Chapter 16

16

Maisy couldn't keep from screaming. The burning in her shoulder felt as though someone was thrusting a cattle branding iron deep into her flesh and torturing her.

Every time she awoke to her own screaming, Tanner was at her side, his handsome face hovering above her as he pressed a cool cloth against her hot face and neck.

Even in her delirious state, she could see the worry in his eyes and knew she wasn't doing well.

She couldn't tell where she was, although she had vague recollections of riding a horse away from her mountain cabin and arriving at a doctor's office someplace. But the memories were scattered, and she wasn't sure what was real anymore.

Had she gotten shot trying to save Smoke? And had Tanner brought her down the mountain? Was he really with her? Or was she only dreaming everything?

A few times when she thrashed about, a young woman was also there, bending over her with compassionate green eyes and a forehead furrowed with anxiety. Another time or two, she thought she saw an older man's face, perhaps the doctor.

But mostly she saw Tanner. And whenever he wasn't there, she cried out for him. She wasn't sure why she needed him so much, but he was the only one she wanted.

As she regained consciousness after what seemed an eternity of suffering, her fingers pressed against the cool sheets beneath her. She could feel that she was in a bed, although from the firmness of the mattress, she knew it wasn't the one in the cabin.

In an instant, she sensed that the burning in her body was gone. All that was left was a low throbbing in her shoulder.

Her eyes flew open to reveal a room she'd never been in before—one with log walls and low rafters. Natural light filtered through a single window framed by simple blue curtains, and she guessed the day was cloudy or that it was almost evening.

At the scratching of what sounded like pen against paper, she shifted and saw Tanner sitting in a chair beside the bed with a journal open on his lap. He was busy writing, his focus on the paper, his mind clearly filled with whatever thoughts he was bringing to life.

He was wearing a blue wool shirt—one she hadn't seen on him before but that brought out the life and energy in his face, highlighting the angular lines of his jaw and cheeks. Although his face was still covered in a layer of scruff, it wasn't quite as thick as it had been previously. His hair was mussed, but it looked freshly washed.

She glanced around the room again, searching for some sign of where they were. It was a small but clean room, and the scent of something freshly baked and sweet wafted in the air, making her stomach rumble.

How long had it been since she'd eaten?

As though he'd heard her question, or at least heard her stomach's complaint, his gaze darted to her.

At the sight of her eyes open, he startled, dropped his pen, and fumbled with his journal. "You're awake."

"Yes, it looks that way." Her voice came out scratchy. "I reckon I wouldn't be this hungry if I were just dreaming."

"You're hungry?" He sat forward, scanning her face and then her shoulder.

She started to push herself up and only then realized her shoulder was bare except for a loose bandage covering her. She also seemed to be wearing a thin nightgown, but it was only partially covering her body so that her injury was easy to access.

As the sheet on top fell away, too late she realized just how indecent she was. Before the sheet could slip farther down, she clutched it and flattened herself to the mattress and mound of pillows behind her.

Thankfully, Tanner didn't seem to be paying attention to her state of undress and was instead setting aside his journal and standing. "Is your fever finally gone?"

"I think so." She cupped one of her hands to her forehead. Her skin felt cool and clammy.

"Thank the Lord in heaven above." His eyes rapidly turned glossy, and he pivoted away and pressed his thumbs to his eyes.

"Was I that bad?" She'd never seen Tanner so emotional before.

He nodded but didn't speak.

"Close to dying?"

He nodded again.

Though she felt weak, she didn't feel sick. "How long did I have the fever?"

Drawing in a breath, he turned back around, his expression composed but grave. "We've been here about a week."

She'd been battling a fever for a week?

"The gunshot wound festered pretty badly." He nodded toward the bedside table that was filled with bottles of medicine of every shape and size. "But the doctor had all the right medicines. And then, of course, Clementine found some of our ma's herbal remedies and applied those."

Maisy took in the room again. "Does that mean we're at your family's ranch?"

"Yes."

Her mind was fuzzy on the details of all that had happened, as though she was wading through thick fog to find the answers, especially how she'd gotten there.

Tanner stepped closer and laid a hand on her forehead.

His touch was cool and gentle, and she loved it, as always. But even as she was tempted to lean into his touch, she paused. Something had happened between them to push them apart. What was it?

"The fever is gone." His voice filled with relief.

"Didn't believe I could tell the difference between hot and cold?" she teased.

"Didn't believe you were really awake." His lips formed into one of his charming grins—one that curled his upper lip in that adorable way that made her want to kiss it.

Kiss him? What was she thinking?

His eyes took on the twinkle that she loved. "There were a couple of times you awoke and said some interesting things."

"Like what?"

His gaze shifted to her mouth before darting away and looking everywhere but at her.

It was something embarrassing. "C'mon, big guy. Just tell me."

He shook his head, his brown eyes as rich and warm and kind as always. "I'll go get you something to eat."

"Not till you tell me what I said."

He shrugged as if he'd tried to warn her. "It was about kissing."

"What did I say?"

His grin inched up again. "You sure you want to hear?"

She tried to swat him playfully, but she could hardly lift her arm, grimacing instead at the pain the slight movement caused.

"Take it easy, darlin'."

"Tell me," she demanded.

"You bossed me around for a kiss."

He couldn't be serious. "I did not."

"You did." He tilted his head almost arrogantly. "In fact, you told everyone just how much you love my kisses."

"Hush up." Her mind scrambled for some memory, and she had the vague feeling she'd been sitting on Tanner's lap and had been talking about kissing him. "Who heard me say it?"

