getting shot
up might make a saint cranky , so she
decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
She dipped a cloth in the bowl full of water
that rested on the bedside table and began to wipe his brow.
“ My name is Maggie Bright,
Mr. Green,” she said. “I told you that last night, but I guess you
don’t remember.”
Suddenly Jubal did recollect having been
told that before.
“ Oh, yeah,” he said with a
bare hint of surliness in his voice.
What she was doing with that cloth felt
really good to him. He looked up at her suspiciously.
“ You’re not an angel?” he
asked, fearing the answer.
Maggie laughed softly. She had a very pretty
laugh, and that worried Jubal, too.
“ No, Mr. Green, I’m not an
angel. Just a widow lady on a farm in New Mexico Territory trying
to get you healthy again.”
But Jubal didn’t seem to be paying attention
after the first part of her explanation. “Then I’m not dead?” he
asked. There was just the faintest touch of fear icing the edges of
his words.
Maggie smiled at him tenderly. Jubal Green
touched her, for some reason. She guessed it was because he was
obviously a strong man and mad as hell at his present helplessness.
She supposed he wasn’t a man who allowed himself to be taken care
of any too often. If his size and strength were any indication, he
probably did most of the taking care. That thought started an
unsettling series of warm ripples flickering through her insides,
so she stopped thinking it immediately.
“ No, Mr. Green,” she said
softly. “You’re not dead, thank the Lord.”
He sighed weakly and looked relieved. Then
he nodded just a little bit.
“ You don’t look like an
angel,” he said. That was true. Maggie looked entirely too earthy
to be an angel in Jubal Green’s opinion. Not that that was a bad
thing.
Maggie wasn’t sure if she had just been
insulted or not, but she decided to let it pass if it was an
insult. “Would you like some water, Mr. Green?” she asked
instead.
Jubal thought about it. His tongue felt as
though it had been replaced by cotton wadding, and the inside of
his mouth felt like flannel. He guessed water sounded like a good
idea.
“ Yes.”
Then he was horrified when Maggie stopped
bathing his forehead and looked like she was going to go away.
Although it took an incredible amount of effort and hurt like fire,
he reached up and grabbed her by the wrist.
“ Don’t go,” he whispered. He
would have yelled, but it had taken all of his energy to grab
her.
Maggie was shocked.
“ I’ll be right back, Mr.
Green. I won’t leave you. I’m just going to get you some
water.”
Jubal stared at her in disbelief for a
second or two. Then his hand began to shake from pain and weakness,
and he let go of Maggie, although he didn’t want to. His hand
flopped back onto the bed, and he experienced a feeling of
incredible, terrible loss as he watched Maggie walk out of the
room. He shut his eyes and felt gloomier than he could remember
feeling since his brother died.
When Maggie came back to his bed a minute
later, carrying a glass of water, his eyes were still closed.
“ Mr. Green?” Maggie ventured
softly, wondering if he had gone back to sleep.
But his eyes opened immediately, at the
first sound of her voice. “You came back,” he whispered
incredulously.
Maggie smiled. “Why, of course, I came back,
Mr. Green. Why did you think I wouldn’t come back? I was just
getting you some water.”
As he listened to her explanation, Jubal
decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her the truth. He had
believed her to be a figment. He was really glad to know that she
wasn’t a figment, but was instead a real, live, peaceful woman
named Maggie who had brought him water. He struggled painfully for
a second or two, in a vain effort to sit up.
Maggie was appalled. “Mr. Green, stop that
right now. You just lie back there and don’t move. For heaven’s
sake, Mr. Green, you nearly died. You can’t sit up yet.
up might make a saint cranky , so she
decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
She dipped a cloth in the bowl full of water
that rested on the bedside table and began to wipe his brow.
“ My name is Maggie Bright,
Mr. Green,” she said. “I told you that last night, but I guess you
don’t remember.”
Suddenly Jubal did recollect having been
told that before.
“ Oh, yeah,” he said with a
bare hint of surliness in his voice.
What she was doing with that cloth felt
really good to him. He looked up at her suspiciously.
“ You’re not an angel?” he
asked, fearing the answer.
Maggie laughed softly. She had a very pretty
laugh, and that worried Jubal, too.
“ No, Mr. Green, I’m not an
angel. Just a widow lady on a farm in New Mexico Territory trying
to get you healthy again.”
But Jubal didn’t seem to be paying attention
after the first part of her explanation. “Then I’m not dead?” he
asked. There was just the faintest touch of fear icing the edges of
his words.
Maggie smiled at him tenderly. Jubal Green
touched her, for some reason. She guessed it was because he was
obviously a strong man and mad as hell at his present helplessness.
She supposed he wasn’t a man who allowed himself to be taken care
of any too often. If his size and strength were any indication, he
probably did most of the taking care. That thought started an
unsettling series of warm ripples flickering through her insides,
so she stopped thinking it immediately.
“ No, Mr. Green,” she said
softly. “You’re not dead, thank the Lord.”
He sighed weakly and looked relieved. Then
he nodded just a little bit.
“ You don’t look like an
angel,” he said. That was true. Maggie looked entirely too earthy
to be an angel in Jubal Green’s opinion. Not that that was a bad
thing.
Maggie wasn’t sure if she had just been
insulted or not, but she decided to let it pass if it was an
insult. “Would you like some water, Mr. Green?” she asked
instead.
Jubal thought about it. His tongue felt as
though it had been replaced by cotton wadding, and the inside of
his mouth felt like flannel. He guessed water sounded like a good
idea.
“ Yes.”
Then he was horrified when Maggie stopped
bathing his forehead and looked like she was going to go away.
Although it took an incredible amount of effort and hurt like fire,
he reached up and grabbed her by the wrist.
“ Don’t go,” he whispered. He
would have yelled, but it had taken all of his energy to grab
her.
Maggie was shocked.
“ I’ll be right back, Mr.
Green. I won’t leave you. I’m just going to get you some
water.”
Jubal stared at her in disbelief for a
second or two. Then his hand began to shake from pain and weakness,
and he let go of Maggie, although he didn’t want to. His hand
flopped back onto the bed, and he experienced a feeling of
incredible, terrible loss as he watched Maggie walk out of the
room. He shut his eyes and felt gloomier than he could remember
feeling since his brother died.
When Maggie came back to his bed a minute
later, carrying a glass of water, his eyes were still closed.
“ Mr. Green?” Maggie ventured
softly, wondering if he had gone back to sleep.
But his eyes opened immediately, at the
first sound of her voice. “You came back,” he whispered
incredulously.
Maggie smiled. “Why, of course, I came back,
Mr. Green. Why did you think I wouldn’t come back? I was just
getting you some water.”
As he listened to her explanation, Jubal
decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her the truth. He had
believed her to be a figment. He was really glad to know that she
wasn’t a figment, but was instead a real, live, peaceful woman
named Maggie who had brought him water. He struggled painfully for
a second or two, in a vain effort to sit up.
Maggie was appalled. “Mr. Green, stop that
right now. You just lie back there and don’t move. For heaven’s
sake, Mr. Green, you nearly died. You can’t sit up yet.
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