Rocky Mountain Widow (Historical) by Jillian Hart

to do with you lying in the snow? Did they pressure you? Did they hurt you? Did they follow you?”
    Another man’s voice, placid and warning, came from the other side of the hearth. “This wasn’t from direct physical trauma, Joshua. She’d been having problems right from the start.”
    The doctor. He’d been so quiet that she’d forgotten he was here. She’d assumed he’d left after Joshua did some time ago. It was hazy, but if the doc had stayed, she couldn’t imagine how much time had passed. And how much she might owe him, a bill she could not pay.
    Worry about that later, she told herself, opening her eyes, wondering if there was any money at all. She did not know where Ham kept the earnings he made on the ranch. She did not know what bills were still owed, or even if the land was mortgaged. It was too much to think about right now, not when Joshua answered, and the impact of his words rocked her hard.
    â€œDoc, if those boys get it in their harebrained heads that she was somehow responsible for Ham being shot, they’ll come after her. They won’t care if they’re right or wrong, they’ll come just the same.”
    â€œI’ve got to get to my rounds.” A chair creaked in the direction of the kitchen, and Doc Haskins sighed, as if he were bone weary. “Thanks to your grandmother, Claire will have the nursing care she requires. But she needs protection. At least until those boys settle down. You didn’t say, Joshua. Are you hurt? They roughed you up a bit.”
    â€œI can handle them.” Joshua’s answer rang with theconfidence of a man used to taking care of things. Used to prevailing. “Claire, answer me. Have those boys threatened you or approached you? It doesn’t matter if they’ve warned you to stay quiet. I intend to keep you safe.”
    That made her look at him. “Why? I don’t even know you.”
    â€œYou do. You know everything that matters.”
    â€œYou’re right, Mr. Gable. I know that you’re a man.” The effort of turning her head brought a sick dizziness that gripped her hard. Her skull felt hollow. She didn’t think any emotion could penetrate the fog of bleakness and resignation that melded together, but anger seemed strong enough to lift her off the pillow and to make her forget the pain.
    She met his eyes, strength for strength, and held them. “You’re a man, and that means you want something.”
    Joshua Gable, kneeling at the foot of the sofa, paled. Whether in guilt or surprise, she could not tell. Only that his steel irises darkened to the flint of a thundercloud and his nostrils flared like a bull’s, ready to charge.
    Whatever initial response he’d had to her honest statement had changed to rage quickly. She’d been a wife long enough to know the signs of it. The quick rise and fall of his chest, the fisting of his hands, the way he seemed to swell up from hips to shoulders, all male, all fight.
    She did not flinch. She was no longer afraid of anything. Her gaze remained on his, an unspoken challenge. She did not blink or look away as he cleared his throat again, inhaled long and slow.
    Interesting. Perhaps this man would only rage at a woman who was his wife, his to dominate and subjugate. With his mask of composure in place, he seemed to struggle until he found the right words. “I only want to help you.”
    â€œI don’t believe you.” Her eyes felt dry and gritty, but still she did not blink. “You asked me to be honest with you, and so I will. No, the Hamilton brothers did not approach me, although I expect they will. Now, you be truthful. What do you want? The livestock? The land?”
    Joshua’s eyes darkened from thundercloud ominous to unreadable black as his pupils expanded. A bad sign. She waited, wondering what he would do as he unfolded his big frame and rose straight up, his handsome, rugged face tightening