Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

by T. Novan

  The bath was concluded as quickly as possible. Each had their reasons for wanting to hurry through it. Charlie did not want to embarrass himself any more than he already had. And if Rebecca kept looking at him and tending to him in his current state of undress, the arousal she inspired in him would be more than a little uncomfortable, even in his current state of exhaustion. Rebecca wanted to touch Charlie, to explore the feel and texture of those muscles and skin, because Charlie was, without question, the most fascinating thing she had ever seen, combining the best of both genders. He was a strong woman, a delicate man or maybe something entirely different.

  For now, the nightshirt that had been warming by the fire was Charlie’s immediate objective. To get dry and warm, and covered, and then get some sleep were all that he was capable of for now.

  Rebecca insisted he get another mug of broth, which he took with him as they went upstairs to the bedroom. She had built a small fire in the room, and it had burned down to glowing coals. Shoveling a few into the bed warmer, Rebecca ran the copper pan under the covers, warming the cool sheets before Charlie gratefully tumbled into the bed. He was asleep within seconds of his head touching the pillow. She gently tucked the comforter around him and stood beside the bed just looking at his face, relaxed and somehow innocent in sleep, regardless of the horrors he had seen.

  Then she turned, banked the fire and trudged downstairs to try and rescue his mud caked clothing.

  --*--

  Charlie’s dream began much as it always had when he was hurt, tired or sick as a child. He had not had this dream in almost twenty years. She was small, still wearing the short white dress and stockings of a very young child. And there were warm arms around her, a soft shoulder to rest her head on, a safe haven when the world was too much for the little girl. A low voice, softly accented would sing, sometimes in French, sometimes in English, songs that the child loved.

  The water is wide, I cannot get o ’ er

  Neither have I the wings to fly.

  Give me a ship that can carry two,

  And both will cross, my love and I.

  The child looked up, trusting and safe, into the pale blue eyes of one long missed person.

  "Maman."

  The ice-eyes smiled.

  Charlie faded back into dreamless sleep.

  --*--

  Thursday, November 17, 1864

  Rebecca woke, quite early, for some unknown reason. Clearly, it was still very dark out, and Charlie was still curled up behind her with a strong arm wrapped around her waist. Actually, truth be told, it was she that always initiated the contact once they were both in bed. She would lie on her side and listen until Charlie’s breathing slowed to a constant rhythm, and then she would roll over and get as close as she dared without waking her companion.

  She did not realize how much she had missed and craved the warmth and comfort of another body until Charlie began sharing her bed. To her surprise and once that passed, her great delight, the Colonel always moved closer, wrapping her in strong arms and making her feel very, very safe as well. It had been years since she slept as well as she did when Charlie shared her bed.

  And two nights ago, when he had not come in because of the storm, she had not only worried about the officer, but she realized she missed him as well. She had a very difficult time falling asleep, finding it impossible until she rolled over and pulled Charlie’s pillow into her arms.

  Then she heard the noise that had disturbed her slumber. It was Charlie. There was a quiet but very persistent wheeze coming from the Colonel that was not her normal soft snore. Carefully Rebecca rolled over and placed a hand to Charlie’s face. She felt the skin under her hand. It was so hot it was almost painful to touch. Moving away slowly, she got up from bed, quickly lighting a lamp to really get a good look at her companion. Charlie’s skin was reddened considerably and slight beads of perspiration had broken across her forehead.

  "Good Lord, Charlie, I told you, you would catch your death out there in that storm." Moving to the other side of the room, she poured a basin of water from the pitcher and collected cloths from the cabinet underneath. Taking it back to the bed, she placed the wet cool cloths on Charlie’s forehead and neck.

  The Colonel stirred, coughing as he came further into wakefulness. It did not take long for him to realize he felt awful. He had not felt this bad since Jocko assured him it was all right to ‘‘have just one more’ when they had visited the local bar outside of Sedonia, Missouri that housed a house of quiet, or in some cases not so quiet, pleasure.

  "Ungh……" Was all he could manage before trying to lick impossibly dry lips.

