Chapter 21

21

A fter the chores were complete, Leah found herself seated on the floor of the main room, the hem of her dress pulled up just enough to reveal the splint on her right leg. Miriam crouched on one side and Gideon's large form kneeled on the other. If Emily could see her now, she would be appalled. A man allowed to see not only Leah's ankle, but her entire lower leg.

There didn't seem to be another option though. She would have to think of him as a doctor. That wasn't too hard to do as he removed a large knife from the pouch at his hip and carefully sliced through the outer strips of fabric. When the wood fell away from her leg, relief flooded the area where the sticks had rubbed.

Then he began to unwrap the bandage that covered her skin, and her eyes drifted to Gideon's face. His focus was intense as he studied her leg where the cloth had been. Twin lines formed between his dark brows, and her fingers itched to smooth the pucker. A shadow of stubble had grown on his face. The distinct line across his cheeks had softened, the pale skin across his jaw having turned golden.

He turned to look at her. She'd been caught staring. Heat flushed her cheeks, but he was kind enough not to react.

"From the outside, it looks like the bone healed well. You should go easy on it for a few days until it gets used to carrying weight without the splint. And use both crutches again."

She wrinkled her nose at that suggestion. As happy as she'd been to receive them and as thankful as she was for the freedom they'd given her early on, she couldn't wait until she never had to look at the encumbering sticks again.

"If you put too much weight on the bone too soon, you'll risk a permanent limp, or even another break."

His words settled over her like a sobering cloak. She nodded, and Gideon rose to his feet, sheathing the knife. While Miriam gathered the sticks and dirty bandages, Leah flipped her skirt over her toes and slowly flexed her foot. The muscles burned, but it seemed more from disuse than the sharp ache of the broken bone.

Miriam and Gideon stood on either side to help her to her feet, then Miriam handed Leah the crutches. Leah gave them both as bright a smile as she could muster through the sting in her leg. "Thank you so much for your help. My leg feels a great deal better now."

Gideon eyed her with a wary expression, as if he knew her words were an act.

"I think I'll take my leave for the night. We've had a busy day." She needed to escape to her room where she could rest without having to maintain a strong front. It had been a trying day, first with the chicken lesson and now with the renewed pain in her leg.

Miriam leaned forward to give Leah a hug. "G'night, Leah. Sleep well."

Leah balanced the crutches at the crook of her arms as she squeezed her friend back. Gideon watched them both, his expression hard to read. Almost a mixture of yearning and reserve, as if he were holding himself back from something he desperately wanted.

As she leaned back from Miriam's hug, Leah glanced at Gideon again and found he had turned away. She gripped her crutches and hobbled toward her room. "Goodnight all," she called over her shoulder.

A few weeks later, Gideon rode toward the barn earlier in the evening than usual. A newborn calf lay across his legs, its head rocking with the rhythm of the horse's gait. Every so often, the calf would offer a sad bleat, as if mourning the fate of its mother, who had abandoned it into this cold, scary world.

He rubbed the animal's soft neck. "It'll be all right, girl. We're goin' to a place where they'll take good care of you."

Poor little thing. The birth had been hard, with the calf turned the wrong direction and coming out tail-first. He and the mama had fought for hours to bring the calf into this new environment. The poor cow had died shortly after the little fighter stood to her feet, leaving Gideon to care for her offspring.

Hopefully Leah and Miriam would be willing to take over, since they would be close to the barn during the day. As many times as Leah had asked to ride down to see the herd and the new calves, she would probably be excited to help care for the little heifer. For a city girl, she certainly had taken to ranch life. He still couldn't believe she'd plucked and cleaned that chicken, although it hadn't escaped him she'd not taken a bite of it. Still, she didn't complain.

For now, the most important thing was to get some milk in this calf. The mama hadn't been strong enough to stand and nurse, so the little one hadn't had a good meal yet.

As he rode into the ranch yard, Leah stood in the garden, holding a very full apron in both hands. She was regal, even covered in dirt and her hair falling in tendrils around her face.

He headed that direction, and as soon as she saw him, she dumped her load at the edge of the garden and hobbled in his direction. The stubborn girl had stopped using the crutches, even though the bone probably still pained when she walked.

As she neared, her pretty face lit like a lantern in a dark barn.

"You brought us a calf?" Wonder filled her voice.

