A few times during the night Cade heard Colleto mumbling followed by Annabelle’s reassurances that he’d be all right. Cade knew in his gut the man wouldn’t recover. He’d looked too diminished, and Cade had seen that look in many a man’s face during the war.
Cade and Ziggy had managed to swallow some food, and Cade had given Annabelle a plate of beans. Firewood kept the hearth crackling. The temperature had dropped considerably in the night, and Cade kept his coat and hat on just in case. He felt a need to be prepared for something, but he didn’t know what.
Deep into the night, Cade heard Colleto cry out—a strangled sound of anguish that curdled the blood and chilled everything inside him. Cade and Ziggy jumped to their feet and they both rushed into the bedroom. Annabelle’s eyes held fear, her breathing coming fast as she tried to restrain Colleto. Wild-eyed, blood dribbling from his mouth, Colleto almost threw her off his thrashing body. Cade and Ziggy surged forward to help her, holding the man’s arms and legs.
“What’s happening to him?” Cade asked over the man’s incoherent, pain-filled cries.
“Horrible pain, delirium.” Annabelle shook her head. Her eyes looked moist. “He’s been gasping for breath. The laudanum I gave him isn’t helping.”
He knew she wouldn’t say what they all understood. A moment later the man stopped thrashing and went horribly still. All Cade could hear was a deep sigh, a rattle in the man’s chest. Then, nothing. Cade didn’t need a nurse to tell him what had happened. Although Colleto’s eyes had closed, he wouldn’t be waking from this slumber. All three of them stepped back from his body. The silence held a new feeling—a reverence and respect, a deep sadness for a lost comrade.
When Cade looked over at Ziggy, the man’s arrogance had disappeared. Fear clouded the cocky man’s eyes. “Jesus,” Ziggy said. He left the room.
Cade came around the side of the bed to Annabelle. Without a word, he drew her into his arms, and she nestled into his embrace. He held her tightly, nothing in his vocabulary sufficient to express his sorrow for the fallen soldier. He rubbed her back, felt shudders go through her slim frame When he drew back slightly and tipped her chin upward, Cade saw tears barely controlled in her beautiful eyes. He longed to kiss her, to be anywhere but this damned cabin and the death inside it.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “You did all you could for him.”
She shook her head and shivered. “No. I should have been able to save him.”
He rubbed her back again, trying to warm her up. He kept his voice soft. “You made him as comfortable as you could. He had a Red Rose of No Man’s Land with him at the end.”
She laughed softly, but it sounded like a sob. “Do you realize he was missing for less than a day? Perhaps twelve hours since we last saw him, until this point. He died so quickly Cade. And if he exposed others at the asylum, God only knows what is going to happen.”
He’d never seen her this shaken off her foundation. If any woman had the strength of ten men, it was Annabelle Dorrenti. Perhaps she’d finally seen too much death. “I know. We’ll get through this.” He held her close, savoring her womanly heat and body. Her presence gave him comfort, and a fierce need rose inside him to protect her. Christ, she was wedging under his skin inch by inch. He stepped back, knowing what needed to be accomplished. “We need to bury Colleto and get him out of the cabin.”
“That won’t stop the disease if it’s already touched us,” she said.
“Ziggy and I will bury him anyway.” He turned her toward the living area and fireplace. “Have some tea and rest by the fire.” To his surprise, she relented.
Cade and Ziggy redressed Colleto with respect and dignity. Even the bravado Ziggy had shown earlier had disappeared under this sobering display of mortality. Urgency propelled Cade, though he couldn’t say why.
It took them quite a while, working by the light of lamp, to manage a grave for Colleto. Using a rusted shovel they’d found in the cabin, they excavated just enough hard earth. Animals could still get to Colleto, but what could they do?
When they returned to the cabin, he didn’t find what he’d expected. Annabelle lay on the floor by the fireplace, broken teacup beside her. Cade’s heart almost burst from his chest. He’d been afraid in battle before; only a fool wouldn’t be. This was different. This fear tore him to shreds and threatened to rock everything he knew down to rubble.
