The ground shifted beneath Matt’s feet and he deepened the kiss, needing to taste more of her.

Annalise made a small sound in the back of her throat. Before Matt could do more than register her reaction, she suddenly pulled away.

“No,” she panted, color streaking her cheeks. “I don’t want this.”

That damn sure wasn’t how it felt. Feeling as though he’d had the wind knocked out of him, Matt tried to collect his wits.

“You aren’t going to hurt me again.” She gathered up her skirts, grabbed her medical bag and ran.

Whirlwind Reunion

Harlequin® Historical #1023—January 2011

Author’s Note

Does anyone remember the Western TV series set in the 1880s that introduced “newfangled” scientific techniques like we have today? I was immediately hooked on the idea and dubbed it CSI: Bonanza. But how to use it? It stayed in the back of my mind as I wrote my Whirlwind series.

Matt Baldwin, like his brother, has been part of the series from the beginning. Though introduced as Whirlwind’s most infamous ladies’ man, he is also the leader in the hunt for a gang of vicious rustlers. As such, he’s been targeted.

When those rustlers catch up to him, so does his past, in the form of Dr. Annalise Fine. Ambushed and left for dead, Matt is Annalise’s newest patient. No one has seen anything like his strange injuries or has any idea what could’ve caused them. Cue my CSI: Bonanza idea. What could be more perfect than giving my heroine the knowledge of a newfangled way to analyze and identify the unique wounds?

Matt wants nothing to do with the woman who rejected his marriage proposal and left him to become a doctor. She has no intention of mending fences with the sexy cowboy who broke her heart. But in order to find his attacker, they must join forces. I hope you enjoy their story.

Happy trails.

Debra Cowan

Whirlwind Reunion
Debra Cowan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Available from Harlequin® Historical and DEBRA COWAN

Whirlwind Bride #690

Whirlwind Wedding #722

Whirlwind Groom #738

Whirlwind Baby #859

Whirlwind Secrets #979

Whirlwind Reunion #1023

Other works include:

Silhouette Intimate Moments

Dare To Remember #774

The Rescue of Jenna West #858

One Silent Night #899

Special Report #1045

“Cover Me!”

Still the One #1127

*Burning Love #1236

*Melting Point #1370

*Wild Fire #1404

Silhouette Nocturne

Aftershock #49

“Seeing Red”

Silhouette Romantic Suspense

The Private Bodyguard #1593

The Vigilante Lover #1598

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as ebooks?

Visit www.eHarlequin.com.

To heroes, past and present.

Praise for
DEBRA COWAN

“Cowan’s stories have the charm, tenderness and sensuality that captivate and enchant.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Merging the elements of homespun, Americana romance with a strong western atmosphere, Cowan succeeds at tackling big themes in a tender way.”

—RT Book Reviews on Whirlwind Secrets

“Whirlwind Baby is an excellent book, not only for its message [about child abuse], but also for the heartwarming story.”

—Cataromance

“Whirlwind Groom is a book not to be missed.”

—Romance Junkies

“Cowan takes the qualities of an Americana western, adds the grit of a chase and writes a tale that also has deep family ties, pulsing sexual tension and the harsh reality of the West.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Whirlwind Bride is an utterly delightful kickoff for what promises to be a great miniseries.”

—Reader to Reader

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

West Texas, 1886

Matt Baldwin could go straight to perdition. Dr. Annalise Fine couldn’t stop the thought as she watched the dark, handsome, lowdown snake he had once loved. Who had once claimed to love her.

On a cool April night, she stood on the edge of the dance floor in the lobby of the Fontaine, the fancy hotel where his brother’s wedding celebration was underway. The big, rugged rancher hadn’t looked at her once. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him.

Even though she had been back in Whirlwind, Texas, for two months, this was the first time she had set eyes on him. His wavy black hair was longer than she remembered ever seeing. Slightly ragged, it brushed the stand-up collar of his white dress shirt. The crisp fabric stretched across shoulders that were more broad than the last time she’d seen him. Touched him.

His frame was solid, hard, from the strong line of his sun-bronzed neck to the powerful thighs beneath his dark trousers. Trousers that fitted him so well they bordered on indecent. Her chest tightened painfully.

The notes of a waltz filled the air, swelling over the clink of glasses, conversation and dancers. She had known she would see Matt, and she had made herself come anyway. It was time to get it over and done with.

His brother, just as big and an inch taller, swept his dark-haired bride around the floor. Russ hadn’t stopped smiling since before the wedding.

Like Annalise, Matt’s father, J.T., wasn’t dancing tonight. An accident he’d suffered several months ago had left him crippled.

Cora Wilkes, a lifelong friend and now a widow, thanks to an outlaw gang, stood talking to him. Tall, with perfect posture, the older woman walked over to Annalise. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she sipped her second glass of champagne.

Annalise glanced at the big man, still surprised each time she saw him in the wheelchair. He had been a good friend to her father and to her, especially during the year she had cared for Hardy Fine before he died.

“Is Mr. Baldwin expected to walk again?” Annalise asked when Cora paused beside her.

“Dr. Butler first had hope, but now he isn’t sure. J.T. isn’t recovering the way the doctor had anticipated.” Cora’s face softened. “Has J.T. asked you to look at his leg? He said he might.”

“Not yet.” Considering the way his youngest son felt about her, Mr. Baldwin probably wouldn’t ask, regardless of their former friendship.

Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore Matt, and that had frustration churning in her belly.

As he escorted a curvy redhead into the dining room, Annalise noted with resentment that his rugged good looks hadn’t faded in the last seven years. If anything, he was more compelling. With those smoldering blue eyes, his was a face that had a woman sighing. Annalise should know; she’d done her share.

But there was more to him than just his looks. Beneath the easy charm, the slow drawl often mistaken for laziness, was a razor-sharp intellect and a keen instinct about people.

“I think I’m finally getting used to seeing your name over the medical clinic instead of your daddy’s,” Cora said. “Hardy would be so proud of you.”

She hoped so because Matt sure hadn’t been. He reappeared in the dining-room doorway, this time with an unfamiliar blonde, and Annalise jerked her gaze away to scan the lobby. The polished wood of the oak floor matched the large registration desk positioned to greet people when they walked through the double doors.

Russ and his wife, Lydia, had done a wonderful job with the hotel that had been built in the years Annalise had been gone. Pewter wall sconces above the moss-green sofas on either side of the desk burned continuously on gas lighting. The high ceilings and the staircase opposite the registration desk were accentuated with oak molding.

Annalise had known many of the people here since childhood: Davis Lee and Riley Holt, Bram and Jake Ross. Now all except Bram were married.

“Did you finalize the purchase of Jed Doyle’s house?” Cora asked.

“Yes.” Annalise smiled, thinking how perfectly it had worked out that the gunsmith had wanted to sell his house just as she had returned.

The frame building was exactly what she needed. She used the upstairs for her living quarters and the first floor for her medical clinic, the way Jed had used it for his gunsmithy.

“Have you seen any patients yet?”

“Several, and some people have dropped by to introduce themselves. Everyone has been welcoming.”

Except Matt. Annalise didn’t want a welcome from him. Which was good because she knew she could wait until hell froze over and she wouldn’t get one.

“Russ’s wife seems nice.” She smiled as the groom tugged the bride into his arms and kissed her. The resulting burst of applause surprised Annalise.

“Lydia’s very nice. Smart, too. She came here as Russ’s business partner. They both owned half of the Fontaine.” Cora chuckled, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the party. “She keeps him on his toes. I’m starting to wonder if Matt will ever settle down, and so is his pa. Especially now that Russ is married.”

Annalise’s stomach knotted. She didn’t want to talk about Matt settling down. She didn’t want to talk about him at all. She made a noncommittal noise.

Cora continued, “He’s with someone different every time I see him.”

Annalise could say the same. From the corner of her eye, she was well aware of Matt whirling a raven-haired beauty around the floor. Evidently the man who had once sworn to belong only to one woman—to her—no longer limited himself.

“Since J.T.’s accident, the running of the ranch has fallen mainly to Matt, and he’s heavily involved with the Stockraisers’ Association. A little too reckless in his quest to hunt down the rustlers that have been plaguing this area, but he won’t stop until he finds them.”

“I heard other ranches were losing cattle, too.” Frustratingly aware of the man who had broken her heart, she didn’t think she could stand here much longer.

Cora nodded. “The Ross ranch and Riley’s place. Between that and the women, Matt stays plenty busy, but he shows no signs of settling down.”

Lucky for women everywhere, Annalise thought uncharitably.

Cora slid a sideways look at her. “Y’all were sweet on each other once. Any chance—”

“No.” Annalise cut her off firmly, sharply. “None.”

