Harnessed Passions

by Dee Jones

  He was in love with his wife; not the weekend or evening type of love but the whole heart wrenching, soul splitting kind of love. He had loved her since the first moment he laid eyes on her; her stubbornness, her temper, her long beautiful hair, even her fear of loving him all added up to the reason his heart beat. He would never be able to live, if she died.

  That thought took over the lump in his stomach, making the feeling of surprise and confusion turn to nauseous horror. He turned on his heels and headed back to the house. There was no way in hell he was going to lose her; not after all he'd just realized. He loved Julia and he was damn well going to keep her alive until he had the chance to tell her so.

  Chapter Twelve

  The doctor arrived shortly after five the next morning to find Julia lying beneath a tower of blankets, encasing her in the warmth of her own bed. Daniel had moved her upstairs just before dawn and now sat in a chair next to his young wife, speaking to her so gently the words were inaudible, only the tenderness in his tone a witness to his words. Julia’s breathing was labored and she suffered from frequent bouts of shaking and a fever that seemed to be getting higher as time passed.

  She had managed to stay alive throughout the long hours of the night, a miracle in itself, or so Dr. Stewart insisted who rubbed the grey stubble on his chin and yawned unconsciously as he walked into the room. He ignored the irritation on Daniel’s face as he approached the unconscious woman.

  "Where the hell have you been?" Daniel demanded, losing the control over of his pent up emotions.

  "I was delivering a baby," the old man explained, unaffected by his temper. "I couldn't exactly tell the mother to hold on while I came out here, now could I?" Daniel understood the doctor’s reasons, but it didn't make the situation any easier. Julia was still unconscious and could have easily died waiting for the damn fool!

  "Well now that you are here, take care of my wife."

  "I'll be happy to just as soon as you move so I can get near her. I can't examine her by telegraph, son." The old man made Daniel's temper rise with his attitude of common place, but Louise quickly stepped up behind Daniel and laid a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder.

  "Come on Daniel," she insisted. "Leave the doctor to his job." She escorted her son-in-law out of the room and into the hallway. “I’ll stay with her, you go get some coffee.” Louise closed the door to him before he had the chance to say another word.

  Daniel paced the long narrow hallway with Jeremy; glaring at the closed door. Neither one wanted any more coffee; they felt like they’d had enough to launch a ship. Anger, frustration and confusion all played havoc on their weary minds as each shuffle of their feet on the carpet echoed through the stillness. Daniel couldn’t stop thinking of Julia; her small weak body, her pale face, her soul wrenching gasps for air. The fear was mounting and he wanted to do was go to her, embrace her and cradle her in his arms, but that old man wouldn't let him near her!

  Harold and Margie arrived a few minutes after the doctor had, making the wait unbearably worse. They insisted that Daniel and Jeremy join them downstairs and practically drug them down into the dining room while Mrs. Lester took Harrison and Maggie and put them to bed in her room. The old grandfather clock in the entry ticked by the seconds and Daniel growled at the soft noise. It had only been twenty minutes since the doctor arrived and that was enough to aggravate his already raw nerves.

  "What the hell's taking so long?" Daniel demanded, looking up the long flight of stairs in the foyer. The others had taken up seats around the table, watching as Daniel began pacing back and forth again.

  "Just calm down Daniel," Harold began softly. "He'll let you know when he's done. You know the old saying, 'no news is good news'."

  "What the hell do you know about it?" Daniel's voice rang through the quite house. His anger was full blown and on the verge of eruption, and unfortunately his best friend just happened to be his nearest victim. "That's my wife up there damn it! I have a right to be with her."

  "Daniel quit shouting," Margie insisted firmly, walking over to him and stopping his pacing with a hand on his shoulder. "Julia is in good hands. You have to trust Dr. Stewart."

  Daniel was about to snap a snide remark to the woman when the sound of a door opened upstairs and Louise appeared, hurrying down the steps followed close behind by Bridget. The young maid ran down the hall towards the kitchen as Louise stepped into the dining room.

