The Tribute Read online

  Kincaid’s face suddenly appeared in front of him, his brows drawn together. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking. I was throwing the spare lumber off the roof, like I told you. Another six inches to the right and that board would’ve cut your head in half instead of just denting it. I don’t know how much damage it did since I’ve come to the conclusion that your head is as hard as the wood. Probably as hard as granite. You sure as hell bleed pretty good though.”

  Brett sucked in a much-needed breath. “Damn that hurts.”

  “I don’t doubt that. That blood pumping out of your shoulder and head sure do tell a story. You’re gonna need some stitches, boy.”

  Brett’s gaze refused to do anything but see a blurry world. “You’d better bandage me up. Use one of those rags. Then we can ride into town and have the doc take a look at me.”

  Without a whole lot of finesse, Kincaid wrapped Brett’s shoulder and tied it off, eliciting a groan Brett had been holding back through sheer force of will.

  “That hurt?” Kincaid surveyed his handiwork.

  “No, you idiot, it doesn’t hurt.”

  Kincaid then wrapped Brett’s head, a little bit more gently this time.

  “Well at least you can still be sarcastic. You sit right there and I’ll hitch up the horses. You do plan on taking the wagon, right?”

  The pain warred with the dizziness. Brett hated the fact that his injury forced him to ride in the back of a wagon, but he knew he had no choice. “Wagon.”

  Brett waited with his eyes closed, glad, extremely glad, that he’d offered Kincaid a job. Not only was he a good worker, but he was turning out to be a good friend.

  ———

  The last thing Alex expected to see when she opened the door was Kincaid supporting Brett. The entire left side of his body was covered in blood, his skin the color of milk, his gaze unfocused.

  “Inside now. Straight to the examining room. Second door on the left.” Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of Brett so pale and bloody. She had to put her personal feelings, good or bad, aside and concentrate on helping the patient.

  Kincaid helped Brett climb onto the examining table. There seemed to be copious amounts of blood. She wasn’t sure if he had one wound or a hundred.

  Kincaid frowned at Brett’s chalky pallor. “What can I do?”

  “Go the kitchen—it’s at the end of the hall. On the stove you’ll find a hot water reservoir. There’s an enamel pot right on the stove keeping warm. Ladle some water into the pan and bring it back to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kincaid left the room before she’d finished talking.

  She looked at Brett, whose coloring was not good. “Do you feel woozy?”

  “Alex,” he said. “You have the most beautiful brown eyes.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. Apparently loss of blood turned Brett into a romantic lady’s man.

  She held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “And your hands, your fingers are just so long, slender. Makes me want to lick them.”

  A jolt of energy flew through Alex, which had nothing to do with being a physician and everything to do with being a woman. Certainly an inopportune time for that to happen, particularly since she didn’t want to feel that way over Brett.

  Kincaid stepped back into the room with the water, his eyebrows up. “Did he just say he wanted to lick your fingers?”

  Alex blushed. “Yes he did. Ah, but we’re going to work on making sure he’s okay. What happened?”

  As Kincaid explained how Brett had been injured, Alex unwrapped the rag bandages, wincing at the sight of so much of Brett’s blood.

  “You did a good job with him, Mr. Kincaid. You not only bandaged it well, but it’s a wonderful tourniquet on his arm. We need to get the bleeding stopped.”

  Alex took a deep breath and concentrated on helping a patient. She had to focus, it was the only way she could forget the fact that Brett lay bleeding on her table and avoid running from the room.

  “I’m going to have to clean out the wounds and take out any debris that’s left before I can stitch them. I’ll be administering laudanum for the pain, although it seems to me he’s out of his mind anyway. Probably from loss of blood.”

  Kincaid nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I’d like to give him a little water to wash the laudanum down. Would you get a glass from the kitchen please? Oh, and bring a spoon.”

