Elizabeth watched as Nick, alternating between teasing and coaxing, persuaded Lizzy to drink the entire glass of lemonade. He's so good with her--with all the children. Someday, he'll make a wonderful father. That unexpected warmth crept into her cheeks again.
As if Nick read her mind, his eyes met hers.
Elizabeth blushed. Surely he wasn't having similar thoughts about her?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nick's boots felt as if they had rocks in them instead of feet, making it difficult to drag them up the stairs to Lizzy's room. The heat had pressed down on him all day, until he felt his muscles had shriveled to strips of bacon. When he'd glanced in the looking glass after washing up, he could see new lines etched around his eyes, making him look ten years older. The other men, and Mark and Sara, who'd stayed with him all day, had a similar parched appearance. Heat and fear had taken a toll on all of them.
Entering the room, he saw Pamela and Elizabeth sitting quietly--the air thick with their exhaustion. He nodded at them and received quiet nods back, although Elizabeth managed a slight smile. Pamela's cheeks had lost their plumpness, and she had dark circles under her eyes, while Elizabeth looked pale and drawn. He ached to be able to hold her and make everything all right.
"Nick," Lizzy murmured. She opened heavy-lidded eyes, and moved her fingers in a pathetically weak gesture toward him, which wrung his heart.
"Little Bird." He folded her tiny, bony hand into one of his while soothing back the hair from her face. A couple of tendrils caught in his knuckles. Even the texture of Lizzy's hair was different--its usual springy softness brittle against his skin. He twisted his work-roughened fingers until the delicate strands untangled.
Her eyes closed, then opened again. "Music." He barely heard the plea from the pale, dry lips.
"Do you want me to play for you?" He glanced at Miz Carter for permission.
Pamela nodded. It seemed to him that the idea of soothing music for her daughter relaxed the tight muscles around her eyes.
He flicked a quick glance at Elizabeth, who smiled in approval. His heartbeat quickened, and he grinned back. He hadn't seen a smile cross Elizabeth's drawn face for the last three days--not since the day Lizzy had first drunk some lemonade.
"I'll be right back." On his way to the music room, he pondered his eager mood. Nothing had changed. Lizzy was still in danger. Only, now he could do something. To know the child he adored hovered near death, and to see the pain and suffering of the Carters and Elizabeth, had near driven him crazy. His helplessness during the entire week of Lizzy's illness had burdened his heart. Only when he'd gotten the lemons, or took Mark and Sara with him on his jobs around the ranch, had he felt like a contributor.
The violin lay on the chair where Nick had left it after Lizzy's birthday party. Shaking his head, he picked up the instrument and bow. The party seemed like it had taken place years ago instead of just weeks. So much had happened since.
He tucked the end of the violin under his chin and tuned the strings. Something lively first. Playing the catchy strains of "Pop Goes the Weasel," he started out of the room, down the hall and up the stairs, the sounds of music announcing him.
He entered the room just in time for Lizzy's favorite part. Making sure he had eye contact with her, he pantomimed a monkey face, and made the popping sound with his finger on the strings.
Lizzy's wan face brightened, and a small laugh escaped her. Nick's heart lightened in response, and he could see from the joy on Elizabeth's face, she felt the same way.
Pamela's face and shoulders relaxed, and she sent him a look of gratitude.
With a flourish, he finished the rest of the song. "What next, Little Bird?"
"'Lou, Lou'."
"'Lou, Lou', it is." Nick winked at Elizabeth and watched the pink rise in her cheeks. Tapping his foot, he began to play "Skip To My Lou."
When he'd finished, he slid right into another song, playing every tune he knew. Then he started in with hymns. Lizzy's eyelids drooped, but he could see her fighting to stay awake. Nick's fingers started to ache, and the pads of his fingertips were tender, but he wasn't going to stop until Lizzy fell asleep.
Running out of hymns, he began the strains of "Lizzy's Theme" and watched the child's eyes grow heavy. Soon she lost her battle with Morpheus. Her dark lashes fluttered, then her eyelids stilled.
