Wild legacy
Page 14
"I can't even move my arm," Sean complained.
"It's only been a few days since you were shot," Dominique reminded him. "You were lucky not to have bled to death before you got here. You need to rest. Why won't you take the laudanum?"
Sean's eyes were clouded with pain, but his words were clear. "Perry wants me unconscious so he can cut off my arm."
Dominique sat back slightly. "Is that what has you so upset? Are you afraid you're in danger of losing your arm?"
She was holding another cup of willow bark tea, and
when Sean reached for her hand it spilled all over her apron. "Don't laugh at me," he cried. "I'd rather be dead than lose my arm. I'll give you everything I own, but you've got to promise me you'll not let him do it."
Ignoring her wet apron, Dominique grasped Sean's right hand in both of hers and leaned close. If the inflammation in his shoulder spread, amputating his arm would never save him. He was too weak to survive the procedure even if it would and she knew Dr. Perry would never put him through such an agonizing ordeal when it would surely kill him.
"Listen to me," she urged calmly. "You're so tired you're not thinking clearly, and what you need is rest. You needn't promise me anything to watch over you. I want to do it. Now, my poultices can only do so much. You've got to do the rest by getting enough sleep so your body can heal itself. I won't let anyone harm you while you're asleep.
"I'll fetch some more tea, and then some laudanum so that you can finally get to sleep. I can't bear to see you in so much pain, Sean. Take it for me if you won't do it for yourself."
Sean had been healthy his whole life, and until now, never wounded. He knew he was behaving very badly, but he couldn't help it. He was sick and frightened and in so much pain he couldn't reason clearly. "You mustn't leave me."
Dominique reached out to stroke his hair. "It's nearly dawn, and I'm so tired, I can't stay awake much longer, but I'll sleep right here beside you. Now you must promise me to drink the tea and take the laudanum." When, after a lengthy pause, he finally responded with a slight nod, she went into the kitchen and found Stephen Perry discussing another critically ill patient with one of his mates.
"Would it be all right if I moved one of the extra cots next to Sean so I can get some sleep? He's terrified you're going to amputate his arm the minute he swallows the laudanum."
Worn out himself, Stephen had no patience for such fool-
ishness. "I'm going to assume that's his fever talking rather than his sincere opinion of my professional competence, but frankly, his chances for survival have never been good. Sleep beside him if you like, but don't be surprised if he dies before morning."
Dominique stared at the surgeon with open disgust. "Are you still jealous of him?" she asked. "I want you to understand this, Doctor. I have absolutely no interest in you, and if we lost every single man in the camp I would still have no interest in you. Now, I intend to see that Sean O'Keefe not only survives the night, but makes a full recovery."
Badly embarrassed that she would make such a personal comment in front of a third party, Stephen shooed the mate out of the room. "That wasn't necessary," he argued. "I've done all I can for Sean, Just as I have for everyone else. As for you, well, I think I've been exceedingly generous when neither you nor your sister arrived with any letters of recommendation. For all I know, you could be spying for the Colonial army!"
Dominique refused to allow the terror that comment caused to show in her face. With forced calm, she refilled the cup with tea, poured out a small glass of laudanum, and replaced the cork in the tincture of opium with a careless slap. "If I were a spy," she announced clearly, "I'd be sleeping with Lord Cornwallis rather than trying to keep Sean alive. Now I'll thank you not to bother either of us before noon tomorrow."
She went back into the bedroom to care for Sean, then moved an empty cot so close to his she could hold his hand while she slept. "You must trust me," she whispered. "You'll soon be well." She heard him mumble something about trust, but too tired to care what it was, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
"What if he doesn't? I want out of here now!' Belle was so badly frightened even her skin tingled with dread. "I don't understand why Falcon and I don't mean more to you than Sean O'Keefe."
"You do!" Dominique cried, but the sadness in Belle's eyes was proof she wasn't believed. "1 want you to leave with Falcon tonight, and I'll follow when I can."
