Free Give My Love to Rose by Nicole Sturgill

rubbing all over
you,” she insisted. “I was just trying to get that strappy bullet
thing off of you so I could tend to your wounds.”
    Marston’s frown deepened. “Strappy bullet
thing?”
    Rose pointed it and Marston laughed
heartily. Rose was surprised by the sound. It was rich and deep and
it rumbled out of him, causing him to look younger and more
carefree.
    “ It’s called a bandolier,”
he informed her.
    She waved her hand. “Well take it off and
your shirt too so I can clean that bite on your shoulder.”
    Marston raised a brow but did as Rose
commanded and she gasped at the sight of him. His body was unlike
any she had ever seen. He was hard, solid and thick. Brown hair
dusted his chest and a trail of that hair started low on his solid
stomach and led down into the waistband of his trousers.
    With a blush, Rose forced her eyes back up
and took in the alarming sight of scars. Marston was covered in
scars. This clearly hadn’t been the man’s first brush with
death.
    Puckered scars marred his left shoulder and
his right side. Long jagged scars lanced across his chest. Those
were the scars that stole her breath and caused the room to begin
to sway. They were identical to the scars on her back—whip
marks.
    Rose somehow forced herself to turn away
from those scars and began wetting a towel. She had to tend to the
oozing bite on his shoulder.
    Marston watched her closely. He had seen the
way her eyes had widened when she’d caught sight of his scars. He
was surprised that she hadn’t asked about them the way most people
did when they first saw them.
    Marston was confused by what he felt inside
while sitting near her. Rose was something he had never experienced
before. He was certain that she feared him, at least a little, and
that proved she was smart. But despite that fear she seemed to
truly care and have real concern for his welfare.
    Rose was a walking contradiction of sweet
and innocent mixed with temper and toughness and she intrigued him.
He found himself wanting to know more which shocked him. Marston
had never once cared about another person enough to want to get to
know them more. He took what he wanted whether it was money,
supplies, food, quick physical satisfaction or shelter for a night
and then he was gone.
    What made him act differently with this
woman and her boy?
    “ So why do you need all
those bullets anyway?” Rose asked as she took the towel and dabbed
at his wounded shoulder.
    Marston hissed with pain but remained still
and let her do as she wished. “Some men are hard to kill.”
    She shuddered. “I was being serious,” she
replied without meeting his gaze.
    Marston lowered his voice. “So was I.”
    Silence fell over the cabin as Rose took out
her needle and thread and began to sew up the deepest lacerations
on his shoulder. Marston’s jaw popped and his fists tightened
painfully.
    Rose’s face was pale and a line formed
between her eyes as she scrunched her brow and focused all her
attention on her work. When she blew a sweaty lock of hair from her
brow and sat back, Marston uttered two words that he had never
before uttered. “Thank you.”

Chapter Seven
    Though Marston hadn’t wanted to stay around
Rose any longer it seemed fate wasn’t on his side. Leaving simply
wasn’t an option. The doctor had said he needed to take it easy and
Marston could tell by the pain his shredded thigh was in that
riding horseback for hours wasn’t something he could manage.
    Rose had put fifteen stitches in his thigh,
ten in his ankle and another ten in his shoulder. By the time
Langley had returned with the doctor, Marston had already cleaned
up, changed clothes and had been sitting on the porch. The doctor
had left him some laudanum for pain, told him to rest for at least
a week to let the wounds begin to close and then he had left.
    “ Where are you going?”
Rose asked that evening as Marston stood from the porch chair and
limped toward the steps.
    “ I’m going into town.