So Rare a Gift (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 3)

by Amber Lynn Perry

  “Come. And let us pray we are not too late.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  William called for him even before he reached the house.

  “Nathaniel! Nathaniel!”

  Anna groaned and he looked down, the sight of her white cheeks sending his pulse to ramming speed.

  The backdoor burst open and Nathaniel hurried out. “What’s happ—” He stopped, his mouth dropping open, voice deep with command. “Bring her in.” He swung back toward the house. “Kitty!”

  Kitty rushed to the door just as William hurried into the small surgery. She thrust her hands to her chest. “William! What’s happened?”

  “I shot her.” Speaking the horrid truth made his limbs weaken.

  “What?” Nathaniel jerked to a halt.

  William didn’t answer until he’d rested Anna on the table. “My bullet was meant for Paul—he was readying to fire at me and Anna…she…she pushed him aside to save me from—” He couldn’t finish.

  Nathaniel’s firm look answered without the need to voice it, and he raised his shears preparing to cut through her clothes. “Kitty, prepare the bandages and needle and thread.”

  She whirled to the cupboard when Nathaniel began to cut. Though the shears snipped through her fabric, ’twas William that felt the cut of the blade. It should be my flesh that is torn, my blood that is spilled. Ropes of guilt twined with fury and tightened around his neck as he stared at his wife’s limp form.

  Nathaniel flashed a quick look to William. “Tell me all.”

  William swallowed to ease the lump that lodged in his throat. “The force of the shot propelled her backward and she hit her head.” His voice wobbled and he wiped a hand over his mouth. Dearest Lord, do not take her from me.

  Nathaniel frowned and released his shears. Reaching for her head, he dotted his fingers around her skull. “A large lump but no gash or crack in her skull.” Returning to his previous task, he pulled away the fabric of her stays to reveal the chemise beneath.

  Glistening red soaked through the small gash in the fabric. William curled his fists and clamped his jaw to keep from speaking the stream of panicked questions that flooded his mouth.

  Kitty neared with the supplies just as Nathaniel tore open the fabric to reveal the wound in Anna’s flesh.

  Nathaniel and Kitty spoke in quiet tones as they worked. William’s nerves were shattered. How long would this take? He tossed a look to Warren who waited outside the surgery door. His arms were crossed over his chest, his mouth hard and eyes soft with pain for the daughter he loved.

  Nathaniel straightened, touching his wife at the small of her back. “Take these to the basin to be washed.”

  “Aye, my dear.” As Kitty passed, basket of blood-covered cloths and instruments in her arms, she offered William a tight, reassuring smile before hurrying to the kitchen.

  With a sigh, Nathaniel turned and cupped William on the shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak but stalled when his eyes landed on Warren.

  Warren uncrossed his arms and glanced between the two as if he understood the need for husband and doctor to discuss matters in private. With a curt nod he started for the backdoor, but not without allowing himself one last glimpse of his daughter. He exited and closed the door behind him.

  William yanked Nathaniel’s arm. “Well?”

  Nathaniel glared after Warren, not answering quick enough to satisfy William’s anxiety. Gripping harder, William strained to keep his voice even. “Will she be all right? Will she live?”

  “Calm yourself.” Nathaniel clapped William on the shoulder, smacking him back from the edge of the crevasse of despair that threatened to consume him. “She will be well, God be praised,” he said, releasing an audible sigh. “The ball grazed her ribs, broke one of them, in fact. I believe the blow to her head caused her to lose consciousness, but she will be well.”

  William gripped the table as relief blew through his muscles like a spring wind—chilled, but edged with a promise of warmer days to come. “I thought I had lost her.”

  “Nay, my friend. Praise the Lord for that.” A reverent smile etched across Nathaniel’s face before he once again turned solemn. “’Tis dangerous for any person to be wounded as she, but most especially for a woman with child. Not to worry, they are both—”

  “With child?” William froze. He couldn’t have heard right.

