The boy’s eyelids slipped closed as his head sank into the pillow. Cora tucked the blanket up to his chin, her gaze lingering on Ben’s swollen eye, lip, and bruised face. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” Her voice was barely more than a breath.
Ben’s gaze locked onto her. “I would do anything to protect you and Charlie.” His voice had thickened.
Goosebumps spread across her limbs. She’d been horrible to him for weeks. Too long. And he treated her like this? A well-spring of gratitude burst forth from her heart. Before she could think better of it, she reached across, grabbed Ben by the shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.
He startled.
Warmth cascaded through her.
She jerked away from him before she did something even more wanton, like kiss him on the mouth. Tumbling backward, she landed on her bottom. Would her legs even work anymore?
Ben gaped at her, his one good eye opened wide and his lips parted, one corner of his mouth still swollen and puffy.
What had she done?
Turning from him, she dove under her blankets, curled into a ball, and pulled the pillow over her head. Suggesting they sleep in the same room, then laying her hands on him and kissinghim? He’d be convinced she belonged in a saloon or worse. How could she ever show her face to him again?
CHAPTER 23
Cora! Ben couldn’t even swallow. He rocked from his heels and dropped his knees to the carpet.Cora. Every thought in his head scattered to kingdom come. Sparks exploded within, obliterating the cacophony of aches and pains. He scrubbed his hand over his face, but nothing could wipe away his smile. She’d kissed him. Probably out of gratitude. He’d best get his head straight, not read too much into it. But his heart was practically doing somersaults.
Charlie mumbled and rolled over. Ben placed his hand on the boy’s chest.Don’t wake up, please.
“Cora?” His voice dipped.
Her silken hair flayed behind her, she squeezed the pillow tighter to her head as if to block out even a hint of sound.
“Cora…” Did she really expect him to lie down and go to sleep after that without a word? He reached across the divide, his hand dangling in the air. A touch might spook her. He curled his fingers inward and withdrew.
Best keep his hands and his thoughts to himself before he scared Cora into the next county. He retreated to his side of the carpet and edged beneath his blankets one limb at a time, gritting out a couple of groans.
His heart beat like a drum as he pressed his cheek against the borrowed pillow. Cora’s pillow from her bed, scented with soap and rosewater. One deep inhale, and it was as if she, not the covered goose-feather fluff, was in his arms.
Across the carpet and on the other side of Charlie, she shifted around. Facing the wall, she burrowed deeper beneath the covers.
Regretting her action? Afraid of his reaction?
His breath roared in his ears. Just as well she had the pillow over her head. Otherwise, she might think he was having a heart attack. Where was a clear thought when he needed one? He’d never sleep if he didn’t say something.
Maybe it’d best if he acted as if the kiss hadn’t happened. He could address the real reason Cora wasn’t herself tonight. She was afraid. That’s why she was in here on the floor with him and Charlie. She needed to be comforted.
Thunder boomed. Lightning shown through tiny gaps in the chinking in the logs. The wind had blown up a storm.
Movement on the porch. His ears perked up. A rhythmicthump-thump. The rocking chair.
Cora squirmed within her burrow.
He projected his whisper. “It’s just the wind.”
She loosened her stranglehold on the pillow. Maybe she was awake.
“God will keep us safe. We don’t have to be afraid.”
She blew out a breath and rolled onto her back. “I’m not bothered by the storm.”
“The Comanche?”
Silence followed within the parlor except for Charlie’s breathing.
