An Uninvited Bride on his Doorstep by Ava Winters

Chapter Three

Logan rode toward the house, holding the unconscious girl in front of him in the saddle. The feel of her, soft and warm in his arms, stirred feelings he’d never had before. He’d enjoyed the company of women only sparingly before, usually on very rare trips to O’Keefe’s Boarding House in town. He’d never courted a woman or even thought about marriage.

 

Why was he thinking about this now? Why did he feel a sudden need to protect and care for this strange girl fate had left in his hands? He pushed the thoughts from his head and focused on getting his passenger home where she could be cared for, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the feel of her skin on his body.

 

He set her on the couch in the parlor and quickly loosened her corset. He placed fresh linens over her, then went to the kitchen for a cup. He went outside and filled the cup with fresh water from the pump, shielding it from the rain with his body. Then he returned to the house and set the cup near her on the side table.

 

“For when you wake up,” he said. The girl didn’t respond. That made sense given she was unconscious. He shook his head. “That near miss with the lightning must have addled my head,” he explained. Why was he talking to her out loud? He checked her for injuries.

 

There were several minor bruises on her arms and legs and one of her ankles was badly swollen, but the most concerning injury was a massive welt on one side of her head that was covered in caked blood. He would need to send for Doctor Caraway as soon as possible.

 

The storm raged outside and every minute or so, there was another flash of lightning. The house remained warm and dry, and Logan silently thanked his father for leaving his sons such a well-built home. He took a few oak logs from the pile of firewood near the fireplace and soon had a healthy fire going.

 

He left for his bedroom and removed his riding boots. His feet ached and he spent several moments curling and uncurling his toes until the tingling subsided. Once he felt more comfortable, he stood and finished changing. He brought his rain-soaked clothes to the parlor and left them hanging in front of the fireplace to dry, then sat on a chair near the fireplace.

 

He worried about the herd, about his brothers, Darrell, and the other hands. He’d left them to finish driving the herd so he could get the strange girl to safety as soon as possible. Each flash of lightning brought his own close call vividly to the forefront. He could only pray their luck would hold and they would reach safety before nature decided to turn its wrath toward them.

 

Sitting still did nothing to ease his worry so he got up after a moment and put the kettle on to boil. He went to the kitchen, grabbed another mug, and shook in a few of the tea leaves he’d received as a gift from a wealthy rancher he’d sold riding horses to a year back. He preferred coffee to tea, but tea had a calming effect he valued when he was anxious about something. Heaven knew he had something to be anxious about now.

 

When the kettle began to boil, he took it off the fire and poured some of the steaming liquid into his mug. He allowed the tea to steep for several minutes before sipping. The hot liquid did indeed relax him, and he felt his worry begin to subside.

 

A moment later, he heard knocking at the door. Darrell waited outside. “I am so glad to see you,” Logan said. “Come inside.”

 

When the door closed behind Darrell, Logan asked, “Herd make it in okay?”

 

Darrell nodded. “They’re moving them into the corral now. We’ll have to wait until the storm passes to get a count and see if we lost any.”

 

“Be nice if we lost all of them,” Logan grumbled.

 

Darrell smiled wryly but didn’t respond. He glanced at the girl on the couch. “She wake up at all?”

 

Logan shook his head. “Her pulse is strong and her breathing’s steady, but she hasn’t woken up yet.”

 

Darrell nodded. The worry in the older man’s face was clear as day and Logan felt his own anxiety return. “We should send for Doctor Caraway.”

 

“I’ll go,” Darrell volunteered. “Better you stay in case she wakes up.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand over his grizzled cheeks. “You’re a sight more gentle on the eyes than I am.”

 

Logan laughed. “Why Darrell, that’s sweet of you to say. For what it’s worth, I think you’re a fine figure for an old man.”

 

Darrell rolled his eyes. “It’s a shame you inherited your father’s sense of humor.” He headed for the door and opened it. He paused for a moment and scanned the clouds. “Storm’s moving on. Should clear up in a short while. I’ll get Doctor Caraway here quick as I can.”

 

“Much obliged for your help, Darrell.”

 

Darrell tipped his hat to Logan and left.

 

Logan returned to the sleeping figure on his couch. He sat in the chair across from the couch and regarded her. The light flickered across her oval-shaped face, casting shadows that accentuated her soft cheeks, petite nose, and the curve of her jawline. Her dusty brown hair fell in soft curls down nearly to her waist. In the firelight, it appeared to shine a bright auburn color.

