Read Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose for Free Online Page B

me.”
    Rand turned and, half in and half out the doorway, said, “I’ll go. I saw her peeking through the lace curtains when I hurried over.”
    As the sheriff left, Trace stepped out of the doctor’s light.
    “Hand me those scissors on the counter and light the lamp on the other side of the bed.”
    Following the doctor’s order, he handed the scissors to him before lighting the second kerosene lamp. The scissors bit through the material with a snap. “Any idea who did this?”
    “Nope. I was riding back from the Willard place and found them.”
    “Hey, Doc, got yer hot water here,” Clyde called out, coming through from the kitchen.
    “In the basin,” he ordered. Looking back at Trace, he gestured toward her boots. “Best get those boots off her.”
    While the doctor moved to instruct Clyde on where to put the water, Trace crossed to the foot of the bed.
    So small. She barely took any room on the single bed. He noticed the dark circles marring her cream-colored skin beneath those long, smoky lashes and the copper-colored curls that streamed across the pillow. Bending over, he ran his hand up the long brown leather of her riding boot and broke the leather’s hold to pull them from her legs.
    As he worked, Trace filled his mind with the thoughts about the men who would do such a thing to a defenseless woman like her. Why would they have singled her out ? What possibly could this innocent have done ? For now, he would appoint himself her protector, and he would be the one to exact retribution for this injustice. He held on to the second foot for just a moment, then eased her other leg back down to the covers.
    Doc Martin came back across the room, his hands ruddy pink from another wash. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
    Trace’s stomach looped in knots as the doctor, with a twitch of his jaw, lifted the first bandages off. “She gonna be all right?” he asked, his hands tightening against the metal of the foot rail.
    Doc Martin looked up and gave him a fatherly evil eye. “I think she’ll make it, barring infection. It will be a tough few days.” He looked back at Mary Rose but asked Trace, “You plan on sticking around?”
    “Yeah, I’ll be here. I have too many questions and not enough answers,” Trace replied.
    Their conversation was cut short by a cry from the other room. “Land sakes,” a woman’s voice echoed. “Where is that lamb?”
    Like a small whirlwind, the Widow Hatfield barreled into the room and paused. “John Martin, you called?”
    “Wash up, Louisa. I’ll need your assistance. I’ve got a wound to cauterize.”
    “Wash up, indeed.” She harrumphed and moved toward the wash pan.
    Trace caught Rand’s glance and backed away from the bed. He hated leaving the woman, but with a deep breath he moved toward the doorway. “You,” he said, spying Clyde. The man jumped. “Follow me.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Stepping out to his horse, he slid his Winchester from the scabbard and tossed it to Clyde, who caught it with both hands. “It’s got two shots,” he told him. “One for a warning and the second to put a bullet between the eyes of the first person you don’t know that comes to that door.”
    “Only two?” Clyde asked.
    Trace looked at him with a cold-eyed stare. “You won’t need a third. By that time, I’ll be here.”
    Clyde’s Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed the information. “I’ll just go and sit in the doorway, there.” He pointed.
    “You do that.” Trace agreed. “You just do that.”

Chapter Four
    Like most lawmen, short on sleep, Rand preferred his coffee strong, hot, and black. Trace could feel the heat from the cup as it was placed before him. Using an old army trick, he dropped a spoon into it to absorb the heat. That action brought a chuckle from Rand as he settled into the chair across from the desk. “You think that will help?” he asked, gesturing with his own mug toward Trace’s cup.
    “Can’t hurt,” Trace replied, sitting back to