Falling into Your Arms (Love in the Old West Book 3)

by Bess McBride

  The man had asked her to marry him. Marry him! Nope, he was delusional. She checked his forehead again. He didn’t have a fever, but why would he necessarily?

  She sank back down in her chair and picked up her tea. Such a handsome face. Tanned, as most people in Arizona must have been, his face in repose was angular with a strong square jaw, a wide sensuous mouth, and thick black eyebrows slightly darker than his hair. On a whim she rose and touched the thick, wavy tuft of hair that fell over the bandage wrapped around his head. It was as silky as it looked.

  She sat back down again and stared at him. His chest rose and fell evenly, which she interpreted as a good sign that he was breathing steadily. His hands on the quilt were tanned like his face, and she remembered the sensation of his lips on the palm of her hand. Who knew the man had such passion buried not so very far below the surface? She wondered if he even knew.

  A tap on the door startled her, and she looked up to see Serena drift into the room, stunning as usual in a soft-green satin belted dinner gown. Her dark hair shone under the matching golden glow of the lamps.

  “Miss Chilton! Sarah!” she exclaimed. “You are still here? Father said you were going to look in on Jeremiah, but I didn’t think you were going to nurse him all night. Surely there is no need for that, is there?”

  “The doctor seemed to think so,” Sarah said briefly.

  “I can sit with Jeremiah for a while if you need to rest. I don’t mind.”

  “I’m fine here, Serena. I’m actually all set. I told the doctor I would watch over him, and that’s what I plan to do.”

  Serena’s pleasant smile wavered, and Sarah felt shame for her behavior.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m a stickler for rules. If I’m given a tasking, I take great responsibility for it.”

  “A tasking?”

  “A job. An errand.”

  “Yes, of course. I see. I was only trying to help.”

  “I know, but I’ve got this.”

  “You’ve got what?” Serena asked.

  “Ummm...I can handle this.”

  “Well, of course you can. There was never a question of that. How are you? You fainted when you arrived. Did the doctor say what caused your collapse?”

  “Dehydration, shock. That was embarrassing, fainting on arrival.”

  “No, no, do not think of it that way. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I heard you underwent quite an ordeal. Your poor hands.”

  Sarah looked down at her scratched hands. “That comes from me running around the desert in the dark like a madwoman.”

  “But you did that to escape the brutes who hit Jeremiah and our driver.”

  “I did. I wasn’t sure what they had planned for me.”

  “Shocking. I would have been terrified.”

  “I was,” Sarah acknowledged.

  “I am so glad to hear that they were arrested.”

  “Me too.”

  Serena returned her attention to Jeremiah. She approached the bed, and Sarah stiffened. She wasn’t sure she wanted Serena so close to Jeremiah. When Serena reached out to touch Jeremiah’s hand, Sarah snapped.

  “Don’t wake him!”

  Serena pulled her hand away and took a step back. “I am sorry. That was not my intent.”

  Sarah swallowed hard, fighting the unfamiliar sense of ownership that had come over her. Jeremiah was not her possession.

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  “I will leave you,” Serena said quietly. “I really didn’t mean to wake him. I only wanted to touch his hand.”

  Sarah hated the jealousy she felt. She looked from Serena to Jeremiah. They even looked alike in their dark-haired beauty. They belonged together.

  “I really am sorry, Serena.”

  “Good night,” she said and left the room.

  Sarah stared at the closed door for a moment before rising to refill her tea.

  “You do love me,” Jeremiah said from the bed.

  Sarah whirled around, spilling the tea in her saucer. “What?”

  “You do love me,” he repeated. “You were jealous.”

  She remained by the table, keeping distance between them. “Jeremiah! I was just trying to keep her from waking you, but I see that she did anyway.”

  “It is the thought of you that awakens me,” he said, a smile stretching across his face.

  “Stop this nonsense right now, Jeremiah!” she said. “You sound absolutely delirious.”

  “As I said before, delirious over you.”