  He was off again, confirming Alex’s opinion that Kincaid wasn’t a coldhearted gunslinger, otherwise he would have left Brett to die. Instead he chose to bring him in for treatment, and serve as her temporary nurse.

  When Kincaid returned with the water, she carefully poured the exact dose of the drug into the glass and stirred it until it was mixed. She dribbled some of the concoction into Brett’s mouth. His wandering gaze suddenly focused on her.

  “That doesn’t taste very good.”

  “Yes, but it will make you feel better. Just a little bit, Brett. Come on, open up.”

  He halfheartedly tried to push her away. “I know what that is and I don’t want it.”

  “Sometimes in life we have to do what we don’t want to do.” She supported his head as he swallowed a small bit of water. “You’ll feel better if you drink more of the water.”

  “For a doctor you sure are pushy.”

  Alex smiled. “Better me to be pushy than you be in pain.”

  Like a good patient, Brett swallowed the rest of the water, making a face the entire time. After he finished, she set the glass on the instrument table.

  “Alex…”

  “Yes, Brett?”

  “I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you again.”

  Her cheeks burned a bit, and she hoped Kincaid hadn’t noticed. “Shut up, Brett. Now just relax.”

  She caressed his brow until his eyes closed. Then she got to work.

  As she began cleaning the wounds, she found bits of dirt, leaves and quite a few splinters. He must have been in agony. One splinter had to be two inches long. Kincaid stayed through it all. She was even pleased to note that he washed his hands when she did. Sterilizing the environment was incredibly important to her.

  She tended the head wound first, making sure there wasn’t any additional trauma. One gash bled profusely. With Kincaid’s assistance, she shaved just enough of Brett’s soft brown hair to stitch the wound closed. She rinsed the blood from the rest of his hair, making sure he had no other wounds. After applying a clean bandage, she set to work on the rest of him.

  Although it wouldn’t be a pretty scar on his shoulder, she made the stitches as small as she could. No doubt with Brett’s healing power, he’d be back using his arm within a week or two. She wrapped the bandage around his shoulder, glad to note the wound was on his right arm. Since he was left-handed, he’d at least have use of his master hand.

  As she cleaned up the bloody towels and water, Kincaid assisted without her even asking.

  “You should be careful, Mr. Kincaid, someone might get the impression that you’re kind or that you care about other people.”

  He looked a little startled. “I certainly don’t want that to happen.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for helping Brett.”

  “Wasn’t a problem, Doc. He’s good folk.”

  “The Malloys certainly are.” No need to go into her own opinion of Brett.

  “And I didn’t hear anything about wanting to kiss you,” Kincaid teased.

  “You’d better be careful or you’ll be labeled a charmer.” She laughed.

  His face wiped clean of any emotion. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

  Unsure of what she’d said to offend him, Alex decided to change the subject as quickly as she could. “He’ll probably be asleep for a few hours. I won’t know the extent of any head trauma until he wakes up. I’m afraid he’ll have to stay here for at least two days.” Not exactly who she wanted to keep company with. “It’s pretty c
lose to suppertime, why don’t you go down to the restaurant and get yourself something to eat.”

  “Only if I can bring something back for you.”

  “No, I’m all right. I’ve got food here. Don’t worry about me.”

  “All right. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Thank you again for your help, Mr. Kincaid. I truly, truly appreciate it.”

  She meant that. Without him, Brett surely would have bled to death before he reached her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  The dark-eyed man left her alone with Brett, who was sleeping peacefully on the examining table. He was still a bit pale. Alex had no idea how much blood he’d lost, but it was enough to sap his body of its natural golden complexion.

  Alex got a blanket out of the linen closet and covered him from shoulder to foot. Once the laudanum wore off, he’d likely be cold. Seemingly of their own volition, her hands crept to his soft, wavy brown hair, careful to avoid his wound. It was like silk sliding through her fingers. She should be embarrassed about touching him when he wasn’t awake, but it was as if something had a hold of her. She clenched her hand and backed away. Damn Brett Malloy for coming back into her life.

