“I’d like to try something on that leg of yours, son. After the splint comes off, it’s going to be weak because of the crushing of the muscles and tendons.”
Blair’s hand tightened on hers. “Will I be able to walk?”
“I think I can help you, if you’re ready to do some work yourself.”
Blair nodded. Rowena swallowed so hard her throat clicked. The doctor had not answered Blair’s question, and that worried her. Whatever happened with the leg, she would always love him, but Blair would never be content if he couldn’t do the things he enjoyed. The times he would ride alone throughout the night he’d come in flushed with excitement. It was his way of escaping some of his demons, and he needed that outlet.
“Because of all this rough treatment, I’m suggesting that we leave the splint on another three weeks. So let’s wait till after the Christmas holidays, and then I want you to return. Till then, do not put your full weight on the leg. You may use crutches, but you’re to be very careful. A young man will be in to help you learn to use them properly. Traverse the halls a few times so we can make sure you have the knack. Then I think you can go on home tomorrow.”
Blair finally managed to speak. “What happens when I return here?”
“I’d like to put a leather brace from the ankle to the knee. We will take measurements today so as to make it fit precisely. It will help support the leg and carry some of the weight so you can walk and strengthen those muscles. We will continue to loosen the brace over time until your own muscles and bone can take over.”
Rowena shifted in her chair. “How long will that take?”
“Depends on young Mr. Prescott here. Under the best of circumstances, I would say that by spring you’ll be walking, providing you work hard enough. You may have to continue to wear the brace.”
“Can he ride?” she asked.
“Ride? On horseback? Perhaps we’ll take that as it comes. I’m not familiar with what it takes to mount up and support oneself. Aren’t the legs involved in the act of riding a horse?”
Blair laughed nervously. “Well, certainly. More so with an English saddle than a Western saddle. But trotting or galloping calls for more support from both legs.”
“Then I should say you could start with the horse walking, using a Western saddle, and see how it goes. I do understand that you mount from the left side. Your strong left leg would do the work in that instance.”
Rowena grinned at him. “I find it strange that a doctor who practices in a hospital in Kansas doesn’t know anything about horseback riding.”
“I practiced in Boston until a few weeks ago, and was never around so many people riding horses. I only came out here because this hospital has such a good reputation and I wanted to come west. All those stories we heard about outlaws and Indians and the cavalry… Sounded so exciting.”
Blair laughed. “Well, have you found it to be so?”
“Indeed I have. You, my good fellow, added to that excitement considerably.”
“I apologize if I did or said anything inappropriate, especially to your fine staff, and you too, of course. I was not myself for a while there.”
Proctor studied the file open in his lap. “Which brings me to another suggestion. I can help heal your body, but I’m not much for…”—he gestured as if embarrassed—“for the dreadful tricks our minds can play on us.”
Blair stiffened, and Rowena readied herself for a blowup. Instead, he kept quiet, waiting for the doctor’s next words.
“In my experience, it would be best for you if you could talk to someone you trust about what’s going on in there.” He tapped his temple.
Silence. She swung from watching the doctor to studying Blair. Dear God, don’t let him go all crazy. They’ll want to put him away, just like Doctor Weatherby suggested.
“Could I speak to you alone?” Blair said, releasing her hand.
It felt like a hole had opened up and swallowed her. How could he want to exclude her when he claimed to trust her and no one else? Hurt and angry, she rose. “I will just be outside.” She wasn’t out the door before the tears came.
****
Blair waited a long time after Rowena walked stiffly from the room. When he began to speak, he had to clear his throat several times.
“I know I hurt her. But I cannot, will not, tell her of the dark monsters that dwell in my mind. Certainly I cannot speak to her of the terrible things I’ve done in battle. I’m afraid she would not stay with me, and she’s all that holds me together, yet those things I just can’t—”
“Of course not, son. There’s a woman in Victoria who would hold all you say in strictest confidence. And she understands that what you have to say may be horrific, but you need to spill the filth out of where it lurks.” Again he tapped his temple. “Inside here.”
“You mean the phrenologist?” He released a long breath. “Rowena has begged me to see this woman—what is her name? I’ve forgotten. Rowena would be fine with that. It would not hurt her. And I will not hurt her. Not ever. She is my life.”
“And you hers. That is clear from her actions of the last few days. You surely realize that your sweet wife protected you, guarded you, lost sleep to see nothing happened to you.”
Blair nodded. “I know. I owe her more than I can ever repay. However, I shall spend my life trying to make it up to her. If that’s at all possible. But what of this woman?”
“I’m speaking of Hildegarde Smythe. I suggest that you make an appointment. I believe if you were able to pay her accordingly, she could be persuaded to come to your place once or twice a week. Please do try it. I know it will help. You can tell her anything. Anything at all. And I’ll expect you the week after Christmas holidays, to be fitted for your brace.”
“I will think about the other. It’s hard for me to imagine pouring out my guts to a stranger. I’d like to get Rowena back in here now, please. I know she’s upset, but I didn’t want her to hear what I might say.”
