come to take her away, but she’d forced herself to stay put. No one knew she’d ridden in that last cattle raid. She’d eased out of her chair and tiptoed to the edge of the door leading into the living room. It hadn’t taken long to discover the man had come for another reason entirely.
She placed her hand over the bandage and lowered herself onto the edge of her bed. Libby had done a fine job of dressing it. She’d found some charcoal powder to draw out the poison and sprinkled it over the wounds before applying the bandage covered with salve.
Shame washed over her. She’d judged Libby, thinking her a spoiled woman who’d never known hardship, and here her boy had caused her grief for months—maybe even longer. Angel slipped away from the door when Libby started to cry, her sobs piercing the hard armor wrapped around Angel’s heart.
But she couldn’t let her guard down. If only she could find a place where she truly fit in, rather than just being tolerated. Travis kept her here out of desperation, not because he cared about her as a person. A rush of blood warmed her cheeks as the implication hit her. Of course he wouldn’t care about her personally, and she didn’t want that— did she? She tried to quench the longing that burned in her chest. It would be nice if Travis cared—and Libby too—but she wouldn’t set herself up for disappointment by expecting that.
A soft knock sounded on her door, and she pushed to her feet. Libby probably wanted to make sure her arm was all right. The throbbing hadn’t eased, and a terrible burning had started, running from the wound up past her elbow. She bit her lip and raised her chin. No need to be a baby. She’d been hurt before and hadn’t complained.
She swung open her door and stood rooted to the spot. Travis had his hand raised, ready to knock again. “Travis. Is everything all right?”
He took a step back. “That’s what I want to know. Are you up to talking?”
“Certainly.” Angel drew the door shut behind her. Her bandaged arm brushed the door frame, and she winced.
Travis drew in a sharp breath. “You’re in pain. I’ll send for the doctor.”
“No. I’m fine.” She turned away and marched down the short hall to the dining room and slid out a chair. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? It’s only a scratch.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s not what it looked like to me. Libby’s afraid it might require stitches.”
“She did a good job cleaning it. There’s no need for worry.”
Travis gripped the back of a chair. “You’re my employee, so I need to concern myself. An injury like this could lay you up for days.”
Angel’s stomach clenched in a knot and she took a step back. Here she’d been hoping for a place where she’d fit, and Travis made it clear he only cared about her doing her job. Fine. She’d do it whether it pained her or not. “It won’t. I’ll be back to work tomorrow. Don’t worry; you’ll get your money’s worth.”
His mouth fell open and he snapped it shut, then started to open it again.
Someone pounded on the door.
Travis glared toward the front of the house and spun away from her. “What now?” He stalked out of the room.
“Boss. You’d better get out here and Miss Angel too, if she’s inside.” Wren’s steely voice sent Angel racing out of the room. She hit the entryway and skidded to a stop in time to see James bolt in behind the cowboy.
The young man’s hands shook. “Miss Angel, your horse— she’s sick or something. She’s thrashing all over.”
Wren gripped the boy’s arm and pushed him back. “I think it’s colic. Looks bad.”
Angel emitted a strangled cry and leapt through the opening and across the porch. José had given her the filly when Bella was born. He suggested the name, explaining it meant “my beautiful one” in her mother’s language. Angel had taken one look at the long-legged foal and agreed. The baby had bonded with her quickly over the next few
She placed her hand over the bandage and lowered herself onto the edge of her bed. Libby had done a fine job of dressing it. She’d found some charcoal powder to draw out the poison and sprinkled it over the wounds before applying the bandage covered with salve.
Shame washed over her. She’d judged Libby, thinking her a spoiled woman who’d never known hardship, and here her boy had caused her grief for months—maybe even longer. Angel slipped away from the door when Libby started to cry, her sobs piercing the hard armor wrapped around Angel’s heart.
But she couldn’t let her guard down. If only she could find a place where she truly fit in, rather than just being tolerated. Travis kept her here out of desperation, not because he cared about her as a person. A rush of blood warmed her cheeks as the implication hit her. Of course he wouldn’t care about her personally, and she didn’t want that— did she? She tried to quench the longing that burned in her chest. It would be nice if Travis cared—and Libby too—but she wouldn’t set herself up for disappointment by expecting that.
A soft knock sounded on her door, and she pushed to her feet. Libby probably wanted to make sure her arm was all right. The throbbing hadn’t eased, and a terrible burning had started, running from the wound up past her elbow. She bit her lip and raised her chin. No need to be a baby. She’d been hurt before and hadn’t complained.
She swung open her door and stood rooted to the spot. Travis had his hand raised, ready to knock again. “Travis. Is everything all right?”
He took a step back. “That’s what I want to know. Are you up to talking?”
“Certainly.” Angel drew the door shut behind her. Her bandaged arm brushed the door frame, and she winced.
Travis drew in a sharp breath. “You’re in pain. I’ll send for the doctor.”
“No. I’m fine.” She turned away and marched down the short hall to the dining room and slid out a chair. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? It’s only a scratch.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s not what it looked like to me. Libby’s afraid it might require stitches.”
“She did a good job cleaning it. There’s no need for worry.”
Travis gripped the back of a chair. “You’re my employee, so I need to concern myself. An injury like this could lay you up for days.”
Angel’s stomach clenched in a knot and she took a step back. Here she’d been hoping for a place where she’d fit, and Travis made it clear he only cared about her doing her job. Fine. She’d do it whether it pained her or not. “It won’t. I’ll be back to work tomorrow. Don’t worry; you’ll get your money’s worth.”
His mouth fell open and he snapped it shut, then started to open it again.
Someone pounded on the door.
Travis glared toward the front of the house and spun away from her. “What now?” He stalked out of the room.
“Boss. You’d better get out here and Miss Angel too, if she’s inside.” Wren’s steely voice sent Angel racing out of the room. She hit the entryway and skidded to a stop in time to see James bolt in behind the cowboy.
The young man’s hands shook. “Miss Angel, your horse— she’s sick or something. She’s thrashing all over.”
Wren gripped the boy’s arm and pushed him back. “I think it’s colic. Looks bad.”
Angel emitted a strangled cry and leapt through the opening and across the porch. José had given her the filly when Bella was born. He suggested the name, explaining it meant “my beautiful one” in her mother’s language. Angel had taken one look at the long-legged foal and agreed. The baby had bonded with her quickly over the next few
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