Lone Star Lover by Debbi Rawlins Read Free Book Online Page A

horizontal position. “We’ll talk more later.”
    “Help me rest?” Shit. Not more morphine. Jake wanted to spit it out but it was too late. He knew the fog would descend soon. Maybe it already had started because he felt light-headed, or maybe it was his insane imagination playing with his mind.
    He watched the doctor head for the door. Not the one that led outside, but a door Jake didn’t recall noticing before. A narrow door just past the wood-burning stove.
    “Rebecca?” He couldn’t see her. Had she left, too?
    “I’m here.” She was beside him in a second, laying her cool hand on his arm.
    “Stand where I can see you.”
    She moved to face him, her smile both sad and sweet.
    He maneuvered his hand so that their palms met. “Tell me what year this is.”
    Her eyes widened slightly and the sadness overtook her face. “It’s eighteen hundred and seventy-seven.”

    D OC D AVIS HAD LEFT at daybreak. There had been another hanging, Kitty had told Rebecca when she brought over a couple of biscuits for breakfast an hour ago. A rancher most of the townspeople knew was found dangling by his neck from a tree, but unlike the others who’d been hanged in the middle of the night over the past two months, Otis Sanford was still alive.
    Using a rag, Rebecca removed the hot iron kettle from the fire and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her hand was shaky and she spilled some of the brew onto the floor. For the third night in a row, she hadn’t slept well, but weariness wasn’t what had her jittery. Worrying about Jake had her nerves frayed. He hadn’t woken up since last evening. Had she given him too much medicine? She’d done just like the doctor had ordered, given him the exact amount she had before.
    Or maybe Jake was sicker than Doc Davis thought. That’s why he wasn’t waking up. That’s why he was so confused about where he was. Heaven help him, the poor man didn’t even know what year this was. She sank onto the chair beside him, right where she’d kept vigil most of the night, in between dozing and reading. Wrapping her hands around the cup for warmth, she took a small sip.
    Her gaze caught on the tin cup she kept on the table. She could’ve sworn she’d filled it. This was the second time the water seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Might be she was the one going mad. With her free hand, she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. It didn’t seem to matter how dutifully she’d tended the fire, the room hadn’t warmed up. She hoped Jake was comfortable enough with the wool blanket she’d thrown over him.
    She looked toward the foot of the cot where she’d carefully tucked in the edges to keep his feet warm. The blanket had come loose. Her heart beat faster. Had he moved without her seeing? Oh, how she wanted him to move, to open his eyes again, how she wanted to hear his low manly voice.
    Rebecca liked Doc Davis. He was a smart, kind man who was helping keep her out of the saloon, but she didn’t care what he said, she wouldn’t give Jake the medicine any more. It wasn’t doing him any good. For four years she’d been taught something about medicine, too. Not the kind Doc Davis approved of, but she’d learned enough to know that Jake was better when he didn’t drink it.
    After setting down her coffee, she got up to fix the blanket. She’d tucked it under Jake’s feet when she thought she saw his leg move. Her gaze flew to his face. His eyes were still closed.
    “Jake?”
    He didn’t move.
    Sniffing, she returned to sit in the chair and then pressed one of his large hands between hers. “Jake, please wake up. You have to eat something and drink more water.”
    She brought his hand up, laid her cheek against his palm and sighed at the feel of his slightly callused skin. Closing her eyes, she silently recited one of the childhood prayers she remembered.
    He flexed his hand.
    Rebecca stiffened, and then sharply drew back. She realized she was still holding his hand and