“That’s a shame. I thought something might come of that.”

Something had. Heartache and a baby. Annalise’s throat closed up. And Matt had never responded to her letter about her miscarriage of their child. Not one word.

Her friend continued to talk about newcomers to the town, but Annalise’s nerves were stretched taut. Despite the open front door, the air in the room was stifling, as were the reminders of the past. She couldn’t take it any more.

She had stayed at least ten feet away from him all night and that was as close as she intended to get.

Having already given her congratulations to Russ and his wife, Annalise quietly said good night to Cora and threaded her way through the group gathered behind her at the foot of the oak-and-wrought-iron staircase. She reached the coat stands on the wall along the staircase and found her shawl.

Once outside, she took a deep welcome gulp of cool air. It felt good against her heated skin, bared by the square neckline of her jade-green silk bodice.

She swept the wrap around her shoulders and started off the hotel’s porch, looking down to pull the edges together. She saw a man’s boots at the same time she ran into a rock-hard chest. The momentum caused her to stumble.

Hard masculine hands shot out, cupped her shoulders. “Whoa, there.”

At the deep familiar rumble, the apologetic smile on her face faded. Her gaze jerked up, clashing with a hot blue one. Matt.

Her pulse stopped then resumed, beating so fast that her chest felt too small for her heart. The warmth in his eyes died, replaced with a cold flatness as he practically pushed her away. He dropped his hold so quickly, so forcefully that she had to take a step back to keep her balance.

A woman stood beside him, the same pretty blonde Annalise had seen with him earlier.

The other woman looked from Annalise to Matt. She slid her hand from his arm and nodded at Annalise. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening.” She was surprised to hear the words. Her throat felt as if it were bolted shut and wouldn’t work.

The blonde glanced at Matt. “I’ll wait for you inside.”

“No need,” he said harshly. “I’m coming with you.”

After another look at Annalise, the woman hurried around her. Who was she? She remembered Cora saying that a furious husband had confronted Matt last year and accused him of having an affair with his wife. Cora flat-out hadn’t believed it. But as Annalise stared into the face of the man she had once loved, a face she had once known as well as her own, she wasn’t so sure.

They stood there for a frozen moment, eyes locked. The world narrowed to her and him. The scent of man and sandalwood soap on the crisp winter air. The tiny lines of fatigue fanning out from his blue eyes, in the creases around his mouth.

When his lips tightened, she jerked her attention away from them. The stillness of the night and the muted music made it feel as though they were the only two people in the world. Thank goodness they weren’t.

Annalise hadn’t expected this feeling of suffocation. Of panic. The bone-squeezing pain in her chest.

His gaze slid indolently down her body, hungry and frankly sexual. A look that had been focused on her before. Just the memory made her shiver.

Then his expression changed to one of contempt. His eyes narrowed. He vibrated with anger. The realization had Annalise stiffening.

What did he have to be angry about? He was the one who had turned his back on her.

In the split second it took her to read his face, his eyes shuttered against her.

She was so furious she couldn’t breathe for a second. Before she could say anything, do anything, Matt stepped around her and onto the Fontaine’s porch. Pointedly, blatantly ignoring her. Turning his back on her again.

Enraged, she looked over her shoulder. “Ah, your back. The side of you I recognize so well.”

He went stock-still for a long moment, shoulders rigid, muscles coiled with tension.

She shouldn’t have said it, even though it was the truth. Breath suspended, she waited for his reaction.

He continued inside without a backward glance.

The blonde stood in the wide doorway of the hotel, flashing him a quick smile. “Who was that?”

“Nobody.” His voice was flat, brittle.

Pain slashed at Annalise. Angry tears stinging her eyes, she walked briskly toward her house at the opposite end of town.

Had she believed they could put the past behind them, even be civil? She knew better now. She made a sound low in her throat and walked faster. Just seeing him, being that close to him had caused her stomach to flutter. And her palms were sweating!

Even knowing she would eventually have to see Matt, she had left Philadelphia, come home to Whirlwind and reopened her father’s medical practice. But the sheer depth and agony of coming face to face with him had been more than she anticipated. Still, she had done it, gotten it over with.

There would be other times—they both lived here, after all—but she wouldn’t get that close to him ever again.

Annalise Fine had some damn nerve. Returning to Whirlwind. Showing her face at his brother’s party. Black fury drove through Matt. He wanted to hit something. Or someone.

Once inside the Fontaine, he left Willow in the dining room with Ef Gerard, the blacksmith, and his new wife, Naomi, then slipped out the hotel’s back door. His gaze settled blankly on the hotel’s laundry house some yards away.

Seething, he clenched his fists, unclenched them. He was burning to get his gun and shoot at something. He didn’t care what. Maybe the cool temperature would soothe his temper. His body was throbbing, nerves stretched taut, sensation skimming the surface of his skin in a way it hadn’t in seven years. He could still feel her slender shoulders beneath his touch, the tease of her breath against his neck when she had run into him.

Her heart-shaped face was even more beautiful, the shock in her light-green eyes every bit as strong as the shock he had felt upon seeing her. She was still slim and delicate, but now her curves were more defined, womanly. Where they had once been more angular, her hips now flared slightly from her taut waist and her breasts were fuller. He’d felt that for himself when she had run into him. And her skin still looked as soft as down.

Immediately, he had wanted to put his hands on her, his mouth, which blistered him up good. He killed that thought real quick.

“Matt?”

He stiffened at the sound of his brother’s voice. The last thing he wanted was to spoil Russ’s wedding day.

“What’s wrong? Is it Annalise?”

He gave a sharp nod. With little effort, Matt had stayed away from her all night, then his past had walked right smack into him. There was no point in denying why he was so angry, especially to his brother.

Dragging a hand down his face, he turned, battling to force the sound of her smoke-and-honey voice out of his head. “It happened outside. How did you know about it?”

“You were lathered up when you and Willow came back into the hotel.” His brother, a year older, watched him steadily. “I knew it had to be because of her.”

Matt wanted to rip into his brother and ask why she had been invited, but the whole town had been. It wasn’t Russ’s fault Annalise had shown up. Wasn’t his fault the woman still affected Matt so strongly. Drawing in her light clean scent of primroses had tied his gut in nine kinds of knots. How could she still smell the same? Why did he have to remember it so well?

“I figured she might come,” Russ said quietly.

Matt had tried not to give it any thought.

“Did you talk to her?”

“Oh, she did all the talking,” he bit out. He felt as though he could explode any second. “Don’t you have a bride waiting?”

“What did she say?”

“Leave off.” Matt shoved a hand through his hair. “There’s no reason to ruin your night. You’ve got a good woman. You should be in there enjoying her.”

“Tell me.” Moonlight slanted across Russ’s face as he braced one shoulder against the hotel wall.

Matt knew that patient stance, the expectant tone. His brother wouldn’t leave until he knew. “She made some smart-mouthed comment when I started walking away. Something about how she recognized my back since I was so good at turning away from her.”

His brother cursed.

Matt gave a harsh laugh. “You and I both know who turned their back on whom. The minute her pa died, she planned to leave even though she—” He broke off as he wrestled with another savage urge to hit something. To ride the hell out of Whirlwind.

“Even though she had agreed to marry you,” his brother finished quietly. “What else did she say?”

“That’s it.” Which was one reason Matt couldn’t figure out why seeing her had hit him so hard. Had torn into the deep hole inside him he thought had healed. They had been inches apart for less than one minute. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t let himself. “It was no secret she had always wanted to be a doctor. I didn’t like her decision to go back east by herself, but I understood. Not the other though.”

“The miscarriage.”

His eyes stung. “If she hadn’t been so damn deter-mined to go to medical school right then, our baby would be alive.”

Even now, after all these years, Matt’s throat closed up when he thought about his child.

“She swore she didn’t know about the baby until after she arrived in Philadelphia,” Russ reminded. “That she lost the baby before she could write to tell you she was expecting.”

Matt had burned her letter, but it didn’t matter. The words she’d written weeks after leaving him were carved into his brain forever. “How could she not be aware that there was a life growing inside her? Her pa was a doctor and she helped him with patients often. She had to have known she was expecting.”

“Why would she lie?”

“She wanted what she wanted. She didn’t need anything here.” Even him, Matt thought.

“She’d been caring for Hardy for over a year.”

“And we helped her.” Them and Pa. That was when Matt had fallen in love with her. “So?”

“She left so soon after he died. Maybe she was grieving so hard she couldn’t think clear. Remember how I was after Amy ran off with that married man she’d been seeing while engaged to me?”