Belle shook her head. "I won't even consider leaving you behind. How could you possibly explain my disappearance? Even if you said I'd run off with my lover—" She paused, stunned to realize how great a secret she had just revealed. Refusing to give Dominique the opportunity to ponder her error, she rushed on. "With me gone, your commitment to the British cause would no longer be trusted."
"Perhaps not, but you and Falcon would be safe." Dominique had caught Belle's inadvertent confession, but knowing how dearly she loved Falcon, let it pass. "I've got to get back to Sean." She rose, and then leaned down to kiss her sister's cheek.
"I want you and Falcon to go without a shred of guilt or worry. We'll all be together again soon." She ducked out of the tent before Belle could respond, but she had made the only choice her conscience would allow and had no regrets.
Belle's tears splashed onto her plate, but with a shuddering sob, she stilled them. She wished she had agreed to meet Falcon at the river because now there was no reason for him to come to her tent. She blamed herself for the mess they were all in, but that did not change it. Too nervous to sit still, and too frightened to walk around the camp, she followed Dominique up to the farmhouse and did what she could to ease the suffering of the injured. But it did little to help her prepare for what she feared would be another horrible scene with Falcon.
After midnight, Falcon left Nails tethered at the edge of the woods and made his way to his cousins' tent. When he found Belle fully clothed but alone, he began to swear. "Where's Dominique? Must I pull her from O'Keefe's arms?"
Belle grabbed his hand. "We can't talk here. Let's go."
Falcon led her back to Nails. Recognizing her scent, the horse greeted her with a soft snicker, and Belle ran her hand down his neck in a gentle caress. The handsome horse was another stirring reminder of all she had left behind in Virginia, and she feared her chances for returning home anytime soon were very poor.
"I wanted to be certain you were safe before I fetched your mounts," Falcon told her. "Now where's Dominique?"
Belle steeled herself for what would surely be a furious reaction. "I begged her to come with us, but she needs more time." Eager to embrace him, Belle moved close, but as she reached out, Falcon backed away and all she caught was a handful of swaying fringe.
Falcon swore a bitter oath as he pulled free of her grasp. "I've already been here too long, and so have you," he complained. "We must go tonight."
Badly disappointed that he could not spare a few seconds for the affection she craved, Belle dropped her arms to her sides and shrugged helplessly. "We can't take her by force."
"Why not? Tell her I need to speak with her. Bring her here and I won't have to strike her hard to knock her unconscious. By the time she awakes, we'll be a long way from Camden."
Belle knew Falcon would take care not to hurt Dominique badly, and she was tempted, but then thought of how angry she would be should Dominique separate her from Falcon in such an underhanded fashion. "No. Even if we don't agree with her, we ought to respect her wishes. Can you give us a week, and return for us then?"
"You'd rather stay with her than go with me?" Falcon asked with an accusing sneer.
"I have no choice!" Belle countered in a pleading whisper. "If I leave with you tonight, I'll never forgive myself should anything happen to Dominique. And if I stay, and lose you, I'll surely die of a broken heart. I'm only asking for a week, Falcon. If you can't come back for us then, we'll get away on our own."
Falcon stared down at Belle. The moonlight graced her features with an innocent sweetness, but she poss
essed a will of iron. He could not fault her courage, and admired it, but her plan was ridiculous. "You wouldn't travel three miles before another British patrol found you."
"Your father didn't find us and he must surely have searched. We didn't know there were British soldiers so far from Charleston, but now we do, and we won't make another careless mistake."
Sick of arguing, Falcon moved close and pulled Belle into his arms. He lowered his head to kiss her, but there was no tenderness in his manner that night. He tightened his hold on her arms and weighed his need to have her against her insulting loyalty to Dominique.
"Dominique chose Sean over you. Why can't you choose me?"
Belle rested her cheek against his shoulder and wished his words had been as soft as his buckskins. "If only it were that simple. If it were, I'd leave without looking back, but nothing is simple here. Clearly we ought not to be here in the first place, but it would be very wrong to leave Dominique behind. I beg you, please don't ask me to do it."