He nodded. "She had a hard birthing and the mama didn't make it. I brought her up here so we can feed her until she's weaned."

A shadow crossed Leah's face when he mentioned the birth, but faded away as she reached to stroke the calf's velvety face. Its tongue snaked out to catch her wrist and Leah smiled like a child given a new toy.

He could have sat there all day and watched that smile, but the calf was already weakening. It needed nourishment soon or it would meet the same fate as its mother.

"I need to get her to the barn and feed her. Have you skimmed the milk from this morning yet?"

Leah's gaze lifted to his face as her other hand drifted up to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun. Her expression, always so easy to read, showed her mind turning as she tried to understand the reason behind his question. "No, we were letting the cream rise to make butter."

He nodded, "Good. Can you stir it good and bring me half of what's there? You can let the rest separate again. We'll need to split out half of Bethany's milk for this little girl for a while." He patted the soft shoulder in his lap.

Leah nodded, giving the heifer a final rub before moving toward the cabin. "I'll bring it to the barn."

By the time he had the calf settled in a stall and the saddle stripped from his horse, Leah and Miriam had returned to the barn with the half bucket of milk. Miri set it down and squealed softly when she saw the calf, then eased into the stall with her palm outstretched. The little one was wobbly on its feet, but at least it was standing.

Gideon grabbed the bucket handle and slipped into the stall next to his sister, leaving Leah to watch from the open gate. He kneeled in front of the calf, dipped two fingers in the milk, and then held them in front of the cow's nose. It sniffed for a second, then nosed his fingers, pushing them away in the process. He dipped them in the milk again and prodded the calf's lips, slipping his fingers into its mouth. His fingers tingled as the calf sucked once—a good start. Once it got used to the sucking motion, he would draw her head down to the milk in the bucket and help her learn to drink.

"Can I try?" Leah's rich voice drifted to him from just behind his right shoulder, not outside the stall where he'd left her. She stepped beside him and kneeled, only slightly awkward with her weak leg.

Without waiting for his response, Leah dipped her fingers in the bucket of milk and held her index and middle fingers out to the calf, the same way he had done. The calf began to suck her milk-laced fingers, eliciting Leah's soft giggle. But she didn't pull back.

Gideon picked up the bucket by the base and held it toward the calf with both hands. "See if you can draw her mouth down into the milk."

The calf continued to suck as Leah lowered her hand into the bucket. But just before the little nose touched milk, it broke suction. Leah dipped her finger in the milk and tried again. This time, the calf's nose dipped into the liquid and it came up sputtering and blowing. Its long tongue reached out to lick the white film from its wet nose.

"Try it again," Gideon said, but Leah was already dipping her fingers in the milk. She had a natural instinct around the animals and seemed to enjoy them, if her overjoyed expression was any sign.

This time the calf continued to suck Leah's fingers even after its mouth dipped into the milk.

"Good." Gideon kept his voice hushed. "Now see if you can gradually pull your fingers out of her mouth and let her keep drinking the milk."

She moved slowly and the trick worked just right. She withdrew her fingers from the milk, but the calf continued to drink, gulping like a dying man at an oasis in the desert.

Leah sat back on her heels with a satisfied sigh. He couldn't help but watch the woman, the view of her much more interesting than the new calf before them. Her hair was a rich caramel in the dim light of the barn, with several layers falling from their pins in loose waves down her neck and shoulders. The features on her face were fine, straight and proportioned almost perfectly. Feminine, but not fragile. Her cheeks were tinted pink, probably from the excitement of the moment.

She turned then, drawing him into the depths of her green gaze. Her eyes were windows, displaying her innermost thoughts. In them was vulnerability…and something else. Trust?

Before he could be sure, she dropped her gaze, and a deeper red suffused her cheeks. His hands itched to touch her face, so soft and inviting. He would raise her chin for another look through that window. For some reason, he wanted to know what this woman thought. How she felt about this place…about her life…about him .

A stirring in the hay behind them brought Gideon's attention back to his surroundings. Miriam. He'd forgotten she was standing there. If she'd noticed his ogling, he was sure to hear about it later.

He turned back to the calf and found Leah scratching behind its ear, the same way she rubbed Drifter. The little animal had its neck stretched out, relishing the bliss of the massage.

He couldn't help but smile at the picture they made. If she'd been raised out west and not in some fine eastern city, she would have made a good rancher's wife.