Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) by Pamela BAUER Read Free Book Online Page B

“It’s my name—Wood.”
    “Maybe it’s what his friends call him,” Gabby said softly.
    Hannah didn’t want to become any more familiar with him than she already was. “You want me to call you Wood instead of Alfred?”
    He nodded. “What should I call you? Angel?” A ghost of a smile creased his lips causing Hannah’s insides to tingle in an odd way. “I thought you were a dream, but you’re real, aren’t you?”
    Hannah took a step away from the bed. She didn’t want this helpless man looking at her as if she were his own personal nightingale. “I think I should go back to the house,” she told Gabby. “You can nurse him or do whatever....”
    “I’ll see if he has a temperature,” Gabby told her.
    Wood groaned when she slipped the thermometer between his lips.
    “Maybe we should take him to the hospital,” Hannah suggested, thinking that at least they would get him off the farm.
    Again there was a groan of protest from Wood.
    “I told you he doesn’t want to go to the doctor,” Gabby said in a near whisper. “I think we should wait and see how he is in the morning.” She studied her watch. “He’s falling asleep.” Within a few seconds she was carefully removing the thermometer.
    “It’s normal,” she announced, once again shaking the mercury down.
    “Then why is he so hot?” Again Hannah rubbed her own wrist, still feeling the impact of his touch.
    “I told you. He was hit by lightning,” Jeremy insisted. “When I touched him that first time I got a shock.”
    So did Hannah, but not the electrical kind. Her shock was more of a sexual awareness of the man—which was ridiculous. There was no way she could be attracted to someone so coarse.
    Wood stirred, causing .his arm to flop over the edge of the bed. Hannah automatically put it back at his side. As she did, she caught a glimpse of reddened skin beneath the cuff. She pushed back the stiff cotton and gasped. Rope bums circled his wrist. A look at his other hand confirmed her suspicions—his wrists had been tied together.
    Jeremy noticed the marks as well. “See. I bet those were caused by the lightning—just like the ones on his neck.”
    Hannah’s heart began to pound. “He has marks on his neck?”
    Jeremy nodded. “They’re under his collar.”
    Carefully, Hannah eased back a corner of his shirt and saw the inverted vee ringing his neck. “That’s not from lightning,” she told Jeremy.
    “Then what is it?” Gabby asked.
    “Jeremy, run up to the house and call Red Murphy and tell him to come over here right away,” Hannah instructed, backing away from the bed.
    “Why? What’s wrong?” Gabby demanded.
    “Just do as I say,” Hannah ordered her son, who hadn’t moved.
    “But why, Mom?” Jeremy wanted to know. “Is he a criminal or something?”
    “No, he’s not a criminal,” Gabby protested loudly. “He’s a guest.” She turned to confront Hannah. “Why won’t you believe me when I say he’s a good man?”
    Hannah steered her aunt to a corner of the room, away from Jeremy’s curious stare. “Those are rope burns on his neck,” she told the older woman in a low voice. “Your Mr. Dumler must have tried to commit suicide.”
    Gabby gasped. “That can’t be! He’s a nice young man. I’ve talked to him on the phone and I’ve checked his references.”
    “Then why does he have marks on his neck as if he tried to hang himself? And the ones on his wrist are probably from having to be restrained. Your hired help could very well be an escapee from a mental hospital!”
    “He’s not! I told you, I checked him out before I invited him here. I even talked to the farmer he worked for in Nebraska. If you want, I can give you his phone number and you can call him and hear for yourself that Alfred’s a good man.” Indignation flashed in her eyes. “Why won’t you believe me?”
    Hannah could see she had offended her aunt. Her cheeks were flushed and she was fidgeting like a wind-up doll. “Gabby,