  "Well?" he demanded, anger still etching his tone.

  "She needs rest," Louise said, choking on the sobs threatening to steal her voice. She had considered herself to be a very strong woman and she was now facing the hardest challenge of her life. She had already lost her husband and there was a very real chance she could lose her only daughter as well.

  "The doctor said she's ingested a great deal of water and her lungs are very weak. If she doesn't improve soon..." the woman's throat closed on her, refusing to allow the words to come out. Her tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands. Jeremy rushed to his mother’s side, wrapping her in his strong arms as he closed his eyes to the grief tearing at his soul. She looked very much older than her years, Daniel thought as he walked to the doorway; her shoulders shook violently with her sorrow, her voice a soft whimper against her son’s shoulder. Daniel turned his gaze toward the foyer, staring blankly at the steps that blocked him from his wife; his wife; even the sound of that made his heart ache for her.

  "It's alright, Louise,” Margie said as her own voice began to shake softly while she tried to force a brave tone to it. She went to the older woman and knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her forearm.

  “Julia’s a strong woman,” Harold said after clearing his throat. “She’ll pull through this and she’ll be back to arguing with everyone, just like always."

  "The doctor said she could...die," the older woman choked out.

  "But she won't," Daniel said, his voice was filled with stern optimism and the sound of it made the eyes of those gathered around, turn and stare at him. "There isn’t a chance in hell I'm not going to let her go. Not after everything..." he stopped, realizing he was rambling and about to spill the beans of his newest discovery to everyone listening. He smiled gently to his mother-in-law. He wouldn't tell her he hadn't yet taken her daughter as his wife nor would he admit much he loved her; that was for Julia to hear first.

  The door upstairs opened again, this time the elderly frame of Dr. Stewart appeared on the stairs. In his hand he held his bag and he looked straight to Daniel as he stepped off the last stair and slipped his hat back on his head. The anguish on the younger man's face was visible, making the doctor's news seem even more painful.

  "Keep her warm and make certain she gets plenty of quiet. The next day or two will be critical. She swallowed a great deal of water and her lungs are very weak. If I thought she would survive the ride I'd take her into town to my office, but I doubt she'd make it that far." The man drew a deep breath and sighed. It had been a long night and it was beginning to look like a very long week.

  "I've ordered steam to be placed near her head. It will help her breathing and hopefully help us avoid pneumonia, but other than that it's up to her. I'll check back in on her this evening unless..." the man stopped and shrugged his shoulders. "I'll be back," he said again, following Harold, who showed him to the door.

  Daniel just stood there for a long minute staring unconsciously at the floor. He tried to be strong for Julia’s sake, but he found his fatigue slowly stripping away his strength and determination. He slowly stepped toward the stairs, unaware his legs were even moving. He found himself beside his wife in a few moments and knelt down on the floor at the side of her bed. He held her hand softly between his and sniffed back the tears her lifeless touch induced.

  "I'm here Princess," he told her quietly, leaning over and kissing her lips tenderly. He frowned at the heat that rose off her delicate face. "I'm never going to leave you," he promised. “I’ll be right here when you w
ake up.”

  The doctor had said a day or two. He could wait that long to tell her how he felt; he would wait an eternity if that was what it took, but she would know the truth and he would make certain she knew it was not her land he wanted to share, but her soul and her heart. He vowed silently that he would tell her the minute she opened her eyes. He silently took a seat in the chair beside the bed, holding the heat of her hand in his; he promised her again never to let her go. Not until the world stood still and time itself no longer existed would he find the strength to let her go.

  The hours ticked by at a snail's pace, but Daniel still refused to leave Julia's side. She remained unconscious fourteen hours after her accident. Her breathing was labored and shallow and her skin very warm and clammy. The game of waiting was beginning to wear on the nerves of everyone at Turner Stables. The entire household was silent, waiting for some sign that Julia would survive.

