Free Shadow Walker by Connie Mason Page B

shoulder?” Dawn asked conversationally.
    “Hardly hurts at all,” Cole said, though in truth he felt more than a twinge of pain.
    “You take the bed tonight. It’s more comfortable than the bedroll.”
    “We could share the bed like we did last night.” His words told her he’d been more aware than she had given him credit for.
    Dawn’s spoon clattered against her bowl. “I … that is, we … You couldn’t have remembered.”
    “I remember,” Cole said huskily. “I remember how empty my arms felt when I awakened and you were gone.”
    “You thought I was Morning Mist.”
    “I knew exactly who you were, lady. Besides, what can it hurt if we share the bed? I’m too weak to do either of us any good.”
    Dawn’s eyes slid over him assessingly. He didn’t look weak. He looked amazingly fit for a man who’d been shot and had survived a fever. He must have the constitution of an elephant.
    “I’ll take my chances with the bedroll,” she replied shortly. Dawn trusted Cole more than she did any man but not enough to lie beside him all night. Or was it herself she didn’t trust?
    “No!
I’ll
take the bedroll,” Cole said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Either we share the bed or I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s your choice.”
    “Sleeping with a man is … It’s not—”
    “I’m not Billy Cobb. I won’t hurt you. Unlike your husband and his men, I don’t take women unless they’re willing. All I’m suggesting is that we share the bed. Otherwise, I’ll make do on the floor.”
    When Dawn remained silent, Cole rose somewhat stiffly. He’d been up too long, he thought as he staggered toward the corner to retrieve his bedroll. The dull ache in his shoulder was now a painful throbbing, and if he didn’t lie down soon he’d probably fall down.
    Dawn watched Cole stagger across the room with a twinge of guilt. Sharing the bed was a logical solution, so why was she acting like a foolish child? Had he allowed her to use the bedroll, there would be no argument, but Cole was too much of a gentleman to take the bed while she slept on the floor.
    “Wait! We’ll share the bed. But only until you’re well enough to sleep on the floor yourself.”
    “Deal,” Cole said as he changed directions and stumbled to the bed. To his credit, he fell asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.
    Since Cole had fallen asleep so soon, Dawn decided not to awaken him to change his bandage. Briefly she considered sleeping in her dress, butcouldn’t bear the thought of her beautiful new gown being reduced to a mass of wrinkles. Fearing that Cole would awaken while she was undressing, she pulled her voluminous nightgown over her head and undressed beneath it. Then she crawled into bed, pushing herself as close to the edge as possible.
    Sleeping in Cole’s arms last night had proved something to Dawn. Sleeping with a man could be wonderfully pleasant and comforting, if he was the right man. Sleeping next to Billy had revolted her. Whenever Billy returned to the cabin, he usually tried and failed to perform as a man. Then he would curse and beat her and kick her out of bed, forcing her to sleep on the bare floor. She was eternally grateful for Billy’s frequent visits to the cabin.
    Even in slumber, Cole sensed Dawn beside him. He felt her warmth, inhaled her sweet, natural scent, and turned toward her in his sleep. He reached out, gathering her in his arms and pulling her against him. Half asleep, Dawn resisted briefly, then cuddled into the curve of Cole’s body as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
    Cole awoke slowly to darkness and a feeling of contentment. He couldn’t recall when he’d felt so at peace. The woman in his arms was warm and sweet-smelling. A firm breast filled his hand, and he fondled the nipple that pressed impudently against his palm.
    Morning Mist.
    He almost said her name aloud until he remembered. Morning Mist was dead. The woman beside him was named Dawn. Dawn, with long