“Annabelle.” Cade knelt beside her and checked for a pulse. He found it strong and regular. Thank God. She was pale, but breathing normally. Cade lifted her in his arms and placed her on the couch.
“Why don’t we put her in the bed?” Ziggy asked.
“Bring that extra blanket we found. I’m not covering her with anything Colleto touched.” Cade hesitated to take off her mask, but then relented. He reached behind her neck to unloosen the ties.
“Whoa, there. What are you doing?”
Cade tossed her mask to the side. “Just get me the blanket.”
Cade removed his own coat and arranged it over her, then piled her coat on top of that. The fire kept it fairly warm in here, and she needed the heat more than he did. He almost asked Ziggy to take off his coat for Annabelle, then didn’t. He was going on pure gut right now and didn’t question any impulse. Ziggy brought the blanket and they placed it over her. Cade took in everything about Annabelle—the gentle curve of her jaw line, and the way her lips parted just enough for the slightest breath to escape. Perhaps she’d collapsed from exhaustion and nothing more. God, help him. He hoped that was it.
“I’m not staying here.” Ziggy’s determined statement raised the hair on the back of Cade’s neck. Something in the way the soldier said it made Cade’s instincts scream in warning.
Cade looked up. Ziggy stood at the doorway, his rifle held at the ready. Cade swallowed to find some spit. “What are you doing?”
Ziggy’s expression held a cross between defiance and fear. “I’m not getting no enza.”
“It’s probably too late. Like she said, we’ve all been exposed. You walk out that door right now and back to the asylum, you put everyone at risk. You’re a soldier in the United States Army. You have more integrity than that.”
Ziggy’s smile was sad. “No, I don’t. I lost all of that in the war.”
Anger crawled up inside Cade, and he almost stood. I’ll show this coward a war. Instead he held back reaction, jamming it deep. Annabelle needed him. If he went and got himself shot, she’d be at Ziggy’s mercy. “If it makes you feel better, get the hell out of here. If you go to the asylum, tell everyone where we’re at. At least do that much.”
“I didn’t make it back from that damned war to die like this.”
“You went into that basement and came out alive. I’d say that’s an accomplishment. The man who fought in this war wouldn’t harm innocent lives by going back to that asylum. ”
* * *
“Maybe I should just kick you out of the cabin.” Ziggy’s smile didn’t look like his usual grin. Cade’s heartbeat picked up. “Or kill you right here and dump you out there with Colleto. Then I’d have her all to myself.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Cade felt it. Something new and horrible worked in Ziggy, directing him.
Cade’s spine stiffened. If he was shot dead, Annabelle would be alone with Ziggy, and Cade refused to allow that to happen. He nodded toward the door. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But you might be contributing to the deaths of many people along the way. Do you want to be responsible for that?”
Cade held hope that Ziggy would see sense. Instead the man picked up his pack and left the cabin. When the door shut, Cade didn’t know whether to feel the deepest relief or the blackest fear.
Annabelle moaned and Cade grabbed a chair. The couch was ancient and dirty, but it had to be warmer by this fire. No way in hell would he allow her to catch a chill. He stared at her features, wanting to memorize them as if he feared they’d be gone—stolen from him in the next minute. A creeping, horrific fear threatened to ove
rride everything he knew about bravery and valor.
“Cade?” Her voice came, breathy and light, before her eyes opened.
“Hey there.” His voice was low and relieved, scratchy with anxiety. “Are you all right? We found you on the floor.”
“I’m fine.”
“Can you sit up? Or do you want to sleep some more?”
She tried to sit up, but sank back to the pillows. “Is that what I’ve been doing?”
“I think you fainted.”
Her normally lively expression stayed inert, uninterested, as if all the life had been drained from her and left a useless, apathetic shell. “Where is Ziggy?”
“He’s gone.”
That made her brighten a little. “Gone where?”