  Gently, Rebecca brushed a damp cloth across Charlie’s lips to help the process. "You are sick." She whispered needlessly.

  Charlie was very well aware of the fact he was sick. If it were not for the tender caring of the woman at his side, the good Colonel would wish himself dead, so he would feel better. His body was hot, his chest, head and stomach hurt as if he had been kicked by the biggest horse in the stables. Closing his eyes to keep the room from spinning and his stomach from rolling, he merely nodded his head. Gently.

  "Guess who is staying in bed today, Colonel Redmond."

  The thought of protest crossed his mind. Then the rolling sensation crossed his stomach. The protest tucked its tail between its legs and dutifully lay down in the corner of Charlie’s mind.

  "Jocko……" He rasped, softly for fear of yet another coughing jag.

  "You leave it to me, Charlie. I will see to it that we get word to Jocko."

  "Thank you."

  "And in the meantime, Charlie Redmond, you will stay in this bed and you will do everything I tell you to do."

  "Yes, Ma’am." Charlie just really felt too bad to argue. Besides, he was learning rather quickly that Rebecca Gaines had a stubborn streak a mile wide and when her mind was set to something, it was just better not to argue, because when she was riled, Rebecca could talk the ear off the Devil.

  A smile curled at the Colonel’s lips when another cool cloth was place across his burning forehead and gently fingers combed through his damp hair. He could feel her breathing on his cheek and hear her whispering in his ear. "Rest, Charlie, I will be right back with something to help your chest."

  Unable to open his eyes for fear of what would happen to the contents of his stomach, he listened as she left the room. He could hear a slight creaking in the stairs as Rebecca descended them.

  He pushed down the covers, feeling far to hot with them on. A shaky hand traveled to his nightshirt and he felt the wetness that had been absorbed from his sweating skin. He moaned as his hand dropped back to the bed. Turning his head slowly, he could see it was still very dark out and he wondered what woke Miss Rebecca.

  Then he realized he must have been fussing in his sleep and awakened her. He listened as she made her way back up the stairs, holding a plate with a steaming towel on it. He wanted to tell her he would be out of her way soon, that he would go back to his tent until he felt better, but the words just would not pass through his dry mouth and thick tongue.

  Suddenly he had no choice but to open his eyes when he felt the button being opened on his nightshirt. He turned his head and looked at her with wide, startled eyes.

  "Relax, Colonel, it is only a mustard plaster for your chest. It is all right, I am not going to hurt you."

  Being hurt was the last thing on Charlie’s mind. The first thing was the gentle touch of this lady’s hand as she applied the medicine cloth to his chest. They never broke eye contact the entire time it was being done and Rebecca’s sweet smile reminded him it was okay. He need not worry; he was just as safe with her as she felt with him. She would not tell his secret or betray his trust.

  "Relax." She whispered again.

  His mind began to reel with her tender touches, continuously replacing old clothes with fresh wet ones to cool his fevered brow. He closed his eyes, absorbing the comfort she was offering. It had been a very long time since someone othe
r than Jocko or Dr. Walker had taken care of him. He imagined that the man who would eventually have Rebecca as a wife would be the luckiest man alive. Charlie only hoped that whoever it would be would have the good sense to cherish the woman. He relaxed even further, knowing that he was falling asleep and unable to stop it.

  Rebecca watched as Charlie’s eyes closed. She could not help but smile. She did feel sorry that the Colonel was sick, but falling into a peaceful slumber as he was, she felt good that she was able to relieve some of the distress. She brushed her fingers through damp hair, smoothing it back.

  "Rest well, dear Charlie." She placed a tender kiss on the Colonel’s forehead, lowered the wick on the lamp and quietly left the room to let Charlie rest.

  As the sun came up, Rebecca saw Sergeant Jackson, riding up to the house. She moved the pot of mint tea she had been preparing for Charlie to a hot plate on the stove, then moved to the backdoor. Opening it, she smiled at Charlie’s friend as he climbed the steps.

