Two hours later they were still talking. She learned that the couple had settled a homestead in Colorado and were raising a new breed of cattle; most exciting of all, Wilda was expecting a child in late spring.
“Then you’re happy. I’m so pleased.” Rowena put an arm around her shoulder.
“And you. Are you happy? You look thin, worn out.”
“Only because of the accident.” She then told Wilda what had happened and what the doctor said. “I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. He is good to me, sweet and gentle.”
“That’s difficult to believe. Will he walk again? You mustn’t tie yourself to an invalid, dear. You’re worth so much more than that.”
“What am I worth, Wilda? Exactly what? The nuns made it pretty clear that I’m worthless because…well, you were there, you know why.”
“They didn’t know anything. They never had the love of a man, so what could they know?”
“I did love Jimmy, but we were kids. Now I know what real love is. Still, he was so sweet, and we loved each other. Love is especially intense at that age. I was so lonely, and he made me feel so good.”
“But they punished you so severely. I was a kid and I knew it wasn’t right, what they did. A wonder to me you can even consider loving a man.” She stopped and pushed a stray lock of Rowena’s hair off her forehead. “And are you comfortable, uh, you know?”
Rowena laughed. “Nosy, aren’t you? If you must know, yes, he pleasures me and I him. It’s better than I ever thought it could be.”
“Even so, I still can’t understand how you can love a man who can be so blamed ornery.”
“He’s a good man struggling with emotions we have no way of understanding. He’s a war hero, and some men have more problems dealing with those experiences than others.”
Wilda studied her for a long time. Finally she said, “I’m so glad I didn’t marry him. You will be better for him, and he for you, than I could possibly have been.”
“I know,” Rowena said, and they laughed, hugging each other once more.
“I have to go now. I promised Calder I’d be back by midnight. We’re leaving soon as they finish their business. Maybe you and Blair can come see us sometime. After the baby is born?”
“Yes, we’ll do that. Write me, will you, please?”
Wilda promised she would. She had not reached the door when a loud thud came from Blair’s room. She ran to join Rowena in rushing into the dark cubicle.
Chapter Eight
Women’s voices, distant and muted, awoke Blair.
Damn, he was tired of lying in bed. He raised his head cautiously. Waited for the onslaught of pain. Not bad. Not good, but tolerable. Both elbows propped on the mattress, he pushed his shoulders up. Again, paused. Some pain.
Had he been wounded on the battlefield? The room didn’t appear to be a hospital. What was going on?
He paused, took a deep breath, and gave it time. He’d been shot before, ripped open by heavy fire. The pain had surprised him with its intensity. This felt like a wriggling, thorny being darted up his leg into his spine and through the top of his head. Being struck by lightning, but in reverse. After several deep breaths he overpowered it, but didn’t move.
From beyond the door came muffled laughter.
He cocked his head. Listened. Recognized one voice. Rowena. The name came to him unbidden. But who was the other? He knew, but could not quite… Gingerly he rolled to one side.
Oh, God. Not good. Dammit. Gritting his teeth, fists gripping the sheets, he kept the roll going. Just a bit farther and he’d be on his side. Maybe he could lift his legs, one at a time, and place his feet on the floor.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. Shards of piercing bright lights shot through his vision, but he remained conscious. Still, he kept struggling, trying not to groan out loud. Where was the nurse? She’d come rushing in and make him lie back down if she heard. And he was so damned tired of lying here. Must’ve been here a month at least. If he could prove he could move, maybe they’d let him up.
His left leg trembled a tiny bit. It would move, but the other? No. He tried to sit up, but that was no good with that leg all strapped up. He straightened his arms and pushed himself upright, splaying both hands flat on the mattress. That worked, but the intense pain brought everything to a halt while he took deep breaths to keep from passing out. Stars skittered through the darkness, closed in around his eyeballs. The pain convulsed his stomach, and he swallowed hard. Damned if he’d vomit.
At last, he dragged his butt up under him and sat hunched over his thighs. Now for the worst part. Right leg first. The one strapped into something stiff. Try it. He lifted his thigh, used the nightshirt as a sling, and swung the leg off the bed.
Aw, hell. The floor came crashing up, hit him in the forehead, and darkness swallowed him whole.
He came to lying in the bed with two women standing over him glaring like he’d committed some crime. Rowena and someone else, a familiar face he could not place. A dream. A god-awful nightmare that flickered on and off. He snuffed it out. Still no idea where he was or what had happened to him. Clear he hadn’t been shot, not in battle, at any rate.
“We had to get two half-drunk men off the street to come up here and lift you back into bed. What were you doing?” Wilda. Rowena’s sister. How the hell had she got here?
He raised a hand, attempted nonchalance. “Hello, Wilda. Good to see you.”
She grimaced. “You too, I think.”
Hands on her hips, Rowena continued to regard him without humor.
“I’m sorry, love. I needed out of this bed.” That he aimed at Rowena, cutting Wilda off completely.
Wilda’s mouth dropped open. She glanced at Rowena and said something under her breath, then turned to him. “I thought you were Blair Prescott. Who are you?”