  Nathaniel’s expression folded, his response frayed with strands of both surprise and remorse. “I…I thought she had already told you. Forgive me, I would never have said anything but, under the circumstances—”

  “But Anna cannot bear children.” William shook his head, grappling for the bit of truth that swung just out of reach. “You must be joking.”

  Nathaniel slanted his head, not a hint of mirth in his tone. “You know I would not jest about something of this nature.”

  William looked to Anna then back to Nathaniel, and the doubt he carried slipped through his fingers as the grin on Nathaniel’s face widened. William stepped toward the table, speaking to his friend but looking at his wife. “You are in earnest. She is…she is with child.”

  “I have not been more earnest in all my life. Her discomforts of late make it difficult to believe ’tis anything else.” A slight smile, one fringed with regret tightened his mouth. “I am sorry. I know she had wished to be the one to tell you.”

  William glanced over his shoulder with a nod then looked back to his wife. The slightest pink had returned to her cheeks, and the up and down of her chest allowed his own lungs to take in air with less strain. His throat, constricted with a swell of emotions allowed only the slightest sound when he spoke. “How far along?”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Early. Another month or so and you will know for certain.”

  Like sunshine on a hillside, the realization washed over William, warming him with its light. “I cannot believe it.” He stepped beside the table and stroked his fingers against her cheek. “So that has been the cause of her discomforts.”

  From behind, Nathaniel gripped William’s shoulder. “Our God is a God of miracles, William, and I do believe the two of you have been given one.”

  Slowly, the blood returned to his limbs and he turned to his friend. “She will be all right then?”

  “Aye, indeed.” He pulled a blanket over her and motioned to the door. “She is stable enough to travel. Let us take her back home in our wagon. There she can heal in her own surroundings.”

  The memory of Paul’s body on the floor of his home surged to the forefront. “But I’ve a body there.”

  “What? Whose body?”

  William didn’t answer but continued with his thought. “I don’t know what to do…”

  “Let me take the man’s body to his father.”

  Both William and Nathaniel turned to see Warren standing by the study.

  William inclined his head. When had he come back in? How much had he heard? “You would do that?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Why would I not? I will tell them he told me his name before he died and that he wished his body to be returned to his family.”

  “How can you be sure they will believe your tale?”

  He only smiled. “Your wife’s estate is vast. I do not need to tell them from whence I came to such funds, but I suspect any concerns they have regarding the man’s untimely demise will find a quick end when they are made aware of the expanse of my pocketbook.”

  William pushed a quick breath from his lungs. “Sir, how can I properly thank you? You have saved both our lives this evening.”

  A deep smile widened his face, erasing the grief-stricken years that had before lined his eyes. “And it seems, from what I hear, another life that is just beginning.” He neared and rested a hand on William’s arm as he looked to Anna. “You will soon know the depth of a father’s love.”

  Turning, he went to the door and exited, stopping briefly on the stoop. “When I have attended to this obligation, I shall return, if you are agreeable.”

/>   “Aye, of course.”

