Free Captive Heart by Michele Paige Holmes Page B

her to give him the medicine. With a pained expression, she surrendered it, then stomped out of the room. He followed quietly, turning in the doorway to address Emmalyne.
    “We’ll bring supper shortly, and don’t worry about any more of Mrs. Beckett’s cures. She means well, but I’ll watch her close tonight.” Half closing the door, he stepped into the hall.
    Emmalyne shut her eyes, head hung in defeat as she thought of what to do now. Clearly, Mrs. Beckett was not going to believe or help her, but the doctor might possibly. And Mr. Kendrich? Where was he? When had they seen his wounds and heard his twisted version of her abduction?
    Married, indeed.
    She felt the same spark of anger as when he had first demanded she get out of her seat on the train. Thinking of all she’d faced since then, Emmalyne knew she could still figure a way out of this mess. She just needed to get to the telegraph office. Wondering if the house had a back stairway and an exit other than the front door, she leaned forward, pushing the blankets away, her intent to walk to the window and survey the street below.
    “You’ll need some new clothes before you leave.”
    Emmalyne’s hands froze on the quilt, and she slowly raised her head, looking at Thayne Kendrich, standing—hale and hearty—in the doorway. She met his eyes, crystal clear and blue, looking at her almost as if he were concerned.
    “You’re alive.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, but all she could think of was the last time she’d seen him and the guilt she’d felt at leaving him alone and injured.
    “No thanks to you.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
    Emmalyne drew the quilt back up to her chest. “You wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t know what to do. I left to get help.” She didn’t know why she cared, but it suddenly mattered that he believed she hadn’t left him to die.
    “I’m sure that was your plan,” he said sarcastically. “Help would have been a little late, seeing how you left me with no gun, canteen, or hat.”
    “I left you a pail of water,” Emmalyne said. “And what could you do with a gun when you couldn’t even move your arm?”
    “And my hat ?” Thayne walked closer, tossing a package on the bed.
    “It was hot,” Emmalyne said, defending herself. “I thought it might help me get to Sidney without fainting again.”
    “Nice try, and I might have believed it, except Mrs. Beckett just told me how you said you were almost safe when that snake bit you.”
    “I was!” Emmalyne cried, leaning forward, her hands balled into fists at her side. “Was I so wrong to want to get away from you, to get to Sterling where I’m supposed to be?”
    Several seconds passed before Thayne answered. At last he shook his head. “Not wrong at all, Brownie. I can’t blame you for wanting to leave. Trouble is, I still need you.”
    “You don’t.” Emmalyne shook her head. “What could you possibly need me for? You’ve gotten out of more predicaments in the past few days than most people see in a lifetime. Surely you can get whatever you need from the Indians—without my help.” Her fingers clenched the blanket, and she looked at him, pleading.
    Thayne pulled the chair away from the wall and turned it around. Straddling it, he sat, leaning closer to her. “You feeling all right?”
    “Marvelous,” Emmalyne grumbled, realizing he wasn’t about to be swayed. “How long does snake poison stay with you? My head feels like it’s full of cobwebs.”
    Thayne nodded, understanding. “That’s not the venom—took care of that myself. And for the record, that’s five times I’ve saved your hide now.”
    Emmalyne glared at him.
    “Mrs. Beckett’s tonic is what’s muddling your mind. I had a dose myself, and it knocked me for a loop.”
    “I don’t think she’ll rest until she’s given me more,” Emmalyne complained.
    “It’s not likely I can convince her to leave you be, but how about something to take your medicine