“Not amusing.” It all came back in a rush. The dray, being under fire, but no, that could not be right. Then there was the agonizing pain.
“Neither is you leaping out of bed.” Rowena’s voice broke, and she settled beside him, touched his cheek, then kissed him. “Promise me you won’t do that ever again.”
“If you don’t let me up, I won’t promise you anything.”
“I’ll talk to the doctor about getting you into a wheelchair.”
“Tell him I want to go home. Simmons is there. He’s a better nurse than that little gremlin who runs around behind that gnome of a doctor like his pet cat. Get me a wheelchair so I can go home. Please, Rowena.” He clasped his hands together under his chin.
“You can stop the puppy-dog eyes.”
“Please?” Wilda mocked. “I think I’ve fallen into another world. Love? Please? I repeat, who are you?”
“Stop that.” He glowered at her.
Rowena peeked at her sister, then back at him. “Both of you stop it. He’s only being nice so I’ll get him out of that bed. Normally he’s a troublemaker.”
“Un trublion,” he said.
“You said that before. What is it? What does it mean?”
“The colonel. He always called me his hellion after a particularly violent battle.”
“Ah, a perfect name for you. But I love you, nonetheless.” she said.
He glanced at Wilda and motioned Rowena to move closer. When she did, he whispered in her ear, “I love you too. But don’t tell her.” After she kissed him again, lips warm and soft against his, he said, “And make her stop mocking me.”
Both women broke into laughter.
“It’s the morphine,” Rowena said softly.
Wilda nodded. “When it wears off, will he be his same old offensive self?”
“Probably,” Rowena said, sounding happier than she had earlier.
Sighing, he peered about the room but saw no one lurking in the shadowy corners. The morphine must be keeping them away. Could it be they were gone for good?
The two women were still talking in undertones when he drifted off to sleep.
****
>
Doctor Weatherby gladly released his patient. “He is indeed an irascible man,” he told Rowena, wheeling the wooden chair into the cubicle where Blair lay, impatient and vocal. The doctor’s helper, a huge man with a bald head and bulging muscles, followed along. Without being instructed he went to the bed, threw the bedclothes off Blair, picked him up as if he weighed nothing, and deposited him in the chair.
“Good God almighty, are you trying to kill me?” Blair shouted when Baldy gently positioned one foot, then the other on the fold-down foot rest.
“Sorry, sir,” the man murmured. Those turned out to be the only words he spoke, though he took over the job of wheeling Blair to the top of the stairs.
“Are you going to allow this giant to toss me down there?” Though he was only half-serious, he had a niggling feeling the man wanted to do just that.
“Stop being such a baby.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much, my lady.”
She only laughed. “His colonel called him a hellion,” she explained.
“Okay, tell everyone.”
Baldy picked him up, carried him down, and deposited him none too gently into the buggy Grady had parked out front. Rowena covered him with the rug, tucked it in around him, her fingers gentle against his legs.
“Good God, the man is a sadist. Don’t forget the chair.”
“I should leave it here, so then I would have you helpless and under my control.” She smiled at him, and he shook a finger at her but couldn’t help returning the smile.
“Doesn’t sound too bad to me, being under you. I’m told we are married.”
“Blair, behave. You know we are married. You cannot wiggle out of it now. It’s too late.” From the tone, she was enjoying the banter. He was happy to please her, she had been so loyal to remain with him. From the dark circles under her eyes, it was obvious she had not slept well in several days. But his wife? That could not be, though he did love her.
He laughed, feeling good and free and hopeful around this woman he had only recently discovered he loved. It was an entirely new feeling for him, a man who had learned not to love anyone or expect love in return. He was still getting accustomed to it.
Simmons helped Baldy with the chair, which the two strapped to the back of the buggy on the luggage rack. Grady and Simmons would ride up front.
Even though Rowena enjoyed Blair’s teasing, she could see he was in a great deal of pain. How would they get him inside when they arrived at Fairhaven? Though trim, he was a good-sized man. No sense in worrying. Blair was going home, and neither hell nor damnation could stop him.
When Baldy started toward the stairs to the doctor’s office, she laid a hand on his heavily muscled forearm. “Thank you so much.” She smiled up at him. He nodded with no change of expression and continued on his way.
Weatherby handed her a packet. “Instruct Simmons to give him the morphine as marked on the hypodermic, and to inject it slowly into a vein in his arm. He can take it by mouth if necessary, but it tastes rather foul. I’ve included a small vial of opium, but don’t give it to him unless his pain worsens. It’s addictive and… Well, Simmons will understand the caution. I’ll be out in a few days, and perhaps we can lower the morphine dosage.”
Holding the medication, she glanced toward Blair, then back at the doctor. “What about his leg?”
Weatherby shrugged. “I’ve done all I can do. He will either recover and be able to walk or he won’t. Much of it is up to him. I’ll change the splint when I come out, and instruct you and Simmons on doing it thereafter. He’ll be in it a while, so he might as well get used to the blamed thing. He is not to put any weight whatsoever on that leg.”