  He gave a quick nod. “I too, do not wish to return to England.”

  ~~~

  Anna blinked, the pain in her side owning her attentions before the low throbbing that thumped in her head. She raised her arm and rubbed her eyes, once more blinking to focus her blurry vision. The bluish hue of winter daylight dusted in from the window and the fire sputtered. As her vision cleared, the familiar surroundings of the bedchamber calmed the sudden rise of fear. She was home. But where was William? What had happened—why was she abed?

  She gasped and her throat seized. Tears burned her eyes as the still-sharp memories cut through the fog of pain. Shouts. Gun shots. Burning in her side and a strike against her head. Then blackness. She bolted rigid and pressed her hands to her belly. No, no, no, no! Please, Lord in heaven, no! A low, moaning wail ached its way through her chest, echoing her grief through the lonely room. The child was lost. It must be. How could something so small and precious survive something so grave? Sobbing, she kept one hand on her middle, covering her face with the other. She had lost everything. The man she loved and the child she’d hoped might be living within. Both things more precious than her own life, stripped from her forever.

  Again William’s biting words and hard eyes nipped at her torn spirit, and she moaned as a wave of anguish crashed over her. She gasped through her tears before another storm of grief assailed her, hot tears running past her ears to the pillow.

  “Anna?”

  Someone rushed in and she turned away, heedless of the pain that slashed through her as she rolled to her side.

  “Kitty, bring the broth. She will need to eat.”

  Anna stilled, moving her hand from her face as the sound of the voice whispered through her like an unbidden memory. Nay, it could not be true.

  A figure dented the bed behind her before a warm hand touched her hair. “Anna, I am here. Tell me what pains you, my love.”

  She gasped and turned, disbelief plating her pains in gold. This could not be. It was too wondrous.

  Blinking the moisture from her eyes she stared, unsure if she should allow such a vision to take hold should it be no more than a dream.

  “William?”

  He nodded, his mouth bowing in a soft smile, but ’twas only when he touched her face that she knew ’twas not a mere wish of her heart.

  “I—” She put a hand to her mouth to cover her quivering face. “I thought you had left me—that you had that man take me away—”

  “Never would I leave you.” William’s forehead pinched and he leaned forward, cupping her cheeks with his hands. His expression crumpled, his words fissured with pain. “Why? Why did you do it? You could have been killed, and I would have died of grief knowing ’twas by my hand. If I had lost you…”

  Lost.

  Like a wave in a tempest, the grief assailed her again and she covered her mouth, the sudden wails she could not suppress contorting her face. She gasped between sobs as William gently gripped her shoulders.

  “What is wrong, my love?”

  “I have…” She hovered her trembling hand over her mouth as she struggled to speak. “I have lost our baby.” The very sound of the words ground through her spirit like a millstone against grain, grinding to dust the longings she’d carried so many years.

  “Nay, Anna.” William scooted closer on the bed, bending toward her and speaking over her cries. “Hush, my love, please. Nathaniel assured me our baby is well.”

  The next cry stalled in her throat, but her hiccoughing breath still chopped through her words. “He did?”

  Could it be true? Nay, she dared not believe it.

  She blinked the moisture that still flooded her eyes and William’s smile stroked the quaking in her spirit. “Aye, he did.” William reached in his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, dotting it against her cheeks. “’Twas of great concern to him, to be sure the babe was not in danger.” He leaned closer still, his own eyes misting. Stroking her tear-streaked face with his hands, while his words stroked her spirit. “You are with child, Anna. We shall have a child.”

  Tears pricked again, but no longer from grief. She took his hand from her face and held it against her chest. “I can hardly believe it.”

  A reverent sparkle lit his eyes. “I can. ’Tis a miracle indeed and I could not think of anyone more worthy.” He lowered his gaze, pulling his lip between his teeth before meeting her stare once more. “I know you had wished to tell me. I hope you do not—”

  “Is she all right?” Kitty’s voice burst through the room as she entered, when she stopped abruptly. “Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She rested a tray on the table, love stretching from her eyes and embracing Anna from a distance. She paused and touched William’s shoulder. “There is someone who wishes to see you.”

  She nodded to Anna then William before turning for the door.

  William pivoted, allowing Anna a clear view of the doorway, and the man who stood in its shadow. Her neck tensed as if the very hand of fear wished to strangle her, but William’s gentle touch and his welcoming gesture to the stranger eased her tensing muscles.

