Head in the Clouds

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Head in the Clouds Page 24

by Karen Witemeyer


  His housekeeper blushed and tears filled her eyes. “Of course, sir.” She bobbed a curtsy, then turned to the cook and cleared her throat. “Mabel, I could use some help with the dishes in the dining room.”

  Mrs. Chalmers disappeared through the connecting door, and Mrs. Garrett followed without the slightest complaint over being thrown out of her own kitchen. Strange how that uncharacteristic bit of docility depressed him. Did no one have the pluck to stand up for him, to offer him a glimmer of hope? Defeat seemed to have settled over Westcott Cottage while he’d been unconscious.

  Yet who was he to demand hope from others when he couldn’t claim it himself? If it didn’t hurt so much to move, he’d have banged his head against the table in frustration.

  Had Addie given up on him, too? The very thought brought a moan to his lips that had nothing to do with his injury. But then visions filled his mind of his little spitfire, dressed in yellow with her mouth pulled in a tight line of determination. No. Addie was a fighter. He remembered her laboring over his wound and ordering James around like a general, refusing to surrender. If anyone could bring him back from the brink of death, it would be Addie. However, in the event a miracle did not come his way, he intended to do everything in his power to protect her and Bella.

  “Chalmers?” Gideon said.

  “Here, sir.” The butler stepped up to the table.

  He tried to turn toward the man, but pain surged through his middle, stealing his breath and, for a moment, his thoughts. Gideon closed his eyes. He fought through the haze to recapture his plan.

  “Sir?”

  “Fetch … pen and ink from my study … and several sheets of writing paper.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  James lowered himself into a chair and gripped the edge of the tabletop. “You don’t have to do this now, Gid. You need to conserve your strength. The papers can wait.”

  “No. They can’t.” Gideon’s eyes bored into those of his friend. “You know my chances, James. Slim at best. Petchey … is still out there. The moment I’m gone, he’ll sweep Bella away. Can’t … let that happen.”

  A spasm caught him unaware, and Gideon bit back a cry. He latched onto James’s wrist and ground his teeth. When it passed, his jaw relaxed, but he did not let up his grip on his friend’s arm.

  “I need you to … compose a new will for me. Name Adelaide my sole beneficiary and … Bella’s guardian. Then draft a marriage certificate.”

  James shrank back, his brow creased. “A what?”

  “Marriage certificate.”

  The lawyer shifted in his seat. “You’re serious.”

  “Yes.” Gideon released his friend’s wrist and sighed. “It’s … best solution.”

  “Look, Gid. I know you’ve developed feelings for the girl, but this is ridiculous.” James pushed to his feet and paced the length of the table, a dark frown attesting to his opinion of the idea. “Just leave her the house, the money, and Isabella. You don’t have to put her through a sham of a ceremony. Think of Adelaide. It’s cruel to ask a woman to marry you when you’ll most likely make her a widow inside of a week.”

  A look of horror crossed James’s face as he realized what he’d said. “I didn’t mean …”

  “It’s true.” Gideon wasn’t insulted. It was almost a relief to have someone speak the words for him. However, he needed James’s cooperation. He had to make him understand.

  “I am thinking of Addie. She has no father, no brothers to watch out for her. If Petchey was willing to kill me to get to Bella, what’s … going to stop him from doing the same to Addie when … I’m gone?”

  James lowered himself back onto the chair. “I would look out for her, Gid. You know that.”

  “But for how long? You have a life, a business back in Fort Worth. Even without Petchey to deal with … I wouldn’t want to leave Addie and Bella alone out here. As my widow, she’ll have a place in my family’s home, the protection of my father and brothers. They can come and … and fetch her and Bella back to England. See to their financial needs. Their physical safety.”

  Gideon clenched his jaw and rolled toward his friend, bracing himself up on one elbow. The authority bred into him since the day of his birth surged to the surface, overriding his pain.

  “Write to them, James. Tell them to come. I’ll need you to stay on until they arrive, but once they’re here, they’ll take care of Addie. She told me once that she longed to replace the family she lost. I can give her that, James. I will … give her that.”