When he had lost his first fiancée, Russ had been negligent, withdrawn and as cantankerous as a bear with a thorn in his paw. Maybe Annalise had been a couple of those things, too. And if she had stayed in Whirlwind, Matt thought angrily, he could have helped her through it.

His brother shifted, disrupting the shadows. “Maybe she made a mistake by leaving then.”

“A mistake to go when she did, maybe, but claiming not to know about the baby? That was no mistake. That was a flat-out lie.”

It had been some years since he and Russ had talked about this in detail and his brother’s calm suggestion still angered him. And solved nothing. She was back, but for how long?

At the thought, hope rose. She had left once; it was entirely possible she might leave again. He jerked a thumb toward the hotel door. “Get back in there. I don’t want Lydia taking a strip off my hide because she can’t find you. You’re the groom, remember?”

There was an innate contentment about his brother these days, a sense of calm. Despite the somber expression on his face just now, Russ was happy. Settled. Matt had once thought he wanted that with Annalise. But he didn’t. Not with her, not with any woman.

Seeing his first love had left him feeling raw, cornered.

“You’ll be in for the toast?”

Matt nodded. “Get me a glass of champagne, okay?”

“If you’d rather, I can ask Pa to give it.”

“I’ll do it.” Annalise Fine wasn’t going to ruin this night more than she already had. Matt had moved on—many times—from her. He could do it again.

As his brother opened the door, he said, “I’ll be clear-headed when I make the toast, Russ. I won’t let you down.”

The other man squeezed his shoulder. “I know that.”

Matt stayed outside a few more minutes, trying to calm the fury pulsing through him.

After finally catching the band of rustlers who had been stealing cattle from the Triple B and surrounding ranches in several counties, he had anticipated things going back to normal, looked forward to a rest. The Landis brothers, all seven of them, were awaiting trial in Abilene’s jail because Taylor County was where they had done the majority of their rustling. Callahan and Nolan counties planned to extradite the gang to their respective counties once the Taylor County trial ended.

The capture of the seven bastards had been a long time coming and the result of more than just Matt’s efforts. He had every right to feel victorious. And Annalise had leeched it right out of him.

He had a Stockraisers’ Association meeting to attend in two days. Exhausted after months of spending intense effort on the rustlers, he didn’t look forward to the trip, but he was glad to have it. Come tomorrow morning, he would be on his way to Graham and away from Dr. Annalise Fine. And when he returned to Whirlwind, he intended to stay away.

In the days after seeing Matt, Annalise stayed busy. She treated a case of pneumonia, several sore throats, an earache and accepted an invitation out to Riley Holt’s for supper. She had known him and his brother, Davis Lee, her entire life and welcomed the chance to meet their wives, Susannah and Josie.

She had also examined J. T. Baldwin’s injured leg. She wanted to examine him more thoroughly before saying she agreed with the doctor from Fort Greer that he would walk again. At the end of their visit, Matt’s pa had mentioned—twice—that her former beau had been gone all week to Graham for a Stockraisers’ Association meeting.

She had murmured some unintelligible comment. She didn’t want to know where he was or what he was doing. She didn’t want to think about him at all.

Five nights after Russ and Lydia’s wedding celebration, she responded to a frantic plea from Davis Lee Holt, Whirlwind’s sheriff, to examine his pregnant wife, who had begun to bleed.

It was well after dark when Annalise stood at the foot of Davis Lee’s and Josie’s bed, asking questions. It was difficult enough to see her lifelong friend terrified, but the fear of miscarrying their baby on both his and his wife’s faces wrapped around Annalise like a coil of barbed wire.

For a heartbeat, the pain of her own miscarriage was so sharp she couldn’t breathe. She forced away the memories, struggling to keep all her focus on her patient.

Seven months along, Josie lay in the big bed. The lamp on a table beside her was turned as high as it would go and the soft amber light showed she was as pale as chalk. Annalise could see the sheen of sweat on both their faces.

“This has happened before,” Davis Lee offered hoarsely.

Annalise frowned. “Miscarriage?”

“Two.” The bleakness in his eyes cut her to the bone.

Two? Her heart twisted. Going through one had nearly destroyed her will to live. “You said the bleeding just started?”

“Yes.” Josie pushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. “I realized it was happening about ten minutes ago and sent Davis Lee for you.”

“That’s good.” Annalise was glad she lived only a hundred yards from the couple. She started to lift the sheets at Josie’s feet, expecting the lawman to step out of the room as other men did. When he didn’t, she glanced up.

Josie took her husband’s hand. “Is it all right if he stays?”

Annalise was surprised. In her experience, men didn’t want to be anywhere around female issues. “If that’s what you want.”

As Davis Lee eased down on the edge of the bed, Annalise raised the linens, noting the crimson stain was in only one spot.

Davis Lee spoke softly to his wife. “Just keep your eyes on me, honey. It’s going to be okay.”

Josie gave him a small smile.

The man’s tenderness put a lump in Annalise’s throat.

The blood didn’t appear to be spreading and there were no clots. That was promising.

She lowered the sheet to cover Josie’s feet. “The bleeding isn’t heavy. That’s a good sign. Have you had any cramping?”

“Only at the beginning tonight.”

“Do you have any pain now?”

“Some, but it isn’t sharp. It’s the baby, isn’t it?” Josie asked fearfully.

“Yes,” Annalise said gently.

Tears welled in the woman’s green eyes. Davis Lee stroked his wife’s hair, his eyes closing briefly as agony streaked across his handsome features.

Annalise’s chest ached. “You’ve done everything right so far—stayed in bed, sent Davis Lee for me.”

“So now what?” he asked quietly.

“More of the same. Josie, I’m afraid you’ll be confined to bed for the duration of the pregnancy.” The other woman’s history made the outlook even more grim, but Annalise had no intention of saying so. “You must take extra care. Especially considering your two previous losses. You have less than two months to go. Right now, complete bed rest is your best chance of keeping this baby.”

“But—”

Davis Lee squeezed his wife’s hand. “You heard the doc, Josie. You aren’t going to lift so much as a needle.”

She started to argue, but quieted when her husband gave her a look. “Yes, all right.”

Annalise bit back a smile. “Davis Lee, if you’ll pick her up, I’ll change the sheets.”

“Oh, no!” Josie protested. “You don’t need to clean up!”

Annalise smiled. “Putting down clean sheets will allow me to judge better tomorrow if the bleeding has slowed.”

He scooped up his wife. In short order, Annalise had the bed stripped and a clean sheet on the moss-stuffed mattress.

Once her patient was settled, she took her leave. Davis Lee walked out with her.

“You don’t need to see me home,” she said when they paused on his porch. “Not since I live so close to you.”

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder then pulling the door shut quietly. He shoved a hand through his dark hair and she could see his hand was shaking. “This can’t be any better for her than it is for the baby. Is she gonna be okay, Annalise? Even if she loses the baby?”

Annalise didn’t need the wash of moonlight over his rugged features to see the man was terrified of losing his wife.

“I told her—” He broke off hoarsely. “It was too soon to try after the last one.”

Annalise’s throat tightened painfully. She laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she is fine and I know you are, too. You’re taking good care of her, Davis Lee.”

He searched her face then a resolve came over him. “She won’t be getting out of that bed. You can count on it.”

She smiled. “Any more questions?”

“Not right now.”

“If she has further pain or thinks she’s bleeding more profusely, send for me right away.”

“All right.”

“Count on seeing me tomorrow.”

He hugged her. “Thanks again. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” She stepped off his porch, angling toward her house. Josie was lucky to have a husband like Davis Lee. To have anyone. Except for a midwife she had only just met, Annalise had been alone when she’d suffered her miscarriage seven years ago.

Once inside her house, she removed her blood-streaked apron, unable to dodge the memories any longer. She had known she would have to relive them at some point and they flew at her like arrows. If her loss hadn’t been raked up by a possible miscarriage, it would’ve been triggered by a troubled pregnancy or stillbirth.

Moving as though in a daze, she washed her hands, then the dishes she’d left in a hurry when Davis Lee had fetched her.

With tears blurring her vision, she changed into her night clothes, brushed out her hair and plaited it then lay down. The images wouldn’t stop. Neither would the guilt. Memories of the pain, the blood, the resulting infection. She’d been lucky to survive.

She finally dozed off, waking with a start when someone pounded heavily on her front door.

Afraid it was Davis Lee again, she sprang out of bed. She grabbed her cotton wrapper from the back of her vanity chair and pulled it on, tying it snugly as she rushed down the stairs. She snatched up her medical bag then opened the door. And froze. “Russ?”

The big man’s back was to her and he was carrying someone. He looked over his shoulder, features taut. Urgent. “He needs help.”

Ef Gerard, Whirlwind’s blacksmith, stood in the darker shadows holding the man’s feet.