 

Logan’s gaze traveled down her slender shoulders to her shapely hips, lingering on her elegantly proportioned bustline for a long moment until embarrassment finally overwhelmed him and he looked away, somewhat red-faced. He felt a little guilty for looking so frankly at her. He’d just never been close to someone so beautiful!

 

Who was this girl? He’d never been so affected by a woman before. None of the girls he’d seen even remotely inspired the same level of interest he had in this stranger before him. It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t even know her name. She didn’t even know he existed. He felt warmth travel up his neck, inflaming his face, and he was grateful she wasn’t awake to see the awkwardness she inspired in him.

 

“Who on earth might you be?” he asked softly. He lifted his mug to his mouth and found it empty, so he put the kettle on to boil again and went to the kitchen for some more tea leaves.

 

He waited by the fire, sipping his tea and trying but failing to avoid thinking about the beauty of the creature across from him. He still sat there when the door knocker sounded again. He opened it and Darrell walked in, followed by a white-haired older man with kindly eyes. He smiled at Logan, “Good afternoon, Logan. Darrell tells me you had some trouble in the storm.”

 

“I didn’t but it looks like she did,” Logan said, gesturing to the girl.

 

Dr. Caraway nodded. “Well, let’s take a look and see what we can find.” He walked to the couch and stopped. “Lord have mercy,” he muttered under his breath.”

 

“What is it, doc?” Logan asked.

 

“Where did you find her?” Caraway asked.

 

“Out in the west pasture, near to town,” Logan replied. “Figure she lost her way in the prairie grass and got caught in the storm.”

 

Caraway nodded and approached the unconscious woman. He set his bag on the small table next to the couch and retrieved a stethoscope. He knelt over her and gently pressed the dial on her chest. When he’d satisfied himself that her heartbeat was strong and her breathing normal, he put his stethoscope away and began examining her injuries. He ran his fingers gently over her head, stopping when he reached a swollen bruise just behind her left ear.

 

“Hmmm,” he said, gently probing the bruise.

 

Logan resisted the urge to ask what the doctor was doing. He wanted Caraway to be able to focus on his patient without distraction. He wondered that he should feel so much concern for someone he didn’t know.

 

“It’s amazing what beauty inspires in a man,” Darrell said.

 

Logan turned to him and shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess she’s alright. I hadn’t noticed.”

 

Darrell laughed softly. “If you say so.”

 

Logan’s face flushed but he didn’t argue with Darrell. Dr. Caraway continued to examine the girl, probing for further injuries. He stopped at her right ankle and frowned. “Hmmm,” he said again.

 

Logan noticed then that the girl’s ankle was swollen nearly twice the size of the other one. Caraway gently prodded at the bruise, looking for a break. Finally, he nodded and reached into his bag.

 

Logan couldn’t wait any longer. “Will she be all right, doc?”

 

“More than likely,” Caraway said. “But we have to be careful with her.”

 

He retrieved two small wooden planks and a roll of cotton fabric from his bag. Logan watched as he held the girl’s leg still and positioned the planks on either side of the swollen ankle. He turned to Logan. “Will you hold these still for me, please?”

 

Logan gently took the girl’s leg in his hands and held the planks still on either side of her ankle. He felt a thrill as his fingertips brushed her skin. The absurdity of his reaction wasn’t lost on him, and he flushed once more. The knowing smile on Darrell’s face did little to ease his embarrassment.

 

Dr. Caraway quickly wrapped the fabric around her ankle, tightly securing the planks and rendering the ankle immobile. When he finished, he reached for one of the cushions and positioned it under her foot so her ankle was elevated. Then he carefully lifted her head. “Will you place a pillow under her head, please?” he asked Logan.

 

Logan took one of the other cushions and set it under her head. Caraway gently lowered her until she rested against the pillow. Then he stood and looked at Logan. “You said you found her near town?”

 

Logan nodded. “More or less. She was pretty deep in the west field but still within a mile or so of town. If you’re not used to the prairie, it’s real easy to get lost in the tall grass. I think she probably wandered off and got lost trying to find her way back to town.”

