The broken she-wolf - Healed by innocence

A pain in his …

*Blaise*

The dog bounds across the yard and leaps up on my chest, his huge paws wet and muddy. I scratch him behind the ears. "If you're her protector, you need to do a better job of protecting her from me."

The dog falls to all fours and gazes up at me as though measuring my worth. Then he barks and scampers away to chase a butterfly.

I stride into the barn. Sunlight streams through the holes. Black Thunder nickers. I rub the stallion's nose. "So she's taking good care of you, too, is she?"

I glance around the run-down structure. Severed and ragged at the end, a rope hangs from a beam. I wonder what keeps a lone she-wolf living here. Why doesn't she pack up and move into town? I had been teasing her when I mentioned repairing the barn, but I'm not certain I can chop enough wood to repay my debt.

I retrieve a rope halter that's hanging on the wall and slip it onto Black Thunder before leading the stallion into the sunshine. At the corral, I bend and bring the horse’s foreleg up between my knees. I study the festering wound and wonder if my back had looked this nasty when Miss Greenmedow had tended it.

Releasing the foreleg, I know I won't be traveling today. I look toward the house. The dog has either captured the butterfly or given up because he is stretched out beneath the shade of a distant tree. A weakness settles in my legs. It galls me to have to admit Lillian may have been right… I'm not quite recovered.

I amble to the tree. Always watchful, the dog opens an eye and closes it. A flash of yellow catches my attention and I shift my gaze. I lean against the rough tree trunk. A strange sense of contentment steals over me as I watch Lillian stand in the middle of a vegetable garden with a fawn nibbling something out of her cupped palm. Three other deer tear up the growing foliage. A family, I muse, and discontentment edges the peacefulness aside.

"I could string up some barbed wire for you," I say.

The deer bound into the thick grove of trees. Lillian turns, her lightly golden brows drawn tightly together. "Why would I need barbed wire?"

"To protect your garden. Keep the pesky critters away." I say.

She looks toward the trees where the deer had disappeared. "They aren't pesky, and I always grow more than I need." She walks toward me, eyeing me suspiciously. "How are you feeling?"

Like I have fallen from my horse, caught my foot in the stirrup, and been dragged across the state.

"A little tired. Do you have any kerosene? My horse's hoof is festering. I need to tend it." I say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think to check his hoof." She looks upset.

I shake my head, "You shouldn't have to be concerned with my horse at all."

Or with me. I have shown her far more of myself than I wanted her to see. She is a stranger, but I have disconcerting memories of telling her things...

I follow her into the house and retrieve my knife from my saddlebag while she finds the kerosene. By the time I return outside, she's waiting beside Black Thunder, stroking the horse's mane.

Stepping away from the stallion, I notice her gaze drop to the knife I hold. "Do you want me to hold his head?"

"It's not necessary. He is well trained." Giving the horse my backside, I bring the hoof up between my knees and dig the knife into the wound. I hear a whinny just before the sharp pain ricochets through my butt. I drop the hoof and jump away from the horse. "Son of a! Damn!"

I rub my backside while glaring at the horse that tosses its head like a she-wolf might tilt her nose with indignation. Then I hear the laughter.

Light and airy, like a star drifting down from the heavens. I turn my attention to her. She has pressed her fingers against her lips, but I see the corners of her mouth tilting up, carrying her smile to her eyes, shining like a golden coin. "You think it's funny, Miss Greenmedow?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "No, Beta Moonshadow. It's just not what I would have trained him to do."

A bubble of laughter escapes from between her lips and it touches a chord of warmth deep within my chest. "Believe me, he picked that trick up while I was gone."

She drops her hand, and I watch as she fights to contain her smile. "You just don't seem to have any luck."

"Oh, I have luck, Miss Greenmedow. Unfortunately, it's all bad." I say.

Her smile withers. "I'm sorry."

"You aren't the cause of it." I jerk my thumb toward the horse. "I'll hold his head if you will rub the kerosene into his hoof."

I grab the halter on either side of Black Thunder's head. When Lillian bends to grab the hoof, I almost thank the horse for nipping me. Her skirt lifts to reveal her bare ankles and pulls taut across her backside. How in the hell had I mistaken her for a boy yesterday? My fever must have addled my brain.

Lillian Greenmedow is a tiny bundle of delicate femininity. Just as she had at the stove, she sways her hips slightly with the motion of her hand, rubbing the kerosene into the horse's hoof. Sweet Goddess, it's pure torture to watch, to imagine that backside pressed against me, circling.

She drops the hoof, straightens, and faces me. "Is there anything else I need to do for the horse?"

I swallow hard and unclench my fingers from around the halter. "Nope."

She lowers her gaze and draws a wiggly line in the dirt with her big toe. "I should probably…" she glances up quickly, then down, "…check your backside, make sure he didn't break the skin…" She lifts her gaze. "You don't want to get an infection…" she waves her hand limply in the air "…back there."

I smile warmly. "No, ma'am, I surely don't. I swear, Miss Greenmedow, when I stopped here yesterday, I had no intention of putting you to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble, Beta Moonshadow. Besides, I will put the tincture of iodine on it to begin with so it shouldn't fester at all."

I watch her hurry to the house and decide it's a good thing that the medication burns hotter than hell. Otherwise, I don't know how I would endure her gentle fingers touching my backside without my body reacting and making a fool of me.