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That perked Gray right up. He was giving Doc his full, undivided attention now. Mercy pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, a wave of fond amusement washing over her as she stared down at her grouchy old curmudgeon. Nothing made the man happier than a nap. She shook her head.
“It would probably be best to stay in a quiet room, not have too many visitors for a bit. Get lots of rest,” Doc continued, with Gray nodding eagerly.
Mercy rolled her eyes. “Be careful, Jamison. Any more instructions like these, and he’ll be walking around bashing himself in the head just so he has an excuse to lay about all day.”
Gray harrumphed. “I wouldn’t need an excuse if I’d just been allowed to retire in peace.” He tried to glower at her, but his eyes softened almost immediately. He held out a hand, pulling her in when she took it.
“How are you?” he asked. His eyes strayed to her belly and he reached out, laying a hand on her almost reverently. “Are you sure? About the…”
She cocked an eyebrow, smiling gently. “I’m fine. And yes, I’m sure. Well, relatively sure in any case. My…” She glanced up, belatedly realizing they were having a fairly intimate conversation in front of the doctor, but he had quietly left the room without them noticing.
“My…courses are never late and were due just after our wedding. And there have been signs. I’ve been tired and a few other things. After chatting with Mrs. DuVere…” She smiled again and shrugged, laying her hand lightly on her belly.
A grin pulled at Gray’s lips, though it didn’t quite form all the way, and she furrowed her forehead. “Are you…are you pleased?”
He raised startled eyes to hers. “I…” He paused for a second and then barked out a choked laugh. “I guess I just never pictured myself as having youngins. But…yeah…I think… Yes, I’m pleased.” He laid his hand over hers. “Are you?”
“Yes. Terrified,” she said with a little laugh. “But yes. Though…”
She frowned again, a nagging dread eating at the edges of her happiness.
“What is it?” He pulled her closer so she stood between his legs, half sitting on his lap so he could wrap his arms around her.
“Josiah…”
He pulled her against his chest and rested his head on hers. “He won’t bother us anymore. He’ll have to cool his heels in our jail cell for a day or two maybe, once Sunshine and Preacher get back with him. But I’ll ship him out as soon as we can get some men gathered, along with his gunman. They can explain their actions to the judge down south. And if the assassin wants to keep his neck from the rope, he’ll give up Josiah right quick.”
She sighed and leaned into him. “I hope so. I just wish it was all settled. It was one thing when it was just me he was threatening. But now there’s you…” She drew a gentle finger along the edge of his bandage. “And the baby…”
She was hardly able to get that word out. It seemed so foreign. So unconnected to anything in her life.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I do feel safer knowing the whole town is behind you. But…” She let out a shaky breath. “I will just rest easier when he’s behind bars. Preferably far away from us.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know. I promise you, I won’t let him harm either of you. Even if I have to go back to shooting people during my retirement. If ever someone deserved it, it’s him.”
Gray’s eyebrows suddenly shot up to his hairline. “I just realized that if I have to stay home and take it easy for a few days, I’ll be missing my midday meals from Martha.”
She gasped. “Oh, you! Just for that, I think I’ll feed you apple pie every day.”
He blanched in horror. “I’ll tattle on you to the doc. That’s nothing short of torture, and I’m sure there’s some law against treating prisoners inhumanely.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “So you’re my prisoner now?”
“Your willing prisoner,” he said with a wink.
“Ha!” She pushed away from him, but he didn’t let her get too far.
“You have to be gentle with me, woman. I’m injured.”
He pulled her back in, and she pursed her lips, trying to glare at him. But it was difficult to maintain an air of disapproval when he sat there with a bandaged head, his hair sticking up in all directions, looking at her like he was the most innocent angel to ever step foot on the earth.
She sighed and cupped his face. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of a few things,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes. “Your head is still bleeding, and the doctor told you to rest.”
He widened his eyes and rubbed his belly. “I meant that you could feed me. I missed my supper. You have such a wicked mind, Mrs. Woodson.”
