Free Miner's Daughter by Alice Duncan

world.
    “Here, Mr. Ewing. I’ve brought a bandage for
you.”
    Her voice was soft and musical; it didn’t fit
her. She was anything but soft and musical. She was a stringy
harridan, and she was crazy, obtuse, and dangerous.
    “Thank you. You needn’t bother.” He made sure
his voice was as hard as rocks.
    The insane woman didn’t seem to care. “Don’t
be a baby,” she commanded, as if his voice hadn’t put her off at
all. “You can’t keep slapping that rag on your head for the rest of
your life. I’ll just bandage it with gauze and tape and you can
forget about it.”
    And exactly what did she mean by that? Tony
would never forget that she’d beaned him with a rock. Why, he might
well have a permanent scar from this. Not that he cared about
scars. Still, she seemed mighty nonchalant for a woman who’d
recently attempted murder. Not to mention the fact that it was
terribly humiliating to have allowed himself to be conked by a
female.
    “I doubt that I’ll be able to forget about it
entirely, Miss Pottersby, since. I have no doubt the wound will
take some time to heal.” Lord, he did sound rather like a small
child, didn’t he? Trying to cover up, he said with an assumption of
graciousness, “You needn’t bother. I can bandage my own head.”
    “You’ll need a mirror to see yourself,” she
pointed out.
    Nettled, Tony snapped, “I’m sure I can
manage.”
    “Oh, stop being such a darned snot!” Mari had
the grace to blush and press her lips together.
    Tony merely glared at her, so indignant his
head began to pound, which he was pretty sure wasn’t doing his
wound any good.
    “I’m sorry,” she said almost immediately. “I
didn’t mean that. And I’m sorry I hurt you. Even if you did deserve
it.”
    It was as if she couldn’t bear to make a
sincere apology. Livid, Tony said in measured tones, “I was trying
to help you.”
    She sighed. “Yes, yes, I know. Now shut up
and let me cover that knot.”
    He gave up. “Very well.”
    “You might want to try to relax. You’re sure
to get a headache if you stay all mad and tense like that, Mr.
Ewing “
    “And exactly how much medical training have
you had, Miss Pottersby?”
    She sighed again. “Go ahead, belittle me. But
I’ve learned how to doctor most injuries and illnesses in my
life.”
    “I’m sure.” He hoped he sounded disparaging,
because that’s how he felt.
    She didn’t argue. Her fingers handled the
gauze and scissors deftly, and she created a perfect pad for his
poor head. The wound throbbed, and Tony wondered if she was right
about him getting a headache if he didn’t calm down. Dammit, he
didn’t want her to be right. About anything.
    “After I get the pad taped in place, I’m
going to massage your neck,” she told him
    He jerked away from her, spoiling Mari’s aim
and getting a piece of plaster stuck to his nose. He yanked it away
furiously. “You’re going to what?”
    “Will you stop that?” She ripped another
length of tape from the roll and snipped it off. She was sticking
the strips to one of the arms of his chair.
    He wasn’t sure he trusted her. “Why are you
doing that?” he asked suspiciously.
    “So they’ll be ready when I need them.”
    That made sense. “Oh.” He still didn’t like
it.
    “Stay still, or we’ll never get this
done.”
    But Tony wasn’t so easily mollified. “You
said something about massaging my neck. What was that about?” It
was outrageous. It was scandalous. No proper female put her bare
hands on a gentleman’s flesh, massage or no massage, wound or no
wound.
    “For pity’s sake, calm down and stop being
such a sissy,” Mari commanded
    “Sissy? Sissy!”
    “Yes. Sissy. You’re thinking it’s improper
for me to massage your neck, aren’t you?”
    Tony clamped his mouth shut and didn’t answer
her sarcastic question, mainly because he’d have had to say
yes.
    “Well, for your information, mister, massage
helps relax a body. When you have to live rough, you