I stalled for a moment, embarrassed to swoon like I was weak and still a little freaked out by all the people he hanged. Maybe there was some damage done to me from time travel, or maybe it was the intensity of feelings and memories that weren't mine. I felt claustrophobic despite the open skies and land of the Old West.
"Let me help you." The sheriff knelt and wrapped an arm around me.
His scent snapped my attention out of my mind. Horse leathers, dust, sweat - and dark male musk tainted by a hint of sweetness.
I breathed deeply and said nothing, a little too aware of the warmth and solidness of his body as he easily stood with me tucked against him. I was no stranger to men's bodies or touch, but this was different. Better. Almost familiar, like his scent, John and Carter. Aside from the fact he was sexy as sin, his eyes were absolutely stunning.
Staring up at him, I didn't realize I had been leaning into his hard, wiry frame too long until he lifted his eyes to mine. The arresting, light green depths were as intriguing as his scent. His face was shaven, the high cheekbones, a sign of his mixed heritage casting hollows in his cheeks.
No memories. Nell stood two feet from me, her memories flowing freely, but there was nothing from the sheriff's direction.
He cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable holding me. "Can you walk, ma'am?" he asked.
His tested politeness heightened my awareness and the desire not to sit down with him and talk.
"Yes. Sorry." I stepped away. "I, uh, am feeling not completely well."
How long had I been staring up at the sheriff like a lovesick fool? Long enough for Nell to notice. She was frowning fiercely. Her expressions left me no doubt as to the lecture she'd give me later about how a woman of my station was supposed to behave.
I wanted so badly to roll my eyes but didn't, instead occupying myself by dusting off my dress.
"If you'll come with me, ma'am, you can rest. We can have that talk I've been wanting to have with you, too," the sheriff said.
I froze. There was a guarded note in his voice, one that told me he wasn't about to take pity on me, even if I did just almost pass out.
"I think I need to return home and rest, sheriff," I managed.
"It wasn't a choice, ma'am." He offered his arm.
Dammit. I forced a smile, though. "Then I'd be delighted." If he caught the sarcasm in my tone, he didn't react.