Give My Love to Rose(1st in Outlaw Series)

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Rose groaned as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her dry mouth. Her body felt sore and sluggish but the burning in her lungs seemed to have eased. She kept her eyes closed as a smile curved her lips.

Rose had had wonderful dreams.

She had dreamt of Marston. His strong arms had been holding her close as his deep voice whispered soothingly into her ear. His big hands had caressed her face and his breath had teased her hair. Rose had even dreamed that she had woken up and spoke to him once and he'd been warm and tender.

She frowned.

The dreams hadn't been wonderful, they'd been mean. Marston was gone.

Pushing thoughts of him away, Rose took stock of herself. She truly did feel a little better. She wondered how long she'd been lying in this bed. Her body was so weak, Rose didn't know if she would even have the strength to get up.

But she had to get up.

She had to cook Langley some breakfast and sew the pants for Old Man Tippler. The floors needed scrubbing and she had to chop more firewood.

Rose shifted on the bed and opened her eyes. Her mouth dropped open and she would have screamed if she could have managed a sound.

Sprawled in a chair beside the bed was Marston. His long, thick legs were stretched out in front of him and his hands were dragging the floor on either side of the chair. His bearded chin was resting on his chest and quiet snores filled the room.

There was blood on his arm, his clothes were dirty, torn and stained and he looked all around filthy as his brown hair lay over his brow and covered his ears.

Why was Marston here? And why had he snuck into her bedroom only to fall asleep in the chair?

Rose did her best to force her aching muscles to listen as she shifted upon the mattress. At the faint rustling of the sheets, Marston's golden eyes shot open and he was crouched beside her bed in an instant.

"Damn woman, but if you ain't a sight for sore eyes I don't know what is," he whispered. "It sure is good to see those blue eyes again. I didn't think you'd ever wake up."

Rose frowned. Marston sounded different. He didn't sound rough or cold or charming and slick. He sounded tender and caring just as he had in her dreams. He grabbed a glass of water and held it Rose's lips. She took several small sips and he pulled the glass away.

"Why are you here?" Rose asked, glancing toward the window and realizing it was dark... the lantern beside the bed illuminated the shadows in her room. Why was it dark? It should be morning!

She curled her nose as a horrific scent burned her senses. Then she realized the smell was coming from her and she nearly gagged.

What was going on....?

"You said if I was ever around I could stop by," Marston reminded her.

"Yes but why are you in my room? Why is it dark? And why do I smell like a hog lot?"

Marston brought his face close to hers and gazed into her eyes with a tenderness that caused her body to ache. She wondered what it would feel like to have Marston hold her close—then again he'd done so in her dreams and Rose was beginning to suspect that they hadn't only been dreams.

"I'm in your room because I was worried about you and couldn't force myself to leave it," Marston admitted. "And it's dark because that's what happens at night and I won't comment on the way you smell. I might be an outlaw but even I have manners."