Wild At Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Vickie McDonough

BOOK: Wild At Heart
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He strode out of the room, and again Adam felt his big brother’s disappointment.

Anna crossed the room and hugged him. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just worried about you.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“I’m so thankful to God that you’re safe. Let’s get that dirty shirt off.” Anna tugged at his sleeve, freeing his arm, then wadded up the soiled shirt. She sat on the edge of the ladder-back chair in the corner by the window, brown eyes dancing. “So, tell me about the woman you brought home.”

Adam harrumphed. “She brought me home. Not the other way around. Wanted to help me as a way of saying thanks, so I let her.”

“She’s pretty.”

“For a greenhorn.” Adam scooted down, trying to get comfortable. Every way he moved made his arm ache. Exhaustion weighed down his eyelids. He yawned. “Make sure someone gets her back to town in time for the next train—and let’s pay for her ticket. She probably has family wondering where she is.”

Anna pressed her lips together and studied the floor. After several moments, she looked up. “I’d like to ask her to stay awhile.”

“What? Are you crazy? She’s a stranger. We know nothing about her.”

Anna shrugged one shoulder. “No, but I do get lonely, especially now that Ma is in Bismarck.”

“She’s not your playmate, sis.”

Anna pulled a face. “Do you need anything right now?”

He didn’t miss how she deftly changed the subject, but he didn’t feel like arguing.

“Another dose of laudanum,” he considered saying. But he despised how the pain medicine had made him woozy. Adam shook his head then reconsidered. “Maybe some water?”

“Sure.”

In what seemed like a few seconds, Anna returned. She helped him sit up enough to drink a glass of cool water then assisted him down again. She stuffed a pillow under his wounded arm, which allowed him to relax it without as much pain. “Thanks.”

“You rest for a while. I’m going to see to our guest.”

Adam was grateful Anna was tending to Fancy Feathers. With the lateness of the hour, hospitality dictated they should invite her to stay the night. Though he was embarrassed for her to see him in this lacking physical state, he didn’t know how he would have managed to get home without her help.

Another yawn tugged at his lips. What would Miss Lansing look like without her big hat and her soft, brown hair hanging down around her face?

Perhaps in the morning he’d feel good enough to find out who she’d come to visit, so he could send her on her way. Greenhorns had no business leaving their big cities. Just look at all the trouble this one had caused.

Mariah rubbed at her blistered hands and wondered how long they’d smell of leather. She alternated between studying the parlor and worrying about Adam McFarland. For some reason, he’d seemed irritated to have the big man assist him. She wondered if the man called Quinn was Adam’s brother. They didn’t resemble each other much in coloring but were similar in build, except that Quinn was a few inches taller. Both were long in the legs and broad in the shoulders.

Her gaze landed on a family portrait. A handsome, dark-haired man stood behind a pretty woman with pale hair, who sat in a chair. The man’s hand rested on her shoulder. Beside them stood three children. One a gangly adolescent, and the shorter—a boy and girl, who were equal in height.

“That portrait was taken in Texas over ten years ago, when my father was still alive.”

Mariah swung around to face Mr. McFarland’s sister. “It’s wonderful that you have something so nice to remember him by. So, is your mother still living?”

“Yes, she’s in Bismarck tending my grandmother, who broke her leg.” The woman stopped beside Mariah. “I can still remember how I hated standing so long while the painter was working. The boys kept tickling me and getting me in trouble for squirming. But I’m glad we have the painting now. I often gaze at it so I don’t forget what my father looked like.”

“You favor your mother.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. If you couldn’t tell by the painting, Adam is my twin brother. We look a bit alike. Our mouths and noses are similar, but Adam has dark hair like our father’s. I’m Anna McFarland, by the way.”

“Mariah Lansing. Pleased to meet you.” Mariah nodded at the colorful canvas. “And the man who helped your brother inside is the taller boy in the painting?”

“Yes, that’s Quinn. He’s five years older than us. He’s been in charge of the ranch ever since Pa died.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. I lost my parents when I was young.” Mariah hugged her satchel to her chest. The day’s journey and excitement had finally caught up with her, and she longed to rest.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for your loss also.”

A heavyset woman scurried into the room. Mariah’s gaze landed on the tray containing a teapot and cups and a plate of breads and cookies. The fresh scents made her mouth water. The woman set the tray on a coffee table in front of a leather couch. “Welcome to the Rocking M.”

“Thank you.” Mariah nodded. “Welcome” sounded more like
velcome
and “the” more like
de.
With her accent and the woman’s braided buns curled onto the sides of her head, Mariah surmised she must be German. “Might I clean up a bit before taking refreshments?”

Anna scanned Mariah’s travel dress then pursed her lips. She captured Mariah’s gaze. “I’m thinking we should soak your dress in cold water. We might yet be able to salvage it.”


Ja
, I will do the soaking and get the guest room ready for the visitor.”

“This is Leyna. She’s our cook and much more. Come to my room, and you can clean up and change.”

Mariah followed her, unable to stem her curiosity as they passed a small bedroom with the door open. Her heart thudded. Adam McFarland lay sprawled out with his good arm over his forehead and his feet hanging off the end of the bed. Quickly she averted her eyes but was happy to know that he was finally resting. She would forever be grateful that he came to her defense.

She followed her hostess into a whitewashed room with a colorful quilt and curtains on the lone window. A small wardrobe sat in one corner and a chair in the other. “This is my room. Please make yourself at home. Once Leyna has the guest room ready, we’ll move you in there.”