  The man neared, standing at the end of the bed. William then turned back to Anna, brushing a hand down her arm and twining his fingers with hers. “My love, you must meet Warren Fox.”

  The man stepped forward, gripping his hat in his fingers in front of him. His face warmed, tenderness coaxing an unfamiliar longing in Anna’s soul.

  He opened his mouth then closed it, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Anna…” The man stopped again, looking to William and back again before the words streamed from him like a mountain brook. “You do not know me, but I know you—have known you since you and Samuel were born.”

  Anna stared, motionless. He spoke her name, and Samuel’s, with such familiar care it lured a memory to light. Or had it been a dream?

  “Your mother and I were desperately in love and our passions over came us. When she learned she was with child, we planned to flee, to live our lives free from the demands of society that held her prisoner. But she was forced to marry the man who claimed you and your brother as his own.”

  The words smoothed over her like soft cloth. “You are my father.”

  “Aye.” Moisture pooled in his eyes and he rounded the bed’s corner. Stopping beside her, he glanced to her hand and motioned to her fingers. “I gave that ring to your mother the day before she was married, and she vowed she would wear it always.”

  Anna’s eyes burned. “She did. I never saw her without it.”

  Warren’s throat shifted, emotion welling in his face. “I know.”

  A tear blinked free and she brushed it away, the words of the ring glowing in her memory. This man had loved her mother—and she him. This was why she had so insisted that Anna marry for love, because she herself had been denied the choice.

  “I have never loved another woman in all my life,” Warren said. “And I have loved you and your brother more with every sunrise, though I was not free to show it.” Bowing, he kissed Anna’s hair. “Forgive me for not providing for you and Samuel as I wished, for not being at liberty to protect you from so much sorrow.” He swallowed, as if struggling against a rise of pain. “Forgive me, as well, for frightening you that day.” He looked to William then Anna. “It seems God has turned our chaos into harmony. I will be your servant the rest of my days.”

  More tears threatened, her throat thickening. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “You need say nothing, my dear.” He kissed her again. “When you wish to speak more, you need only call for me.” Retreating backward, he turned and exited, closing the door behind him.

  Staring, Anna fumbled with the beautiful weight of such a shocking revelation, praying with a gratitude she had never known. Thy goodness is unbound, Lord. How can I even be worthy of such happiness? When again His quiet words returned to her, filling her soul as only the God of heaven can do. Forget not He who loveth thee.

 
She closed her eyes, the simple expression embracing her like the very arms of God. Thank you, Lord. Thank you. She turned to William. “How long have you known?”

  “I learned this only yesterday when I sought his help in protecting you from…” His lips pursed and he lowered his gaze. “From Stockton.”

  “He is gone?”

  “He is dead.” After the last word, William’s eyes shot to hers.

  The weight of their past tribulations hovered between them and she yearned for his nearness. Pushing herself up, she grimaced, the stabbing pain in her ribs protesting the movement. William reached carefully around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest as he leaned back against the pillows. No sound between them. Just the rustling of Kitty and Warren in the parlor, the comforting accompaniment of the popping fire. Anna closed her eyes, and in the silence, could feel their hearts beat as one.

  She exhaled a soft breath from her nose and gripped her arms around him. “I despise that man for speaking such slanderous lies. I am so sorry, William.”

  A slight groan rumbled in his throat. His chest rose and fell. “My name is not William. It is Henry.”

  ~~~

  Henry stared at the ceiling, hearing the words he’d just spoken spin through the room again and again.

  Anna pulled away. “What do you mean?”

  Inhaling to fill his lungs more with courage than with air, he prayed for strength. “What Stockton said of me is true. I am Henry Donaldson and I knew your brother. I was there the night he died.”

  What little color had returned to her cheeks seemed to deepen. “You were there?”

  “Aye.”

  “You knew him?” Her eyes rounded, a slight peak of her eyebrows signaling the question before she spoke. “Why did you not tell me, my love?”

  My love? She would still call him that? Henry stilled, the beat of his pulse stalling. Where was the anger, the hate? Would she not pull away and call him the vilest of men? She did not. Not the hint of enmity. Just shock. And hope.

  Henry shook his head. “I have not known long. And I did plan to tell you, but I wanted the time to be right—”