"Maverick and Clementine." Tanner's eyes were filled with mirth.

Fresh heat splashed through her, this time from embarrassment. "I was delusional. That's all. And I didn't mean one lick of what I said."

He chuckled softly. "I think you meant every word."

She tried to reach for her pillow to toss at him, but she only managed to pull it out part way before she was breathing hard.

"Hey, now." Tanner's humor disappeared as he adjusted the pillow back under her head. "No pillow fights today."

A sense of exhaustion was already beginning to press through her. She didn't understand how she could be so tired after having been in bed all week, but after being close to death, it would probably take time before she was feeling back to normal.

After situating her, Tanner left the room, making her promise to stay awake until he returned with something to eat. Once he was gone, unease sifted through her. Something wasn't right. Even though they'd bantered like they always had, Tanner wasn't himself, as though a wall had gone up between them.

She closed her eyes and quieted her thoughts, turning them back to the last memory she had of the cabin. She'd gone after help for Nelly and had fallen from the trail onto a ledge. Smoke had gone off and returned with Tanner.

Smoke.

Maisy sat up so abruptly that the bandage fell from her wound. The sheet started to slip down too, but she clutched it and brought it up to her chin.

The memories of the last night in the cabin came rushing back—how she'd kissed Tanner and told him she might be falling in love with him. But he'd disregarded the kiss and her love in one easy move when he'd unholstered his gun and almost shot Smoke.

All the humor and relief from moments ago fled from her heart as if fleeing from an impending storm. A cold emptiness filled her instead.

Tanner had rejected her offer of love and a life together. Even more than simply rejecting her offer, he'd tried to sabotage their relationship by killing Smoke. She knew with certainty that was why he'd broken the kiss and aimed his gun at the wolf—because in doing so, he knew that she'd end up hating him. And in hating him, she'd be able to let him go.

He could have just told her he didn't want to be with her, that he didn't foresee a future together.

But if he'd admitted it, would she have listened, especially since he'd already hinted that was how he felt? With how stubborn she was, she probably would have kept pestering him until he gave in to her and relinquished all his plans in order to be with her. And that wasn't how she wanted to win him over.

She wanted a man to love her freely enough that he wouldn't care where he was or what he was doing as long as he was with her.

But Tanner didn't want to give her that kind of love. He'd made that clear enough at the cabin.

She lowered herself back to the pillows and closed her eyes tightly, squeezing back sudden hot tears. The problem was, she didn't hate him for what had happened with Smoke. She could never hate him.

But she was angry at him for making her fall in love with him and then not wanting her. It was an irrational anger, she knew. But the frustration swirled inside anyway.

And disappointment. Mostly at herself for being so weak. She'd watched the way her ma and Nelly had struggled in their marriages—the loneliness, heartache, and difficulties. She'd told herself she wouldn't settle for the same kind of life they'd had, that she wanted more.

But after less than a week with Tanner and a few kisses, she'd been willing and ready to throw away all her plans to be with him. Even though she'd tried hard to keep from being like Ma and Nelly, maybe she wasn't so different after all.

Confound it all. She couldn't forget all that Ma and Nelly had suffered, and she had to stop letting herself care about Tanner—had to cut her feelings off and move forward without him.

It was the only way.

"Clementine baked some sweet rolls." Tanner's voice came from the doorway, full of life and enthusiasm. "And I have a cup of freshly brewed coffee."

She rolled so that she was facing away from him, her eyes still closed. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Partway across the room, Tanner's footsteps halted. He stood quietly, likely watching her and trying to make sense of her abrupt mood change.

She probably should just talk to him and tell him everything she was feeling. But hadn't she already tried to have a conversation at the cabin about them and the changing nature of their relationship? He'd made his position clear, and now it was time for her to do the same.

After a moment, his footsteps continued to the bed, stopping behind her. "I guess you remembered everything that happened at the cabin."

"Yep. And the less we say to each other, the better."

He was silent for a beat. "I regret how I handled everything. I was a fool, and I apologize—"

"Fine. I accept your apology, but that doesn't mean I want to be friends anymore."

"I'm sorry I hurt you." His voice held remorse. "But I want to make it up to you."

"Nope. What happened was for the best. It reminded me of why we could never work out and why I can't give up the future I want."

He didn't respond.

"You were right." She forced the words she knew she needed to say. "You're no good for me, and I can't change my plans for you."

The words sounded as harsh this time as they had when he'd spoken them, but she had to force herself to accept the truth. And she had to make sure he understood that she wasn't letting herself be swept away by his charm any longer.

He sighed, then waited for several moments, as if he expected her to say more.

But she'd done enough to make a fool of herself over him, and now she had to muster up self-respect and self-preservation. The best thing was to cut him out of her life.

"I'll leave this food here for you."

"Fine. Thank you."

She could hear him moving aside medicine bottles and setting dishes on the bedside table. When he finished, he waited another minute.

Her muscles tensed with the need for him to reassure her that everything would be okay between them. But even as the longing swelled deep inside, she forced it back down. Although it would be painful, she had to break the connection. Then she could finally prove to herself that she was a stronger and better woman than her ma.

She clamped her lips together and didn't move.

A few seconds later, his footsteps continued across the room and out the door. As soon as the steps began to recede down the hallway, she let out a breath.

Hot tears slipped from her eyes even though she had them squeezed shut. She swiped them away and tried to make herself angry at Tanner again. But the longing inside was still too strong, and she suspected it would be until she was far away from him.

That meant she had to get better and leave just as soon as she could.