 

Caraway nodded. “Well, I’ll be sure to let her father know you helped her. He can be a difficult man and that wife of his is even worse.” He shook his head. “Hopefully they’ll understand you were only trying to help.”

 

Logan’s brow furrowed. Of course he was only trying to help! How could anyone see it differently? What should he have done, left her out there? Then another thought struck him. “You said you know her parents?”

 

“Of course,” Caraway said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Well, who is she?” Logan asked.

 

Caraway’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”

 

Logan felt irritation rise, but bit back a sharp retort and only shook his head.

 

Caraway looked at Darrell then back at Logan. “This young lady is Winona Ross. Daughter of Heath Ross.”

 

Logan’s eyes snapped open. Heath Ross of the Ross Ranch? That couldn’t be. What was Heath Ross’s daughter doing on his ranch? The Foley Ranch was nothing to sneeze at and Logan was fiercely proud of what he and his brothers had accomplished, but the Ross Ranch was on an entirely different level.

 

Nearly three times the size of Logan’s ranch with well over five times the number of horses, the Rosses were the premier breeders of workhorses in central Texas. There was more than enough land on their ranch for Winona to wander without getting lost in his. He could see now why Dr. Caraway was concerned.

 

“Her injuries are clearly accidental,” Caraway said, perhaps noticing the alarm on Logan’s face. “I, of course, will mention that without your timely intervention, Miss Winona would very likely not be with us right now. Heath is a hard man but he’s fair. Once he’s made aware of the circumstances, I’m sure he’ll understand.” He turned to Winona. “In any case, she’ll need to rest here regardless of his attitude on the subject.”

 

He turned back to Logan. “I’m not worried about the ankle. That will heal soon enough with time and rest. The head injury concerns me more. There’s no skull fracture but it’s badly bruised and I fear she’s suffered a serious concussion. She is to remain on strict bed rest—a week at least. I’ll be back then to check on her, but I want to know immediately if there’s any worsening of her condition.”

 

“When will she wake up?” Logan asked.

 

Caraway shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Depending on the severity of the injury, she may wake up in hours, or days, or … Well, let’s hope for the best. Her pulse and breathing are strong. That’s a very good sign.”

 

Caraway’s somewhat feeble attempt at reassurance failed to quell Logan’s growing worry. Hours, or days, or … ? Caraway hadn’t finished that thought, but Logan knew what was meant. He said a silent prayer that Winona Ross would recover soon, and this time he felt no embarrassment for his concern.

 

Caraway retrieved his bag and began walking toward the door. He opened it to reveal the storm had passed. The sky was still gray with clouds and a light rain that continued to fall, but the thunder and lightning were miles distant. He paused in the doorway and turned back to Logan. “I’ll tell Miss Winona’s parents she’s here,” he said, almost reluctantly. “They’ll want to see her right away, I’m sure. I’ll make sure they understand she is not to be moved. You boys take care now. I’ll see you soon.” He turned and left, Darrell following.

 

Logan returned to the chair across from the couch and sat down. His head reeled. Winona Ross! In his house! He wondered what his father would say. He felt anger, beginning as a kernel in the back of his mind and growing until it suffused him. Heath Ross was the reason Foley Ranch took so much longer to get off the ground than Heath’s own ranch.

 

Five years ago, Heath and his father had a partnership—one that Heath shamelessly broke, nearly bankrupting the Foleys while he lined his own pockets with enormous wealth.

 

Logan’s hands balled into fists. The attraction he felt for Winona only minutes earlier faded. This was the daughter of his father’s enemy. She was beautiful—stunning in fact, and Logan was sure she was innocent of his father’s transgressions. She was still Heath Ross’s daughter though and knowing that her presence here meant he must allow Heath into his home galled him.

 

She stirred and moaned softly, her brow furrowing slightly. Logan’s anger melted away, replaced by sympathy for the poor girl who’d lost her way and nearly died for it. Whatever his differences with Heath Ross, he would put them aside for Winona’s sake. She would be allowed to rest and recuperate without getting caught in the crossfire of an old family feud that had nothing to do with her. She would be allowed to recover, and Logan would be there to help her.

 

A moment later, Darrell returned. “Doc said we should move her to the bed so she’s more comfortable. You hold her under her shoulders, I’ll get her legs.”

 

As they moved her slowly and carefully to Logan’s bedroom, Logan stared down at her soft features and once more felt the strange stirring of emotion inside him.