Adam's Promise (15 page)

She didn't move. He found the pulse at her wrist. “She's alive!”

He and John pulled broken pieces of wood off her, most of them small shingles and splintered planks. When he uncovered her face, he saw that it was scratched and cut.

One larger beam had pinned her leg and was not so easy to move. “John, can you reach the end of it?”

John moved a few more planks out of the way and crawled to Diana's feet. “Yes, sir, Mr. Coates.”

“When I say
go,
we'll lift at the same time. Ready?” They each gripped a section of the beam. “Go!”

Groaning at the impossible effort, they pulled the beam off her leg and tossed it aside. Adam scrambled to see where Diana was injured. He lifted her skirts. Her leg was twisted and her stocking was soaked in blood. “This doesn't look good. We have to get her home. Help me, John, that's it, take her arms. Madeline! Bring my horse!”

They handed Diana down like a heavy, limp doll. A few minutes later, Adam was high on his horse, cradling Diana in his arms. The others mounted and they started off across the sodden marsh toward the ridge.

“John, will you fetch the doctor? Do you know where he lives?”

“Yes, sir.” Without hesitation, John pushed ahead, struggling over the flooded ground to the uplands, finally reaching the road and disappearing over the hill.

Charlie rode behind Adam and Madeline, all of them keeping their heads down, protecting their faces from the driving wind and rain. It was dusk now, growing darker by the minute.

“Will she be all right?” Madeline asked.

Adam shifted Diana in his arms. “I don't know. All we can do is pray.”

They walked their horses along a fence, reaching the edge of the marsh. The road to the uplands was at last within reach.

Suddenly a low, thunderous roar stopped all of them in their tracks. Charlie, behind them, called out, “Father, what's that noise?”

They could see little through the gray, turbulent dusk, but the noise continued, like the terrifying rumble of the sea. Adam turned in the saddle. “Hurry, Charlie, we've got to reach the road!”

His son was farther back, his horse laboring through the shallow waters that had gradually covered the entire marsh around them. “Dante can't go any faster!”

“Try!” They all continued toward the road. Adam was the first to reach dry, higher ground, with Madeline close behind him. “Madeline, take my horse with Diana and go home. I have to help Charlie.”

“But I can't leave you here!”

“You have to. Your sister's life depends upon it.”

Madeline reluctantly changed places with him.

Charlie called out, “Father!”

Both Adam and Madeline turned toward the marsh. From their height just above, they saw a wave sweeping toward them at great speed from the river, taking with it whatever stood in its path: hay, fence rails, cattle and sheep. The dykes had all but disappeared beneath the great tidal surge.

Panic welled up in Adam as he watched his youngest son turn to look over his shoulder. Adam ran down the hill. “Charlie! Ride!”

He heard Madeline calling out to him but couldn't stop. He ran splashing into the water just as the wave swept up behind Charlie and lifted both him and his horse off their feet.

A
dam continued to sprint toward Charlie, finally being swept off his own feet by the waves. Ice-cold water covered his head. He pushed himself to the surface and swam toward his son, who was flailing in the frigid, rough waters, calling for help.

Reaching Charlie at last and gathering his coat collar in a tight fist, Adam hauled him through the water in the direction of the ridge. “Swim, Charlie!”

Frigid waves crashed over their heads; Adam gasped frantically for air. His heavy coat, tangling around him, made it almost impossible to move and stay afloat in the dark waters, let alone swim to shore. The sound of the water surging all around them was deafening and the water was filling his ears and nostrils. He could taste the salt in his mouth, feel the grit of the marsh mud between his teeth.

Adam heard Charlie make a low cry of defeat behind him. He shouted again, “Swim!” and struggled harder against the weight of his clothes. His fingers, in a tight fist around Charlie's coat, ached from the cold, but he would not let go. He would never let go.

Then, by some great gift of fate, another surge swept them both toward the edge of the marsh and Adam grabbed onto a fence pole, the top barely visible in the gray waters. They made their way along the fence and climbed upward to dry ground, where they collapsed in heaps of exhaustion.

