This close, she could see flecks of blue in his gray eyes, could smell the leather and sweat, and something uniquely him. His pupils were equal, responsive. "No concussion," then "Three," he said quietly. "Good. Can you stand?
He nodded and Tom helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly and without thinking, Clara slipped under his arm, taking some of his weight. He stiffened but didn't pull away. "Sophie, run ahead and have Molly heat water." Clara instructed Tom, can you manage the horse? The foreman nodded, already moving toward the agitated animal.
Clara, half-supported, half-guided Ethan toward the house, acutely aware of his body pressed against hers, the heat of him seeping through her dress. "I can walk," he muttered. "Humor me," she replied. "I'd rather not have to explain to the town how I became a widow after only a week of marriage." He made a sound that might have been a laugh, quickly suppressed. In the kitchen, Molly had already prepared hot water and clean cloths.
Clara guided Ethan to a chair, then began cleaning the wound with practiced efficiency. "You've done this before," he observed, wincing as she dabbed at the cut. "My father was a doctor," she said, concentrating on her work. "I assisted him from the time I was 12 until," She stopped abruptly. "Until?
Until I came west," she reached for the iodine. "This will sting." "It did." He hissed through his teeth but held still. Sophie watched from the doorway, her face pale with worry. "Is Papa going to die?" she whispered. "No, sweetheart," Clara said gently.
"He's going to be just fine. Head wounds always bleed a lot, but this one isn't deep. He won't even need stitches." Sophie crept closer, drawn by the calm authority in Clara's voice. "You know about medicine?" "A little. My father taught me.
Could you could you teach me? It was the first time Sophie had spoken to her directly without anger or hostility. Clara was careful not to show how much it meant. "If you'd like," she said casually. "Though I should warn you, it involves learning about blood and bones and other things that might seem scary." "I'm not scared," Sophie said quickly, lifting her chin in a gesture that was pure Ethan.
"I helped when our mare foaled last spring. There was lots of blood then. Brave girl, Clara murmured, applying a bandage to Ethan's forehead. There, all done. You'll have a headache and you should rest today.
I have work to do, which Tom in the other hands can manage for one day. She began packing away the medical supplies, or would you prefer to pass out in the field and really give Sophie something to worry about? Their eyes met again, a silent battle of wills. Sophie watched them both, her gaze darting between them like she was watching a tennis match. Finally, Ethan relented.
Fine. Half a day. The whole day until after lunch. Until tomorrow morning. You're awfully bossy for someone who's been here a week.