She checked him over to make sure he'd survived the terrible beating the men gave him in the woods.
Bruises covered his face, around an eye and along part of his jawline, mostly hidden by his beard and she knew she'd find them underneath his clothes.
Joseph read his litany of injuries including cracked ribs, a sprained hand and some dizziness from where his head hit the ground more than once.
She'd stroked his face ever so carefully, palming it to allow her to examine it even closer. The angriness of the welts on his neck almost made her cry. That and the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her once her fear subsided.
Ethan had somehow gotten himself dressed and on a horse to ride out to her rescue not even knowing where she might be or the men had taken her.
A needle in a haystack and yet he'd homed in on her and found her and Joseph just in time. The four laid off miners, who'd started out drinking their sorrows and graduated to assault and kidnapping had the two of them cornered inside an old barn with only a pitchfork and a survival instinct finely honed by life experiences to protect them.
Soon enough two of the men were dead and the other ran off like cowards once the core of their madness had dissolved.
It was more than a day's ride back for a man with broken ribs so the man and his son that lived in the house had given them directions to a nearby town with a boarding house. Joseph had ridden back to Paradise with the other men in the posse and that left the two of them alone.
"Ethan you get into bed and don't argue with me."
Now she got to be the boss after they'd walked inside the small room, with a bedroom, a bureau for clothing and an area to wash up.
"Who's arguing? As long as I'm not the only one," he said, "there's room enough for both of us."
She couldn't believe he was even suggesting it. But a chill fell over her and she flashed back to what it'd been like when she'd been held captive by the men. What Ethan might ask for in the most welcome of ways, the men had tried to take from her.
They'd bruised her as well and she'd looked a fright, her hair in disarray and her clothes torn. But that was the part of her experience she wore on the outside.
She shook her head with only a hint of a smile and walked towards the window to look outside of it. Ethan, his chest bare save for the binding to wrap his ribs, sat on the bed. She'd been cleaning him up where he'd let her and he'd been quiet enough.
"Where you going to sleep then Amelia," he said, "I know you haven't slept at all."
She felt as tired as she looked and her muscles tightened to the point where if she were touched, she might cry out. But more than that…she didn't want anyone near her right now…and yet she didn't want to be alone.
"I'm fine Ethan…you're the one who's been hurt and needs rest."
His eyes followed her as she paced the room unable to remain still. If she did, her memories might catch up with her and she couldn't allow that in front of him.
"I don't believe that Amelia," he said, "You look exhausted and those men…they deserved what they got."
"I know that…I wanted to kill them myself," she said, "but all I could think about doing was not getting them upset enough to…"
His voice turned gentle.
"Hurt you?"
She shied away from that phrasing…a euphemism for something much worse. He had asked her more delicately than she thought him capable about the obvious and she'd simply shaken her head as a response.
Words didn't come to her easily.
"There's different ways to hurt someone."
He got himself on his feet though not easily and stepped towards her. She just looked at him, trying not to look at the purple splotches which the bandages couldn't completely hide.
"You know what I mean."
Her voice didn't waver.
"Yes I do…and my answer stands."
Those words took too much out of her and she felt herself weaken. What had kept her alive and one step ahead of the men most of the time had left her, ebbing away and leaving her barely standing. He took that one step closer.
"Amelia come on…we both need to get some rest," he said, "Remember what you once told me, and I'll keep my hands to myself."
She felt the lump in her throat.
"Okay…but I'm holding you to that."
He took her hand in his own and led her back to the wide sized bed and when he gently lay his sore body down on it, she joined him. She lay closer beside him than she thought possible but she'd felt suddenly cold and needed to feel warm again.
He slipped his arm around her without asking and she rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat resonating in her ear. She'd spent the past day or so running, running and not allowing herself to stop from the men who pursued her tirelessly. Her body wouldn't quickly forget the way their hands had grabbed her, pawed her and how they likely would have killed her after they were done.
The world could be such a dangerous, volatile place for a woman in ways far different than a man.
That was the part of living…especially on her own that she'd never gotten over... That she was looked at as a commodity to be used rather than a person. The man lying next to her wanted her out of love but he'd have to be patient.
"You go to sleep now Amelia," he said, "The both of us that's what we need. The rest can wait."
Talk about a loaded group of words but she understood the meaning. It was why for the first time and one unhappy marriage later she'd done something she'd never done before in her life.
She'd fallen in love.
As he tightened his hold on her just before drifting off, she realized the feeling including the wonder of it all, was mutual.