Adam turned to look at Charlie. “Are you hurt?”

Charlie shook his head.

From somewhere outside his muddled consciousness, Adam heard the faint sound of Madeline's voice. “Adam! Adam!”

He sat up. The wind gusted past him, pressing his cold, wet clothing hard against his skin. He managed to wave at her.

“I must take Diana home!” she shouted.

He could barely make out what she'd said beneath the roar of the flood. She rode the horse up the hill toward the house.

Adam gathered Charlie into his arms. “Thank God, you're all right.”

Charlie sobbed. “What about Dante?”

Adam gazed out over the waters, looking for the horse. Farther out, he could see the heads of his cattle, drifting toward the sea. He saw an entire barn floating away and breaking up. “I can't see him.”

Charlie stood. His teeth chattered, and his voice trembled from his shivering. “What's going to happen to him?”

Adam managed to stand, also. “I don't know, Charlie. We'll just have to wait and hope he makes it to dry ground. But for now, we've got to get you home.”

 

Madeline rode into the yard, her muscles aching from the strain of keeping Diana's limp body on the horse. Just as she approached the door, John Metcalf came galloping in behind.

He dismounted and rushed to Madeline's side. “The doctor's on his way!”

Madeline handed Diana down to John, who carried her to the house.

Hilary and Penelope must have been watching at the window, for they were already there waiting, holding the front door open for him. Madeline quickly led the horses into the barn and tethered them there, then she ran through the pounding rain to the house. She was never so glad to walk into a warm home and see candles burning, smell a fire in the hearth.

She unhooked her cloak and handed it soaking wet to Hilary. “Bring hot water and towels to Diana's room right away. She's badly hurt.” Madeline picked up her wet skirts and bounded up the stairs.

She hurried to Diana's room. John was laying her sister on the bed, while Penelope lit candles. When the room brightened, Penelope froze at the foot of the bed, staring dumbfounded at Diana's blood-soaked stocking. Her brown eyes were as big as saucers.

Madeline rested a hand on Penelope's shoulder. “Sweetheart, go and watch for your father. He and Charlie are on their way, and they'll need warm blankets and hot tea as soon as they arrive.”

Penelope pulled her horrified gaze away from Diana and nodded. Seeming grateful for a task to focus upon, she turned and left the room.

Madeline moved to the bedside and laid a hand on
Diana's forehead. “She's chilled. Let's get her under the covers.” John helped Madeline pull the quilt around Diana. “When is the doctor going to arrive?”

“He had to saddle his horse. He should be here any minute.”

Madeline tried to catch her breath. Everything had happened so fast.

“Why hasn't Diana opened her eyes or moved at all? I'm so worried, John. Is this normal?”

“My uncle fell from his horse once, and didn't move for two days.”

“Two days? Really? Then what happened?”

“He simply woke up one afternoon and said, ‘Who let the fire go out?' He had a few bumps and bruises, but he recovered.”

Madeline gazed warmly at John. “Thank you for helping us. We were lucky to meet up with you.”

“It wasn't luck. Mr. Coates came to my homestead. It was
you
he was looking for. He was worried, and I offered to help him find you.”

She remembered that she had gone for a walk without telling anyone, and all this was surely her fault. Would she ever be able to forgive herself? What if Diana did not recover? Good Lord, she couldn't bear to think of it.

Hilary appeared with the towels, and Madeline pushed her fears aside and proceeded to gently remove Diana's stocking and begin to wash the blood off her leg.

There was some commotion downstairs, the sound of boots thumping over the floor and a lot of questions
being asked at once. “John, go and see if that's the doctor.”

John left Madeline alone with Diana to cleanse her wounds.

Perhaps it was better that Diana was unconscious, Madeline thought miserably, for if she were awake, the pain would be excruciating. It was obvious to Madeline that bones were broken. How many and where, she couldn't tell, but no normal leg ever looked as misshapen and swollen as Diana's leg looked now.

More footsteps came thumping up the stairs, and the doctor—a distinguished, gray-haired man with gold spectacles—entered the room carrying a brown leather bag. He set it down on the floor and approached the bedside, immediately checking the pulse at Diana's neck, then feeling her head for a fever. His intelligent eyes assessed Diana's full form and settled on her leg. “That looks serious.”

