunup and have plenty of time to get back.
Finally, exhausted, she curled next to him, placed her hand over his heart and fell asleep.
Chapter 9
Rowdy woke feeling warm in the calm darkness. He moved and felt pain rattle through his body.
He smiled, remembering how worried Laurel had looked. She couldn’t have known that he’d taken far worse in prison.
Silently, he took inventory. He was hurt but nothing was broken. In prison he’d been in fights where he wasn’t sure he’d ever stand much less walk again. This seemed mild in comparison.