She flung the door wide. “Bring him in. Follow me.”

Hurrying, she led them to the back room and the patient cot in the near corner. After placing her bag on the floor, she lit an oil lamp while Russ and Ef carefully laid the man face-down on the mattress then stepped away.

“His back’s the worst of it,” Russ said.

Holding the light high, she walked over to the patient. She searched for injuries, her gaze skimming over sock feet and powerful thighs in denims filmed with red dust. Blood caked the back of his white shirt. It had splattered on the sleeves, too. His face was also bloody. Swollen and—

Her heart stopped. It was Matt!

Chapter Two

Annalise froze for a second. Matt. He needed help. Though stunned, she remembered her training and managed to gather her wits. Pushing the lamp into his brother’s hand, she bent down to feel for her patient’s carotid pulse. It was strong.

A closer look in the wavering light showed his ripped and bloodied shirt was stuck to his back. Rising, she pushed aside the curtain separating the clinic’s two beds and went to the glass-fronted cabinet for a pair of scissors.

“What happened?” she asked Russ. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know. Matt hasn’t been conscious for us to ask.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I hope he can tell us when he wakes up. Why won’t he wake up?”

“Maybe because he’s lost a lot of blood.” Annalise eased down onto the edge of the bed, snipping the hem of the shirt then ripping it up the middle. “Or maybe he was knocked out.”

Russ shifted behind her, throwing shadows against the wall. “How bad is it?”

“The wounds need to be cleaned before I can tell.” She carefully peeled back Matt’s shirt and swallowed hard at the sight of his torn, mangled flesh.

Russ and Ef both made a sound of shock. Annalise folded the fabric out of her way, revealing the strong broad lines of his back, the fluid muscles of his shoulders and upper arms. His smooth bronze skin was now ripped and gaping. The wounds didn’t extend past his lean waist, the worst of them on and between his shoulder blades. Who had done this?

Emotion surged inside her, a mix of compassion and regret. She realized her hands were shaking.

Steeling herself, she managed to control the tremor in her voice. “Where did you find him?”

“A couple of miles east of Whirlwind.” Russ handed the lamp to Ef and moved to the foot of the cot. “His mare was nearby.”

She returned to the cabinet which also held bandages, powders, instruments, various salves and antiseptic treatments, including carbolic acid. “Can one of you fetch me a bowl of water?”

While the blacksmith did that, Annalise took the carbolic acid and a couple of clean squares of linen from the cabinet. The rush of footsteps had her looking over her shoulder.

Lydia Baldwin hurried through the door. “Russ?”

“Sugar.” He pulled his beautiful raven-haired wife into his side as her gaze went to the man on the cot.

“Oh no,” she breathed. “How is he?”

“He’s alive.” In the smoky amber light, Russ looked pale, bleak. “Don’t know much else yet.”

The brunette placed a soothing hand on his chest. “I saw you and Ef ride in so I came on over.”

He brushed a kiss across her hair.

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, Annalise moved back across the room. “What made you go look for him?” she asked Russ.

“He was late getting home from his trip to Graham. He made half the trip yesterday and stayed the night in Albany. He said he’d be back in Whirlwind by supper tonight. When he wasn’t, and when there was no telegram saying he’d be delayed, I knew something had happened to him.”

Ef returned with a basin of cool water and, at her direction, placed it on the small table beside the bed.

Russ said tightly, “I’m afraid I know who did it, too.”

Annalise recalled part of the conversation she’d had with Cora the night of Russ’s wedding celebration. “An angry husband?”

She felt Ef’s gaze slice to her.

Russ glared at her. “An angry husband? Hell, no. You shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

His wife said quietly, “She’s not accusing him, Russ.”

“I don’t care.”

Annalise wasn’t convinced, but it wasn’t her business who had hurt him; it was her business to treat him. Patch him up and send him on his way. “Who do you think would’ve done something like this?”

“The rustlers he’s been chasing for months, the Landis brothers. About two months ago, he caught up to them and they beat him up.”

“We think they decided to try again,” the blacksmith put in.

“And kill him this time.”

Annalise had overheard some talk during her supper at the Pearl. “I thought they were in jail in Abilene.”

“Five of them are,” Russ said flatly. “Two escaped. Davis Lee told me late this afternoon.”

She wet the cloth with carbolic acid and began gently cleaning the caked blood from Matt’s back. For a long moment, there was only the sound of the combined breathing of those in the room, the occasional push of the wind outside. The scents of dried blood and dirt hid the clean, masculine smell she remembered from the other night. Tension pulsed in the quietness.

Russ stood to her left, looking down at his brother. “They stole his boots. That’s gonna make him madder than hell.”

After a few moments, Annalise was able to discern the actual wounds and she winced. His back was flayed by what at first looked like shallow cuts. She leaned closer, motioning for Ef to bring the lamp lower.

The lacerations were ragged, uneven, as though someone had dragged a jagged blade down his back. Bile rose in her throat.

Behind her, Russ cursed. “It looks like he’s been whipped.”

“No,” the blacksmith said quietly. “I’ve been whipped and the marks are different than that.”

“Well, what is it then?” Russ asked in frustration—the same frustration Annalise felt as she scrutinized Matt’s back.

“The wounds are shallow, most of them no more than an eighth of an inch. A few, like these in the middle of his back, are almost a quarter-inch deep. And they’re all long, three and four inches.”

“Like someone bore down on the weapon as they slashed him?” Ef asked.

“Yes, exactly.

“Do you think a knife did this?” Russ asked with quiet anger.

“The gashes aren’t clean like they would be from a knife blade. The edges of the wounds are ragged.”

“Then what the hell did that to him?”

“I don’t know yet.” After further examination, she straightened.

“Can you tell how bad it is?”

“The bleeding seems to have stopped and that’s good, but I don’t know how much blood he lost before you got him here.” She felt her way up his strong denim-covered calves, the backs of his powerful legs and then his sides. “I don’t feel more injuries.”

“So, we can take him to the hotel now?”

Her gaze caught his. “No. He shouldn’t be moved. Not now anyway.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do?”

“What do you mean? He can stay here, just like any other patient.”

“He’ll kill me if I leave him here.”

Russ’s wife started, pinching his arm.

Even though Annalise knew the man’s words were said out of worry for his brother, she couldn’t keep the sharpness from her voice. “Well, we certainly can’t do something he might not like. You go ahead and move him. When he starts bleeding again, send for me. Or don’t.”

Russ frowned.

Lydia tugged her husband’s head down to hers and said in a half whisper, “For goodness’ sake, Russ, she isn’t going to hurt him. Especially since he was the father of her baby.”

Anger shot through her. How many people knew about that? She had foolishly believed—hoped—that his brother would be the only one privy to the information.

Matt stirred, his big hand clamping hard onto her knee. His heat reached through her skirts and skimmed along her nerve endings.

“Matt?” Russ stepped forward.

Blue eyes opened, clouded with pain as they focused on Annalise. “Angel?” he whispered.

At the endearment, an unexpected knot of longing tangled in her chest, but it was quickly gone. His calling her that surely meant he was out of his head with pain.

His brother leaned over the bed. “Matt?”

Matt’s eyes closed and his hand slid from Annalise’s leg.

Reading the look of concern on the other man’s face, she said, “It may take him a while to come to.”

Russ nodded. “I want to stay with him tonight so I can be here when he wakes up.”

“All right.”

After Ef was convinced he’d done all he could for now, he handed the lamp over to Russ and said good-night. Russ assured the blacksmith he would send for him if anything changed and told Lydia the same when she offered to stay with him.

When he returned from walking his wife out, Annalise had retrieved a crock of honey from her cabinet and was carefully applying it to Matt’s back.

“Why are you putting honey on him?” Russ asked sharply.

“It will form a barrier to keep the dirt from getting into his body. It may also help dull his pain.”

“I’ve heard of that, but I didn’t know if it really worked.”

“I’ve had good results in the past.”

Russ nodded, a brief glint of respect in his eyes.

She pointed to the second cot. “Feel free to sleep there if you want.”

“Thanks, I might do that later.” He pulled over a chair from beside the door and sat down at the foot of the bed.

She worked in silence for a few moments. As she finished treating the wounds, Russ spoke, “Sorry about what I said earlier.”

“It’s all right.” She gave him a small smile. What had hurt more than that was what Matt had said. Angel.

Her throat closed up. Feeling suffocated, she rose and walked to the sink across the room to wash her hands.

Between this and Josie’s threat of miscarriage, Annalise felt trapped. The best thing for her would be to send Matt to the hotel with his brother, get him out of her clinic. That was what she wanted. But seeing the extent of his injuries had changed her mind about getting him out of here. He could start bleeding again and he might get a fever.