  “You’re set on this?” James asked.

  “Yes.”

  James favored him with a sharp nod. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you,” Gideon said. “Marriage will strengthen Addie’s claim to Bella, tie her to me and therefore to Lady Petchey’s original choice of guardian. She and Bella need to stay together. If I die, I don’t think Bella could handle losing Adelaide, too.”

  He swallowed hard and forced his mind away from the grim picture that thought conjured. Instead, he dwelt on memories of childish squeals and feminine laughter as Addie and Bella played one of their silly games of pretend. Addie with her sparkling hazel eyes and sunny disposition. Hair that flew on the wind as she raced her mare over the hills, and a courage that boldly faced whatever danger threatened those she loved.

  Gideon could imagine no better way to leave this world than to know that, for a time, Adelaide had been his.

  “I have the items you requested, sir.” Chalmers shuffled into the room and handed James the paper, pen, and ink. Then he helped ease Gideon down until he lay flat on the table again.

  Gideon was glad for the assistance. Now that James stood hunched over the corner cupboard, using its work surface as a makeshift desk while he penned the necessary documents, the drive that had kept Gideon pressing forward deserted him, leaving him weaker than a newborn lamb.

  “The doctor should be here soon, sir.” Chalmers hovered above him, looking like he desperately wanted another task to complete so he wouldn’t be left standing around, wringing his hands. “Can I get you a blanket or some cushions to make you more comfortable?”

  Gideon nearly growled at the thought of Chalmers jostling him around, trying to poke pillows beneath him. “Just … want to … lie still for a while.”

  The butler’s face fell.

  Gideon took pity on him. “But might be good to … have some on hand.”

  Just then, a small indrawn breath echoed from the doorway. Gideon stilled.

  “It worked, Miss Addie.”

  His heart skipped a beat at the childish voice. Why hadn’t he let Chalmers stuff a batch of cushions behind his head so he could see with his eyes what his ears told him was true? He tried to lift his head, but couldn’t get his shoulders off the table. Frustration coursed through him, but the voice came again, soothing his soul with its quiet assurance.

  “See? He’s better.”

  Moisture collected at the corners of his eyes.

  “Bella?”

  Chapter 31

  Gideon hadn’t heard that cherubic voice in nearly six months, and now that Isabella was finally speaking, he was stuck flat on his back, unable to see her.

  “Chalmers, prop me up, man. My daughter’s talking.” Gideon impatiently wagged a hand at the butler.

  Not having anything readily available for propping purposes, Chalmers wedged his arms under Gideon’s shoulder blades. Gideon mentally braced himself for the pain, determined not to frighten Bella, and gritted his teeth as Chalmers hefted him a few inches off the table. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

  Addie and Bella walked hand-in-hand into the room, like two angels come to welcome him home. They approached his side, and as he watched, Bella’s lips formed one sweet word after another.

  “We prayed for you, Papa Gidyon, and you waked up.” A tentative smile flitted across her face, as if she was still trying to sort things out in her mind. Then her gaze left his face to roam over the bandages at his middle. “
Are the hurts all gone?”

  “No, sweetie,” Gideon said. “But hearing your pretty voice … makes them feel much better.”

  The bud of a smile that lingered on her face blossomed into a full-fledged bloom. “Miss Addie says it’s my job to make your insides happy and ’courage you. Am I doing it right?”

  A small chuckle escaped Gideon, followed by red-hot pain. He’d have to remember not to do that. He closed his eyes to regain control, inhaled a slow, steadying breath, and looked back at Bella.

  “Seeing you smile and hearing you speak is the best medicine I could get. It’s been so long, I was afraid I’d forgotten what you sounded like.”

  “I can sing you a song if you want, like I used to for Mama. Want to hear one now?”

