He climbed onto the bed and leaned over the end. Anxiety furrowed his brow and flattened his lips as he assessed her, then the bloodied area of her arm. By the anger that sparked in his eyes, Lawson would have a reckoning once this was over. If only she could cup Abraham’s cheek and assure him she’d be okay. Although, releasing the pressure and allowing the blood to flow freely just so she could touch him probably wouldn’t alleviate his fear.
After evaluating the situation, Abraham spoke. “I’m going to unlock the one attached to the bed first. Then, once we get you out of that hole, I’ll remove the other one.”
He slipped his arms between the bars and twisted the key in the keyhole. The cuff released, and Lydia stiffened her arm to slow its drop. The resulting pangs brought tears to her eyes, and a whimper she’d tried to hold back escaped.
Abraham’s thumb brushed at an escaped tear. “I’m sorry. Just a bit more, and then you can be still until a doctor arrives.”
As long as being still meant he was holding her in his arms, she’d endure whatever movements necessary to get there.
“Can you turn and get your legs out from beneath the bed? I need to move it away from you and the door.”
With a whole lot of scrunching her face as if that might ease the throbbing, she twisted until her feet no longer stretched beneath the bed. Her arm screamed, and each breath came with a gasp that threatened to turn into a sob. She tried to focus on Abraham’s comical half-singed hair and handsome—albeit bruised—face, but they weren’t enough of a diversion. “Talk to me. Please. Distract me.”
He climbed off the bed and repositioned himself to pull it away. “What do you want me to say?”
She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes against the radiating pain. “Anything. Nursery rhymes. Stupid jokes. Math problems, for all I care.” A moan slipped out as her arm jostled with the bed’s movement.
Metal scraping against the wooden floor interspersed his words. “Two plus two is four. Four plus four is eight. Eight plus eight is—”
She laughed even as her arm chastised her. She hadn’t meant him to take her so literally.
His shadow fell over her, and she sensed him lowering himself next to her. “What? Would you prefer something more along the lines of ‘I think you are the bravest and smartest woman I know’? Or that I’m going to thoroughly knock you off your feet the first chance I get?”
“Better.”
His chuckle was strained as he held her hand still while he removed the other handcuff.
The force applied by his twisting of the key made her jolt upright and cry out.
“I’m sorry, but it’s off now.” He released her hand. “Don’t try to stand or move. The last thing we want is for your heart to pump blood faster.”
What happened to his talk of thoroughly knocking her off her feet? Surely that was better than reminding her of her injury.
Pounding feet entered the kitchen, and the announcement of the police’s arrival prevented any more talk. Abraham directed one officer to send for Papa, another to contend with Detective Lawson, and a third to find something in the store below to dress the wounds. A fourth officer confirmed that the Deer Creek Gang had dispersed after Mr. Clemens delivered a prize-winning blow. The only blood in the streets would be pugilist blood. Relief relaxed Abraham’s stance even as he warned the dispersing officers to stay vigilant against attack. If her head weren’t swirling with dizziness and nausea, she might have been tempted to pull a fictional swoon.
Abraham knelt next to her again and put his hand over hers, increasing the pressure on the wound. It was probably wise and more successful at slowing the bleeding, but the resulting sting made her breathe rapidly. Maybe she would swoon after all.
“Lydia, look at me. In.” He inhaled slowly. “Out.”
With great difficulty, she focused on his delectable gaze, which comforted better than the cookies she now associated with him. Good heavens he was handsome. God better plan for them to be together, or she was in trouble. From now to evermore, Abraham Hall would be the only man for her. By the way his eyes caressed her face, he felt the same.
When her breathing matched his, Abraham said, “I never thought I’d care so much for a woman so quickly. I don’t want to wait any longer to—”
From the other side of the room, Mr. Ingram yelled curses at the officer who’d released him. Abraham jumped to his feet, pivoted, and reached for his holstered gun in one fluid motion.
No. No. No!She was shot. He was doctoring her and showering her with words that promised sweet romance. She hadn’t just lived through both a mystery and a romance novel just to have the happily-ever-after ripped away from her. If it didn’t hurt to move so much, she’d reach out and draw Abraham back to her. He didn’t want to wait any longer for what? To kiss her? That definitely would suffice as a pleasant distraction. And wasn’t that how every good story was supposed to end?
If Mr. Ingram stole this from her, she might … might … Well, she’d dosomethingmean and awful. She just needed her arm to stop hurting enough to think of what.
Mr. Ingram strode toward them, jabbing a finger in her direction. “This is your fault. I ought to—”
“Careful, Ingram. Threatening the woman could get you in trouble.” The deadly calm tone of Abraham’s words would give anyone pause.
“She’s the one who needs to be arrested. She helped him plan my death.”
“To stall for time!” Her shrillness hurt her own ears, but she couldn’t let that accusation go. “Should I have allowed him to act on his first thought and kill you right then and there? You would have been dead hours ago.”
Anger flushed his face, but he had the wherewithal to keep the rest of the thoughts rolling through his head to himself. But it didn’t stop him from taking another intimidating step forward.
