"Felicity, darling, it's not that I don't want to. I--"
"If Holt dies because you were too cowardly even to try to save his life, I'll walk out of this house and never speak to you again as long as I live."
"You can't mean that."
"Before Mama died, she told me I had to take care of you. For thirteen years I have. Now it's your turn to do something for me."
Her father gazed deep into her eyes. Something he saw there must have helped him make up his mind. He responded with a decisiveness that was new for him. "Okay, but you'll have to help."
Felicity's gaze rarely moved from Holt for the last three days. Mrs. Bennett prepared delicious meals, but Felicity ate the little food she could force herself to swallow sitting in a chair next to his bed. She slept there as well, even though her body was now so stiff she could hardly move. She watched, waited, prayed for a sign that his body was winning the battle against the bullet wound, that he would regain consciousness and his full health.
To become Vivian's husband.
She had been a fool to believe Holt could love her. Vivian was a goddess, the kind of woman men put on a pedestal, the kind of woman men never forget even when they marry another woman. Holt could love Felicity for the very reason that she was attainable.
She couldn't live with that. It would have to be all or nothing.
Yet when she looked at him lying in the bed, naked to the waist except for the bandage across his chest, she wondered how she could face the rest of her life knowing she wouldn't see him again, that he would never kiss her, hold her in his arms and make love to her. Afer being shown heaven for one brief moment, she was starving for more. Did she have the strength to turn away because crumbs were all she was offered?
She tried to push the questions out of her mind. She'd gone over them a thousand times in the last three days. Holt didn't love her as much as he loved Vivian. But every time she convinced herself of that, she would look at him lying there, beautiful and helpless, and everything would change. She couldn't give him up to Vivian. Somehow she had to--
A soft knock at the door preceded her father's entry into the room. He approached the bed, looked at Holt. "Has he shown any signs of regaining consciousness?"
She shook her head.
He sighed. "I did the best I could, but it was a bad wound. I thought he was going to die."
"Holt couldn't have done any better."
"There's someone downstairs to see you."
"I don't want to see anybody."
"I'll sit with him."
"I told you, I don't want to see anybody."
"I think you'll change your mind when you see who it is."
"I'm not dressed for company."
"They won't care."
But she would, Felicity thought, as she changed her dress, combed her hair, and made herself presentable. She wanted to refuse to see whoever this was, but she could tell when her father got stubborn. She would make it as quick as possible. But when she reached the parlor to see a room full of men and two women seated on the sofa--a young one with a baby in her arms and an old one who glared fiercely at everyone in the room--she knew immediately who they were.
"You're Holt's friends, aren't you? The ones he worked with on the ranch."
"I'm Cade Wheeler and this is my wife, Pilar." The beautiful woman with black hair smiled.
"I'd get up, but I don't want to wake the baby," she said.
"And I am Donna Isabella Cordoba diViere," the fierce woman said. "Pilar is my granddaughter." Felicity thought her expression softened slightly. "And that is my great-grandson."
"Are those his friends?" she asked, indicating the other men. "The ones he fought with in Virginia?" Felicity asked. She recognized Broc. Holt had described his scarring.
"I'm Nate Dolan," one man said.
"Broc Kincaid."
"Ivan Nikolai."
"Rafe Jerry."
"He wrote us that he'd found Laveau diViere," Cade said. "We came as soon as we could. Your father told us what happened. Do you know what happened to Laveau?"
"He left while we were still in shock. When the rumors started flying that Richard Fraser was going to inform against him, he emptied his accounts. Apparently he stayed in town only long enough to try to kill Holt." After he fled, the thieves admitted that Laveau had hired them.
"He has a habit of doing that," Cade said.
"And of getting away before we can catch him," Nate Dolan said. Felicity thought he looked particularly angry.
"We want to help," Cade said.
"Thanks, but that's not necessary," Felicity said. "My father and I can take care of Holt."
"We're not leaving until he's better," Pilar said. "We love him as much as you do."
"He intends to marry Vivian Calvert. He knew her in Virginia when she was a girl. His uncle--"
"We know all about Vivian," Broc said. "He talked about her all the time."
Exactly what Felicity didn't want to hear. She guessed she'd never stopped hoping.
"Men don't always know what they want until they see it," Pilar said. She handed the baby to her grandmother. "I'm sure you'd rather not have your house invaded by strangers, but Holt is a part of our family. We can't leave until we know he's going to recover. Owen would be here, but his wife is expecting their first child. Every one of these men has tended wounds and knows what to do. I'll help you set up a schedule."
"If you don't, we're liable to cause so much trouble, they'll run us out of Galveston," Broc said.
"The only reason I'd leave now is to go after Laveau," Nate said.
Felicity felt overwhelmed. She also felt too exhausted to resist. They could do anything they wanted, but she intended to sit with Holt.
"You look exhausted," Pilar said. "Why don't you let me help you to bed?"
"I'm not sleepy."
