Rocky Mountain Wild (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 6) by Lee Savino Page B

made a dismissive noise. “Is he the one who called ye cursed?”
    Phoebe nodded.
    “I don’t like him. You’re about as cursed as me.” He rose and stomped to the hearth. “Stubborn. Frustrating. But not cursed.” Dishing out a bowl of porridge, he handed it to her. “Eat that. I can’t have my best working lassie fainting in her bed.”
    “I’m sorry—”
    “No need to apologize. It’s as much my fault as yours.”
    Tasting the gruel, Phoebe found it good. He’d sweetened it with honey. “How is it your fault?”
    “I didn’t put my foot down and make you live here from the first.”
    “But I didn’t want that.”
    “I know.” He sat down across from her. “But it’s plain you’ve got some twisted ideas in your head. And if I had any sense, I would’ve kept you close so I could root them out. Now I intend to.” Leaning forward, he tapped the bowl and gestured to her to keep eating.
    She ate another bite. He stayed across from her, elbows to knees, fixed on watching her eat. She felt guilty; he must have put a lot of time into caring for her while she was sick.
    “How long was I sick?”
    “Two days.”
    “Two days!” Her spoon clattered in the bowl. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
    He looked at her as if she’d told him that pigs fly.
    “You can dock my wages for the time I didn’t work.” Her voice shook a little; she couldn’t afford to lose money, not with a hut roof to fix, but she could offer to stitch more for Mrs. Martin to make up for it.
    “I’m not docking your pay.”
    “You must, though.”
    With a growl, Calum rose, picked her up out of the chair, sat, and plunked her into his lap. Picking up the bowl, he presented a heaping spoonful to her mouth. “Eat.”
    “But—”
    “Open, Phoebe. That’s right. Now chew and swallow.” She did and they both glared at each other.
    “You’re going to eat all this porridge, then take a bath and get back into bed. No lip.” His eyebrows bristled in warning. “I’m nursing you back to health if it kills me.”
    She blinked.
    “You know what I mean. At this rate, it might kill us both.”
    “I’ll eat the porridge,” she grumbled.
    “Thank you. And another thing, you want to pay me back for the time you missed, you live here. It’ll cut time off you coming in each morning, and I can wake to a hot hearth and meal.” His eyebrows went up as if waiting for her to protest.
    That did make sense though.
    “All right. I’ll move into the second bedroom.”
    “Thank you. My god, you’re a hard lassie to help. I’d throttle ye if I wasn’t trying so hard to get you well.”
    “You could always spank me,” she pointed out. “You seem to have no qualms about doing that.”
    “Oh, I will. I won’t do it until you’re feeling much better, but you give me lip about something that might cost you your life, or health, and I’ll beat your bottom red. You’re stubborn, but I am too. And I’m bigger.”
    She grinned. She didn’t feel afraid at all, just somehow, happy, sitting in the large Scot’s lap, eating porridge. It felt right.
    “You are big,” she said, snuggling to him. “That’s why I’m going to eat all of this, and get strong.” He looked shocked, but his arms slowly closed around her.
    “Good, lass,” he murmured, and she liked the sound of that as well.
    She sat and ate her whole breakfast, and he stroked her black hair, then gave her more tea while he drew the bath.
    He left her to it with fierce instructions to soak and then get out before the water cooled, wrap up and go back to bed, or “your bottom will pay, one way or another.”
    Phoebe soaked in the tub, watching the fire devour the great logs Calum fed it. She was warm and fed and snug as a bird in its nest. A baby bird, with a great big wolf prowling around, sworn to protect it. She could almost forget the monsters in the world that had plagued her all her life. They were nothing compared to her champion and protector.
    Perhaps it wouldn’t