  Daniel would not allow anyone in her room outside of her mother and Bridget, who brought in boiling hot water every half hour. A large cast iron pot of water sat on the table next to Julia's head, another on the dresser, a third on the vanity and still another on a table the foot of the bed, brought up from the sitting room. The steam filled the room, making it feel more like the hot spas of Bath England, where Daniel had frequented so often in his younger years. When the doctor arrived later that evening, he was quite pleased his orders had been followed so explicitly. Everything seemed to be to Dr. Stewart’s liking, but Julia still remained in a state of unconsciousness.

  Louise tried to concentrate on her needle point down as she sat alone in the family room, but after several mistakes and pricks of her fingers she gave up and went to her own room. The hours were playing havoc with her mind and she was beginning to feel the tension weighing down on her. Several times she had snapped at those working in the silent house, irritated with the noise of supper cooking in the kitchen or the sound of horses in the fields. She had even gone so far as to tell Thompson to remove the old grandfather clock from the front hall, as it continued to count the hours with precise chiming.

  At least in her room she could pace the floor in peace, or sit by the window and watch the passing of time across the clear sky. She lay on the oversized bed and tried repeatedly to read her favorite stories by Edgar Allan Poe. After more than three attempts to read one page she tossed the book aside and began to pace the floors again. Waiting was never one of her favorite pastimes and right now it was proving to be a great ugly enemy, lurking just outside the realms of reason. An intruder she was ready to take her colt .45 to.

  Jeremy stayed in his room most of the time or out on the front porch. He thought about Julia and Daniel, he thought about his father and the will, he even thought about the life he had planned out for himself once he and Malinda were married. Nothing seemed to come together or make as much sense as it had a few short weeks ago. His sister lay in her room dying and he sat by feeling utterly helpless.

  He felt the swell of guilt riding his back like a demon driving him forward. If he had agreed to take over this place, if he had been a better son, perhaps Julia would have been able to return to Boston and this would never have happened. She’d be happily living the life she wanted for herself and he would be the one to follow their father’s insane design for the future. With a heavy sigh and straighten his shoulders, Jeremy stood and went up to his sister. Daniel had insisted nobody come into the room, he wanted everything to stay as quiet as possible, but by God he was going to relent on that order or be prepared to fight!

  Daniel rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his aching legs in front of him. He had been sitting in the same chair next to Julia's bedside, for the past four hours. He hadn't slept or had any nourishment whatsoever except for the coffee Bridget brought to him. Leaving his wife’s side was not an option.

  He looked at Julia still and quiet beneath the heavy layer of blankets. He could hear her breathing, so he knew she was still fighting, though her lungs labored to pull in air. the room was damp and hot with the humidity from the water, but it was nothing compared to the heavy thoughts weighing him down.

  Quietly, Daniel stood and began to pace the floor staring around at the silent walls. He had never really noticed this room before, with its pale blue curtains and white lace trim. The matching bedspread of blue satin lay on top of his wife who rested in a large four poster bed, and the newer Victorian style furnishings dotted the expanse of the thick brown carpeted room.

  Several oil paintings adorned the rich floral wallpapered walls, while a large fireplace encased in elegant Italian marble tiles stood between two long narrow French doors that opened up onto a veranda. Porcelain vases decorated the tops of dressers, while several glass oil lamps sat spread across the room.

  Along one side of the room next to the door that joined the private wash closet to the bedroom was a walk-in wardrobe with its many racks of dresses, cloaks, hats and shoes. Nearly a dozen drawers filled with stockings, petticoats and bloomers lined the interior walls of the wardrobe. Daniel thought about how his own clothes which remained spread across the room that joined the wash closet on the opposite wall.

  This was very much a female’s room; elegant and lavish and he couldn’t help but wonder how long Louise and Victor had occupied separate rooms or why. The couple he had grown to know over the past four years was loving, caring and seemed to be a perfect match. Rarely was one seen without the other, and they never spoke harshly to or about their spouse. This room just didn’t seem to fit the ideal lovers he had grown so fond of, but it was obviously designed for and used as a woman’s room.