She did not seem to realize he could take her away by force as easily as he could have taken Dominique, but Falcon was loath to do it. He wanted her to come with him willingly. "A week," he finally agreed, "and I expect you to thank me for being so generous."
Relieved beyond measure that he had responded with understanding rather than hostility, Belle hugged him more tightly. "That seems fair," she murmured softly.
"Not here," Falcon replied. He released her only long enough to leap upon Nails, then pulled her right up behind him. He took her back to his camp where, safe from all intruders, they lost themselves in each other in what neither wanted to be the last time. When he brought her back to the edge of the forest at dawn, he lingered, watching her cross the field until she disappeared in the pearl gray mist.
Each time they parted, Belle pulled away a larger piece of his heart and he felt the resulting ache more deeply. He was also desperately sorry he had not shot Sean O'Keefe in the head. He wheeled Nails around in a tight circle, then rode away, intent upon killing as many of the British scourge as he possibly could before the week was out.
For three days, Sean hovered in a twilight of feverish pain, but on the fourth morning, he awoke before Dominique, and his head was clear. His shoulder throbbed with a dull ache, but he could stand it, and to his amazement, he actually felt hungry. His memories of the last week were no more than a hazy blur, but he did know Dominique had been with him the whole time.
Of all the women he had met since arriving in the Colonies, she was the very last one he would have expected to show such tender devotion. She had poured tea down his throat when he had been too ill to raise his head and she had applied poultices to his shoulder even after he had begged her to let him die in peace.
Even now, she lay stretched out on a cot pulled close to his. Her kerchief had slipped off while she slept, and Sean caught a flaxen curl and rubbed it between his finger and thumb. Soft as silk, the shiny strands spilled over his palm;
bored without her company, he gave a fierce yank to wake her.
"You're a poor nurse," he scolded. "Get me something to eat."
"Sean?" Startled by his rude summons, Dominique was so grateful to hear him speak in a rational tone she quickly pulled her hair from his hand and rolled off her cot. She leaned down to touch his forehead and was elated to find his skin cool. "Thank God, you're yourself again. I'll bring you some porridge."
Sean grimaced in disgust. "I'd rather have a slice of roast beef."
"I doubt I can find one, but—"
Sean's eyes narrowed to menacing slits. "You'll bring me exactly what I want, or I'll let everyone know who the Scott sisters really are."
Dominique's joy at finding Sean alert dissolved instantly. "I saved your life," she murmured numbly.
Amused by her consternation, the film of tears brightening the vivid blue of her eyes left him unmoved. "Thank you, but if you think that entitles you to some special consideration on my part, you are badly mistaken. Now fetch my breakfast, and be quick about it."
The vile taste of hatred rose in Dominique's throat, but she did not know whom she despised more, Sean for being such an arrogant ass or herself for expecting gratitude. Hurting Belle and Falcon by staying with him now seemed the very worst of follies, and she cursed under her breath all the way out to the kitchen.
One of the surgeon's mates was stirring a pot of porridge, but she knew better than to offer it to Sean. "Colonel O'Keefe is awake and asking for roast beef. I'll keep the lumps out of the porridge if you'll go find him some."
Perplexed by that order, the young man reluctantly handed over the long-handled spoon. "I'd be lucky to find
him a piece of chicken," he replied, "but I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you." Dominique swirled the bubbling porridge. "The colonel will be ever so grateful." She gritted her teeth as she wondered what Sean would demand next. The fact that she could have spent even a second of her time praying for his recovery struck her as lunacy now. Why had she ever cared whether or not such a despicable swine succumbed to his wound? How could she have made such a horrible mistake?
Had she envied Belle's love for Falcon so badly that she had imagined there had been more to her brief acquaintance with Sean than had ever existed? How could she have been such a pathetic fool? Had she been betrayed by pride? Had she remembered Sean fondly when his only distinction was that he was the one man who had not fallen to his knees and begged for her affection?
