Read Charlene Sands for Free Online Page B

that kept the dear man upright.
    “I’ll tend him.”
    The doctor gave her a fatherly look, one filled with admiration and gratitude. “Best thing for him. We better move him into the house. I’ll fetch a ranch hand or two.”
    Lily left the men to their task. She had other concerns. Bethann being first and foremost. When she entered the house, Bethann was sitting on the sofa, sobbing. Rhonda Mae was holding her hand, trying to console her.
    “How’s…my…papa?” she asked between sobs. “Uncle Wes says I—I can’t see him right now.”
    Lily seated herself next to Bethann, wrapping an arm about her shoulders. “Your papa’s been hurt, but Doc Ramsey thinks he’s going to be just fine. He’s going to need us to take care of him. Could you dothat, Bethann? Could you help me care for your papa?”
    The little girl’s head bobbed up and down. Lily put gentle pressure on her shoulder. “That’s what I thought. You’ll make your papa proud, being so brave. Now, you girls must be hungry. Let’s rustle up something to eat, then we’ll have a piece of chocolate cake. Wes will be hitching up the wagon soon to take Rhonda Mae home.”
    Bethann folded her arms across her chest and pouted. “I’m not hungry. ’Sides, I don’t want my party till Papa gets better.”
    Lily stood up and reached for her hand. “Bethann, you need to eat. Remember, your papa needs you strong so you can help tend him. We won’t have your party until your papa’s better, I promise.”
    The little girl nodded. She jumped off the sofa and took Lily’s hand. Lily led the girls into the kitchen.
    Lily’d had a full day. After feeding both girls, seeing Rhonda Mae off, tucking Bethann into bed and having Wes give her a quick tour of the house, she was near exhaustion. The night was just beginning. Doc Ramsey said he expected the low-grade fever Tyler developed to spike during the night.
    Tyler had briefly come to several times, mumbling incoherently, then drifted off again.
    Lily took a cloth to wipe her brow. She was perspiring, as much from the sight of Tyler Kincaide sprawled out near-naked on the bed as from the accumulated heat of the day. Wes had the good sense to throw a sheet over Tyler’s lower body, but his manly form was still visible through the thin material.
    Lily’s eyes roamed over Tyler’s face, being able toleisurely look her fill. She felt guilty—as if she were trespassing over his tempting features and knowing well and good Tyler would never know.
    He was calm and relaxed as he slumbered, showing the early signs of a stubble beard. Dark shaggy hair was pushed off his face in an effort to keep him cool. His jawline was well defined and Lily knew from experience how well it’d set in a stubborn stance.
    Even in his weakened state, his broad well-muscled chest exuded a certain undeniable strength. The crisp dark hairs tapered down his torso in a vee past his navel and tucked under the sheets. Lily allowed her gaze to wander beyond those sheets, momentarily, imagining the hidden secrets that lay there. She swallowed hard, wondering if there’d ever be another man on this earth who’d create such stirrings in her. In all her twenty-five years, Tyler Kincaide was the sole proprietor of her errant and lusty thoughts.
    She shook her head, attempting to shake off her rampant musings and looked over his bedroom. The man was large, but his oak-carved bed was massive. A matching armoire sat against the far wall. Two chairs, one wing-backed, one spindled, were the only other furniture. There were two windows, one facing east and one west.
    Sunrises and sunsets.
    Lily pulled the softly worn, blue velvet wing chair close to the bed and sat down. Dipping a clean cloth into a porcelain bowl, she carefully wrung it out before gently swabbing Tyler’s chest. Her fingers grazed over his warmed skin and Lily’s heart thumped so loudly, she feared the man would awaken from the hubbub. One look at his peaceful expression told her