  Daniel couldn't stand the torture of silence any longer as he looked back to his wife. Walking to the vanity, he picked up her silver hairbrush and returned to her side, sitting in the chair he had occupied for so long. He lifted the dark lengths of hair and began stroking the bristles through the tangled strands, until they were smooth and silky against his palms. The urge to touch her, to feel something besides the threat of death overpowered him and he began to speak to her.

  "I know you’re still angry with me,” he whispered awkwardly, his tone tear-clogged and his eyes moist as he stared at her. “But you have to admit; arguing is nearly as much fun sometimes as kissing.” He remained quiet for a few seconds as he continued to brush her hair, allowing the silky strands to slide through his fingers.

  “Talk to me my Little Princess," he pleaded softly, barely recognizing his own voice. "It's time you woke up. I need you Julia; I need to hear your voice." The emotion raked his tone as he struggled to keep his voice level.

  "Please Princess; open your eyes for me. Talk to me, yell at me, tell me to stay the hell away from you, just say something." There was only silence in the room when Daniel dropped Julia's hairbrush to the table next to the bed and cupped her cheeks gently in his hands.

  "Julia, if you open your eyes I promise to do everything you ask. I'll never touch you again, if that's what you want, or I'll never stop touching you; just please open your eyes and talk to me. I need you in my life, Princess. I'm nothing without you. If you want to go to Boston I'll let you, but please wake up."

  The soft knock at the door brought Daniel up short, finding his cheeks wet from tears he hadn't realized had spilled from his tired eyes. He wiped the moistness away with the back of his hand and went to the door, clearing the grief and sorrow from his throat. He opened it to find a very determined Jeremy staring at him.

  "I want to see my sister," he whispered, "and I won't take no for an answer. If you won't let me come in then I'll...I'll climb through the window." Daniel chuckled and stepped aside, waving him entrance.

  "How can I decline such determination," he whispered, in return. Jeremy stepped cautiously into the room, trying not to make any noise. Julia was still unconscious lying under a tower of blankets. Her hair had been braided and lay across her chest. Jeremy noticed the hairbrush next to the bed and looked to Daniel.

  "I couldn't resist," he said with a so
ft blush to his tanned cheeks, unaware he had braided his wife's hair as he spoke to her. It was Jeremy's turn to chuckle, as he neared the bed. He touched his sister's cheek gently and smiled back to Daniel.

  "She's warm," he replied awkwardly. "Last night she was burning up."

  "The steam's been helping I think, but we really won't know for a while yet, if the doctor is to be believed."

  "Have you had any sleep, or anything to eat?" Jeremy asked, looking at the man next to him. His chin was covered with the light stubble of a beard and his hair looked as though he'd spent several hours, running his hands through it. No doubt an accurate assumption, Jeremy thought silently. It was after all, what he himself had been doing the long hours that slowly passed by.

  "I'm not tired and I couldn't eat if I was forced to."

  "Why don't you go down and try to eat anyway. I'll stay with her for a while."

  "No, I'll stay. I want to be here when she wakes up." Daniel took his seat next to the bed again, folding his strong arms across his chest. The pain was etched on the man's handsome features, and for a long time he just stared at her, as though memorizing every single curve and line.

  "You're in love with her aren't you?" Jeremy asked, staring at the man next to him. Daniel didn't look up; he kept his gaze on the woman, but chuckled all the same.

  "Who would have imagined I would fall in love with my own wife?" he teased, then replied more seriously, "I can't live without her, Jeremy. She's everything to me."

  "You won't have to. Julia's a tough little filly, as father used to say. She'll pull through this just fine."

  Neither of them said another word as they sat there - Daniel in the chair and Jeremy at the foot of the bed - watching Julia sleep. Her breathing seemed to have eased a little since last night, but Daniel couldn't be sure, and until she opened her eyes or began to speak, all he could do was hope…and wait.