“He said ... he didn’t want to be here after Colleto died.”
Her eyes glimmered with tears. “That poor man. He was in such pain and there wasn’t anything I could do. He was just like all those others. All those other men I tried to help in France. Just like Velia.”
“It’s all right.” He kept his voice low, crooning almost. “This is different. This isn’t war. You don’t have to worry.”
“Yes, this is a war. There are just no bombs or trenches.”
He pressed his hand to her cheek and realized why her cheeks were so flushed. She was burning up with fever. His fear spiked.
“Cade?”
“Yes?”
“You should leave me now.”
“Why?”
“Because unless I’m horribly mistaken, I have enza. If you leave me now, who knows? You might escape it.”
He refused to give into fear this way, damn it. He refused. “It can’t be. You’re exhausted and vulnerable. Influenza doesn’t come on that quickly. We’ve only been here about fifteen hours.”
She shivered. “There’s no accounting for this bug. Not how it works. Not who it attacks. Fifteen hours is plenty of time.”
“I’m not leaving you here, so you can quit asking.”
She sighed. “But—”
“No. I’m not leaving you alone and you’re going to be fine. Even if I did have a damn disease, I’m not sharing it with the world like Ziggy.”
“You think he’ll go back to the asylum?”
“I don’t know.”
She burrowed out from under the covers and touched her face. “The mask. What did you do with it?”
“It’s at the end of the couch. You were gasping for breath under that damn thing. I wasn’t going to leave it on you.” He almost said it. The mask hadn’t saved her from enza.
She rubbed her temples. “My head is throbbing.” She closed her eyes, a weakness to her expression that made her features seem even more delicate. She’d been swamped, taken over by an illness that he couldn’t stop.
“Annabelle, you have to stay awake. Tell me what I need to do to help you.”
“Cold water compress for my headache. I’m so hot.”
“Should I leave the blankets on you?”
She nodded and winced. “Yes.”
He did what she asked and laid the compress on her forehead. “That better?”
A half smile formed on her mouth. “Much. I should ... eat something to keep up my strength.” He helped her sit up, propping her with a couple old pillows. Only the sound of the fireplace crackling broke the quiet as he gave her a tin cup of water and she nibbled on some hard tack. She laughed. “This stuff tastes awful. It’s like being back in France.”
“Did you eat much of this stuff back there?”
“When we were desperate.”
“I wish we had something else besides beans and this.” He crunched into the food as his stomach growled. “I could take you back to the asylum ..."
“You cannot do that.” Her eyes widened. She stopped eating and beseeched him with a stern expression. “Any more than you can leave here.” Her gaze dropped. “I’m so sorry, Cade.”
“For what?”
“You’re here. Stuck with me ... for who knows how long.” Tears filled her eyes even as her mouth went into a tight line.
When her gaze rose to his, her concern ate into him. He could feel her unspoken terror drifting on the outskirts, just barely hovering. “I’m not stuck with you. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” He smiled. “Except perhaps in a bed. With you healthy and well. And naked.”
She laughed, then coughed. “I will make you a fine deal. If we get out of this cabin alive, we will find someplace to be naked. Together.”
Heat blossomed inside him at the thought, overwhelming worry for a precious moment. “I take the deal. Don’t you forget it.”
She swallowed the last of her meal with the last of her water. He took the cup from her and sat it on the table. She coughed and coughed. It was dry, rasping, and hard to watch. She winced at the pain every time. “I don’t know where Colleto got this miserable stuff, but if he weren’t already dead, I’d be tempted to kill him.”
Cade smiled, but the feeling didn’t extend all the way inside. “You’ll be all right in no time. Remember all that nakedness we have to look forward to.”
She sighed and lay back down. She closed her eyes, and trepidation hollowed him out. Part of him wanted to keep talking, to keep her awake.
“Cade, I’m not sorry I met you. No matter what I said to you before, I didn’t mean any of it. I’m so glad I met you.”