"You're ready to drop where you stand," Pilar said. "Come on. You can tell me everything I need to know to take care of Holt. This will give me a chance to pay him back for taking such good care of me when I had my son."
"He's a big baby," Felicity said.
"Like his father."
Felicity wondered how big Holt's son would be. She told herself to stop it. She would never know. She had every intention of politely refusing Pilar's help, but it wasn't long before she found herself letting Pilar prepare her for bed. And all the while, she was talking about Holt, telling her everything to watch for, then telling her all about Vivian. The last thing she remembered before giving in to the weight of exhaustion was telling Pilar how Holt had sat up with her father through the worst stages of alcohol withdrawal.
"Holt has always had this compulsion to take care of people," Pilar said. "Oddly enough, it's that very compulsion that has caused him to keep everybody at a distance. I think you're the first person to get close to him."
"He said he loved me," Felicity murmured. "But he's going to many Vivian."
"We'll see," Pilar said.
Holt didn't understand how he could be a disembodied spirit. He felt as if he were suspended in water. He would float near the surface where he could see light and faces staring back at him. Then he would sink into black depths where he saw and felt nothing. Was he dreaming? Was he dead? Nothing made any sense. What had happened to him?
It was too hard to think. Every time he came close to grasping a thought, it slipped away from him. It was important that he see someone, that he say something, but he couldn't remember who it was or what he wanted to say. It was important to remember how he got here, but he couldn't remember that, either.
The light was brighter today. As he floated near the surface, he saw a woman's face. It looked familiar, but he couldn't tell who it was. He tried to speak. He could feel his lips moving, but no sound came out. He was getting closer and closer to the light. He tried harder and harder to reach the light, to speak. He tried to lift his hand, to reach out to her, but his arm was too heavy. He felt something touch his hand. He tried to squeeze back, felt the slig
ht contraction in his grip. He felt an answering pressure. He tried harder to break through the murkiness that swam above him. He felt weak, powerless, but he wouldn't give up. The grip on his hand felt stronger. He squeezed back.
"Holt."
The soft sound came from a distance. He didn't understand it.
"Holt, can you hear me? Can you feel my hand?"
He could almost understand. He could almost see her features. He could almost see through the haze. Then everything cleared and he found himself looking up into Felicity's worried face.
"Yes, I can hear you and feel your hand." He didn't understand why his voice sounded weak, breathy, the words halting.
She broke into a smile. "Thank God. There were times when I was afraid I'd never hear your voice again."
"What happened?"
"You were shot. You've been unconscious for a week."
"All those faces, those other people. Who are they?"
"They're your friends."
"Is it Vivian?" He wasn't entirely sure who Vivian was.
"You can see her when you're better," Felicity said. "Now you need to rest. Your friends will all want to see you as soon as you're strong enough." She released his hand and rose.
"I've got to talk to you."
"We'll talk later. You need your rest." She moved toward the door.
"But I need to talk now."
"Just rest." She opened the door. "We can talk later."
She left the room and closed the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-five
"She won't see you," Pilar said to Holt. "I've done everything but drag her in by force."
He started to get up, but he didn't have the strength. Pilar pushed him back down.
"You're not getting up. If you keeping trying, I'll have Broc tie you to the bed."
"He's sadistic."
"He's determined you're not going to get up until you're well. Now behave yourself, or I'll tell Vivian she can't see you today."
Holt had cursed his weakness, and Laveau for being the cause of it, until he couldn't summon the energy to do it anymore. He didn't want to see Vivian, but he would because it was a duty he'd taken on years ago.
"Is she here now?"
"Yes."
"Tell her to come up. I might as well get this over with."
"An extraordinarily beautiful woman is coming to see you, and you don't look happy. Are you sure you're really alive?"
Holt laughed. "You'll see when the right beautiful woman comes through that door."
Felicity was considering whether to leave the shade of a grove of live oaks for the safety of a black willow. She would be practically invisible among the training limbs. She was aware that people came to the porch often to check on her. She had begun to feel like a cornered mouse. Everybody was trying to get her to see Holt now that he was conscious, but she had refused. Her resolution had sagged several times during the last three days, but knowing he'd asked about Vivian practically the moment he regained consciousness had stiffened her flagging resolve.
Her father was seeing more patients than ever, was in wonderful spirits, and spent nearly every evening with Mrs. Bennett. He was like a new man. Apparently, operating successfully on Holt had bolstered his confidence.
Felicity felt she'd been cut adrift. All her life she'd had her father to take care of, to look after, to protect. Now he didn't need her any longer. She was free to pursue her own happiness, but now that was an impossibility. She would never love anybody the way she loved Holt.
But that didn't mean she would play second fiddle to Vivian. She had seen Vivian leave earlier looking angry enough to cut out the heart of the first person who crossed her. She wondered what that could signify.
Felicity knew the moment she saw Nate and Broc come out of the house and start toward her like two soldiers in lock step that they had something in mind she wasn't going to like. She briefly considering running away, but in addition to being undignified, it would be useless. She had no doubt these men would pursue her with ungentlemanly persistence.