She whipped the porridge around the pot, bashing the lumps and hating Sean more with each passing second. When Belle entered the kitchen, she blurted out her sorrow. "I've made a terrible mistake, and I owe you an apology."
Surprised to find her sister cooking, Belle gathered the stack of bowls and prepared to distribute their patients' breakfast. "I can't imagine why. You've worked harder than anyone here."
Dominique spoke through clenched teeth as she beat another lump from the porridge. "Yes, that's certainly true, but it was for all the wrong reasons. Sean's finally lucid, and the bastard's feeling well enough to treat me like his personal slave. How could I have been so stupid as to have cared whether he lived or died?"
Balancing the stack of empty bowls, Belle made a quick trip down the hall to peek into the bedroom. She saw Sean speaking with Dr. Perry, and hurried back to Dominique. "Isn't this good news?" she asked. "It should make our plans all the easier to carry out."
"I'm not sure I can survive three more days here."
"Good, then we'll have no arguments this time. Now start filling these bowls. We've patients waiting for breakfast."
"I've not even had time to comb my hair!"
"They'll be too hungry to care," Belle teased, but she could at last see their escape becoming a reality and could barely contain her joy.
What Dominique could barely contain was her disgust, both with herself and Sean O'Keefe. When the surgeon's mate returned with a hunk of beef which had already been simmered to make broth, Dominique slapped it on a plate, cut it into tiny pieces, and carried it to her obnoxious patient. "I've found breakfast for you," she greeted him sweetly, "but I'm afraid you may find the meat too tiring to consume."
"I'll be the judge of that," he replied. He had felt her constant presence when he had been too ill to see clearly, but after taking a bite of beef, he finally noted just how disheveled and fatigued she looked. "Haven't you another gown? It looks as though you've slept in that one."
"What an astute observation." Dominique guided another sliver of beef to his mouth. "You don't look your best, either, Colonel, but because you've been seriously ill, I'm making allowances for you. Because I've not left your bedside, I suggest you do the same for me."
Sean swallowed the stringy morsel and wondered if he would not have enjoyed the porridge more. "Don't push me, Dominique."
"Push you?" she asked. "I've no idea what you mean, Colonel. I've not had the opportunity to congratulate you on your promotion. I'm sure it was well deserved, but frankly, I fully exp
ected a man with your remarkable abilities to have become a general by now."
Stung by her biting wit, Sean swore. "My God. You want me to turn you in, don't you?"
"It couldn't be any worse than waiting on you."
Dominique knew better than to taunt him, but she just couldn't keep still. She slid another piece of beef into his mouth and glanced out the window rather than watch him chew. The barren field did not provide an entertaining view, but it was still better than her surly companion's accusing stare.
"You'll continue to take excellent care of me," Sean whispered, "or I'll have Lieutenant Beck arrest Belle."
Dominique found it difficult to believe she had actually been terrified Falcon might slit this insufferable idiot's throat, when it now struck her as a great pity that he had not. "Belle is no more guilty of a crime than I am. If you betrayed her, would you be able to look yourself in the mirror when you shave?"
Sean swallowed and smiled. "Easily."
Dominique jabbed her fork into the next bite, but as she steered it toward Sean's mouth, he caught her wrist. "Am I going too fast?"
Sean hated being trapped flat on his back, but he was not about to accept Dominique's insolence. "No, on the contrary, you're too slow. Make more effort to please me, Miss Scott, or I'll make you very, very sorry."
"You already have," Dominique assured him. He glared at her, but after a couple more bites, shook his head and closed his eyes. "I ought to change your bandage," she said, although it would be difficult to restrain the impulse to pour salt in his wound.
"Later," Sean mumbled, and worn out by the slight exertion eating required, he drifted off to sleep.
Dominique waited a moment, then realized he wouldn't bother her for another hour or two. Even knowing it was stupid to bait him, she thought it was what he deserved. She did not want to trap Belle with her tongue, however, and prayed for the patience to remain civil.