  Sarah’s lips twitched. What woman could resist such silly romantic stuff?

  “Do you want more tea?”

  “Yes please, if you deliver it with your sweet hands.”

  She couldn’t help but start laughing.

  “Okay, let’s hope you snap out of this. I don’t know how I’m going to explain your delusions to the doctor in the morning. I’d be too embarrassed. He did say I should tell him if you didn’t make sense. You don’t.” She retrieved his cup and refilled it, bringing it back to the bed to hand to him.

  He cupped her hand with his and stared at her with what she could only describe as a soulful look.

  “Stop staring at me,” she said, going back to get her cup and returning to her seat. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I do not feel ridiculous,” he said. “My head hurts though.”

  “I can only imagine. I wish I could help you with that.”

  “Perhaps a kiss on my forehead?” Again, that smile caught at her heart.

  Sarah drew in a deep breath. “Your forehead is bandaged, dear.”

  “Did you call me dear?” he asked. “Will you someday call me your dear love?”

  “No,” she said. “I shouldn’t have called you dear. I was being facetious.”

  “That is fine with me. You may call me any number of facetious endearments.”

  “Jeremiah, what is wrong with you? This is nothing like you.”

  “Apparently, it is. I have never been besotted before. This must be me in love. Please say that it isn’t tiresome.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes and sipped her tea.

  “It’s not tiresome. It’s just troubling.”

  “How so?”

  “What if you have brain damage?”

  “Brain damage? That sounds ominous!”

  “I know, right? No, I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. You just don’t sound yourself, that’s all.”

  “Is it unattractive to you? I will cease and desist if you find it unattractive.”

  “Any woman would be thrilled and flattered to hear all the stuff you’ve been spouting, but it certainly came out of nowhere.”

  “Perhaps the bandits knocked some sense into my head.”

  “What sense is that?”

  “The sense that I cannot let you go without telling you how I feel, that I had to try to keep you here.”

  Sarah winced. “We talked about that, Jeremiah. I haven’t changed my mind in the last fifteen minutes. You really should get some sleep.”

  Jeremiah drank the last of his tea and set the cup down on the nightstand.

  “I am so glad that you are here with me, Sarah. I hope that you will still be here when I am old and gray and on my deathbed.”

  Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Go to sleep.”

  “Good night.” Jeremiah closed his eyes, and Sarah watched him for a while to see if he was pretending. She set her tea down and rose to go find a bathroom. Peeping out into the hall, she saw a door at the end and wondered if that was it. She stepped out just as Samuel appeared at the top of the staircase.

  “Sarah!” he called out.

  Sarah put a finger to her lips and looked at Jeremiah’s door. Samuel nodded, put a hand on her elbow and guided her away from the door.

  “He’s sleeping,” she said. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”

  “It is at the end of the hall. You look exhausted. I do wish you would let one of the girls
watch over him for a bit, or even one of the maids.”

  “No, I really want to,” she said.

  Samuel hesitated.

  “You sound very...attached to Jeremiah. Is there an understanding between you? I don’t think Serena knows that.”

  “Serena?”

  “She has pined for Jeremiah for years, since they were children. She always hoped to marry him.”

  “Oh dear,” Sarah said. “I thought that might be true, but I wasn’t sure. I snapped at her when she came to the room a little while ago, and I feel terrible about it.”

  “Did she say something inappropriate? Jealousy can be such a tricky thing.”

  “No, not at all. She was going to touch his hand, and I barked at her. I shouldn’t have done that. They would make a beautiful couple, wouldn’t they?”

  “Then you are not enamored of Jeremiah? Do I misunderstand that?”

  “What?” Sarah chuckled. “Me?”

  “Is that a response?” Samuel asked.

  “No, of course not. I barely know him. Besides, I’m leaving soon.”

  Samuel’s hand on her elbow dropped. “Leaving? Where are you going? When do you return?”

  “I won’t be back, Samuel,” Sarah said with a shake of her head.

  “Where do you go?”