She stared at the medical certificate hanging above the supply cabinet. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable she found this situation, Annalise knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t turn her back on him the way he had on her.

Feeling as though he’d been beaten with a fence post, Matt forced his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the window a few feet to his left. He sorted through his fuzzy brain, trying to get his bearings. Buttery-yellow light slanted in a wide band across a clean pine floor. He was on his belly in a narrow bed that smelled of fresh air and lye soap. And something sugary-sweet.

He wore trousers, socks, but no shirt. His bare back burned like fire as his gaze tracked what he could see of the room. Another cot, also narrow, sat several feet away behind a half-drawn curtain. Between the two beds was a small table holding a lamp and a pint-sized brown crock. A glass-fronted cabinet filled with things he couldn’t identify from this angle was against the far wall.

A vague memory of a woman’s voice and gentle touch floated through his mind. He had thought it was Annalise. Real or a dream? He remembered the Stockraisers’ Association meeting in Graham, recalled stopping overnight in Albany on his way home, then being close to Whirlwind when he’d been ambushed.

He tried to turn on his side and agony seared his back. Hissing out a breath, he went still.

“Matt?” Russ moved next to the bed, going to his haunches so Matt could see him.

The rattle of a wheelchair affirmed that Pa was there, too. The older man rolled to Russ’s side. “Son?”

Matt’s mouth was dry, his head throbbing. “Where am I?”

“In Whirlwind,” his brother answered. “At Annalise’s clinic.”

Annalise? Hell. So, he hadn’t dreamed her. She really was here. “Why didn’t you take me to Catherine’s?” he rasped.

“Annalise was closer.”

A hell of a lot closer than he wanted her, that was for sure. He was surprised she hadn’t turned him away. “What time is it?”

“Late afternoon,” Russ answered. “You’ve been out since we brought you here about two this morning.”

His back felt raw, torn. “What happened to me?”

“We’re hoping you can tell us.” J.T. angled his chair out of the way so Russ could help Matt sit up.

He bit off a curse at the pain arrowing through him. Sweat broke across his forehead as he braced his hands on his knees and panted with the effort to breathe through the misery. “Thanks.”

His brother sat beside him in case he needed support, for which Matt was grateful.

“Ah, you’re awake,” said a smoky feminine voice. Her voice.

As Annalise walked into the room, his muscles tightened, sending a lash of agony through him. He looked up, taking in her practical gray daydress and the thick mahogany braid hanging down her back.

Her skirts made a soft swishing noise against the wood floor. “I brought you some water and something to eat.”

“No whiskey?”

“Water’s better for you right now.”

Maybe so, but it wouldn’t take the edge off.

She eased around J.T. and his wheelchair then set a real glass and a china plate on the small bedside table. After she removed the lamp and the crock, Russ moved the table within easy reach for Matt.

He hoped he could manage to eat under his own steam because he didn’t plan on staying here.

Annalise stepped to the head of the bed. “I sent Andrew Donnelly for Davis Lee.”

Evidently, Annalise had renewed her acquaintance with Catherine Blue’s kid brother in the two months she’d been here.

Russ glanced at Matt. “Are you up for some questions?”

“Yeah.” He took another bite of the bread and ham Annalise had brought, realizing how hungry he was. And how weak. “I was ambushed.”

“By Reuben and Pat Landis?” his brother asked.

“I don’t know. Couldn’t see their faces.” Mindful of the pain in his back, he carefully lifted his glass for a drink. “Why’d you ask about those two?”

“Davis Lee got word yesterday that they had escaped from the jail in Abilene.”

As Matt talked with his brother and father, Annalise moved behind him into the space between the bed and the wall. When she touched his shoulder, he flinched.

“Sorry. I want to make sure your back isn’t bleeding again.” Her voice was cool, detached. And close. Too close.

Matt tried not to tense up because it hurt like the devil when he did, but he couldn’t help it. Trying to focus, he fixed his attention on his brother and father. “Who found me?”

“Russ and Ef.” J.T. situated his chair a few feet away. “You were a couple of miles from here. Tony Santos sent his boy, Miguel, out to the Triple B before dawn this morning and I came on to town. Russ spent last night here with you.”

Matt nodded, going still when Annalise slid a hand into the back of his hair and probed gently. Her breast grazed his shoulder.

Before he could ask what the hell she was doing, she said, “You have a knot on your head here. Do you know what you were hit with?”

“No.” He cleared his throat, sensation stirring in his belly. If he weren’t in pain, he knew he’d be feeling that same slow curl of heat below his belt.

Her hand moved from his head. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No,” he ground out. Did she have to touch him so much? Or stand so close? He wanted her to step away.

J.T.’s sharp blue gaze went from her to Matt and he smiled. “Annalise has been taking real good care of you.”

Matt took a drink of water so he wouldn’t have to respond. The clinic’s front door opened and Sheriff Davis Lee Holt strode in with young Andrew Donnelly, their boots thudding against the pine floor.

Finished eating, Matt greeted the dark-haired lawman, a longtime friend, and the stocky teen who lived with his sister and her husband past the edge of town.

After asking if Matt was going to be all right, Davis Lee turned his attention to the ambush. “Did you happen to see who jumped you?”

“No.”

A dark look crossed the sheriff’s face. “I was hoping you had.”

“Russ told me Reuben and Pat Landis escaped jail yesterday.” Matt’s back throbbed like blue blazes, the discomfort made more intense by the occasional soft stroke of Annalise’s fingers on his skin.

“They still owe you for shooting off Reuben’s earlobe, I reckon.”

“Probably, though they’ve got more than that coming to them.” The brothers and their five siblings had been thieving from here to the Panhandle for months. “How much longer are we gonna have to chase those SOBs? I thought we’d finally stopped them.”

The lawman shook his head, looking as grim as Matt felt. “Tell me what happened.”

“Someone came straight at me on his horse, knocked us both out of our saddles.” He paused, feeling light-headed. “I punched him and another person hit me from behind with something. That’s all I remember.”

“So you don’t know what they did to your back?” Annalise asked in a quiet distant voice.

Matt wished he could forget she was so close, but he couldn’t. Her clean, light scent had stolen into his lungs and settled there. “No, I don’t know what they did.”

Davis Lee walked behind the cot to see Matt’s back, and cursed. “What could’ve ripped you up so badly?”

“What does it look like?” Matt asked.

Russ shook his head, still propping his brother up. “Annalise, Ef and I tried to figure it out when I brought you in, but we couldn’t.”

“Is my back torn to shreds? That’s what it feels like.”

Davis Lee leaned closer. “These almost look like stab wounds, but they’re not very deep. If they used a knife, why didn’t they just stab you to death?”

“When we catch them, I’ll be sure and ask,” Matt said dryly, fighting the weakness and pain that was draining the energy from him. “Somebody tell me what it looks like back there.”

“There are long lacerations,” Annalise responded. “Uneven, like someone plowed furrows down your back.”

She explained about the shallowness and pattern of the wounds. They didn’t compare with the blade of any knife she’d ever seen.

“And you have no idea what they could’ve used, Matt?” Davis Lee moved around to the front of the bed.

“Everything’s a blank after I got hit on the head.”

Except for those shadowy images of Annalise. Her touch fluttered like a butterfly against his mangled flesh. He felt the occasional wash of her breath against his neck and back, and it put him on edge.

As Davis Lee, Russ and J.T. discussed going after the men who had attacked him, Matt realized he could be stuck here with her, completely at her mercy. Like hell.

“The men who jumped Matt could’ve gone in any direction afterwards,” J.T. said.

“If it was the Landis brothers, maybe to Abilene?” Russ suggested. “To try and free the others?”

Davis Lee shook his head. “The guard over there has been tripled. They won’t get within a hundred feet of the jail now.”

Annalise came around to feel Matt’s forehead, her hand cool and soft against his skin. “Good. No fever.”

Says you. She still spoke in that detached emotionless voice and it bugged the hell out of him because he knew how she could burn beneath that prim exterior. How she could make him burn.

He cut off the thought. That was the last thing he wanted to remember.

The fatigue etching her fine-boned features didn’t detract from her beauty or dull the peaches-and-cream skin that was so fine-grained it was almost translucent.

He’d known he would have to see her again, but why this soon? And why like this, when he was injured and hurting?

She again moved behind him, the warmth of her body flirting with his. Every muscle from his calves to his shoulders drew tight. Being this close to her put a knot in his chest. He had to get away from her.

“Are you dizzy?” she asked.

“A little.” Growing weaker, his frustration mounted. “Headache?”

“Yes, and my back hurts like hellfire.” So why could he even feel how close she was? Why was he even this aware of her? He sure as hell didn’t want to be.

