Free A Worthy Pursuit by Karen Witemeyer

Stone and caught his grimace. He tried to conceal the action by swiveling his head away from her when he noticed her attention, but he’d not been fast enough. As if embarrassed by his weakened condition, he turned away from her and started hobbling after Dobson.
    “Stephen?” She gave the boy’s shoulders a squeeze then gently pulled out of his hold. “I need you to fetch my medicine box, a basin of clean water, and a clean washrag from the laundry basket. Can you do that for me?”
    His posture straightened as he tipped back his head to meet her gaze. “Yes, ma’am.” He sniffed once then set his jaw.
    “Good.” She smiled her approval. “Bring them to Dobson’s cabin. That’s where Mr. Hammond will be staying for the remainder of his visit.”
    The boy nodded but didn’t move, his attention riveted on the man gingerly making his way to the bunkhouse behind Mr. Dobson. “Mr. Hammond?” The call echoed across the yard.
    The man stopped, glanced back. “Yeah?”
    “Thanks.”
    A dip of the chin was all the response the man gave, but Stephen seemed to find it sufficient. He mimicked the action himself then bolted for the house and the tasks awaiting him.
    Charlotte longed to follow him, to hide from the man who stirred up a storm of conflicting emotions inside her. How could she feel indebted to a man whose very presence threatened everything she held dear? How could she see strength and courage and nobility in him when he was Dorchester’s man?
    Well, at this particular moment, his employer’s identity was irrelevant. He’d risked his life to save Stephen. He deserved her gratitude along with whatever solace she could offer. Straightening her spine, she grabbed a handful of skirt and hurried after his retreating form. It didn’t take long to close the gap. The poor man was limping on top of everything else he’d endured.
    “Did you injure your leg?” she asked as she came alongside him.
    He didn’t look at her, just kept walking with his focus trained on the ground as if he’d topple if he couldn’t see the place where his feet connected with the earth. “Wrenched my hip when I fell out of the tree.”
    Fell out of the . . . ? Mercy. She hadn’t seen that portion of the struggle. It was a wonder the man had survived at all.
    “Mr. Dobson?”
    The caretaker turned to face her and raised a bushy white eyebrow. “Yeah?”
    “Hurry on to get the doctor. He could have broken ribs or other internal damage from the fall. I’ll see that Mr. Hammond gets settled.”
    “Nothin’s broken,” Hammond ground out through a clenched jaw. “Just banged up. No need to bother the doc.”
    Of all the stubborn, prideful, stupidly male things to say. Charlotte pierced him with a scathing glower, hoping he’d feel the heat of it even if he refused to look at her. “Well, you’re on my property, Mr. Hammond, so I get to make the rules. And Rule Number One clearly states that anyone who falls out of a tree while being attacked by a vicious bobcat has to be examined by a doctor. So your swollen pride will just have to take the hit.”
    That got him to look up. She braced for his anger, but when his eyes met hers they danced with laughter. “That’s some Rule Number One. I suppose Number Two addresses the consequences for tanglin’ with a bear. No, wait. Coyote?”
    “Water moccasin, actually,” Charlotte replied, barely managing to keep her lips from twitching into a smile. “We do have a lake nearby.”
    Stone chuckled. Then winced, a keen reminder of what she was supposed to be about.
    Charlotte darted ahead and held the bunkhouse door wide.Stone hobbled inside and limped toward an empty bunk. She frowned as she scanned the room’s interior. She’d never really paid much mind to this building, seeing as how it was Dobson’s domain. But several details would need to be seen to if Mr. Hammond were to take up residence. Sheets, for one. A blanket or two as well. The mattress on the spare bunk was