She turned on her heel and marched away through the barn as though oblivious to anything behind her.
The government-issue steel desk, two desk chairs, a table and a couple of file cabinets sat in a jumble in the middle of what would eventually be the cattle-operation office. An equally utilitarian steel credenza sat against the wall beside the door. She walked in, waited for Steve to pass her, then shut the door and set the computer on the credenza.
“Can you sit?”
“I’m not supposed to sit unless you do.”
“That wasn’t my question. Can you sit?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. How badly are you hurt?”
The lines around his mouth tightened, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not hurt.”
“Bull. Turn around.”
He didn’t move.
“I said, turn around.”
“Against the rules to be alone without a guard and the door closed.”
“Then we’ll leave the door ajar.” She opened the door a dozen inches and called to Selma, “This shouldn’t take but a couple of minutes. Okay with you?”
“Whatever,” Selma replied. “It’s your show, Doc, within limits.”
“Thanks. Now,” she said to Steve, “do as I asked, please.”
He turned around carefully.
“Assume the position if you can. Hands flat on the desk.”
He managed not to groan, but she heard the sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to do that, but it was the only way she knew to make certain he wouldn’t interfere with her examination.
She reached for his shirt and began to tug it out of the waistband of his jeans, pulling slowly and with infinite care.
“Stop that.”
“Shut up. I want to find out what’s wrong with you.”
His shirt came free and she lifted it as high as she could. She caught her breath. “Oh, my God, who did this to you?”
“I fell over a curb.”
“Newman. How many times did he hit you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Steve—” She couldn’t conceal the anguish in her voice. “Please sit down. Let me help you.”
She slipped under his armpit, put her arm across his back to his shoulder and lifted to take the weight off his hands. She felt the tension in his muscles, heard his breath sough in his chest. She tried to turn him so that she could slide one of the desk chairs under him.
“No. Forwards.”
She caught the chair with her left foot and pulled it across in front of him, then lowered him so that he straddled it. She sat in the other chair, knee to knee with him. He closed his eyes.
“I’ll get you to the infirmary, then I’ll go straight to the warden. I’ll have that bastard fired.”
Steve shook his head. “He’s civil service and union with high seniority. You can’t touch him.”
“But if the others saw it…”
“They didn’t see anything.”
Eleanor was certain he was lying.
“Why did he do it?”
“He doesn’t need a reason.”
“It’s because I humiliated him in front of the men, isn’t it? He took it out on you.”
He looked up and into her eyes. He wasn’t certain she recognized the connection between them. Newman had certainly picked up on it. He guessed the others were aware of it, as well.
He nodded. “Yeah, I think that was his reason.”
He had rested his hands on the back of the chair he sat in. She covered them with hers. They were warm and strong, and yet gentle. The touch flashed along his nerve endings.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, and snatched her hands away as though she had only that moment recognized the intimacy of the gesture. She stood up and moved to the back of the office to look out the single dirty window. “I wanted to make things better, not worse.”
He was so used to hearing only commands from his captors that the pain in her voice caught him off guard.
He longed to stand, go to her, tell her he’d survive, that it wasn’t her fault, that he’d had worse, but he didn’t think he could manage to stand without help. “Newman was looking for an excuse. You were only the trigger. It’s personal with him.”
“Because you’re not like the others.”
“I’m exactly like the others. Don’t ever forget that.”
“No, you’re not. I don’t know what you did that brought you here, but I know that Newman is a redneck who resents you because you’ve managed to keep your dignity even in this place. He can’t endure it.”
“Then I’m the one who has to endure it. If I make trouble, he’ll find some way to send me back to Big Mountain. I can’t—I don’t want that.”
He could see from her expression that she thought she understood that he didn’t want the soul-numbing life behind steel bars, that he preferred to serve his time in the open air. He let her think that was what he meant. He wasn’t certain whether she would be a help or a hindrance in his flight plan. She was already a distraction.
She sighed deeply, then said, “I’ll have to respect your wishes this time. You understand the dynamics of the place better than I do.” She squared her shoulders and became all business. “I wasn’t kidding about needing some computer help. I hope you weren’t kidding about knowing how to work the things.”
“I’ve had experience.” More experience than anyone within ten miles, probably.
“I need a database to keep track of the cattle program, start to finish. I know the basic information I need to be able to track—vaccinations, insemination and calving dates, that sort of thing. I know some of the ways it should be cross-referenced, but I have no idea how to set up the program. Can you do something like that?”
“Doesn’t sound too difficult.”
She nodded. “That’s a legitimate way of keeping you in here and sitting down for a couple of days. Since Lard Ass isn’t here, at least he won’t know about today.”
“He’ll know, all right.”
“It will still be my choice, not yours. I’m going to request that we keep Selma and find another job for Newman. If he does come back, I’ll put the fear of God and the warden into him.”
He caught her hand. She drew in her breath sharply, braced against him.
“You will not.” It was the voice of command. He hadn’t used it in three years. Amazing how quickly it came back.
“Let go of me,” she said softly.
“Sorry.” He released her and struggled to his feet.
He could see from her eyes that she was suddenly uncomfortable with him, perhaps even a little afraid. He dropped his hands. “I apologize. But I’ve got to make you see that you can’t interfere with Newman on my behalf or the behalf of any of the other men.”
“Of course I can. He’s a stupid man.”
“He’s a sadistic bastard,