  "Good morning, Sergeant Jackson."

  "Good morning, Ma’am. I am here to inquire about Colonel Redmond. He has not returned to camp this morning."

  "Yes, Sergeant, I know. Colonel Redmond is quite ill this morning. He is upstairs asleep."

  "Ill?" Jocko’s brows came together. "Should I send the medic?"

  "No, Sergeant. It is a cold. A bad one I am afraid, but just a cold. I can take care of the Colonel. There is no need to bother your medic. He is upstairs in the master bedroom if you would like to go see him. I am making him some mint tea. I doubt he will be able to hold down much more than that."

  "Yes, Ma’am, I do need to speak with him."

  "Up the stairs, last door on the right."

  "Thank you, Ma’am."

  She returned to tending to the tea, listening to the sound of Sergeant Jackson’s boots as he climbed the stairs.

  After the sergeant left to carry out the Colonel’s orders for the day, Rebecca prepared a tray of mint tea and warm bread. Returning to the bedroom, she found Charlie rolled on his side with his back to her. "Colonel?" She inquired softly in order not to wake him if he was sleeping.

  Slowly he rolled over, opening blood shot eyes and gracing her with a smile. "Miss Rebecca."

  "I brought you a little breakfast."

  "I do not think……"

  "Hush. You need to understand that while you are under my care, Colonel, you will do as I say."

  He nodded. "Yes, Ma’am."

  Placing the tray on the floor, she helped Charlie sit up, with his back against the headboard. Taking a moment to fluff his pillows and straighten the blankets. Then she picked up the tray and placed it across his lap. "This is just mint tea with a little honey. It will ease your stomach. Try and eat a bit of the bread too." She poured the tea, before taking a seat on the bed next to Charlie. "Come on now. Just a little, to make you feel better and help you keep your strength up."

  Charlie found the tea extremely soothing. He had not really noticed until now but his throat was raw and sore as well.

  He closed his eyes, savoring the soothing steam from the cup and the soft aroma. That was, however, an error. As soon as he did, his head started spinning. Panicking a bit, he opened his eyes and thrust the cup into her hands. "Uh. Basin. Please"

  Rebecca had been expecting this unfortunate turn of events and quickly placed a basin at the side of the bed and helped Charlie roll onto his side, with his head just slightly off the edge of the bed. She sat patiently and rubbed soothing circles on his back as he tried to decide if he were going to be sick.

  Taking careful deep breaths, Charlie focused on the top of the small chest of drawers across the room from him until his rebellious stomach decided that the tea was acceptable and would be allowed to remain. He allowed himself to roll back onto the pillows and just collected himself.

  "Thank you. I was afraid that it was not going to stay put. You have been so kind to care for me, Miss Rebecca." Just those few words seemed to tire him.

  "It is my pleasure, Colonel. It is the least I can do for you. I want you to rest and get better. Your men are going to need you." And I am going to need you. That last thought startled Rebecca for a moment, but she realized it was very true. She and Charlie had started a hen war in town and she was not going into the battle alone.

  "Perhaps I could have a little more tea? Your kind caring cannot help but make me feel better soon, ma'am."

  Charlie lay there, trying to be gallant. Well, trying to be civil. Just talking was a strain. Maybe the bed would just absorb me. It would feel better than this.

  Rebecca helped him with the tea, smiling gently, wishing there was more she could do for him. "The good news is the storm has let up. A little too late for you I am afraid."

  Charlie groaned. "Oh Lord. My men. How are my men? Did Jocko come by? Is Polk taking care of them? How much damage?"

  She ran her fingers through his hair. "I know you do not feel well, Charlie, but do not you remember Sergeant Jackson coming by earlier? You sent him off with his orders for the day."

  Without thinking, Charlie leaned his head into her hand. He felt so miserable and her touch felt so good. He wanted to just lay his head on her breast and be held like a child. A vague memory flitted through his mind, of a lovely, delicate woman with dark hair and laughing blue eyes who had held him in her lap when he was small and sick and made it better.