A sob from Pamela shifted his attention. For the first time since her daughter's illness, Pamela's rigid control broke. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and mopped away the tears running down her cheeks.
Nick almost stopped the music, but didn't want to break the sleeping spell he'd cast over Lizzy. "Ah, Pamela," he said softly.
"Pam." Elizabeth rose from her chair, reaching out her hand to her friend.
Pamela shook her head, motioned for Elizabeth to stay in her seat, and fled the room.
#
Elizabeth's extended hand folded over her heart. She had to resist moaning and bending forward to hide her face in her lap. Oh, dear God, I wish there’s something … anything I can do to console Pamela.
She glanced at her sleeping goddaughter, so pale and weak. Please, dearest Lizzy, please get well. For the thousandth time she silently pleaded the words. Would the nightmare of this illness ever have a happy ending, or would a silent grave and an ever-present emptiness take Lizzy's place in all their hearts?
Nick shifted his weight and brought "Lizzy's Theme" to an end.
Elizabeth looked up at him and saw her feelings--sorrow and fear--mirrored in his eyes.
Nick began playing another piece—a beautiful one she'd never heard. The feelings in his eyes changed until they held love and compassion. "This is for you," he whispered.
Mesmerized, she became lost in the emerald enchantment cast over her by his gaze and the seductive music. Although not released from her cares, the music soothed away the harsh edges so they didn't cut so deep into her soul, giving her the strength to continue to bear them.
The heavy sound of boots pounding up the stairs interrupted her reverie. John slowed to a stop when he reached the landing, attempting to enter the room quietly.
Usually the men cleaned up before coming into the house, but dust covered John's clothes, and his hat remained on his head. He beckoned them from the room.
Nick brought the music to a gentle close, and they followed John out the door.
Although disappointed not to hear the rest of the music and continue exploring her feelings for Nick, Elizabeth's stomach clenched at the sight of John's face. My God, what’s next?
"Where's Pamela?" he asked.
"Probably in her room." Elizabeth waved her hand at the closed bedroom door. "She broke down in tears when she heard Nick play Lizzy's music and wanted to be alone."
The creases around John's eyes and mouth deepened. "I'll go to her in a minute." Seeming to belatedly become aware of his hat, he lifted it off his head. Underneath, his thin, rusty-colored hair lay plastered to his skull. "Jed shot and wounded a grizzly near the north pasture."
"The north pasture?" Nick sounded surprised.
"The fence was down. Some cows and calves had gotten out. Jed went after them. The grizzly caught him by surprise. His horse reared, and he barely got a shot off."
"Is he all right?"
"Yeah. He decided to round up the cattle instead of trackin' the grizzly."
Nick's forehead wrinkled. "That bear's too close by."
John nodded. "At first light, I want you to go after it. Just what we don't need around here--a wounded grizzly."
"Done."
"Elizabeth." John turned toward her. "I want everyone to stay close to the house. Keep the children inside."
Elizabeth caught her breath. "Would a bear come this close to the house?"
"Probably not, but there's no tellin' what a wounded grizzly will do," Nick said.
"'Bout twenty years back, one killed the youngest O'Brian child." John glanced toward Lizzy's room. "Best not to take chances."
#
Elizabeth couldn't stand another minute of being cooped up in Lizzy's room. The long hot day drew to a close. Lizzy slept peacefully, so Pamela wouldn't need her for a while. She stood up and shook out her rumpled blue calico skirt. "I'm going for a walk."
Pamela looked up from her embroidery. "Stay close."
"I'll walk in circles around the house."
Pamela gave her a faint smile. "You'd better take a hat. It's still hot out there."
"I will."
Elizabeth made a quick trip to her room, where she scooped up the straw hat hanging on the bed poster. Plopping it on her head, she hurried out the door, anxious to get out of the house. If she didn't get some exercise, she'd burst. Elizabeth suppressed a smile. What an unladylike image. Being in Montana had even changed the way she talked to herself.