“What if I took him to a hospital, say, in Kansas City or St. Louis? Could they do more for him?”
The doctor’s forehead furrowed. “The man needs to be in an asylum. I’ve spoken to you about that before. He lapses into these rages.”
“I’m more concerned about his physical injuries.”
Weatherby shrugged in defeat. “I’ll be able to tell you more once the splint comes off.” He touched her hand. “I worry about you, should he have one of his spells. He could well blame you for what has happened.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That would never happen. What he needs is someone who will stand by him, help him, not shut him away somewhere.”
“So be it,” Weatherby said. “I’m told you married him. I hope you don’t live to regret it. Send for me if you need me.”
“Thank you for taking care of him. Have you given the bill to Grady?”
“Yes.”
“I will see you are paid, then.”
“Rowena, could we go now?” Blair said.
“Coming. See you soon, Doctor.”
Climbing into the buggy, she sat beside Blair, whose splinted leg rested on the seat opposite. She was very careful not to touch it and glanced at him, curling her hand in his lap. His smile was more like a grimace, and he folded his fingers around hers.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded, but his jaw clenched and unclenched.
Wilda, who had remained overnight at the surgery with her sister, took the seat opposite, watching Rowena with a puzzled frown.
The trip was hard on Blair. Pain contorted his features with each bump, but he hung on to her and made no complaints.
It took both Grady and Simmons to lift him down from the buggy and into the chair. They had decided to put him temporarily in the study on the main floor. A bed was brought down from upstairs and the room prepared. There he would have all his books and a good view of the outdoors, plus the warmth from the huge fireplace. A fire burned briskly when he was wheeled into the room, sagging in the chair. By now, he must be wishing he had remained with the doctor a while longer.
“Just leave me over by the fire. I’m chilly,” Blair barely got out the request.
“Sure you don’t want to go to bed for a while?” She touched his arm.
“No. I’ve had enough of a bed to last me a while. I want to sit here and look out the window, or read, or just contemplate. I intend to get busy walking as soon as it’s allowed, and that better be damned quick. Now, leave me be. All of you, and stop hovering. Rowena, please stay, if you don’t mind.”
Wilda headed toward the kitchen, and Simmons and Grady left, closing the door gently.
Over the days since the accident, his pain had become hers. Would he be the kind, gentle man she loved? Or that haunted soldier who continued to wander the battlefields of his memories? She had to hope the latter was gone, and leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“I didn’t know where I was until I saw you.” He brushed a finger along the back of her hand. “What a grand fool I’ve been, and now look what I have done to myself.” He patted his right thigh. “What has that doctor to say about the injury?”
“Not much, yet. And you did not do this to yourself. I saw what happened, and it was not your fault. But rolling out of bed, now that was entirely your fault. You have to be patient. Quit doing things that can reinjure the leg. I’m going to help take care of you.”
“Why?” he asked.
She took his hand, kissed the back of it. “How can you ask me that?”
“It seems a natural question.” He sighed. “When my mother and father determined that Gerald was the stronger of us two, they turned to his needs entirely. Considered me weak and of little consequence. God only knows what they would’ve done had I been the first born.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that has to do with me. I am your wife and I love you.”
He gazed into her eyes, a befuddled expression on his face. “People keep saying that, but I do not remember having a wife. Besides, a beautiful woman like you won’t long be happy tied to a cripple. You’ll soon find yourself someone stronger, more able.”
“You will remember. The accident has wiped out your memory of our wedding. We married only the day before you stepped in front of that dray. And I will never look fo
r anyone else but you. If you cannot believe that, I am sorry. Besides, who says you’ll be a cripple? Are you looking for yet another excuse to send me away?”
He didn’t answer for a while, the silence in the room broken only by the monotonous ticking of the enormous grandfather clock and the crackling fire.
“Better done before you decide to leave.” He did not meet her steady gaze, but kept staring at the flames.
“You said you loved me, and you’ve said it more than once.”
“That was the morphine talking. I know the symptoms. I’ve been given the drug before.”
“And when you said it before the accident. What was that talking, the whiskey?”
“Probably. It tends to do my talking for me.”
She dropped to her knees, fighting the layers of skirts muddied by their earlier adventure in Victoria. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
He finally looked at her and rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, like he did so often. It felt so good, that gentle touch, and she leaned her head into his lap. His fingers fiddled with the pins in her hair till he had them loose, and the long locks tumbled down around her face.
“You’re exhausted from looking after me. I’m sorry to trouble you so much. What if I trust you? What then?” His voice was so soft she barely heard him, his hand now lying on her head.
“I want you to trust me, but whether you do or not makes no difference to my love for you. That will always be.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“I am.”
“Will you take off your clothes?”
“What?”
“We’ve enjoyed pleasures before this happened. Will you now take off your clothes for me?”
She stood and, gaze never leaving his, began to remove her clothing down to the corset, her drawers, shoes, and stockings. “Unlace me, please.”
His fingers worked the corset loose, and he let it fall to the floor with the rest of her clothing. She peeled off the stockings, kicked out of her shoes, and faced him.
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