  After she left, there was no one who took care of him when he was sick. Until now. Unbidden, and unwanted, tears came to his eyes.

  "Oh, Charlie," She soothed. "It is going to be all right. You just need to rest. I will take good care of you, you need not worry about a thing." She just wanted to hold him and make him believe it the way she did.

  He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly, leaning back against the pillow again. "Oh yes. Yes. I remember. The damage is not as bad as I feared." Turning to look into her eyes, needing at least a little more contact, he felt an aching loneliness that, coupled with his illness, made him more miserable.

  The look in his eyes was one she had never seen before. It was the look of a child, a lonely, lost, miserable child. Then he dropped his eyes to her hand, lifting it and tenderly kissing the back of her hand. "Thank you. Perhaps I could handle a little bread?"

  She broke off small pieces of bread feeding them to him from her own hand. "Is there anything more I can do for you? You will ask me if there is, will you not? Do not make me guess, Colonel, it is hard telling what I will do to you if left to my own devices." She teased a bit as he took another bite of the bread.

  In a very small voice, punctuated by his careful chewing and swallowing of the small bit of bread, he responded, "I do not know what to ask. Usually when I am sick, I just stay in my tent and Jocko brings me water every so often."

  A coughing fit took him for a moment, but the tickle in his throat was eased by another sip of the tea that Rebecca handed to him. "Eventually, I get better."

  He continued to eat the bread, savoring the feather light touch of her fingers against his lips as she fed him.

  "Well, you will need more than water to get through this. If you can think of anything, and I mean anything, that will help you. Do not be afraid to speak up."

  "Please, just stay with me." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Just being with her made him feel better. It had been so long since anyone cared for him - just for him, that he craved this companionship like a dying man craves water.

  "I swear to you, Charlie, I am not going anywhere. I will be right here with you. I promise."

  He caught her hand and brought it to his cheek. It felt so cool and so soft. His voice was husky, but she could not tell if it was because of the cold or something else. "You are so kind to me, Miss Rebecca. I am sorry to be so childish and demanding. I just……" He looked into her eyes as he slowly, reluctantly let go of her hand. Weakened by the cold and fever, shaken by the impact of the memory of his mother who had died when he was only four, all of the pain and loneliness a
nd despair of his life showed in that moment.

  "Shush, now do not be ridiculous. You are not being the least bit demanding. And I told you I enjoy taking care of you. In a few short weeks, you have given me back something I did not realize was missing. It is nice to have someone who needs me again."

  "I did not mean to impose. But it does feel nice to be tended. I... I have not had anyone take care of me like this since I was very small. You could spoil me. Why, if this was how you take care of sick people, I might have to get sick more often." A weak attempt at humor was about all Charlie could manage right now, but he had to do something. He was desperate to get the relationship back to a more even keel, or he was going to break down and beg to be held.

  Rebecca sighed, shaking her head. Colonel Redmond was a tough nut to crack, it was becoming clearer with each passing day. "Colonel, let us get one thing very clear. You are not imposing." There was so much she wanted to say but she was not sure how much was appropriate right now. She had only known him for a short time, but she was beginning to feel as if she had known him forever and as much as it amazed her, she really did feel affection for him, even after such a short time.

  "I care about you, Charlie, and I want to see you better very soon. You have an inspection coming up and I hope to bribe you into another wonder ride before the weather turns."

  "Well then, Ma'am, I will surely get better quickly under your care, and Shannon is always there to be at your service."

  He smiled wanly at her, and went on. "But, Miss Rebecca, we have taken over your farm, you life, we have made things uncomfortable for you with your neighbors, and I have taken over your bed and used it as a sick room. If that is not imposing?"

  She smoothed the blankets at his chest. "It is not, trust me when I tell you this. If it were you would most certainly find yourself in your tent on a very hard army cot." She looked out the window. It was still very early and Charlie needed to rest. "I think you need to sleep, Colonel. And I could most certainly take a catnap. Would you be terribly uncomfortable if I settled in on my side of the bed for a bit of rest?"