  “Why don’t we wait until after the doctor comes,” Addie suggested. “Maybe you can sing Papa Gideon a lullaby tonight to help him fall asleep.” She glanced at him and winked. Gideon found himself enchanted all over again. Her clothes might be a wrinkled, mismatched mess, and strands of her hair might be sticking out at odd angles from the knot at her neck, but when he looked at her, he saw a princess.

  Now he just had to convince her to marry him.

  At some point during the conversation, Chalmers had lowered him back to the table and left the room without him noticing. No doubt he was searching for those spare pillows and blankets. It couldn’t have been too comfortable for the old fellow, squashed under his weight like that. Nevertheless, Gideon wished the man would hurry up. How was he supposed to propose properly if he couldn’t hold his head up?

  And in front of his daughter.

  Gideon sobered a bit. He hated to send Bella away after she had gifted him with so much hope, but swaying Addie was going to be hard enough as it was. An audience would only complicate matters. Plus, he would have to explain his reasons, and that would mean discussing the very real possibility of his demise—a subject much too bleak for one so tender.

  Clenching his jaw to combat the knife-sharp stinging in his gut as he moved, he lifted his hand and stroked the outside of Bella’s smooth cheek. “I’m looking forward to that song, little one. So much.”

  His hand started to fall away, his strength too depleted to even hold his arm up for more than a few seconds. Before it slipped completely, though, Adelaide clasped it. She gathered it near her waist and placed Bella’s hand on top of theirs. Three united as one. His family. Gideon looked into her eyes, and silent understanding passed between them. Her grip tightened slightly as if in agreement. She felt it, too.

  Gideon turned his attention back to his daughter. “Bella … I need to talk to Miss Addie about some grown-up things. Why don’t you ask Mrs. Chalmers to help you wash your face and get into your nightgown? That way, when the doctor finishes his examination, you can … sing me that song we talked about before you go to bed.”

  Bella’s face fell and her bottom lip protruded in the beginnings of a pout, but she nodded. She leaned in close and kissed his cheek as she did every night. Then for the first time, she whispered in his ear, “I love you, Papa Gidyon.”

  “I love you, too, Bella mine.” It was a miracle that he could choke the words past the sudden swelling in the back of his throat, but his daughter didn’t seem bothered by the strangled quality of his voice.

  She ran her fingertips against his whiskers as she pulled away, and joy radiated through him. Though he was lying on a hard-asrock table, with a hole in his belly that felt like a burning tunnel of brimstone, he could still say with untarnished certainty that God was good.

  Bella waved at him from the entrance to the dining room and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with Adelaide. A masculine cough echoed off to Gideon’s left. Well, not completely alone. He had forgotten about James.

  “I’ll finish this paperwork in the study, Gid.”

  The irksome fellow had the nerve to wink at him over a knowing grin as he walked by. Gideon stuffed down his annoyance and twisted his neck to look at Addie. Her back was to him as she poured a cup of water from the pitcher that sat atop the cupboard. He hoped that meant she had missed James’s rakish gesture.

  Addie pivoted to face him, and her shy smile seduced him with its innocence. His gaze followed those curved lips as she stepped closer. Too bad he didn’t feel up to stealing a kiss. What he wouldn’t give to linger over a slow, gentle caress—one that would communicate his feelings better than words.

  Addie leaned over him, her face inches from his. Had she read his mind? She reached behind his neck and lifted his head. His eyelids began to droop in anticipation. He puckered slightly, craving the feel of her warm lips upon his.

  “Just a little bit, now,” she murmured.

  His eyes slid closed and his lips pressed against cool metal. Cool metal?

  He opened his eyes at the same time she tipped the tin cup, dribbling a small portion of water into his dry mouth. Regaining his senses fast enough to keep from sputtering, he swallowed her offering along with his disappointment.

  After trickling half a cupful down his throat, she set the water aside and pulled a chair up to the table. She settled close to his side, with her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes seemed to have a hard time meeting his. They flitted over his chest, his forehead, the floor, until finally settling on her hands. Her fidgeting hands. Gideon smiled. She was as nervous as he was.

  He took a deep breath. “Addie, I need you to … do me a favor.”