  It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was a good one. Now he had to muddy the waters again. She’d successfully avoided him for years and now she’d seen him twice in one week. Not only that, but she had to treat him, keep touching him. Torture. Goddamn torture.

  If there was any mercy in the world, she’d only have to endure it for two days.

  ———

  Brett woke up slowly as if he swam in a sea of confusion, a sticky world of sounds, pain and fear. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. His eyelids, heavier than lead weights, refused to work.

  “Brett?”

  He heard Alex’s voice. Again he tried unsuccessfully to speak. “Uhhhhh.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk. I gave you something for the pain. It’s wearing off. Take your time and don’t force it. Do you know where you are? Nod your head if you do.”

  He nodded slightly and those bells clanged in his head. Mustn’t do that again.

  “You’re in the examining room in the clinic. Mr. Kincaid brought you in with head and shoulder wounds, apparently from a piece of falling wood, which cut you up quite a bit. I’ve cleaned the wounds and sutured them. They look good and I think you will heal well.”

  Normally Brett would have protested against any woman taking care of him instead of the other way around. God knows he’d fought against his mother’s fussing most of his life. When Alex said it, suddenly his apprehension, discomfort and downright fear dissipated.

  “Wife.”

  He handed himself over to her care and slipped back into grayness.

  Wife?

  What in tarnation did that mean? Alex stared at the unconscious Brett for a bit before stepping back. Madness, that’s what it was. The injury had knocked his brain loose.

  Wife indeed.

  Not in this lifetime. He’d made his choice and they both had to live with it. She wasn’t about to relive that pain all over again. Nothing doing.

  ———

  Brett woke again, this time with a much clearer head, but an enormous headache that seemed to reverberate all the way to his toes. He opened his eyes and realized he was lying on the examining table in Alex’s clinic. He caught a whiff of her unique scent and knew she was nearby.

  “Alex?” It came out as more of a croak, but at least it was a noise.

  She appeared beside him almost instantly, a sleep crease in her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  “Awful.”

  A furry head popped up beside her. That funny-looking dog that followed her around. What was his name again? Ug. That was it.

  “I don’t doubt it. You have a nasty wound on your head. Do you have any nausea or dizziness?”

  Her cool hands felt his brow, then opened his eyes a bit wider. As she peered into them, he felt himself drowning in the depths of her gaze. Falling deeper, faster than he’d ever been. As his control slipped, he tried to grab onto it. He cleared his throat and the moment snapped. When she took her hands off him, he breathed a little easier.

  “I’m a bit dizzy but my stomach feels fine.” Though he had a feeling if he stood up he’d lose his breakfast.

  “I was afraid of that. I think you have a concussion. You’re going to need to stay here for a couple of days.” She frowned, her eyebrows making an angry blonde V.

  “No need to worry. I can go back home. Kincaid—”

  She cut through the air with her hand, silencing him.

  “I’m speaking as your doctor, Brett. Believe me, the last person I want in this clinic for two days is you.” She walked over to the counter, tossing that remark over her shoulder.

  “What does that mean?”

  When she turned back, Alex’s face had flushed a sweet shade of pink. “You know exactly what it means, Brett Malloy.”

  “Aw, Alex, you can’t still be mad about—”

  She waved her hand again and yelled, “Stop.”

  Brett winced and closed his eyes. Ug licked his left hand and uttered a small whine.

  “Sorry about the shout. I’m not about to hear any gibberish from you about how I should feel. You had that chance and you threw it away.” She hastily opened another blanket and threw it on top of him. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Try to sleep.”

  With a bang of the door, Alex left him alone with the dog. Ug laid his paw on the cot and gazed at him with doggie understanding. Brett had been hoping she’d let bygones be bygones, but obviously not. Brett sighed. Now he’d really have to woo her.

  Dammit.