Mariah hesitated, not wanting to impose, even though Anna’s smile was warm and hospitable.

“There’s fresh water in the pitcher, and the towel is clean. Do you have something to change into, or do you need your trunk?”

“I have a dress in my satchel.” She omitted mentioning that it was most likely full of wrinkles by now.

“I’ll step out while you refresh yourself. Come on back to the parlor when you’re finished.” Anna stopped at the door and turned. “You were traveling somewhere when all this happened. Are there people who will be expecting you, wondering what happened?”

“I telegraphed my grandmother from Medora to let her know I would be here for a few days.”

“Good. At least she won’t worry. I’d love if you could stay awhile. We don’t get many visitors, especially women near my age.”

Mariah wondered how to respond. Should she reveal her true identity to this kind girl?

Something made her hesitate. Maybe tomorrow would be soon enough. “Thank you, Miss McFarland. I’d love to stay and visit with you, if I’m not imposing.”

The young woman grinned. “You’re not, and call me Anna. We’re not too formal out here.”

“And you must call me Mariah.”

Anna nodded. “That’s such a pretty name.” She closed the door before Mariah could respond. She mostly despised her odd name and had never thought of it as pretty.

She set her satchel on the bed and opened it. The robber’s loot bag stared up at her. How could she have forgotten to return Mr. McFarland’s watch and money?

“How long did the doc say for you to rest up?” Quinn lounged against Adam’s doorframe.

“A day or two.”

Quinn lifted a brow.

“All right, he said several days, but I feel fine now that I’ve had a good night’s rest.”

“Good enough to bust broncs?”

Adam blinked. “Well, no, but I can pull my own weight.”

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes.”

Adam didn’t like how Quinn deftly ignored what he said or the fact that he needed his brother’s help to get his pants on. “We can leave off the shirt. Leyna said she’d be back in a few minutes to change the dressing.”

Quinn stood after helping Adam into his boots. “I don’t want to see you outside until the end of the week. If you rest up now, you’ll recover quicker and can get back to work sooner.”

Not waiting for a response, Quinn hurried out of the room. Adam laid his head back against the chair, taking a moment to catch his breath. He’d never take good health for granted again.

His gaze landed on the small desk along the opposite wall. His siblings didn’t know it, but under the roll top rested his drawing supplies. After not drawing for years, the urge to sketch became more than he could resist. Adam flexed the fingers of his right hand, wincing at the burning sting it caused in his upper arm. Could he still draw, even with a gunshot wound?

His looming deadline dangled before him like a hangman’s noose. He’d finally been given the chance he’d dreamed about for so long, and he wasn’t about to give up now. If he rested his arm a few days, maybe he could draw again.

And then there was the missing money. He needed to tell Quinn about that but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not yet. The matching Percheron pair he’d sold in Bismarck had brought good money. He’d purchased supplies and still had a wad of cash left over. So where was it now?

Anna walked into his room without knocking. Adam shook his head. His sister was sweet, but in spite of his mother’s efforts to make her a lady, Anna often surprised him with her brazenness.

“Leyna is busy with breakfast, so I’m going to play doctor.” Her smile warmed him. Anna had done her fair share of tending wounds, so he allowed her to remove his bandage, grimacing as it pulled loose. She gasped. “Oh, Adam. That looks dreadful. Does is hurt much?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m sure it does. The bullet went clear through. I’ll be careful and try not to hurt you more.”

Grateful that she ignored his crabbiness, he kept quiet and concentrated on the hillside view out the window while she cleaned and rebandaged his wound. She helped him into a fresh shirt and put his arm back in the sling. Adam brushed her hand away as she reached for the buttons. “I’m not a baby. I can still button my own shirt.”

“Perhaps you’re not a baby, but you sure are a grumbly ol’ bear.” She stuck her tongue out at him, making him grin.

He formed a claw with his fingers and swiped at her. “Grr.” She giggled as she fled the room.

At noon, Adam sat at the dinner table with Anna and Mariah. He’d eaten breakfast earlier then made it back to his room and had fallen asleep again. He was determined to eat well and regain his strength as quickly as possible, even though eating with his left hand was a challenge he hadn’t anticipated. Quinn hadn’t said anything about him shirking his duties, but he knew the other men would have more work with him laid up.

Leyna set a steaming pot of
knoephle
on the table. His mouth watered at the thought of the chicken-flavored soup with potatoes, carrots, and little dumplings. From the breadbasket, he snagged a slice of
Bauernbrot
, Leyna’s delicious sourdough bread.

“This looks great, Leyna. I missed your cooking while I was in Bismarck.”

She beamed at him and patted his shoulder. “Leyna’s knoephle will make you feel better.”

“It smells delicious.” Miss Lansing smiled at Leyna then glanced at him.

Adam stared back until she looked away. A week—at least. Anna had gone and invited her to stay a whole week. Why did she have to go and do that? Didn’t Fancy Feathers have people somewhere wondering what had become of her? There was nothing extraordinary about her light brown hair, but her eyes as dark as coffee intrigued him. And the things she did with that appealing mouth…

He shook those thoughts from his head and waited for someone to dish up his soup. Testing his arm, he clenched his fist, wincing as pain radiated through his upper muscles. He pitied all the men he’d ever known that only had one arm or hand. Even the simplest tasks were difficult.

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