Wish Upon a Cowboy by Maureen Child, Kathleen Kane Read Free Book Online

about ten hours' sleep would help him at this point.
    "I asked if Juana was sick," she said slowly, carefully, as she would to a dim-witted child. "Is it a cold?"
    Who said anything about a cold? Scowling, he said, "No. She's not sick. She turned her ankle last night."
    "No." Surprise widened her eyes. "Are you sure?"
    "Of course I'm sure," he snapped. "I watched it swell up like a toad myself."
    "But that's not right."
    Odd way to put it, he thought and pulled his foot out from beneath the cat, who merely moved over to take up its roost again. Mac sighed.
    "It's not… serious, is it?" she asked, taking a step toward him, concern deepening the color of those green eyes of hers. Her gaze shifted to dart about the cluttered room as if expecting to find the injured woman lying beneath a mound of dirty jeans. "Can I see her?" she asked. "Maybe I can help… I have to help." Shaking her head worriedly, she muttered, "What could have gone wrong this time? I was so careful."
    That last sentence almost slipped past him, since the words had come out in a whispered hush of sound. "Gone wrong with what?" he asked. "And you were careful about what?"
    Her gaze snapped to his and if he wasn't completely mistaken, he thought he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. But what the hell did she have to be guilty about? She hadn't dug the gopher hole. If anyone should be feeling badly about this, it should be him. But he'd been so busy getting ready for roundup and doing everything else around here, he'd let the ranch yard fall into disrepair, too.
    "Nothing, nothing. It's just… I don't understand," she muttered as if to herself. "It wasn't supposed to be her ankle…"
    Oh, he didn't have the time or the patience for this. He was just too blamed tired. "It wasn't supposed to be anything. It was a damned accident. She stepped in a gopher hole on her way to the hen house."
    "Where is she?" Hannah asked, still looking around the room.
    "She's not here," he said flatly, "so you can quit looking. I drove her to her sister's house last night," he scrubbed both hands across his face and sighed wearily. "I'm sure she's fine and probably sleeping like a baby." Dislodging the cat one more time, he turned for the kitchen, waving at Hannah to follow.
    *  *  *
    God, he needed sleep. And if not that, then at least coffee. Thick, hot, and black. Gallons of it. Grabbing the pot off the back of the stove, he carried it to the sink and set it down again while he worked the pump. A screech of sound split the air as the iron pump handle groaned into life.
    A rush of water splashed into the blackened pot and when it was full he set it aside. Then, bending over, Mac stuck his head beneath the spout and pumped more of the icy well water over the back of his head. A moment later, he came up sputtering, but more awake than before. Frigid droplets of water rolled down beneath the collar of his shirt to snake along his chest and back. He shivered as he turned to face Hannah, just as her cat settled in on his feet again.
    "Where's your friend?" she asked. "Elias, is it?"
    "Yeah, that's him," he jerked a thumb toward the back door. "He's outside finishing the work on the branding pen."
    "He's all right, then?"
    â€˜"Course he is."
    "Just making sure," she said. "I feel just dreadful about Juana," she added in a stunned whisper as she took in the state of the big kitchen.
    He frowned at the cat and didn't even bother to look around. This room was in worse shape than the main room because this place saw more action. One or more of the men was continually going in and out of the kitchen for coffee or a quick sandwich. At night, he and Elias sat around the table making plans for the ranch as they ate dinner. And, he was forced to admit, Juana wasn't exactly the tidiest cook in the territory.
    The chickens she had been working on the night before still lay across the table, plucked and ready to be sliced up for frying. If Hannah didn't cook them, he realized bleakly,