  “Back to Virginia. I was only passing through when I stepped off the train and didn’t get back on in time. I told you that.”

  “Would you ever consider returning?”

  “I can’t, Samuel. I’m sorry.”

  “I am so disappointed to hear this, Sarah. Somehow, I think Jeremiah must be more disappointed.”

  “He’s always known I was going to leave.”

  “I wish that I had known.”

  Sarah studied Samuel. It was not possible for two men to have become so enamored of her that they were brokenhearted about her imminent departure. Traveling through time could not have imbued her with an irresistible magical romantic aura.

  “Can I ask you something, Samuel?”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “Is there a shortage of women in town?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Are eligible women in short supply in town?”

  “Eligible women,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Well, yes, there is a shortage of ‘eligible’ women here in southeastern Arizona.”

  “I don’t know about Benson, but wasn’t Tombstone well known for its...um...saloons and...uh...women?”

  Samuel laughed. “The women who work in saloons in Tombstone are not ‘eligible,’ as you so whimsically described. It is odd, though, that you describe Tombstone in the past. It is still a very busy town.”

  “I didn’t mean to. You’re right. How odd of me. I’m sorry, Samuel. I really appreciated your invitation to dinner, though things went badly on the road, but I was never one of those ‘eligible’ women.”

  Samuel’s white eyebrows shot up. “Do you mean to say that you are—”

  Sarah gasped. “No! No!”

  “But of course I would never infer such at thing,” Samuel sputtered. “It was only that you raised the subject!”

  “Okay, well, I don’t know what I’m talking about, so there’s that.”

  Samuel looked at her with wide blue eyes, his thick silver eyebrows raised to an impossibly high level.

  “I do not understand.” He shook his head.

  “I know,” Sarah replied. “I know. Well, I was just on my way to the bathroom, so maybe I should do that.”

  “Yes, of course!” He nodded, though his eyes still hadn’t resumed their regular shape.

  Sarah went down the hall to the bathroom fully aware that he stared after her. She tried to walk like a not-eligible-but-not-saloon-girl person, however that would look. Poor Samuel. It was a given that he wasn’t going to invite her to dinner at his house again. For a brief moment, she imagined herself as the stepmother of Serena and Tabitha. Nope, that wouldn’t have worked out, especially not if Jeremiah became her son-in-law.

  She used the bathroom and washed up before returning to Jeremiah’s room. Jeremiah slept, and she sat down in the chair and closed her eyes. Her dreams were disturbing, and she slept fitfully throughout the rest of the night.

  A knock on the door awakened her, and she looked over at Jeremiah before answering. He looked peaceful and free of pain. Her heart lurched, and she grabbed his wrist. His skin was warm, his pulse strong. She rose and went to the door.

  Dr. Barker entered the room and stopped to talk to her before approaching the bed. “How is he?”

  “He’s alive and breathing,” Sarah said, “but I’m a bit worried he’s been delirious.”

  “Delirious?” Dr. Barker looked toward the bed again. “In what way? Has he been muttering in his sleep? Tossing and turning?”

  “No, he seems to have slept fine. He just—” Sarah took a breath. “He was just saying some very odd things last night.”

  “Was he not able to speak clearly? Or not speak in English?”

  “No, he spoke clearly,” she said. “It’s more what he said, you know?”

  “I do not know, Miss Chilton. Please explain.”

  “His personality seemed altered. He wasn’t quite himself.”

  “He had quite a shock. As did you. It is no wonder that he did not seem himself. In what way was he different?”

  Sarah’s cheeks flamed. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I do know, but maybe it wasn’t medically relevant.”

  “I think that would be my job to assess, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Chilton?” His tone was kind but firm. “Please explain.”

  “Okay, but it sounds silly now that I try to talk about it. My concerns, that is. Anyway, I haven’t known Jeremiah long, but he’s always seemed very conservative? You know—reticent? Unemotional? Practical?”