Once outside, she blinked in the early evening sunshine. While still hot, the air had lost the dryness that made her feel as if every drop of moisture had leached from her body.
Where to go? She looked around carefully, making sure no grizzly was in sight. Surely it wouldn't come this close to the house. And besides, Nick must have shot the bear by now. Still, she wouldn't venture too far.
Despite the heat, Elizabeth stepped briskly, hoping to banish the anxious feelings inside her. She felt a little lightheaded. Between the oppressive heat and the knot of fear in her stomach, she'd barely eaten anything in two weeks. With the loss of weight, she didn't even need to wear a corset.
She took deep breaths, relishing the freedom from her tight stays. Maybe she'd remain at this weight and never wear corsets again. She shrugged her shoulders. Maybe she'd regain her weight and still never wear corsets again.
As she walked, her thoughts turned to Laurence and Genia. Although she'd written to them briefly about the crisis with Lizzy, she hadn't mentioned anything to her brother about returning home. Nor had she given the baby much thought. But Lizzy's illness reminded her of the preciousness of children, and the frailty of those little lives. If she could do anything to aid the safe delivery of her nephew or niece....
When Lizzy’s well, I’ll go home.
And if she doesn’t make it?
No. Don’t even think that.
Reaching the whitewashed fence of the horse pasture, she opened the gate, let herself in, and closed it behind her. Several of the horses seemed to be milling around a large boulder in the middle of the field. Wondering why, she squinted for a closer look and spotted a solitary figure perched on the rock.
Nick.
Her heart raced. She debated retreating, but decided to stay her course. Humming "Lizzy's Theme," she walked along the fence until she reached a gate. Unfastening the latch, she pushed the gate open, then closed it behind her.
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth tried to quiet her rapid heartbeat and still her shaking hands, but couldn't. She approached the boulder.
Nick, clad in a dusty brown work shirt and blue denim pants, appeared lost in studying the sky. It wasn't until the horses shied away that he noticed her.
"Elizabeth!" He jumped off the rock. "What are you doing out here?" A look of alarm crossed his face. "Lizzy?"
She shook her head and waved her hand in negation. "I just needed to get out and walk."
His mouth tightened. "Elizabeth, John told you to stay in the house." His voice sounded firm.
Nick's tone halted her. He'd never spoken to her that way before. "I looked around, and it seemed to be safe. I didn't plan on going far."
"It's too dangerous for you to be outside."
"You're outside."
With his boot he nudged the rifle on the ground next to the rock. Then he turned and picked up the gun belt from behind him.
"Oh."
"Promise me you won't go wandering off again."
"I promise."
His shoulders relaxed.
"But now that I'm here, can I stay? I can't bear to be in the house another minute."
He touched his hat. "I'll keep guard."
Elizabeth motioned to the rock. "May I join you?"
He bowed slightly and set the gun belt on the ground. "Allow me."
Placing his hands around her waist, he gave her a little lift onto the rock. "How's that?"
"Fine," she managed to stammer. He'd touched her uncorseted waist! Could he tell? The blood raced through her veins, and her heart beat so loud, she thought he'd hear. Settling back against the rock, she willed her pulse to still.
From her vantage point, she concentrated on the view. The dusky orange of the setting sun coated the undulating grassy hillocks amber and gold. The black, brown, gray, and chestnut mares grazed peacefully, their foals beside them. Her heartbeat slowed in response. She finally looked down at him. "I take it you didn't find the grizzly."
Nick shook his head. "That ole bear's a smart one. I tracked it to the water and lost it."
Elizabeth tilted her head in puzzlement.
"It must have stayed in the river. I went upstream and down on both sides and couldn't see any tracks where it came out." He rubbed his face with his hand. "I don't even know which way it went. It might even have been badly wounded, drowned, and washed away."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Keep after it. It was getting late, so I came here to my thinkin' rock--" he gave the stone an affectionate pat "--to see if I could figure out where to find that darn bear."
"Thinking rock?" She lifted an eyebrow.
