Page 47 of At Love’s Command

Charlie shook his head. “Still bossy as ever, I see.” They reached the boardwalk, and he tugged her to a stop.

Matthew continued on to the barbershop, and Mr. Wallace hung back a few steps to give the siblings some privacy.

“I’m not putting myself in your business because I think you need me,” Charlie said. “Heaven knows you have too much stubborn pride to need anyone.” The trace of bitterness in his voice made Josephine frown. “It’s just that I care about you, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” He glanced at Mr. Wallace, then modulated his tone to a softer decibel. “This man’s not good for you, Jo. I know men of his kind. Men who make their living with their guns. He’s violent and cold. You didn’t see how he fought back there in that canyon. Facing down a dozen men with a six-shooter in each hand like some kind of demon.”

Josephine’s knees nearly buckled. A dozen men? How had Matthew escaped with only two small flesh wounds? Surely God had been watching over him. God and the Horsemen.

“You’re a healer, Jo. This . . . this mercenary is the opposite of everything you stand for. You can’t let that into your life. It changes you.”

Those last words carried a haunting quality that stirred Josephine’s compassion. He was speaking from experience.

She clasped Charlie’s hand. “I know you see him as no different from those men who took you hostage, but you’re wrong, Charlie. Matthew is a good man. A former cavalry officer. Someone who fights on behalf of decent people at the mercy of evil men. People like you.” She squeezed his hand. “Matthew Hanger risks his life for strangers. He’s a hero.”

Charlie’s face paled, and he stumbled back a step. “Did you say Matthew Hanger? As in Hanger’s Horsemen?”

Josephine raised a brow. “That’s right. The Horsemen are the ones who rescued you.”

Charlie reached for the railing behind him, as if he were having trouble staying on his feet.

“Charlie?” She put a hand to his forehead to check for fever. “Are you all right?”

He pushed her hand away. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Let’s get in there. Your beau doesn’t seem the type to put up with delays.”

He stomped up the steps and disappeared into the barbershop. Mr. Wallace followed, giving her a shrug of commiseration as he strolled past.

What on earth had gotten into her brother? Wouldn’t someone who’d just been rescued from a group of villainous thugs be thankful the famous Hanger’s Horsemen were on his side? Yet his reaction left her with the distinct impression that thankful was the opposite of what Charlie felt.

CHAPTER

TWENTY

Matt made quick work of his bath. One, because he didn’t trust Josephine not to march straight into the bathhouse and demand to see his injuries. And two, because Charlie kept shooting him disgruntled looks, and being naked in a tub didn’t exactly throw much weight behind Matt’s “don’t mess with me, whelp” glare. The scowl he used to keep new recruits in line worked much better when he was dressed, armed, and standing toe-to-toe with the kid who needed to be taken down a notch.

Steeling himself for the pain he was about to inflict, Matt lathered the washrag. The wound three inches above his knee already throbbed from the long ride and stung from the soap in the water. But when he scrubbed the rag over it, fire ignited in his leg. Matt didn’t so much as blink, though. Just finished as fast as possible, then propped his ankles on the end of the tub to raise the wound out of the water while he dunked his head and cleaned the rest of the sweat and dirt from his skin.

When he emerged, Wallace was standing at the end of the tub, frowning at the red, oozing spot on Matt’s thigh. “Ouch. That looks like more than a crease, Captain. An inch of your hide is missing. She’s probably going to have to stitch it.”

An unappealing prospect. Not because of the pain involved, but because of the embarrassment inherent in such an exercise. Matt grimaced. Josie was a doctor. A professional. But she was still a woman, and a man just didn’t go around exposing his thighs in front of ladies. Especially one he was attracted to. He shot a sidelong glance at Charlie, who had taken off his shirt and was washing his chest and arms at a small tub atop a table. Maybe having a chaperone was a good idea, after all.

“Are you decent in there?” Josephine’s voice slipped under the curtain separating the bathing room from the rest of the barbershop.

Matt’s legs retracted like a recoiling rifle and splashed back into the water. Wallace grinned in a good-natured tease, but Charlie’s guffaw rubbed like salt in Matt’s wound.

“Better give him another minute, sis,” Charlie called. “He’s not quite fit for mixed company.”

“I’m not company,” she grumbled, and Matt could easily picture the disgruntled look on her face. “I’m his doctor.”

Thankfully, she didn’t press the issue and remained on her side of the curtain.

Matt wasn’t taking any chances, though. He lurched out of the tub, uncaring that water sloshed everywhere, and grabbed the towel Wallace handed him. He rubbed the water from his skin and hair with quick strokes, then grabbed a set of clean clothes from his saddlebag. He tugged on his cotton flannel drawers, ignoring the pink stain that seeped into the fabric over his left thigh, and pulled a serviceable gray shirt over his head. He did up the buttons, then reached for his trousers, only to realize he couldn’t put those on if Josie was going to examine his leg.

If ever there was a time to think of her as the paunchy, balding Dr. Joe he’d first imagined her to be, this was it. Thankfully, his shirttails added additional cover, but he decided a leather shield would offer more protection and plopped his saddlebag into his lap as he sat on the stool beside the tub.

“All right, Josie. It’s safe to come in.”

She pushed the curtain aside and strode in, a picture of cool efficiency, as if marching through a male-occupied bathing chamber was something she did on a regular basis. Her face registered no curiosity or shock. She simply drew up a second stool for herself and sat down. Her attention was purely focused on his wound, not him, as she opened her medical bag and set it on the floor. Feeling distinctly less awkward than he had a moment ago, Matt relaxed.

Until she touched him.