McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [79]
Lorelei drew herself up on a swell of pure exasperated embarrassment. “You might have warned us that there were leeches in this pond,” she said.
“You didn’t ask and, anyway, we wouldn’t have known for sure. One thing about Texas—there can be some real nasty critters in the water. Snakes, for one, and flesh-eating fish.”
Lorelei suddenly felt dizzy. “Flesh-eating…?”
“They’ve been known to eat a whole cow in five minutes,” Holt said.
“Holt,” Rafe protested. “I believe that’s more than the lady really needs to be apprised of right now.”
Holt leaned in, his nose an inch from Lorelei’s. “Be glad it was leeches,” he whispered.
Lorelei trembled with rage, and a good bit of residual fear. “If you say one single thing about this, to anyone—”
Holt raised his eyebrows. His arms were folded, each of his hands tucked beneath the opposite elbow, as though to keep himself from touching her. “Oh, I won’t tell,” he said. “I like to keep my encounters with naked ladies to myself.” A corner of his mouth quirked with infuriating delight.
Lorelei longed to slap him, yearned for the release of her palm making contact with his smug face, but she restrained herself. For one thing, she feared she’d use up the last of her strength if she did, and for another, he had rescued her, woefully arrogant creature that he was.
She plopped down on a rock and picked up one of her shoes.
“I’d shake that out first, if I were you,” Holt said mildly.
A thrill of terror went through Lorelei.
“Could be a scorpion in there, or a tarantula.”
Lorelei peered into her shoe and then turned it upside down and shook it with all her might. Nothing fell out, but that wasn’t good enough. She banged the heel against the rock she was sitting on, which relieved some of her tension, and wrenched it onto her foot. While she went through the whole process again with the other shoe, Holt watched her with a sort of quizzical good humor.
“In two days we’ll be in Laredo,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to think some more about this whole ranching idea.”
Lorelei shot to her feet, wavered and slapped Holt’s hand away when he tried to steady her. “Don’t touch me!” she snarled.
He grinned. “Too late,” he said. “Like it or not, there’s been some touching done here tonight.”
Rafe hefted a dazed and speechless Melina to her feet. “That’ll do, Holt,” he said quietly. “Best we get back to camp before we run into some Comanches. They won’t be as easy to deal with as leeches.”
Holt ignored his brother and gestured for Lorelei to pass ahead of him. Rafe led, with Melina and Lorelei following.
“Sometimes leeches get such a good grip on a person’s hide that they have to be burned off with matches,” Holt said cordially. “One time, on the Brazos River—”
Rafe turned to catch Holt’s eye, glaring. He carried Melina’s borrowed rifle in one hand.
Holt shrugged affably. “Folks ought to know what they’re getting themselves into, in country like this,” he said. “Especially womenfolks.”
AN HOUR LATER, Lorelei lay under the wagon, cosseted in her bedroll. Tillie was sound asleep beside her, the little boy cuddled in her arms, and Melina rested on the other side of them, curled into a little ball and making a soft sniffling sound. The rest of the camp was quiet; except for the men keeping the first watch, everyone had apparently gone to sleep.
“Melina?” Lorelei whispered. “Are you all right?”
“I can still feel them on me,” Melina answered.
“Me, too,” Lorelei admitted. “Does it make you want to go back?”
“Go back where?” Melina murmured despairingly. “I don’t have a judge for a father, or a big house in San Antonio.”
Lorelei swallowed. “I don’t, either,” she said.
Melina sat up, taking care not to bump her head on the bottom of the wagon. “I’m sorry,” she told Lorelei, wiping her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just feeling sorry for myself, that’s all.”
Lorelei was in a forgiving mood, except when it came to Holt. Sure, he’d helped her with the leeches, but he’d been insufferable about it. If it hadn’t been