“Russ, Jericho and I can fan out from Whirlwind, each of us in a different direction, and see if we can find any tracks leading from the spot where Matt was found,” Davis Lee was saying to J.T. and Russ. “I doubt I’ll have trouble getting another volunteer to ride with us. Jake or Bram Ross would gladly help.”

Matt was sure the Ross brothers would agree, but he wanted to go. He didn’t care that he was as weak as a newborn kitten. “I can do it.”

“It’s not a good idea,” Annalise said firmly.

Her touch was feather-light on his back, yet he felt it like a red-hot brand. Frustration and resentment had him snapping, “Leave me be!”

Conversation abruptly stopped and the three men in front of him stared warily at Annalise.

Matt thought about apologizing until she leaned in and whispered, “I can’t. I’m the doctor, you’re the patient. I need to check all your wounds.”

The brush of her lips against his ear sent a shaft of heat through him and his muscles twitched in reaction, sending a wave of pain over him. Hell!

He looked at his brother. “Bring me a shirt and my horse. And my boots.”

Russ grimaced. “Uh, well, they stole your boots.”

A red haze of anger misted his vision. If there had been one ounce of energy in his body, he would have punched the wall. As it was, he could barely sit up.

J.T. frowned. “Son, Annalise is right. You’re in no shape to ride out right now.”

Davis Lee and Russ nodded in agreement.

Matt didn’t want to admit it, but he was about to give out just sitting here. He would be worse than useless on a horse. It didn’t help that Annalise was torturing him under the guise of doctoring him.

Andrew spoke up. “I could check that spot by the creek bed where the McDougal gang used to rendezvous. They might not be the only outlaws to use it and someone might’ve been there recently.”

That outlaw gang had been wiped out a couple of years earlier. Thanks to Jericho, Jake, Davis Lee and Riley, the men who had murdered Cora Wilkes’s husband as well as Josie Holt’s parents and former fiancé were gone for good. Matt really wanted to make that happen for the Landis brothers and anyone else involved in the rustling.

Davis Lee squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “That’s a good idea, Andrew. Take my deputy with you. He’s at the jail.”

Andrew nodded, his young face earnest as he looked at the lone woman in their midst. “I won’t go until we finish for the day, Dr. Annalise.”

“You can go on, Andrew. It’s important.” There was a smile in her voice.

The answering smile on the boy’s face was blinding and pure adoration. He looked to be this close to falling at her feet.

Hell, Matt thought. Andrew should watch out or she’d kick him in the teeth while he was down there.

It was an effort, but he said, “The longer we talk, the further they get.”

Russ gave him a flat stare. “You’re not going. We’ve got it handled. You need to heal up ’cuz we both know this is going to start all over now that two of them have escaped.”

Matt knew Russ was right to insist he stay here and it blistered him up, but the only thing keeping him from passing out was sheer will and his pride. He refused to let Annalise see how right she was about his being shaky.

“How about moving me out of here?” he asked his brother in a low voice. “Maybe to the Fontaine?”

“I already talked to Annalise about that and she said it wasn’t a good idea.”

“She doesn’t have the last say.”

“Until you’re stronger, she does,” J.T. said. “I’ll stay here with you.”

She helped Russ situate Matt on his side. Her movements were brisk, impersonal. Still, he felt her touch all the way through his body.

Davis Lee turned for the door. “One of us will let you know what we find, Matt. I’m going to see who can ride with us.” He nodded.

“When Andrew gets back from checking the McDougal’s old rendezvous spot, I’ll wire the sheriff in Abilene and those in the surrounding counties to let them know what’s happened so they can keep an eye out for anyone suspicious and for the Landis brothers, too.”

“That’s good.” Though what little strength he had was slipping away, Matt still chafed at being left here. He called out to his brother as Russ reached the clinic door. “Bring me some boots before you leave Whirlwind.”

Russ agreed and walked out. Annalise went to the door with Davis Lee and Matt caught her conversation with his friend.

“How’s Josie doing?” she asked quietly.

“So far, she’s following your orders.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll be over in a bit to check on her.”

“I appreciate it. Lydia offered to stay with her if Russ and I needed to go after Matt’s attackers so she won’t be alone.”

“That’s good.” She gave the lawman a warm smile as she closed the door behind him. A friendly smile.

A smile Matt hadn’t seen in years.

She moved back into the room and gathered his dishes.

“What’s wrong with Josie?” he asked. “Is it the baby?”

Surprise flashed across her face then she shook her head. “It’s not for me to say.”

“Is she going to be all right?” He hated the thought that pretty, vibrant Josie Holt might lose another child or otherwise be in a bad way. “Can you tell me that?”

She hesitated, then said, “She’s taking every precaution.”

Matt could tell by the stubborn slant to her jaw that he wouldn’t get any more information. While he wanted to know more, he couldn’t deny that he found Annalise’s discretion admirable in this instance, although he sure hadn’t found it admirable when she had kept information from him seven years ago. Dammit.

“You can roll to your stomach when you’re tired of that position,” she said, “but don’t lie on your back.”

He didn’t think he would be able to anyway, not without screaming like a girl. He felt like hell, and she really had helped him. He doubted she had enjoyed it any more than he had.

As she walked out with his dishes, he said grudgingly, “I guess I should thank you for doctoring me.”

“Wait until you see my fee,” she said sweetly and stepped into the front room.

His pa chuckled and Matt clenched his teeth.

As he listened to her footsteps go up the stairs, his frustration returned in full force. So much for staying away from her.

For now, he was stuck here. He fully expected it to be pure-dee hell.

Chapter Three

Being irritated drained the last of Matt’s energy. He drifted in and out of sleep, time moving in a slow murky haze.

When he finally came fully awake, he was on his stomach and lamplight filled the dark room. The spring night was cool, making the interior of the two-story house a comfortable temperature. He vaguely remembered Pa leaving to have supper with Cora Wilkes and promising to bring a meal back for Matt.

“Mr. Matt?” Andrew Donnelly appeared in front of him. “You want some water?”

Matt gingerly rolled to his side and propped himself up on one elbow, sharp pain ripping through him. The dark-haired boy offered him a full glass and hovered as he drank a little more than half of it.

When he returned the glass to Andrew, he became aware of the stillness. “We the only two here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Where was Annalise? He wasn’t asking.

“Dr. Annalise went to check on Miz Josie. She’ll be back directly.”

Matt nodded. If he’d been able, he would’ve taken advantage of her absence and gotten the hell out of there, but he couldn’t even pull off his own hat, much less make it to the door. All he could do was stay in this bed, in this clinic, with this woman.

Knowing he was in no shape to leave didn’t stop the resentment simmering inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was directed more at Annalise or the fact that he couldn’t help search for his attackers.

His back still burned with a razor-edged pain as if he’d been skinned. He sure would like to know what those injuries looked like. Staring at the glass gave him an idea.

“Hey, Andrew, does the doc have a mirror anywhere?”

The boy searched the examination room where Matt lay, then the front room. “I don’t see one. I could go upstairs and look in her rooms,” he said eagerly.

A little too eagerly, Matt thought. “No need for that. How about you run over to the Fontaine and ask Miz Lydia for a couple of mirrors? I want to get a look at my back and I think I can do it using those.”

“Well…” Andrew hesitated.

“If you’re worried the doctor will chew on you for leaving me alone, I’ll take responsibility. Besides, you won’t be gone even five minutes. I promise to stay just like this until you get back.”

“Get back from where?” A whoosh of air accompanied Annalise’s words as she opened the door and stepped inside.

The boy’s blue eyes lit up at the sight of her. “I was going to the Fontaine to ask Miz Lydia for a couple of mirrors.”

“For what?” She straightened her bodice, which was the same deep green as her eyes.

“Mr. Matt wants to look at his back.” Andrew’s smile grew brighter, if that were possible. “Need me to do anything for you while I’m out, ma’am?”

“No, thank you. You don’t need to run after those mirrors either.”

At her authoritative tone, Matt’s voice sharpened. “I want to look at my injuries.”

“I can help you with that.” She glanced at Andrew. “You’d best get on home for supper.”

“Are you sure? I can stay if you need me to.”

“I’m sure.” She smiled. “You did a good job today, just as you do every day.”

The boy flushed with pleasure and Matt huffed out a breath. She had that kid wrapped around her little finger.

“Well, good night then, ma’am,” the boy said. “Mr. Matt.”

“Good night, Andrew.”

Fuming, Matt pushed up on one elbow, biting back a moan at the agony slicing through him. “Why didn’t you let the kid get those mirrors? I want to see what those bastards did to my back.”

“I might have an idea,” she said coolly.