  ———

  Bright sunlight filtered through Alex’s window when she woke, groggy and irritable. Being stuck with Brett’s company had turned her mood from chipper to foul. Then for him to tell her she couldn’t still be mad…

  Nothing doing. That was not going to happen. She had every right to be angry. Brett had made a choice that cost them their future together and she’d never forgive him for it. After she’d given everything to him, her heart, her soul, her body, he simply drifted away with no excuses or apologies. Just a letter that said, “I don’t think we suit for marriage. I wish you luck. Brett.” The very thought of that letter made her angry and sad at the same time. Her eyes tried to squeeze out a tear, but she refused to allow it to happen.

  She’d cried oceans of tears over him. Never again.

  After a quick wash and some clean clothes, Alex peeked into her father’s room. He snored, tucked down into the covers. Hopefully he’d keep on sleeping and not add to her already high stress level. She headed downstairs as a knock sounded on the front door.

  When she opened the door, Kincaid whipped off his hat.

  “Morning, Doc.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Kincaid.” She gestured for him to come in. “Brett woke up a couple of times last night. He’s okay but he has a concussion and he’s going to have to stay here for a couple of days.”

  Kincaid’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t sound too happy about that. As near as I could tell you and him were…together.”

  Alex snorted so hard, she started coughing. Kincaid slapped her on the back and after a few moments, she was able to breathe again.

  “I don’t know what he’s told you, but Brett and I haven’t been together in twelve years. He ended it.” Alex would have to question Brett on exactly what he was telling people and why.

  “Really? So does that mean you’ll have dinner with me?” Kincaid flashed a cocky grin.

  “No, but thank you for asking.”

  He smiled. “No harm in asking. You’re one fine-looking woman, Doc. A man would count himself lucky to have a gal like you.”

  Unbelievably, Alex felt her cheeks heat. “Thank you, Mr. Kincaid. Uh, would you like to see Brett?”

  “Sure thing. I brought his horse by just in case. Left it at the livery with W
ill.” Kincaid’s boots thunked on the wood floor as he walked toward the examining room.

  Alex looked in and saw Brett awake, staring at the ceiling. No doubt thinking of inventive ways to make her life more difficult.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk and go get the coffee on.”

  “Much obliged, Doc.” Kincaid nodded and entered the examining room.

  Alex proceeded to the kitchen, telling herself she wasn’t running from Brett, but merely tending to her guest’s needs.

  “You’re alive at least.”

  Brett glanced at Kincaid as he stepped toward him. He’d spent a hard night, alternating between a throbbing shoulder and an aching head. He scratched at the stitches beneath the bandage that decorated his right shoulder.

  “You know you probably shouldn’t be scratching at those.”

  He glared at Kincaid with a frown. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’ve got Alex for that.”

  “From what she tells me, she isn’t your gal anymore.” Kincaid grinned. “It’s gonna be right interesting to watch you and Doc together. Especially since you told her she was so beautiful.”

  Brett’s breath caught. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well…while you laid on that table bleeding like a stuck pig, you were telling the doc how you thought she was beautiful and that you always wanted to kiss her. And there was something about licking her fingers.”

  “I did no such thing,” Brett protested loudly. His head repeated the protest.

  Kincaid chuckled with evil glee. “Oh, yes you did. I was there. I heard all of it.”

  Brett threw a tongue depressor at Kincaid. It bounced off his chest, which just made Kincaid laugh harder.

  “I did not tell Alex Brighton that she was beautiful.”

  “Okay, don’t believe me. Ask her. Ask her what you said when you were out of your head. When folks are out of their head, that’s when they’re the most honest.”

  Brett’s heart pounded. Did he really say those things to Alex? He didn’t remember anything like that. In fact, the last thing he remembered clearly was climbing in the wagon and heading for town. After that he remembered waking up in the examining room, just a hazy memory of Alex’s voice and her touch.