Page 46 of At Love’s Command

“For that?” She grimaced at the filthy hat before focusing on the man she was starting to suspect was actively avoiding her attention. “I should probably check your head for lice.” She took a step closer.

“No need.” He waved her off, but she ignored the gesture.

So help her, if he was hiding an injury . . .

“Preach, tend the horses.” Matthew retreated from her, tossing his saddlebags over his shoulder and calling out orders to his men like some kind of defensive maneuver to block her advance. “Jonah, inventory the supplies. Wallace, keep an eye on our . . . guest.”

Why would someone need to keep an eye on Charlie? Josephine’s mouth tightened. Matthew’s tone gave the impression that the order stemmed from a lack of trust rather than a desire to protect. The implication abraded her family loyalty and left her voice a tad sharper than it should have been.

“Any orders for me, Captain?”

Still, he didn’t turn. He simply waved her off. “Just see to your brother.”

Josephine marched after him. “I will not be ignored, Matthew.” She grabbed his arm from behind, then flinched when he yanked it away.

He immediately stopped and twisted his neck to look at her, his eyes apologetic. “Sorry, Josie. I didn’t mean to pull away from you like that. I just—”

“Josie?” Charlie’s voice challenged from behind her. “Who gave you the right to address my sister so informally?”

“I did,” she snapped. For pity’s sake. If men weren’t being stubborn, they were being ridiculously overprotective. She turned back to Matthew. “Apology accepted. Now quit dissembling and face me.”

Matthew quirked a half grin. “Still slinging those ten-dollar words, I see.”

The grin distracted her, but only for a moment, because out of the corner of her eye she spied the large stain on the left leg of his trousers. Her gaze flew back to the arm she’d grabbed a moment ago. A smaller stain soiled his sleeve, as well. No wonder he’d jerked away from her.

“You’re injured!” It emerged more as an accusation than the expression of concern most women would make over a man they cared about. But most women weren’t doctors. Doctors their men should trust with their wounds because they believed them competent. “Why would you hide that from me?”

“They’re just scratches, Josie. I swear. I’ll rent a quick bath at the barbershop, clean ’em up, and be good to ride. Nothing to concern yourself over.”

“Nothing to concern myself over?”

“Oh, now you’ve stepped in it.” Charlie chuckled.

Josephine swung around and jabbed a finger in her brother’s direction. “You be quiet. He wouldn’t be injured in the first place if it weren’t for you.”

“Hey!” All jocularity fell from Charlie’s face. “I didn’t ask him to take on Taggart’s gang for my benefit.”

“No. I did.” She spun away from her brother. His lack of remorse and failure to accept any level of responsibility made her chest ache. “And I paid for his services with the promise of medical treatment. Anytime. Anywhere. And I plan to hold up my end of the bargain.” She met Matthew’s eyes, her heart doing a little flip. “I need to make sure you’re all right. Even the smallest wound, if not properly treated, can turn septic. Please, Matthew.”

He blew out a breath, his face reddening slightly. “Fine. But this can’t take more than fifteen minutes. Taggart and his gang didn’t follow us, but I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them. I’ll feel better when we have more distance separating us.” He speared her with his gaze, making it clear she was the part of us he was most concerned about.

Feeling mollified and even slightly cherished, Josephine gave a crisp nod. “Very well. I’ll follow you to the barbershop. Once you’re out of your bath, I can examine your wounds.”

Charlie, having dismounted, pushed his way into the conversation. “Not without a chaperone, you won’t. I’m coming with you.”

“Guess it’ll be a party,” Mr. Wallace said with a smile. “I won’t mind having the chance to clean up a bit.” His easy manner helped diffuse the tension flaring between her brother and Matthew. They didn’t seem to like each other very much. Odd, since Matthew had just saved Charlie’s life.

“Let’s get a move on, then.” Matthew glared at Charlie, then marched off toward the building with a striped pole out front, two doors down from the mercantile.

Josephine hurried to catch up, but Charlie slowed her with a hand to her arm as the two of them followed a short distance behind.

“Is this fellow courting you, Jo?” he asked in a hushed voice, the frown on his face indicating his lack of enthusiasm over the prospect.

“There’s no official understanding between us, but there’s . . . potential. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“None of my business? I’m your brother.”

“And I’m a twenty-eight-year-old professional woman who happens to be fully capable of making decisions pertaining to her personal life without the opinion of a male family member.”