"Yep. After my parents died and I came to live with John, I spent a lot of time on this rock just looking at the sky." He glanced up, and, as if to frame a view, lifted his hand in the air.
Elizabeth watched the golden rays of the setting sun play across his face, turning his green eyes to hazel.
"I would look at that vast expanse of blue and imagine my parents being up there watching from heaven." He dropped his hand and looked at her. "Somehow it comforted me."
"Pamela told me you were only thirteen when your parents died. What happened?"
"They were killed in a wagon accident."
"How awful for you."
"Yes. My little sister too."
"Oh, no!"
"Marcy was Sara's age. Always carried around a rag doll just like Sara does. I found it after...." He lowered his head and kicked at a clump of grass. When he looked back at her, she saw the shadow of old sorrow shading his eyes. "I was angry they died and left me alone. Part of me died with them."
A lump rose in Elizabeth's throat, and her heart ached for him. She understood only too well what Nick had gone through, even though she'd been nineteen, not thirteen.
"John was always good to me, but it really got better when Miz Carter came out here, and the children were born. Almost like having a family again." He paused. "But not quite. A part of me always felt on the outside."
Nick had made the Carter family a solace from the pain of losing his own ... and so had she. Now the specter of Lizzy's illness hung in the air between them, threatening to tear apart the contented surrogate family they'd made.
Elizabeth's deepest fear welled up into whispered words. "I'm afraid she's dying."
Nick remained silent, but his face tightened, and the shadow in his eyes deepened to sea green.
"You're afraid too. I can see it in your eyes."
He swallowed and nodded.
"She grows more transparent every day. And I feel so helpless." Her voice choked on a sob.
Nick reached up, lifted her off the rock, and gently set her down. He slipped off her hat, cradling her to him. "Elizabeth," he whispered into her hair.
Elizabeth ignored her hat, drifting to the ground. Being held in the security of Nick's arms loosened the tears she'd been suppressing for the last week. She tucked her face into his shoulder and cried. Her chest heaved with gasping sobs, and she clung to him.
Nick feathered a kiss across her brow, then rested his cheek on the top of her head, while lightly rubbing her back with his hand.
Elizabeth couldn't
stop the flood of tears and made no attempt to try. The relief of releasing her sorrow and fear felt necessary. It had been so long ... not since Richard and her parents had died.... At the memory of those earlier losses, she cried more, the tears welling up from a deep pool of grief. She seemed to cry forever, years and years.
Finally all the feelings squeezed out of her, like a dishrag wrung dry. She allowed herself to remain limp in his arms. How wonderful to be held like this.
She sniffed. Poor Nick. She'd drenched the front of his shirt. Not wanting him to see her red, tear-stained face, she turned within his hold, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve. Keeping her face averted, she delicately blew her nose several times, then laid her head back on his shoulder.
"I hate death," she said. "The worst time of my life was when my parents died. I was only nineteen. An influenza epidemic just like this one. Pamela's little sister, Mary--Lizzy looks just like her--died of influenza, too. And my fiancé, Richard." Her voice choked.
Nick kissed the top of her head.
She twisted slightly within his arms in order to cup her locket, snapping the case open. "Here's his photograph." She held it up to him. "He gave me this locket on my eighteenth birthday. I've worn it ever since."
Nick kept his arms around her while he studied the photograph. "He was a handsome man."
Could Nick see Richard's resemblance to Caleb?
Nick's voice softened. "I can see why you always wear this necklace." He lifted his gaze to her, his eyes so full of understanding that once again her tears welled up.
He hugged her to him. "I'm so sorry you lost him … lost them all," Nick murmured into her hair.
Elizabeth lifted her eyes to his. "Richard was a strong man. If he died, how can our frail little Lizzy survive?"
With a tender finger, he brushed a tear out from under her eye. "Elizabeth, we must trust and pray."
She turned away from him. "Sometimes that's not enough." She scooped up her hat and took a few steps toward the house. "I'd better get back. Pamela might need me."
Wild Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) Page 23