“You’re going to draw me a picture?”

“No.”

When she didn’t explain further, he ground out, “Well, what is it?”

“You know I’ve been putting honey on your wounds?”

“So, that’s what I smelled,” he murmured. “Why did you do that?” He knew why he would’ve put honey on her, and he knew what he would’ve done with it.

“It protects the wounds from dirt and helps with inflammation,” she said briskly. “Back to your wounds, I think I can make an impression of them.”

“An impression?”

“Yes, a likeness.”

“I know what an impression is,” he snapped.

“The idea is similar to tracing a pattern.”

“I’ll allow my head’s fuzzy, so how would that work?”

“In effect, I’ll make a paste to form to the injuries—it won’t penetrate beneath the honey—then cover the wounds with a cloth soaked in a cornstarch solution. Once the mixture sets up, I can peel off the cloth and we’ll see the pattern.”

“What the hell kind of idea is that?” Resentment threaded his words. “That something you learned back east?”

“Yes,” she said stiffly. “I learned it from one of my professors.”

“What kind of medicine is that?”

“It’s not medicine. It’s an experiment he tried, a way to discover things like what kind of weapon might have been used on a victim.”

“It would be easier to just get me a couple of mirrors.”

“Yes, but this impression will be permanent. You’ll be able to keep it. If you do find the weapon, you can compare it to the pattern on the cloth.”

How damn smart was that? Matt was impressed in spite of himself. “And you’re sure it’ll be accurate?”

“If we do it now. If we wait for the wounds to start healing over, the pattern will change.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like this. It sounds crazy.”

“That’s what people said to Professor Quackenbush, but it worked. He was always trying things like this.”

Professor who? “Hmph.”

“It won’t hurt you or hinder your recovery.” He noticed she didn’t say she wouldn’t hurt him.

She shrugged. “You can think about it. Just remember what I said about the wounds healing over and changing the pattern.”

“Do it,” he decided.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then.”

For a few minutes, she bustled around gathering supplies. He watched her through half-slitted eyes, noticing how the golden lamplight made her skin glow like polished pearl. Something hard clutched at his chest.

She glanced at him. “Is your pain any better?”

“If it is, I can’t tell it.”

“I’ll be careful,” she murmured.

She gathered a large piece of cloth, the pint-sized crock he’d seen earlier, some bowls, a pitcher of water and a tin of cornstarch. Walking to him, she placed all the items on the small bedside table.

“First,” she said, “I’ll mix up the paste.”

As she poured a small amount of cornstarch and water into one of the bowls, he found himself staring at her slender, strong hands, remembering when they had been on him for reasons that had nothing to do with medicine or newfangled ideas. A time when he had looked at her with the same ignorant adoration as he’d seen in the Donnelly kid’s eyes.

“Does Andrew work for you every day?”

“Most days after school and sometimes on Saturday if I need him.”

“The boy’s smitten with you and you’re encouraging him.”

“I am not,” she dismissed, mixing a different amount of water and cornstarch in another bowl.

“If you don’t make it real clear that you’re only his friend, he won’t stop.”

Rather than reply, she dipped the cloth into one of the bowls then wrung it out.

“You say jump and he says how high.”

She sighed. “He wants to learn about medicine.”

“Maybe about anatomy.” Matt’s gaze slid over her. “Your anatomy.”

“He’s fourteen, Matt.”

“So was I, at one time. I know what I’m talking about. I remember…things.”

She flushed and he recalled how she had turned that pretty shade of pinky-peach all over the first time he’d gotten her naked. Despite his injury, his body tightened and he pushed the image away.

Being here with her in the shadows, teased by the scent of primroses, made it hard to remember how cold-blooded she had been.

When she moved to stand over him, he eased down to his stomach. She spread more honey on his wounds then picked up one of the bowls. “This is the paste. It may be cold.”

Her touch was gentle, but he still flinched.

As she worked, she said quietly, “Russ said you’d been beaten up a couple of months ago, maybe by these same men.

” He grunted.

“You’ve been chasing them for a while?”

He didn’t know why she cared, but her interest—and her enticing scent—distracted him from the pain.

“Been after them about eight months. With everything fenced now, it’s harder for them to steal the cattle, but they still manage to do it and rebrand them.”

“Is the Triple B the only ranch to suffer?”

“No,” he said in a grainy voice. “The Ross place, Riley’s, too. Also a new ranch started by a Mr. Julius from Chicago. And several places from here up through the Panhandle.”

“Now, I’ll place the cloth over your wounds. It will need a few minutes to set up.”

He nodded. Her questions hadn’t been personal, but that didn’t stop Matt wanting to ask her some that were. Starting with why had she returned? Was she planning to stay? Had she left a man in Philadelphia the way she’d left Matt?

But he kept his mouth shut.

As she cleaned up the supplies, he told himself to close his eyes, but he couldn’t stop looking at her. The dark sweep of her lashes, the velvet of her skin, the lush curve of her breasts. He remembered the sweet taste of her against his tongue.

Hell, he wished he could pass out. He was more aware of everything than he wanted to be—the pain in his back, Annalise, the emptiness he felt just being in the same room with her.

“I think it’s ready.” It took a few minutes for her to slowly peel off the cloth. When she finished, she laid it carefully on top of the glass-fronted cabinet, saying excitedly, “I think it’s going to work.”

“Really?” He had thought the idea was half-baked. “Let me see.”

“Hold your horses. I want it to set up a bit. While it’s doing that, I’ll clean off any remaining paste.”

She gingerly wiped his back. As she spread a little more honey on his wounds, he turned his head away from her.

His thoughts about her were entirely too soft. He didn’t want to feel anything soft for her. He wanted to ignore her, but as she began to bandage him, he knew it would be impossible.

Once his back was covered, she helped him sit up so she could secure the dressing by wrapping strips of cloth around him, under his arms and just above his hips.

The warm puff of her breath against his chest, his belly, had sweat breaking out across his face. His muscles tightened, sending a shaft of pain through him.

“There.” With her gaze averted, she appeared unaffected, but Matt knew better.

Her pulse tripped wildly in the hollow of her throat and though her breathing was controlled, he’d heard it hitch more than once. Right now, though, he was more concerned with not passing out and tumbling off this cot.

She finally looked at him, then frowned when she saw his face. “We overdid it.”

She helped him lie back down. Once she’d made sure he was comfortable, she left the room, returning a few minutes later to pick up the cloth gingerly and hold it up for his inspection. “The cornstarch mixture has set up enough now that you might be able to recognize the pattern.”

Matt concentrated, but couldn’t identify the jagged streaks. “Could you hold it farther away?”

She stepped back a few feet, keeping her hands beneath the cloth to support it. Distance didn’t help.

“I don’t recognize the likeness. Maybe Russ or one of the other men will.”

Disappointment chased across her features.

“It was a good idea.” Matt didn’t know why he was reassuring her.

Pleasure flashed in her eyes then was gone. “I can’t take credit for it.”

“Don’t know why not.” She had possibly given him a bonafide lead, using a technique he had never heard of. “The idea to take the impression of my wounds was your idea, not your teacher’s.”

She shrugged, turning away to return the cloth to its place atop the cabinet.

It didn’t escape him that Annalise had been able to help both with the weapon and with his injuries because she had left Whirlwind. Left him. And he didn’t like it one damn bit.

For the last three days, the walls had been slowly closing in on her. Annalise was painfully conscious of Matt and had been since she had bandaged his wounds after making the impression.

As she walked out of Haskell’s General Store after lunch, she admitted her pulse hadn’t settled down since. Faced with his wide, hair-dusted chest, she wasn’t sure how she had managed to keep a steady hand. His body was more tautly muscled than it had been when they had been betrothed, the plane of his stomach even more well-hewn. Looking at him, touching him, made her mouth go dry.

It was beyond vexing. It scared the daylights out of her. Why couldn’t she view him as just another patient? After what he’d done, how could she feel anything for him?

Sometimes, when she was too close to him, her skin stung with sensation. Andrew’s presence helped dull the awareness as did J.T.’s and Cora’s. But at night, it was just Annalise and Matt in quarters too close for her liking. She was upstairs and he was down, yet it didn’t seem to matter. Nothing could stop the memory of those work-roughened hands moving slowly over her bare skin or the hot press of his mouth on her breasts.

His presence, their history, the low-thrumming tension wore on her. As she had done the last three days, she forced her thoughts to something else. Neither she nor Matt had yet been able to identify the weapon used on him.

After comparing the marks on the impression with those left by pitchforks, rakes and even a circular saw blade, she still had nothing to tell Matt, his family or the sheriff. The weapon in question also didn’t match any blade pattern she’d checked on knives at Haskell’s or in his Montgomery Ward catalogue.