"Holt wants to see you," Broc said.
"I don't want to see him."
"We have orders to take you to him," Nate said.
"I don't want to be rough on a woman," Broc said, "but Holt's helped all of us at one time or another. We owe him."
"So you're delivering me to him like some kind of sacrifice."
Nate smiled. "He just wants a chance to talk to you. Once he's done, you can do whatever you want."
Okay, she'd let him have his say. All she needed was the courage to walk away one more time.
"Okay," she said, getting to her feet. "Take me to him."
"You're not a prisoner, ma'am," Nate said.
"What do you call it when you make a woman go where she doesn't want to go?"
"Try to consider it friendly persuasion," Broc said.
Pilar was waiting for them when they reached the door to Holt's room. "If you show him that face, you'll set his recovery back a week," she said.
"I'm not happy about this."
"He's a good man. Don't make it any harder on him. He's still very weak."
That wasn't fair. Pilar knew that was the one thing that could make Felicity abandon her defiant stance. "Are you going in with me?"
"He wants to see you alone."
She would have preferred company, but Holt wouldn't be able to talk forever. She only had to remain strong for a little while. Then she could go back to her room and cry herself to sleep. Pilar opened the door. Felicity took a deep breath and entered Holt's room.
Everything looked the same. She could believe she'd only left for a few minutes, not three days. "Hi," she said. "Glad to see you're finally conscious."
"Why wouldn't you come see me?"
Holt always did believe in getting straight to the crux of the matter. Apparently they didn't believe in small talk in Vermont. "There didn't seem any point in it."
"What do you mean there didn't seem any point in it? Hell, I want to marry you. That ought to be something to the point, even in Texas."
Felicity grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself. "I don't know about Vermont or Virginia, but I do know that in Texas they frown on a man being married to two women. Even the Reconstruction government would have trouble explaining that."
"I don't want to marry two women. I'll have enough trouble being married to one. You're not an easy woman to understand."
"You don't have to understand me--just Vivian."
"I understand her perfectly."
"Good. If that's all you wanted to say--"
"I haven't even started on what I wanted to say. Will you sit down? You know I can't sit up without somebody rushing in to push me back down again."
"You shouldn't try to sit up. You're too weak. You nearly died."
"If you don't sit down and let me finish, you're going to finish me off."
She didn't want to sit down. She wanted to run out of the room, but she was certain Pilar, Broc, and Nate would force her to return. "What is it you want to say?"
"I want to talk to you about Vivian."
She got up. "I don't want to hear about your wedding plans."
"If you don't sit down and stay in that chair, I swear I'll have Broc and Nate tie you to it."
She figured they'd be just loyal enough to Holt to do it. She sat.
"All my life it seems I've been bound by some duty I couldn't escape," Holt said. "First it was my duty to take care of my father when he was drunk. Then everyone blamed me for his death. My mother said I wasn't welcome in her house anymore. I suppose I still feel that I could have done more. I even became a doctor because I thought by helping other people I could make up for not having been able to help my father. My uncle said he would leave me Price's Nob, but in exchange I was to take care of Vivian. I obligingly fell in love with her, but she married someone else, and my uncle blamed me for that. He said Vivian wouldn't have run away with Abe Calvert if I'd been there."
&nbs
p; He looked exhausted. Felicity wanted to tell him not to talk any more, but she knew he wouldn't rest easy until he'd said what he had to say.
"It seems I've spent my whole life being responsible for things I couldn't control, holding fast to a duty that forced me to ignore my own happiness. I got angry with you because I saw you doing the same thing. When I watched your father fight his alcoholism, I realized it is possible for people to change if they want it badly enough. And if they don't, they can't hold anybody else responsible for their own failures. I'm finally free of the guilt of my father's death. He didn't want to change. He didn't care how much suffering he caused. My staying wouldn't have prevented his death."
She wondered if that meant he could now go back to Vermont.
"I still felt I had a duty to Vivian. But after I found her, it soon became clear she wasn't the woman I believed her to be. A few weeks ago I foolishly offered to marry her and take her back to Virginia. Fortunately, she refused me."
"But she asked you again. I heard her."
Holt smiled. "That'll teach you to listen to only part of a conversation. You should have listened to the rest. I told her I was in love with someone else."
Felicity was glad she was sitting down. The strength went out of her body.
"Today I told her that the land would be fertile again someday, but I didn't want Price's Nob. I'll put it in trust for her son."
"What did she say?" She didn't really care about Vivian anymore. She just wanted to know what he was going to do.
Holt laughed, then grimaced at the discomfort it caused. "Most of it was extremely rude, but I don't care. I'm free. Well, not really. I've got myself all tied up again."
"How?"
"Well, you see, I'm in love with a woman who doesn't believe I love her. I admit I didn't do a good job of it in the beginning--actually, I did about as badly as it's possible to do--but I'm willing to do anything I can to make up for it if she'll only give me a chance. I considered having my friends tie her up and bring her to me, but Pilar said that wouldn't make a very good impression."
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