  She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin to look directly at him. “Anything, Gideon.”

  “Marry me.”

  She froze mid-nod, a mask of shock slipping over her features. Her mouth hung slightly agape, and three tiny lines appeared between her eyebrows. She blinked several times but made no verbal response.

  Gideon clenched his fist. What an idiot! That had to be the worst proposal ever uttered. Just blurt it out as if he were asking her to pass the potatoes or something. What had happened to the famous Westcott charm? He hurried to rectify his mistake.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Her brow creased a little more. “You didn’t mean to ask me to marry you?”

  “No. Yes.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I meant to ask you to marry me, but I didn’t intend to be so abrupt about it.”

  “I see.”

  “No. I don’t think you do.” He was making a royal muck of the situation. “I meant what I said to you earlier, when you were … tending my wound. I care about you, Addie. Dearly. You and Bella mean more to me than anything. After I was shot, I asked God for only one thing—that he allow me to live long enough to see … that you and Bella were safe. Marrying me is the best way to do that.”

  He went on to explain all his well-rehearsed reasons, but with each rationale he offered, she retreated from him. She didn’t move physically, yet he could feel the distance growing between them. Her shoulders drooped. Her mouth dipped slightly at the corners. Her eyes lost some of their sparkle. It was as if he were watching her dreams die one by one, and he was the one wielding the weapon.

  “So you want me to marry you in order to ensure our protection.”

  “Yes. No. Partly.” Gideon growled and thumped his head against the table, welcoming the pain that came with his jerky movements. He deserved it.

  “Stop it, Gideon. You’ll hurt yourself. Stop.” She stood over him, her hands framing his face as she struggled to still his thrashing. Tears pooled in her eyes. He wished he knew if they were from his mess of words or from her concern for his health. Either way, he wanted to banish them.

  Logic hadn’t helped the situation, so he tossed aside all his pragmatic arguments and spoke from his heart. No longer caring if she thought him weak or foolish or desperate, he opened himself to her, letting her see the love in his eyes, praying it wasn’t too late.

  “Did you mean what you said, Addie? When I told you I loved you, you whispered something in my ear. Did … did you mean it?”

  Her face flushed pink, an
d for a moment panic set in. Had he imagined her fervent vow of love? Or worse, had she only said it to placate a dying man?

  She tried to look away, but his gaze followed her, not allowing her to escape his question. “Yes,” she said, ducking her head. “I meant it.”

  The fear coiled around his heart dissolved.

  “This isn’t how I wanted to do this, Addie. I planned to court you properly with flowers … and poetry and sunset rides by the river. Not lying flat on my back on a kitchen table. I’ve known for some time that I wanted to make you my wife, but I thought to wait until the problems with Petchey were resolved before speaking of my feelings. Now I wish I had said something sooner, for I’m afraid you don’t believe my love is real.”

  Gideon held his breath, waiting for her to offer some kind of confirmation. She said nothing. However, she did lift her gaze to meet his. He opened himself to her, letting her search his soul for the truth behind his words.

  “Wanting to protect you and Bella is only part of the reason I’m asking you to marry me. The smaller part. I don’t know if I have five hours or fifty years left on this earth, but I want to spend whatever time remains with you. I love you, Adelaide Proctor. With all my heart.”

  A tear fell on his chin. She moved her thumb across his jaw to wipe it away. It was soon replaced by another, and another. But he didn’t care. All he could see was the trembling smile that beamed above him.

  “You already own my heart, Gideon Westcott, and it is yours forever. But before I can give you my hand, I need some time—time to think and to pray. I thought to marry once before, but I followed my own instincts instead of waiting on the Lord’s guidance, and ended up lost in a hurtful wilderness of my own making. So even though my instincts are shouting at me to answer yes to your proposal, I can’t take that step yet. I need to seek the Lord’s will.”

  Humbled by her vow of love as well as her abiding faith, he nodded. If the Lord saw fit to give him this woman, he would cherish her with every breath he had left in his body.

 

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