Bone Deep (34 page)

Now Walker and the other men were maneuvering Jim through the narrow doorway of his room. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out as they jostled his body. When they laid him on his cot, he exhaled in relief.

His small room was crowded with bodies, but soon all of the men left except his two bosses, Murdoch and Rasmussen
, the livery owner
. They spoke together a moment. He couldn’t see their lips and was too tired
to read them anyway
. His eyes drifted closed.

They opened again at the pressure of Murdoch’s hand on his shoulder. He explained slowly that the doctor was out on a call, patted Jim’s shoulder and left the room.

Mr. Rasmussen sat on the edge of the bed, pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned, a sure sign he didn’t know what he was doing. He might be able to wrap a horse’s strained leg, but what did he know about people? Jim inhaled a deep breath and pain pierced his side. Something was wrong with his ribs. He gestured to his side, letting Rasmussen know. The man nodded and began unbuttoning what was left of his
shredded shirt.

A movement in the doorway caught Jim’s attention. The schoolteacher stood framed there in her blue and white-flowered dress with her daffodil-colored hair. A faint scent of lily-of-the-valley perfume wafted to him. She was like a flower garden filling the dark
, stuffy room
.

She looked
at Rasmussen before entering the room. Only a few paces brought her to the edge of Jim’s bed.

He couldn’t stop staring at her like the idiot everyone thought he was. The sight of her fresh, feminine form in his dingy room was unbelievable, besides which he was dizzy and near passing out from the pain
throbbing
in his head. His gaze fastened on her lips.

“
What
can
I
do?” she asked Rasmussen.

The stableman turned toward her so Jim couldn’t see his reply. Miss Johnson nodded and left the room. He felt pain that had nothing to do with his injured body as she disappeared from view.

Rasmussen lifted Jim’s torso, peeled off his long-sleeved shirt and undershirt, and lowered him back onto the bed. Colors and lights flashed in front of his eyes and the edges of his vision grew dark. Oh God, his worst nightmare was coming true. He would be blinded from the blow to his head and left totally helpless. His pulse
beat
wildly as panic surged through him. He gasped for breath
and could see again
.
Rasmussen was frowning at him.

“
Where does it hurt?”

Jim
indicated
his head.

“
Y
ou’ll be all right. I’ll fix you up.”

How the hell do you know? You can barely tend the horses!
Jim nodded, his jaw clenching
at the pain
.

Suddenly the teacher was back. She
carried
a bucket of water in one hand and some clean rags from the tack room in the other. Offering them to Rasmussen, she glanced at Jim. Her eyes widened
at the sight of
his
bare
torso and she quickly looked away.

Rasmussen rose, indicating she should take his seat and wash the blood and dust from Jim’s face and body. He was going to get liniment. The teacher looked after Rasmussen as he walked from the room, her mouth open as
if
to protest, then she closed it and turned back to Jim. Her smile was tense.

“You. Read. Lips?” She s
haped
each word carefully.

He nodded.

“I’m going to clean you.” She sat on the cot next to him, her
warm
hip pressed against his. She dipped one of the rags, squeezed it out and leaned over him to sponge off the blood at his temple.
The cloth
was cold
but it felt good
.

He let his eyes drift closed and submitted to the pressure of the wet cloth dabb
ing
his face. She held his chin in her other hand as she bathed his forehead, cheek and neck. Her
skin
was soft and the scent of lilies much stronger with her so close. Beneath the flowers, he could smell her body, a secret, womanly aroma.

Jim opened his eyes, watching her bend to rinse the rag in the bucket. Her sun-colored hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Tendrils of hair curled around her face. Two perfectly arched, light brown eyebrows were knitted in a frown of concentration over sky-blue eyes. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and his heart jolted in his chest.

Turning back to him, she began patting again, this time on the bloody abrasion on his shoulder. The pink blush rising in her cheeks told him she was uncomfortable touching him. A lady didn’t do such things to a strange man. He couldn’t stop watching her eyes even though she
refused to
meet his gaze. He’d never seen eyes so blue.

All he knew about her was that she was the new teacher. He’d seen her around town a few times. Once, at the mercantile he’d watched as she laughed and talked with a little girl. Her smile and the sweet affection she’d shown the child had made him smile. He’d also seen her walking to and from the schoolhouse
. B
ut he didn’t know her name. No one had said it in front of him and he couldn’t ask. There was no reason for him to know it.
Ye
t now he was desperate to have a word for her, a shape of the lips that meant
her
, even if he couldn’t imagine what the word sounded like.

Jim touched her hand and
s
he finally looked at him. He pointed at her and raised his eyebrows, requesting her name.

“Catherine Johnson.” Her hand touched her chest and her lips moved slowly over each syllable.

Mimicking her, he felt her name with his thrusting tongue and moving lips. Without knowing the sound, he’d never forget the shapes. Memorization came easy to him.

Jim nodded and smiled, accepting the gift of her name.