“Yessir.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his neck. “Boss…Hank said something earlier. Is it true you got hitched?”
Cody shot Hank a glare.
The man looked back with a wide grin. “Lucky for you, I didn’t tell them what I thought when I walked into your house this morning.”
The twins leaned forward, eyes wide.
Heat crept up Cody’s neck. He had no intention of rehashing that little misunderstanding. “Yeah, boys, I got married. Did it for my kids. They needed a mama.”
Joey whistled low. “Never thought I’d see the day you married. Especially after what Miss Liza did to you.”
Something revolted in the vicinity of Cody’s heart. Not a subject he cared to dwell on. “Yeah, well, it is what it is. I’m a married man, and I need to get home to my wife and kids.”
How was it possible for a statement to feel so strange and so right at the same time? Cody thought on it as he rode home and rubbed down his horse in the barn. That he no longer had to live in the house by himself was less lonely. But he wasn’t so sure he’d be good at the whole husband and father thing. Giving Preston a final pat along with a sugar cube, Cody squared his shoulders and headed for the house.
The aroma of savory meat and stewed vegetables tickled his nose as soon as he opened the door. His mouth watered. A moment later, he detected a hint of something acrid. Someone yelped in pain. Cody bolted toward the sound, his hat dropping to the floor.
A muffled whimper came from the kitchen. He burst inside, then drew to an abrupt halt. Ella stood by the oven with her right hand cradled to her chest. She had her left hand pressed over her mouth, though it couldn’t hide another strangled cry. It took him three seconds to assess the situation. The oven door stood open, a tray of biscuits hanging almost halfway out. No towel lay on the floor by Ella’s feet.
She’d burned herself trying to take the tray out with her bare hands.
He was at her side in five long strides. Ella jumped when she saw him. Tears made her green eyes appear even bigger than they were. Cody rescued the biscuits and shut the oven door. He put a firm arm around Ella’s shoulders and steered her toward a pitcher of water. With one hand, he grabbed the handle. His other reached for the arm she cradled close to her chest.
“Give me your hand.”
She did so without argument. Cody guided it into the pitcher, making sure her hand was submerged. He chanced a glance at his wife. Her throat worked, and she sniffed several times in a row. She looked at the floor. “I could smell the biscuits burning. My only thought was to get them out fast. I forgot to use something to protect my hand.”
Her voice was quiet. Tight. Cody hated that she sounded so small, as though she expected a reprimand. Words poured out of him. “When I brought Cassie home from the orphanage, I wanted to make her a special welcome dinner. Never mind the fact that I knew nothing about cooking. I tried making biscuits that evening.” He chuckled under his breath. “It didn’t go well. I also forgot to use something to protect my hands, and I burned them so badly, Cassie had to take me to the infirmary in town. Not exactly the best welcome for my little sister.”
Ella stood stock still beside him, though her gaze traveled up to his as he spoke.
He leaned closer as he put the pitcher back on the table. “Things like that happen, Ella. And it’s okay. We live and we learn.” When had his voice turned so gravelly?
She drew in an unsteady breath. “You’re not…upset with me?”
He shook his head, trying to control the anger that sprang up at whoever had scarred her. “As I said, these things happen.” He guided her to the table. “Sit.”
Hang it all. He’d gone from gravelly to gruff. To his surprise, Ella didn’t flinch. She simply sat in the chair, water dripping from her hand onto her skirt. He fetched a towel and pressed it against her wound. “Dry your hand. Gently.”
She did, her gaze following him as he opened a cabinet and brought out a small basket. He walked back and took the seat next to her, then selected a jar from the basket. “Let me see your hand again.”
Ella held it out, the tiniest bit of hesitation in the motion. Cody took it gently in his. Her smooth, soft skin brushed against his callused hand. Dipping the fingers of his other hand in the jar, he began smoothing the ointment over her burned fingers.
She studied his movements. “Is that honey?”
He nodded. “My ma always said honey could cure a burn better than anything a doctor had. She kept a jar full at all times. I picked up the tradition when I had a home of my own.” Cody gave her fingers a final swipe, then rummaged through the basket for the small white bandages inside. “It looks like only three of your fingers are burnt, along with a bit of your upper palm. I’ll wrap the fingers individually so you have use of them.”
Ella watched him. He had finished wrapping her fingers and turned his attention to her palm when she finally spoke. “You have memories of your parents?”
He stilled. “I do. They died when I was ten, so my memories are well formed. Cassie was only five. She barely remembers them at all.”
“May I ask what happened to them?” Ella’s voice was barely a whisper.
Cody swallowed hard. He didn’t like remembering the accident, but if he wanted his wife to trust him, he needed to share things with her. “We were in a wagon, riding west to claim land. My pa wanted a ranch of his own, and the government was giving out land almost for free, so long as a family could care for the land and make it profitable.”
“The Homestead Act.”
Surprised, he nodded. “You know about that?”