Proctor rubbed a hand over his thin gray hair as he stuck out the other hand to shake with Blair. “I’ll send her in. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you. It was reprehensible.”
When she returned, her eyes were red, but she managed a smile. Blair held out his arms. “Come here, love.”
She ran to him, and he folded her up in a tight hug, kissing her ear and her throat. “Dear heart, I did not mean to hurt you, and that’s why I asked you to step out.” He returned to trailing kisses, between her breasts, then nuzzling, snorting and growling so that she laughed.
“We’re going home,” he said against the warmth of her skin. “And I want you in my arms in my bed. I know I have on occasion instructed you differently. But we shall simply have to be very careful. I would not hurt you for the world, but accidents can happen.”
“I promise to be careful. Anything so we can be together.” She hugged him so tight his breath was shut off. When she released him, he laughed. “Hmm, it was nice in there, but a bit stuffy.”
She managed a smile. “That’s only the beginning, your lordship. Hope you know I’ve always loved you.”
“And I you. I love you, my darling. You can’t ever know how much. And what you’ve done for me these past few days, I’ll never forget that. Proctor spoke of your special care, Simmons has also told me how devoted you’ve been to me.”
“I only wish I could have stopped the violent actions of that sheriff. If I ever get him alone in a dark alley, I’m going to beat him senseless.”
Blair laughed. “My tough little defender. Come here. Is there room for you in here?” He patted his bed.
The other bed in which she’d slept while caring for him had been moved away for the hearing. She lifted her legs to curl in beside him, and at that moment a young man hustled through the door carrying a pair of crutches.
“Blair Prescott?” His voice was that of a youth eager to please. “Name is Horace, and I’m to help you learn to use these.” Only then did he spot
the couple on the bed. “Ah, sorry to interrupt. I’d tell you to continue with what you’re doing, but I’m afraid I have other patients to attend to and we need to get busy.”
Chapter Fifteen
Climbing into a buggy challenged Blair, but he managed with assistance from Simmons and Grady. Right leg propped on pillows, he settled back next to Rowena, their hands clasped, for the ride home to Fairhaven.
Under a pale blue sky, the winter sun glowed golden on tips of winter grass waving in the wind. Drifts of snow melted in the afternoon warmth.
Blair drew a deep breath. Though tired, at least he felt better than he had in several days, which wasn’t saying much, considering. He squeezed Rowena’s hand. “With luck this warm spell will last long enough to allow everyone to attend our Christmas party.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Leave it, let him do this.
“Me? It’s you ladies who do all the work. I’ll just sit by and supervise.”
With a worried frown, she glanced at Simmons. He nodded and showed his teeth.
Blair studied the two of them. “You two conspire all the time, don’t you? The lord of the manor going to jail surely can’t cause much of a disruption in your plans. I’m fine. I feel good…well, better. I’ll make a brief appearance, assure everyone I’m back to normal—well, as normal as possible—and the festivities can continue while I hide out in the study.”
Her head on his shoulder, she said, “If you’re so determined, it’s fine with me.”
“You’ll be a perfect hostess. You are, after all, the lady of the manor.” As for his day-to-day life and dealing with the visions and nightmares, he and Rowena would continue to be on guard. Proctor said “cured” wasn’t the proper term. “Controlled,” he had told him, was what he should shoot for. And that he would do. With her help, anything was possible.
That western term “shoot for.” He liked that. Understood the chances involved.
They arrived at Fairhaven in time for tea, which Blair and Rowena would take in his study.
Annie came in with tea, eyes bright and shiny, and bobbed her usual curtsy. “It’s so good to have you both back.”
The tray was piled with three thick meat pies, a large bowl of chicken soup, biscuits, and cinnamon sweet cakes. A pot held steaming tea, and there was rich cream and sugar.
“From the looks of this, You’ll have us fattened up in no time.” Blair poured Rowena’s tea, passed her the pies. “One for you, two for me.” He managed a weary grin.
Both Annie and Rowena laughed.
“Would you send Grady in when you’ve finished tea? No hurry.”
“I will, sir. You two eat everything now, or I’m likely to think you no longer like my cooking. If there’s anything else we can get you, just let us know.” She trotted from the room. Probably to join Grady so they could visit while eating. He envied the couple their easy rapport.
Rowena leaned into his shoulder. “I’m tired, and I know you are. Let’s take a nap after tea. Just lie in the stillness and hold each other.”
“That, my dear, is a fine idea.” He took a bite of the meat pie. “Hmm, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
They finished eating, leaving only a few crumbs. She rose, picked up his crutches, and handed them to him. “Need any help?”
“No, I’m fine.” He clomped to the bed, let the things rattle to the floor, and sank onto the mattress. By the time he’d shed his clothes, Rowena was under the covers, having worn only her afternoon frock for the journey home.
He stretched out and waited for the throbbing in his leg to abate somewhat before reaching for her. She curled up against him, and he was nearly asleep when a knock came on the door.
“Captain, sir. You wanted me?”
Damn, he’d forgotten about sending for Grady. He called for him to enter.