Davis Lee, Russ, Jericho and Bram Ross had returned to Whirlwind frustrated and empty-handed. The men had found nothing to identify Matt’s attackers or to indicate where they had gone. Matt had shown Russ and the others the impression she had made, but none of them could identify the pattern or the weapon either.

She walked past Cal Doyle’s law office then stepped inside her clinic.

And found four women gathered around her patient, who was sitting up. Catherine Blue and two of her sisters-in-law, Deborah and Jordan. And a lone blonde named Willow. Annalise remembered her from the night she and Matt had run into each other outside the Fontaine. The woman worked for Russ and Lydia at the hotel.

Surrounded by females, Matt was saying something that made them laugh. The smile on his face faded when he saw Annalise.

Even so, her heart thudded hard. She eyed him dispassionately. The last thing she wanted was for Matt Baldwin to know how much he still got under her skin. At first glance, he looked fit enough, but she saw strain around his eyes.

“Hi, Annalise.” Catherine, a trained nurse who had quickly become a friend, walked toward her.

“Hi, Doc.” The other three women chorused.

She greeted everyone, smiling at Catherine as the others took turns reading the latest edition of The Prairie Caller to Matt. Whirlwind’s newspaper had the news about Josie being ordered to bed for the duration of her pregnancy. There was also the announcement of the arrival of a man known only as Cosgrove, the manager for the Eight of Hearts Ranch, owned by new resident, Theodore Julius.

Squashing a sudden burst of irritation, Annalise caught sight of a pie on the bedside table next to Matt’s bed. She glanced at Catherine. “Cora’s been here?”

The raven-haired woman nodded. “Also May Haskell as well as Chesterene Eckert and Zoe Keeler.”

No wonder Matt looked tired, she thought crossly. “How’s Evie?”

At the mention of her one-month-old daughter, Catherine glowed. “She’s doing well, for as little sleep as she’s getting.”

“Is she colicky?” Annalise asked with a frown.

“No.” The other woman laughed. “Her father seems to think he has to hold her every minute he’s with her. When Jericho finally puts her to bed, she doesn’t stay asleep long.”

Despite the sharp pang of loss in her chest, Annalise smiled at the image of the former Texas Ranger being so enamored of the infant. She used to wonder what kind of father Matt would’ve been to their son, but it hurt too much to consider.

Hearing his deep chuckle, she shifted her attention back to him just as Catherine asked, “Have you seen good results with the honey you’ve been using on his wounds?”

“Yes, and there’s been no inflammation. Everything’s healing nicely.”

As she and the other woman talked, Annalise’s irritation with Matt grew. She had told him not to tire himself out, yet here he was, sitting up, laughing and flirting. Of course he hadn’t followed her orders. What had she expected?

Though he looked as if his energy was flagging, she knew he would never admit it. He would tire easily until he was fully recovered, but if his wounds still looked as good as they had yesterday, she planned to tell him he was free to leave. He was ready and so was she.

When her conversation with Catherine lulled, Annalise turned to the other women. “Ladies, I need to examine Mr. Baldwin, so maybe you could continue your visit later?”

“Yes, of course,” Deborah Blue said.

Willow shared a look with Matt that spoke clearly of sexual knowledge between them. “I’ll see you after awhile.”

Annalise knew from the blonde herself that she was a former prostitute. It appeared Matt knew the same from firsthand experience.

A few minutes later, Annalise was alone with him. “I guess you ignored my suggestion that you rest.”

“You didn’t suggest.” No charming smile for her. “You ordered.”

She didn’t respond, instead gathering fresh bandages and the crock of honey from the glass-fronted cabinet then moving behind his cot.

As she examined his dressing, he said, “Is this really why you ran them off?”

“I didn’t run them off. You look half-spent and I need to change your dressing. Why else would I ask them to leave?”

The smug knowing look he threw over his shoulder had her bristling. Before she thought better of it, she snapped, “Yes, I wanted you all to myself. Haven’t had nearly enough of that.”

“Ouch!” He flinched as she pulled at his dressing a little too hard.

“Do you want some help lying down?”

“If you’re changing my bandages, I’d like to sit up.”

“All right.”

As she peeled off the old strips of cloth, she wrestled with her aggravation. She wasn’t vexed because she was jealous, which was what Matt thought, the arrogant cuss. She just didn’t like him disregarding her medical advice.

During the last few days, it had been obvious he had moved on from their past. She wasn’t letting on that his actions from seven years ago still hurt her. She wanted to avoid any reference to their history. So her only conversations with him thus far had consisted of advice, treatment and asking what he might want for his meals.

After applying a fresh layer of honey, she bandaged him as quickly as possible, not wanting to feel any of those flutters she had felt the other day. A sigh eased out of her and she stepped back. “All done.”

“Good. When can I get out of here?”

It was impossible not to take that personally. “Today.”

“Did Russ or Pa bring me any clothes?”

“Yes.” She went to the other bed, fetching a gray shirt and a pair of old boots his brother had brought from the Triple B.

Matt declined her offer to help him dress, for which Annalise was glad. Gathering up the soiled linens she would later boil, she stepped around his cot and into the front room to deposit them in a burlap bag.

“Why did you come back to Whirlwind, Annalise?”

She froze at the question as much as the bleakness in the words. Turning, she looked into his blue eyes, hard with scrutiny. She had to speak around the catch in her throat. “Because this is my home.”

“You sure didn’t mind leaving it seven years ago.”

He now wore the shirt and she couldn’t stop her gaze from going to the tuft of dark hair visible in the unbuttoned placket of the garment.

“My plan all along was to come back and you know it,” she said.

“Did you leave a man back there, like you did here?”

She stiffened. The hurt slicing through her quickly turned to anger, but she didn’t let him bait her. “You can have your bandages changed by whomever you prefer. No need to come back here unless there’s a problem.”

“All you ever cared about was medical school.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Well, it damn sure wasn’t me. Or what we had.”

“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” Annalise wasn’t reminding him that the other thing she’d cared about was their life together. She curled her hands into fists. “Because I didn’t change my plans after you proposed.”

“No.” He didn’t hesitate, but she didn’t believe him.

“You knew I intended to come straight back to you—back here after medical school, but after you proposed, with my father already gone, you thought I would stay in Whirlwind and give up my dream of becoming a doctor.”

“I never said anything like that.”

“You didn’t have to say it. You made it abundantly clear once I was out of sight. You acted as though I didn’t exist.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he slowly got to his feet. “I cared for you,” he ground out. “And our baby.”

“Our baby!” She shook with outrage, disbelief. “You didn’t care enough even to acknowledge my letter about the miscarriage.”

“You’re a fine one to point the finger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked hotly.

“If you’d cared about me or what we had, you wouldn’t have lied about the baby.”

“Lied? About what?” Incensed, she marched over to him. “You think I wasn’t expecting?”

“No, I believe you were.”

“Then what?” Her heart pounded hard in her chest.

“I think you knew before you left Whirlwind that you were carrying my baby and in your letter you tried to make me believe you didn’t.”

Her breath jammed painfully in her chest. “You think I knew and went to Philadelphia without telling you?”

“Yes.”

How could he believe such a thing? “Well, I didn’t know.”

“You’re the daughter of a doctor.” He took an aggressive step toward her.

She moved back, not out of fear, but from sheer reflex.

“You helped your pa from the time you were ten, and you knew more than most about medical things. How could you not realize?”

“I was distracted by my grief over my father’s death. If there were signs of a child at that time, I didn’t catch them.”

The skeptical, scornful look on his face set off her temper.

“You are a piece of work, Matt Baldwin! Why would I lie?”

“Because if you’d admitted back then that you knew, you would’ve had to stay.” His voice rose, too. “You wouldn’t have been able to traipse halfway across the country, putting our baby at risk.”

Pain and guilt knifed through her.

“If you hadn’t been so all-fired set to get to medical school, our baby would be alive. You as good as killed him.”

Before she even realized it, her hand flew up and she slapped him. Hard.

He grabbed her wrist, his expression stunned.

Tears blurred her vision. “How dare you.”

Her hand print glowed red on his jaw. The blame was already carved into her heart, but coming from Matt, who had never even acknowledged their child? How could he have said something so cruel? Was there nothing left of the man she’d loved? If so, she couldn’t see it in those steel-cold eyes, the rigid jaw.

She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered. Very quietly, she said, “Get out.”

“You bet.” He released her with a curse.

She registered the heavy thud of his boots on the floor, the slam of the door as her entire body went numb.

He’d brought up the past and she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. She wished she had because now she was forced to admit what she had denied for seven years. She’d never gotten over him.

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