Give Me Tonight

back to the boghole. '

'Why do you seem so pleased about it?' she asked, tight-lipped. 'And why do you let him say such things to your daughter?'

'For one thing, when it comes to Ben Hunter, you take up for yourself better than I could. For another, you'd turn on me like a tornado if I broke in. You like to trade words with him. Hell, I like to trade words with him too. Difference is, you can get him mad and I can't. I like to see him mad every once in a while. Good for a man to have a flare-up every now and again. Not easy to get a rise outta him. Fact is, you're the only one who can do it right. He's as short as a pie crust around you.'

'I don't do it on purpose,' she muttered. God knew there was no reason for her to provoke Ben. It didn't help her cause any. If only she could swallow the sharp words that came to the tip of her tongue when Ben spoke to her. How much of an advantage she would have if she could stay cool and calm while he was angry! But she couldn't keep silent or cool, not when his mere presence filled her with such tension. She couldn't control her feelings when Ben was near. She found herself saying things she couldn't hold in. He brought out the worst in her, and it seemed she brought out the worst in him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent shout from Russell, who had leaned forward in his saddle 'Hey! That steer's turned on em-someone dump him!'

Addie's eyes widened with alarm as she saw what had happened. As soon as the steer had struggled out of the boghole, it angrily turned its horns against its rescuers, enraged and ready to do battle. The huge horns shook threateningly at the man closest by. Quickly the steer lunged, powerful muscles bunching under the mud-encrusted hide, and all Addie could see was a flurry of motion. There was a short scream from the cowboy as he was wounded. Ropes were swung to catch the steer and hold him fast, but in the dust and frenzy the lassos missed their mark. Addie cried out as she saw the red gleam of blood and the rag-doll limpness of the boy as he fell.

Maddened by the snap of whirling ropes, the steer twisted sideways. Ben dived at the crumpled figure on the ground, catching at the leg of his chaps and pulling him away from the animal. The steer followed the movement quickly, his head bent to plunge forward in pursuit of the body sliding through the dust.

'Dump him!' Ben shouted hoarsely, but another rope failed to catch one of the longhorn's legs. His voice pierced the air. 'Oh, shit. ' Someone threw Ben a rifle, which smacked heavily in to his palms. Holding it by the barrel, he raised it in the air. Addie's heart stopped as she understood what he intended.

'Daddy,' she whispered, wondering why no one was going to shoot the steer. She heard no sound from Russell.

Ben's body arched as he raised the makeshift club higher, and with a sharp, vicious movement he brought it down on the longhorn's forehead. The animal dropped without a sound, crashing to the ground, momentum causing it to slide forward until Ben was forced to scuttle backward. The point of a horn came to rest near his booted foot. Then Ben was motionless, staring at the twitching longhorn. There was silence in the pasture. 'Couldn't anyone around here manage a head catch?' Ben finally asked of no one in particular, sighing as he went to the boy on the ground.

'Did you kill him?' Russ asked, dismounting from General Cotton.

'No. Just stunned him a little. He won't be giving anyone trouble for a while.'

'How's the boy?'

Addie was having trouble calming Jessie's attack of nerves. As soon as the horse's skittishness was under control, she dismounted and left the reins hanging.

'Not good,' Ben said grimly. 'A couple of punctures in his side, and a head wound that's going to need some stitches. Watts, get me a needle and thread. The rest of you get back to work. There's a considerable number of animals out there needing to be doctored. '

'Daddy,' Addie asked Russell quietly, 'do you have any liquor on you?'

'Always.' He pulled a monogrammed silver flask out of one of his many vest pockets and handed it to her with a grin. 'Whiskey okay?'

'Perfect.'

She shook the flask, trying to judge by the slosh how much liquor there was inside, and headed toward the men on the ground. Ben pressed a wad of cloth to the unconscious boy's side and scowled as he saw Addie walking toward him. 'For God's sake, get back to your horse,' he snapped. 'And try not to faint.'

'Fainting is the last thing I have in mind,' she said shortly, coming over to the boy and kneeling beside him. For once she knew exactly how to handle the situation. Oh, how she longed to cut Ben down with the news that she had worked as a nurse for the past three years! 'You didn't ask for an antiseptic. Whiskey'll do fine.'

He took the flask from her with one hand while clamping a folded handkerchief on the wound with the other. 'Good. Your help is appreciated. Now get out of the way.'

Addie had to hold her ground. She remained where she was, suddenly desperate to help. Somehow, on the vast land encompassed by the borders of the Sunrise Ranch, in the midst of strangers and their confusing rituals, among the short-tempered men and the sea of animals, she had found something she knew how to do. She knew how to tend to a wound, she had been one of the best nurses in the hospital when it came to an emergency. No one could find fault with her bandaging and stitching. But Ben didn't know that, and he intended to stand in her way. Addie had to prove to someone, to herself, that she was useful. She could belong. She had to be given the chance to show it.

'I can help,' she said. 'I'm going to stay.'

Ben dropped the flask and caught her wrist in a crushing grip. 'I'll say this only once,' he said through gritted teeth. 'This isn't the time for you to play ministering angel. He doesn't need his hand held. He doesn't need you to coo over him and flutter your eyelashes. So move your sweet ass over there and stay out of the way, or I'll drag you away by the hair. And I don't care if Daddy sees or not.'

'Take your hand off me,' Addie hissed, her eyes gleaming with fury. 'Are you planning to stitch up his wound with those dirty paws? I know more about this than you'll ever hope to know. Do you think I'd offer to do it if I didn't? Let go! And if you want to be of any help, open that flask and give me that bandanna around your neck. '

His eyes were hard and searching as they met hers.

She saw the flash of anger, and then the beginnings of curiosity. Slowly his hand uncurled from her wrist.

'Every stitch better be perfect,' he said, his voice menacing in its quietness. 'And if you aren't able to back up your words, you'll answer to me. Understand?'

She nodded shortly while a wash of relief loosened the tightness in her chest. 'What kind of thread is Watts bringing?' She dampened the bandanna with whiskey and blotted the wound. 'Cheap cotton, I'll bet.'

'We can't all afford silk.' Ben sneered.

'I can. Do you have a knife?'

'For what?'

'Do you have a knife?' she repeated impatiently.

He reached down to his belt and unsheathed a gleaming bowie, giving it to her handle-first. She burrowed under the hem of her riding skirt, extended a leg, and cut one of the pink ribbons threaded through the lace border of her pantaloons. At the glimpse of the shapely calf that rose from the edge of her boot, several of the men who had lingered several yards away to watch began to mutter and exclaim among themselves.

'Jesus. That little display will be talked about in the bunkhouse for years to come,' Ben muttered, sounding peculiarly strained.

'What do you mean?' she asked, flipping her hem back down and turning her attention to the ribbon. Expertly she stripped a thread from it. 'Oh, you mean showing my leg.' Her voice dripped with sarcasm. 'Heavens, I didn't remember my modesty is much more important than helping a wounded man. Such unladylike behavior-but surely I haven't shocked you, Mr. Hunter.' Her mocking smile faded as she