The tall, jovial man remained near the door. “I could come back, Captain.”
“That might be best. We’ll talk later this evening, if you don’t mind.”
The door snicked closed, and Blair sighed, draped an arm over Rowena’s waist. Careful of the bandage on his wrist, lest she hurt him, she captured his hand and tucked it up against her heart.
****
Rowena awoke, spooned against Blair, who lay so still she knew he was asleep. Despite all that had happened, here they were, she and the man she loved, in each other’s arms.
Visions of the past couple of days invaded her thoughts, and anger overcame her contentment.
Stop. Don’t think about it. Let it go. He’s here and alive.
Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows, painting patterns across the Egyptian rug. Without putting on a robe she slipped out of bed and padded to the window in her chemise to gaze out across the stark winter prairie.
“If that isn’t a lovely sight.” Ragged but determined words.
She turned. Blair was sitting on the edge of the mattress, gazing at her. He reached out, and she ran across the room, slipped between his legs and into his arms.
Her fingertips touched his battered face gently. “Your poor beautiful face.”
Eyes closed, he laid his head against her chest. His breath fanned hot through the thin fabric. “Thank you.”
“I’m still so angry. I close my eyes and see them dragging you around, kicking you, throwing you into the corner of that cell like a piece of garbage.”
Hands splayed beneath the hem of the thin garment, he stroked her body. “Come back to bed. Let’s hold each other. You are my one true love, my link to reality.”
“Yes, sweetheart.” Whispered so only he, in the entire universe, could hear.
He lay back and she lifted his legs, taking great care with the splinted one, placed them under the covers, before she went to the far side and crawled in beside him. Curled against him, she outlined the battle scars on his body with trembling fingertips. Moved to kiss every inch of his face.
A sigh emanated from deep down inside him. “You washed my hair. It felt so good. I hurt so much, and you knew just what to do.”
“Do you still hurt?”
For a while he said nothing, then he nodded, as if ashamed to admit it aloud.
“Show me where, and I’ll fix it.”
He lifted her hand and trailed it slowly down the center of his chest, over his flat, hard belly, and to his erection. “Can you fix that for me first?”
“Yes, sweetheart. You lie still, close your eyes, and rest. I’ll take care of everything.”
And she did.
He fell asleep in her arms. Tears poured from her eyes, and for a long while she couldn’t stop them.
She loved him so much, and seeing him hurt was almost more than she could abide. But having him alive… Now that was something to be thankful for.
****
When his eyes flicked open, there lurking in the shadows was a figure dressed in the red-and-white uniform of his unit. Blood drenched his shirt and pants. Paris had fallen to the enemy, the brutal Prussians. He must move, get out of the way before they found him. Tossed him back in that cell.
His arms, under the covers. Something there. He pulled them free, gazed at his bandaged wrists. Holy bloody hell? What was this?
When he tried to move, agony erupted in his leg. Had he been hit? Where was he? A room of some sort. It was dark. Someone lay beside him. Cautiously, he moved a hand over the sleeping figure. A woman.
She stirred, and he jerked his hand away. She might be armed. But why sleep with him?
“Blair? Are you okay, darling?”
She touched him and he pulled away. Shook his head. His body felt like he’d been marched over by a hundred boots. Prussian boots.
Someone shaking his shoulder. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Wake up, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek and he came awake with a start.
“Rowena. Oh, God.” He rubbed his tender face, groaned.
She put her arms around him. “It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re home, darling. Home.”
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Yes, I am indeed home.”
The next morning, Grady followed Annie into the study when she came to pick up their breakfast tray.
“You wanted to see us, Captain? Is now a good time?”
Blair sat in one of the two chairs by the windows, waiting for Rowena to finish her morning toilet. Spread before him were all her notes on the Christmas party. Seating arrangements, designs for place cards which she would make herself, and endless lists, from guests to food to hired help.
“Yes, both of you come in, please.”
“How you doing, Captain?”
“Doing well, thank you. Sit, won’t you?”
Annie sat in the chair, while Grady squatted on his haunches next to her, his favorite way to sit.
“I have an errand for you, Grady. I want you to go to Victoria and make arrangements with that…”—he gestured with a hand—“that phrenologist. Can’t remember her name. Ask Simmons. I gave him a note asking her to begin treatments. Tell her I’ll pay whatever she needs if she can come here, at least for the first few visits until I’m back on my feet and can journey into town myself.”
“Sure, Captain, I can do that. No one may have told you. That phrenologist is my mother, it’s a long story for another time. All right if I take Annie? She’s needing some more supplies for this party. Simmons says you told him it’s still on.”
“I can see I need to do some catching up. Indeed the party is on, and of course you may take her with you. Were I you, I’d want this comely lass with me no matter where I went.”
Grady and Annie both blushed, and Blair smiled.
“When are you two getting married?” he asked.
“We’ve been thinking for a while about it, but we’re not exactly sure what we would do. That is, if we could stay on here, or should move on to something else.” Grady shrugged.
Rowena's Hellion Page 25