Free One Texas Night by Jodi Thomas Page A

lap. The wonder that she could care for a man so quickly danced in her mind with the grief that would come if she lost him.
    In the few hours they’d been together she’d taken him into her heart, and there he would remain whether she loved or mourned him for a lifetime. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the moment she’d known he could be someone to depend on and trust. Though she liked his laughter and the way he gently teased her, it had been something far more basic that drew her even during their conversation outside the dugout. Hank listened. He really listened to her. Could something so simple form a bond that would weather them through hard times?
    She looked down at his lean body. Strong and tan from hard work. It occurred to her that she’d never seen so much of a male body before and she should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t—somehow this man belonged to her—was a part of her.
    “Keep his head as still as you can, Mrs. Harris,” the doctor ordered. “I don’t want him thrashing about when I set this leg.”
    Aggie placed her hands on Hank’s cheeks and noticed her tears were falling across his face, but it didn’t matter; nothing mattered but Hank. She could not, would not, lose him.
    When the doc and Blue set the leg, pulling the bone back in place, Hank groaned in pain. Aggie pressed her face close to his and whispered over and over, “You’re going to be all right, dear. You’re going to be fine.”
    Aggie watched, feeling the pain with him as they sewed up the cuts and strapped his leg to a board that ran from his knee to his foot. She washed his face and chest, keeping him cool as the doctor checked his head wound again and again.
    Finally, a little after dawn, the doc packed up his things, saying all that was left to do was to wait and see. Hank seemed to be resting comfortably, which was the best medicine.
    An hour later, Aggie heard Blue talking to the sheriff. The lawman insisted on speaking to her, but she wouldn’t leave Hank’s side to go into the main room. Her new nightgown was spotted with blood and she didn’t remember when she’d removed her robe or where. Hank’s Colts hung on the headboard, within easy reach if she needed them.
    Finally, Blue opened the door and asked if it would be all right if the sheriff came in for a minute.
    Aggie pulled a thin blanket over her shoulders and nodded. The sheriff walked in, took one look at her, and didn’t waste time with small talk.
    “Did you see the man who did this?”
    “One man.” Aggie tried to focus on something besides Hank’s breathing. “I only saw his shadow. He wasn’t tall but he seemed thick, barrel-chested, or it may have been his coat that made him look so. His horse was dark, black or brown and bigger than most. I don’t remember any markings. I heard him swear as he rode from the barn, but he was only in my sites for a moment.”
    The sheriff looked up from his notes. “You fired at him?”
    “I hit him,” she said.
    “How do you know? He didn’t stop. How can you be sure, Mrs. Harris? Maybe you only thought you hit him?”
    Suddenly too tired to keep her eyes open, she curled beside Hank. “I hit him,” she mumbled, “because I always hit what I aim at.”
    “And where did you aim?”
    “Left shoulder,” she answered as she rested her head on Hank’s arm. “Look for a man wounded in the left shoulder and you’ll find the man who attacked my husband.”
    She fell asleep without seeing the look the sheriff and Blue gave each other.
     
    Chapter 10
     
    Hank came to one painful inch at a time. His leg felt like he’d left it in a campfire. His head throbbed.
    He turned slowly. Something soft brushed his chin.
    Opening one eye he recognized Aggie’s hair. She was curled up in a ball, sleeping beside him. The thin blanket barely covered her.
    “She’s been asleep like that for a few hours.” Blue’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Stayed up with you all night. Refused to leave your side