“Stand. When I do my knees feel like this water, and won’t hold me.”
Rusty handed her the towel. “Keep that out of the water.” Then he moved behind her, slid his hands under her arms, and lifted. Aware that he was able to stare at her bare bottom, Rachel quickly wrapped the towel around her, wincing as her muscles cried in protest from the movement.
“All set?” Rusty’s voice sounded strained.
“Yes.”
***
Rusty steadied Rachel as she climbed from the tub, the towel wrapped firmly around her body. The body he had just gotten a fine glimpse of. Her bottom was rounded and plump, the perfect place for a man to hold onto as he rode her. Since he was several inches taller, he’d also gotten a look at her breasts, firm and high. With fingertip bruises on her delicate flesh where the monsters who tried to rape her had put their filthy hands.
He pulled his thoughts back to where they should have been. Not on her beautiful body, but on the fact that she’d almost been raped not more than a couple of hours ago. Rachel had suffered fear, indignities, injuries—and here he was, ogling her coming out of the bathtub.
Rein it in, buddy. She needs strength and security right now, not some randy cowboy hoping to get what those bastards tried to take from her by force.
Rachel stood shivering, seeming uncertain what to do next. “Honey, why don’t you sit here on this chair, finish drying yourself off, and then put on this shirt? I’ll wait for you in the parlor.”
She nodded, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. God, how she affected him. He was torn between finding those bastards and finishing them off, or holding her in his arms. No doubt she needed holding more than anything else right now.
Shoving his hands into his back pockets, he wandered to the window. There were still lights on in the bunkhouse, but it appeared the wagon had been unloaded and put away for the night. Most likely the men were engaged in a late night card game. In the window, he saw the reflection of Rachel as she padded into the room.
He turned, his heart filling as he took in his shirt that hung down almost to her knees. She looked so lost, so vulnerable. He walked to her and held out his hand. “Come here, honey.”
Like an obedient child, she took his hand. The bruise on her face had turned an ugly black and blue. How he wished he had finished off the men who dared to put their hands on her. “I’ll get you a cold cloth to put on your eye. It might help the swelling.”
“All right.”
“I also have some pain powder I can mix up for you. The doc gave it to me when I bruised my ribs last year after getting stomped on by an ornery horse.”
“Oh, that must have hurt.”
“Yeah, it did at that.” He led her to the sofa and sat her down, placing a pillow behind her. “I’ll be right back.”
He fished out the powder and mixed it up. Then he pulled a clean cloth from a drawer and soaked it in cold water. When he entered the parlor, Rachel sat at the end of the sofa, her knees drawn up, the shirt pulled down to her toes. She looked no older than Amelia, and just as scared.
After drinking the pain medication and placing the cloth over her face, Rachel leaned back and yawned. “I’m so tired.”
Without a word, Rusty scooped her up and headed to the bedroom. He placed her on the mattress and brushed the hair off her forehead. “Sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now.”
He turned to leave as Rachel cried out, reaching for him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll just be in the parlor. I’ll sleep on the sofa, but you can call me anytime you want.”
She eased up on one elbow. “No. I don’t want to be alone. Please?”
Good Lord, this would be torture. Her long, slender legs mesmerized him as she shifted over on the bed. “Please. Stay with me.”
“Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” How in hell was he to climb onto that bed and spend the night next to this woman who made him think of all the wicked things he’d like to do to her? Her scent, her soft body, those lips he wanted to plunder—
One lone tear tracked down her cheek, and he was lost. Even if he had to recite Bible verses all night, he could not leave her. She needed him, and he would do what was necessary.
“All right.” He pulled off his boots and socks and settled in alongside her. She curled into him, her delicate hand on his chest. Not having a choice, he slid his arm around her, pulling her even closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. He didn’t think he would breathe all night.
The cloth slipped from her face, so he gently removed it and flung it across the room. Her soft snores told him she was already asleep. He leaned back to look down at her. She looked so peaceful in slumber. He moved her damp hair from her face and ran his fingers down her soft cheek. Holding her snug in his arms felt incredibly right.
Yet it was all so very wrong.
Chapter Six