across her waist. He stretched, then was still and his breathing calmed.
She risked a glance as she turned to face him.
He was sound asleep.
Chapter 7
When Cozette woke the next morning, Michael was gone but his new boots and coat remained in her room, looking very much like he’d tossed them there before taking his bride to bed.
She stood, removed her wrinkled dress, and hurried into her morning clothes. She wanted to check on her father before the rest of the house came awake.
The doors between her room and Michael’s were open. His room was empty and for a moment she thought her part-time husband might be gone. She stared out the window until she spotted him in a corral near the main barn. He was on horseback, circling the corral as if testing one of her father’s horses. He wore the tailored trousers and starched shirt she’d left for him along with the leather vest. He looked the part of a rancher.
Two of her three uncles-in-law were hanging on the fence watching Michael. She had no doubt the third little round man was outside her door on guard.
The two on the fence both had on the clothes she’d sent down for them to wear. She’d picked the largest clothes from their stock of work trousers and flannel shirts and asked one of the girls to hem all the pants up at least six inches.
How could Michael be so tall and lean and have three relatives who looked like tree stumps?
As she watched, one of the uncles opened the gate and Michael bolted out across open land at full gallop. He could ride. Not like a gentleman from the East might ride, but like a cowhand used to living in the saddle.
After a few minutes, he turned the horse and raised his hand. Several riders joined him. Within minutes they were galloping at full speed toward the open range. Just before they crossed the ridge, he turned his head toward the house . . . toward her.
Cozette stepped back as if she’d been caught spying. She darted out the bedroom door and headed down the back stairs to the kitchen. The sound of her chubby bodyguard rattled along behind her.
In the kitchen she sat Uncle Moses down at one of the worktables and promised not to try to slip away. “Stay here and have your breakfast. I’m going to check on my father. You can watch the door to his office while you eat.”
Moses nodded, liking the idea of being able to stand his guard while sitting at a table eating.
Cozette hurried down the hall wishing she’d checked on her father before she’d gone to bed. She knew there was nothing she could do for him, but still she needed to know when anything changed.
The doctor was sitting beside the bed when she entered the office. A stack of bloody towels nearby was almost as high as the mattress.
The doctor shook his head slowly. “No change and I don’t think we could wake him this morning if we tried.”
She moved to the other side of the bed and took her father’s hand. His fingers were colder than they had been the first day she’d returned home. He no longer opened his eyes, or spoke to anyone. He might not be in pain, but he was less with the living than he’d been yesterday.
“I’ve made him as comfortable as I can,” the doctor whispered. “His heart grows so weak I’m not sure I hear the beat sometimes.”
She looked up at the doctor and he added in a voice so low he almost mouthed the words, “I’ll be surprised if he’s here much longer.”
Cozette nodded and took her place beside the bed. A few hours later she was aware of the doctor leaving and of Michael coming in. He walked to her side and kissed her cheek without saying a word. She watched as he moved to the massive desk and began looking over the accounts. His trousers were stained, his shirt was sweaty, and his old boots were dusty. Her husband was looking more and more like the rancher she’d asked him to become.
When the housekeeper brought lunch, he stopped long enough to sit across from Cozette by the window. She ate only a few bites. When she smiled her thank-you to him for not trying to talk to her, he seemed to understand.
As they finished and stood, he pulled her to him for a tight hug, and then she tugged away