  “Are you asking me?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Then I would agree. Jeremiah is a very practical man not given to emotional outbursts. Was he emotional last night? Teary even? Sudden trauma can bring that on, especially when adrenaline recedes. You yourself may have experienced some strong emotions.”

  “He wasn’t exactly teary.”

  “Was he temperamental? Perhaps a curmudgeon? Again, such an injury could have left him with temporary fits of ill humor. The pain alone in his head must trouble him.”

  “No, he wasn’t temperamental,” Sarah said.

  “What then, Miss Chilton?”

  Dr. Barker sounded exasperated, and she didn’t blame him. He wanted an explanation, so she couldn’t just tell him to forget about it. “He was romantic, effusive, flowery, affectionate, silly.”

  Dr. Barker blinked and stared at Sarah. “Did he behave offensively? Perhaps try to manhandle you?”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “You think that Jeremiah wasn’t quite himself because he flirted with you?”

  “Well, I said I didn’t think it was medically relevant after all. I sure did last night though. It was totally unlike him.”

  Dr. Barker’s lips started to broaden and then he smiled widely.

  “Perhaps he had an epiphany. Near-death experiences can often do that.”

  “An epiphany,” Sarah repeated dryly. “Really.”

  Dr. Barker smirked some more. “You are an attractive young woman. If his behavior did not offend you, I do not think you should worry about his mental state. It is possible he will not remember.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Let me go examine him.” Dr. Barker passed her, still smiling, and walked to the bed. Jeremiah awakened, and Dr. Barker greeted him. “Good morning, Jeremiah.”

  “Mornin’, Doc,” Jeremiah said.

  “How do you feel?” Dr. Barker examined Jeremiah’s eyes.

  “Groggy,” he said. “I have a headache.”

  “That is not surprising.” Dr. Barker lifted an edge of Jeremiah’s bandage and peered at the wound before dropping it. “I see no fresh bleeding. That is good.”<
br />
  He glanced at Sarah, then turned back to Jeremiah.

  “Are you seeing or hearing things? Any hallucinations?”

  Jeremiah tilted his head. “No, I don’t think so. From a bump on the head?”

  Dr. Barker glanced at Sarah again, who held her breath, hoping he wasn’t about to disclose what she had confided in him.

  “Your injury is much more severe than a ‘bump on the head.’ Do you remember the events of last night?”

  Jeremiah looked beyond the doctor to Sarah, and her cheeks burned.

  “No, not after I saw you last night, Doctor. I think I went to sleep. Didn’t I, Sarah?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jeremiah’s heart dropped when he heard Sarah telling Dr. Barker that he had not been himself the night before. As much as his head had pained him, he had been alert and in possession of his senses when he had told her how he felt, when he had begged her to stay, to marry him.

  Clearly, she had not taken him seriously, instead choosing to consider his offer of marriage as “silly.” He didn’t blame her, but his heart hurt nonetheless.

  In other circumstances, he might have courted Sarah slowly, but the events of the previous night had been anything but normal. Further, she was on the verge of leaving, and he had chosen to speak out rather than let her go without knowing how he felt.

  He lied to the doctor. He lied to Sarah. “No, not after I saw you last night, Doctor. I think I went to sleep. Didn’t I, Sarah?”

  “Sometime later, yes.” Her small shoulders sagged as if with relief. Clearly she had been afraid he would renew his passionate entreaties. He sighed.

  “Then you do not remember talking to Miss Chilton last night?” Dr. Barker pressed.

  “Not after you left, no,” he lied. “Why do you ask?”

  “Miss Chilton said—”

  “You just mumbled some stuff,” Sarah said quickly. “I’m not sure what you were talking about.”

  Dr. Barker looked at her, aware that she was lying. Jeremiah knew it too. She had just told the doctor differently.

  “Hmmm,” Jeremiah replied. “I don’t remember.”

  “I’m concerned you have some memory loss. I would expect any loss of memory to surround the events of your injury, but you do remember the attack.”

  “I do,” Jeremiah said.

  “Yet not conversations you had last night.”