He shook his head as tears threatened. Jesus. He hadn’t cried since he was ten. “Annabelle, I’ve been arrogant. This is far worse than any ghost or haunting in the asylum. Far more terrifying than any evil I’ve known. When I was in the trenches I could rationalize my fear. So many men tried to pretend they didn’t have any, but I knew most of them did. Most of them stepped out of those trenches thinking ... knowing it was their last moment on earth. I knew that every hour. Every day. I died a thousand deaths. But if you were to leave me here alone, I would never feel anything again.”
She smiled but didn’t open her eyes, and she didn’t speak. He made a decision and reached for her hand. If this disease planned to take her, he would follow her into the beyond. He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
Chapter 16
“If the epidemic continues its mathematical rate of acceleration, civilization could easily disappear from the face of the earth within a few weeks.”
Surgeon General of the United States Army, Victor Vaughn, 1918
* * *
Annabelle knew the dull throb in her temples, but nothing more at first. Then other sensations came into her awareness. Heavy, heavy, her body felt glued to the surface she lay upon, the weight of herself a stone or an anvil sinking her into dark waters. The headache plagued her, but alarm came when she couldn’t open her eyes. She wanted to cry out, but her throat felt tight. Her breath was constricted. She knew better than to panic, but she didn’t understand how she knew it. Her body ached from head to toe, especially her back. What had happened to her? Waves of hot came over her, but just as quickly it became too cold. Her awareness rose, and with it, a wish for a cure. She didn’t want to swim in the hot waves as they stifled her breathing, and she struggled with one breath and then another. In the back of her mind that reasoned, she knew that life hung in the balance and would slip away easily if she didn’t fight for it.
If she didn’t fight, this could all go away, of course. Perhaps it would hurt. It would be agony before she left this world, but it would be blessedly over. Done. Gone. She would no longer suffer. Then she remembered Cade. Leaving Cade would hurt more than dying, knowing that he might get this horrible disease, that he might rage with fever and succumb. She wondered, in the periphery, how long she’d lain ill. Just hours? Days? She’d hoped when she went to sleep, that she’d awaken and discover the illness gone. Instead the ache penetrated all she did. Fear sliced. What if Cade already had this horrible malaise? What if—
She felt a cool cloth on her forehead and heard his voice whispering calm and deep. “Annabelle. Open your eyes.” Desperation edged
his tone. “You need to eat. You need to wake up and drink water. Do you hear me? Come on now.” He squeezed her hand. “Listen to me. I am ordering you to wake up. You’re a nurse and people will be needing you. Jesus.” His voice broke. “Just wake up.”
His plea worked its way through the fog drowning her. She struggled to the surface and opened her eyes.
“Thank God,” he said as she looked up at him.
Cade’s eyes were shadowed by pain. Pale, he looked beaten, as if he’d finally given into a ravaging despair.
“Are you sick?” She managed the words through her dry, sore throat.
“No.” He stood quickly and came back with a tin. “Here. You haven’t had any water in hours. I couldn’t wake you up.”
“Been dreaming.”
“You have a high fever.” He shifted the chair near the couch so he could slip his arm under her and lift her into a sitting position. Weakness made her arms tremble as she reached for the cup. “I’ve got it.” He held the cup to her lips.
She drank with slow sips, reminding herself not to gulp. He held her there for a long time while she rested against his strength and enjoyed the water bathing her throat. At one point she coughed and he placed the cup on the floor to hold her while the cough tore her apart.
“Dry cough,” she said when she managed to speak. “I don’t have pneumonia.” She dared look up into his face, and his gaze caressed her. Worry and something more covered his face. “I’ll be fine.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Of course you will. Do you feel any better?”
“Some. How long was I sleeping?”
“Six hours.”
“Oh, my.” That’s when she realized it was light in the cabin. “How long have we been here?”
“Since yesterday evening.”
“No one has come to find us.”
“Maybe Ziggy went to the asylum and told them what’s happened. They won’t come here. God, I hope he didn’t go there. If he gets sick ..." He left it hanging.
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