Once Bitten: Twice Mad

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Frankie groaned with pain as her eyes fluttered open and were assaulted by the sunlight coming through the twisted white curtain. She moved her leg and felt a bolt of pain shoot through it causing her to wonder if that damn Silas really knew what he was talking about. He claimed she'd just stubbed her leg up real good when she'd landed on it and that she'd sprained her ankle.

All Frankie knew was that it hurt damned bad.

And her side? She groaned. She didn't even want to think about her tight, burning side.

She glanced to her left and nearly cried out as she flung out her arm, reaching for the gun on the side table. Her heart was beating out of her chest as her hand slowly relaxed and she realized that the ash covered indian in the corner was Comanche.

Tenderness filled her at the sight of her injun and then she mentally slapped herself and pushed herself up on the headboard until she was sitting up. Just that simple movement had sweat slicking her skin and pain radiating through her side and leg.

Frankie took in a sharp suck of air through her teeth and Comanche's eyes flew open and landed on her.

The man looked confused and lost. He had all that ash covering his chest and face and a red headband with what looked like several chicken feathers stuck in it, around his head. He wore only a pair of buckskin pants and he was barefoot.

"Paleface?" he whispered quietly as he rolled his shoulder and rubbed at it painfully. "What are you doing here?"

"I came back last night because I got hurt, Comanche, don't you remember? You threatened to fight Evangeline, then Ox, then the bed, Silas a couple of times and I believe you even had a vendetta against the wardrobe."

This simply seemed to confuse Comanche more as he pushed himself to his feet and his brow furrowed. "I do not remember any of that."

"No you wouldn't. You had a good full bottle of whiskey in you."

Comanche appeared thoughtful for a moment and then nodded, once again rubbing his shoulder. "Liquid ambrosia."

Frankie snorted. "Liquid foolishness." She countered. Anger flashed in Comanche's dark eyes at her words and he headed toward the door, stopping on the threshold.

"How badly are you injured?"

Frankie would be lying she said her feelings weren't hurt. His tone was so cold. He hadn't smiled at her or seemed happy she was back. And now he was simply leaving the room instead of staying around to try to tend to her like he would have done in the past.

"My ankle is sprained and I got grazed by a bullet but neither is real serious just damned painful."

"I am sure you will be fine then." He replied without looking at her and then, just like that, he was gone leaving Frankie to wonder what that ache was deep in the pit of her chest.

***

Comanche was angry as he made his way down the staircase. How dare Frankie just reappear and act as if he should be happy to see her. Happy? The woman had told him he meant nothing and then walked away from him. The only reason she was back now was because she'd been injured or else Comanche had no doubts he would have never seen her again.

Happy. Ha! He wasn't happy to see her at all.

'"Good morning, Comanche." Charlotte said brightly as Comanche walked into the kitchen, his stomach growling hungrily at the sight of the steaming pot of stew in the center of the table.