She looked up at him. How was she supposed to keep hold of her senses when he looked at her with those startling eyes and that devilish grin? She wanted so badly to know more about him—and especially about whatever secret he was keeping. She’d buried herself in learning about anything else for the past two weeks to distract herself from all the questions that brimmed in her mind about Mr. King. Why, she’d even cornered some poor farmer for an hour one afternoon, when all he wanted to know was how far he was from Grand Platte.
Lara bit down harder on her lip to keep the questions from surfacing. Where had he come from? What had happened to his family? What had he done before arriving in Last Chance? Why did she feel both drawn to him and afraid of what went unsaid? Why did it seem as if he walked the edge of something entirely lawless and wild?
“Where did you receive medical training?” Something had to come out, and that seemed the most innocuous question to ask.
“I didn’t.” He pulled off a glove and ran a hand through his hair as she waited for him to continue.
When he said nothing, she pressed a bit more. “Then how did you know what to look for with Mrs. White’s wounds?”
He slapped the empty glove against his other hand. “My mother.”
“Your mother was a physician?” Lara couldn’t decide if she was more surprised or amazed.
“Oh, no.” Mr. King shook his head. “Although she could have been. She was talented beyond any measure with diagnosing and treating illnesses and injuries. Our little town didn’t have a doctor, and she was the closest thing to medical treatment most folks could get.”
Lara thought for a moment. It was far more impressive that his mother hadn’t been trained as a physician. “And she taught you?”
He shrugged. “My brother had more interest than I did, but I picked up a few things here and there.”
“Is he older or younger, your brother? Do you have any other siblings?” She couldn’t stop the questions now. They tumbled out like a waterfall from a mountain ledge.
Mr. King’s jaw twitched. He tugged on the glove. Whether or not he was going to answer, Lara didn’t know, as just at that moment Arlen arrived with the purse Isabel had asked for.
“Ready to get moving? We’ll still need to send for the doctor, and I want to get back to that water machine,” he said after reassuring Isabel that they would return later to gather up the broken wagon and everything left in it.
Mr. King nodded, and with a quick look back at Lara, he made his way to the front of the wagon.
“I’ll ride back here and keep her comfortable,” Lara said to her cousin, although her mind was still on Mr. King.
He consumed her every thought on the ride home. She hadn’t expected him to have a way with treating injuries. What else was there to uncover?
Chapter Eight
“No, Mr. Mitchell, you’resupposed to staybehindthe well till Dot faints.” Joseph planted his hands on his hips.
“I told you, I don’t want to faint. I want to fight!” Dot held up an imaginary gun and aimed it at the well that held only a little muddy water.
