to speak. By the time they reached the house and he sat on the porch step, he felt more like a quivering mass of dizzying pain than an infamous, and temporarily retired, outlaw.
Ravena sent Jacob to the barn to see after the younger boys before she disappeared into the house, declaring she’d get Tex another drink of water. He leaned against the porch column, his gaze sweeping the familiar surroundings. He’d spent a good portion of each day at the Reids’ farm until he’d left home. Beyond the worn red barn, he noticed a structure he’d never seen before. It appeared to be the outer walls of a house.
Ravena returned and handed him a full cup, then took a seat on the opposite side of the step. She seemed determined to keep her distance.
“Is that a house back there?” Tex asked, pointing in the direction with the cup. He wasn’t sure what else it could be—but he also wasn’t sure why she needed another house.
She followed his gaze. “It will be, when it’s completed. Grandfather started it. It’s twice as large as this one so we...” She lowered chin. “I mean, I...would be able to provide a home for more orphans.”
Tex took a drink from the cup. He admired Ravena’s dedication in continuing her grandfather’s legacy. Any orphans she took in would find a good home at the farm. This place had certainly been his second home. Not only had he been welcomed day or night, but there’d always been someone to play with too.
“What are you doing here, Tex?” Her repeated question scattered his nostalgic thoughts.
“Thought it was time to see the ol’ place again,” he joked.
Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Be serious for once. You’re hurt and you’re sick. How did you get that wound in your side?”
He gulped down the rest of the water as he considered what to say. She’d made no mention of his being an outlaw, which he hoped confirmed his assumption that Ravena had no idea how he’d spent his time since he’d left here. “I was shot at,” he said opting for some measure of honesty, “and who did it doesn’t matter.”
“But you’re seriously injured.” Her gaze darted to his and then away. “If you’re hoping for a place to convalesce, it can’t be here, Tex. It just can’t. The farm and the children need all of my attention—I don’t have time to play nursemaid. Besides, you need a doctor—”
“No, I don’t. And you don’t need to concern yourself with my injury. The bullet went clean through. It’ll be fine.” At least he hoped it would once he found some place to stop and rest for a time.
Her cheeks flushed with anger as she shot to her feet. “I can see you’re just as stubborn as ever. You think you can just waltz in after nearly a decade of being gone and expect everything to be the same. Expect me to be the same.” She turned her back to him and marched toward the screen door. “I should leave you to rot right there. Because if you had any idea of the pain...”
Her words faded out, but Tex didn’t need her to finish to know what she’d meant to say.
Regret pulsed within him. He twisted around, ignoring the stab to his side. “Ravena, wait. It’s asking too much. I know.” He’d been a fool to think she’d take him in after all this time. And an even bigger fool to think that in coming here the past wouldn’t creep into his mind and heart, making him consider things best left ignored.
But if he could have just one night’s peace. One night without the fear of waking up to Quincy’s enraged face, the same face that had been haunting his dreams since fleeing Casper. “What if I stay one night? I’ll sleep in the barn. You won’t have to know I’m here.”
Would she agree? Her shoulders slumped forward and her chin dropped. “One night?” she echoed.
He had a sudden desire to stand and hold her in his arms, to bring her comfort. And yet, he’d forfeited that privilege a long time ago. “One night. That’s all. I’ll ride off tomorrow.” How he’d be able to ride and where he’d go, he didn’t know. But he wouldn’t knowingly inflict more pain on her. Or himself. Coming back here hadn’t been his most brilliant idea of late.
“Fine, you may stay one night.” She lifted her head, steely resolve radiating from her stiff posture. “And since it’s only one night and you’re injured, you might as well sleep in the house. You can have my room. I’ll go prepare it.”
He considered arguing that he could sleep on the sofa instead, but he didn’t want to raise her ire further. “Thank you.”
She opened the screen and moved purposely inside, apparently ignoring him. But right before the door slammed shut, he heard her whisper, “You’re welcome.”
* * *
Ravena sat up, one hand pressed to her nightgown, over her pounding heart. A loud thud overhead had snatched her from sleep. Perhaps Ginny was having another nightmare. Which meant Ravena would need to hurry upstairs to the girls’ room to console her before Fanny woke up too.
Throwing off her blankets, she rose from the sofa and lit a lamp to take with her. A peek into the girls’ room showed her that both Ginny and Fanny were deep in slumber. Nothing appeared amiss in the boys’ room either. Confused, Ravena paused outside her bedroom where Tex was sleeping. She’d bid him good-night after bringing him some of her grandfather’s clothes, including a nightshirt. After her grandfather’s funeral, she’d simply packed up his things and put them in the attic. Then she’d moved herself out of the girls’ room into the master bedroom, much to the delight of Fanny and Ginny who each had a bed of their own now.
She couldn’t hear any noise coming from Tex’s room either. Perhaps the noise had come from outside? Flipping her long braid over her shoulder, she started back down the hall when an audible groan penetrated through her bedroom door. She moved back to it and called, “Tex? Are you all right?”
There was no reply. A flicker of concern prompted her to turn the knob and stick her head inside the room. “Tex?”
He wasn’t in bed. Instead he lay sprawled on the floor, his bare feet sticking out of the borrowed trousers he wore beneath the long nightshirt. He was trembling from head to toe. Ravena inhaled a sharp gasp and rushed over.
“Tex?” She set the lamp aside and knelt next to him. “What happened?”
“Quincy,” he murmured. “Can’t find...”
Did he mean his horse? “Quincy’s just fine,” Ravena soothed. “We put him in the barn. He’s safe.”
Tex’s eyes flew open, and he gazed wildly around until seeing her. He latched onto her wrist with surprising strength. “It’s not safe, Ravena. He’ll come for it. I know...” His words became incoherent mumbles, his eyes falling shut once more.
She lifted her hand and placed it against his forehead. He was burning with fever. Panic sliced through her. Tex was more ill than he’d let on earlier. And likely wouldn’t be better by morning. Her concern ratcheted higher. “Tex, we need to get you back into bed.”
He wouldn’t be much help getting up in his fevered state, but she wasn’t a weakling either. Gripping him under his arms, she wrested his upper body as gently as possible off the floor and onto the bed. She propped his legs up next, then repositioned the pillow beneath his head.
“I need to get a better look at your wound, all right?” She didn’t really expect an answer, and yet, she felt compelled to explain why she needed to peek at his side, especially after his insistence that he’d be fine without her help. Tugging his nightshirt up, she wasn’t surprised to find a bloodied bandage underneath.
She peeled back just enough of the soiled cloth to get a look at his injury and promptly gagged at his mottled flesh. Turning away, she clapped a hand over her mouth. She knew a little about sickness, farm injuries and medicine from her grandmother. Olive Reid had learned the skills of midwifery and nursing from her mother and had doctored most of the townsfolk during her lifetime, at least until an actual doctor had set up practice.