Madeline could tell by his voice that he was a Yorkshireman. She moved out of his way to allow him room to examine her sister.

A swell of fear squeezed Madeline's heart. “How is she?”

“It's too soon to tell.” He squeezed Diana's calf and all around her knee. “She hasn't regained consciousness at all?”

“No.”

He continued to apply pressure in different spots. “The leg is definitely broken. In at least three places.” He shook his head ruefully. “Four places.”

Madeline tried to keep her voice steady, even
though inside, her stomach was rolling with queasiness. “She's not going to lose her leg, is she?”

The doctor glanced up at her only briefly. “I'll do my best, Miss Oxley.”

He moved around the bed and pulled Diana's lower eyelids down with his thumb, then checked around her scalp for a head injury. “Things look fine here. Perhaps she fainted because of the pain.” He went to his bag and pulled out a couple of splints. “I'm going to try and set the leg now, while she's still out. Will you stay? I could use your help.”

Madeline stepped forward. “Doctor, you couldn't make me leave if you tried.”

He nodded approvingly at her and began to roll up his loose linen sleeves. “I'm afraid this is going to take a while.”

 

As soon as Charlie was wrapped in a blanket and nursing a cup of hot broth in the kitchen, Adam hurried upstairs to check on Diana and Madeline. The door to Diana's bedchamber was closed, John was sitting on a chair in the dimly lit hall, and there was an eerie howling from the wind outside. Rain was beating the windowpanes and something was knocking somewhere—a barn door perhaps, swinging open and banging against a wall.

Adam paused at the top of the stairs, imagining what was going on behind Diana's closed door. He glanced at John. “What's happening?”

“The doctor is setting her leg. She still hasn't woken up.”

“I suppose that's a good thing at the moment.”

They waited silently in the hall. Adam recalled his last conversation with Diana, how he'd broken off their engagement and admitted he was in love with her sister. If he had known how angry she would be, or how determined she would be to find Madeline, he wouldn't have left her alone.

A moment later, the door opened slowly and Madeline appeared. Adam took an anxious step forward. John leaped from his chair.

Madeline still wore her wet clothes. Her hair had fallen out of its knot on her head and hung wet and limp upon her shoulders. Her face was pale and ashen. She staggered to the side.

Adam lunged forward to grab onto her at the same time John did. They each held one of her arms.

“Sit down, Madeline,” Adam said. They helped her into the chair. “What's happened? How is she?”

Madeline slid a hand over her hair, pushing it away from her face. “She's still unconscious, but we managed to set the broken bones in her leg.”

Relief washed through Adam.

Madeline continued. “But the doctor's not sure if…if she's going to be able to keep her leg. We'll have to wait and see. Even if she does keep it, she might not be able to walk again. At the very least, she'll need a cane. That's the most we can hope for, and we'll be lucky if she manages that.”

The idea of Diana having to learn to walk again, or being confined to a pushchair for the rest of her life was like a knife stabbing Adam in the gut. He was responsible for this—for bringing Diana here to
this strange land, for breaking her heart and crippling her at the same time.

“I just wish she would wake up.” Madeline sobbed with despair.

Adam knelt before her and squeezed her shoulder. “She will. We must all pray, and have faith.”

Madeline covered her face with hands that were shaking violently. “This is all my fault.”

“It's
not.
”

“Yes, I went for a walk without telling anyone and I stayed away too long. With the storm coming, Diana must have been worried about me and gone searching. It was wrong for me to go off like that, not thinking about anyone but myself.”

Adam pulled her hands away from her face. “It was
not
your fault, Madeline. I assure you.”

“But you were looking for me, too!”

Adam gazed into her beautiful pain-filled eyes and knew he had to convince her that she was the most innocent in all this. He glanced up at John, who was watching uneasily.

“John, will you excuse us? I need to speak to Madeline privately.”

God, Adam did not want to tell her now, not like this. But he could not let her go on thinking this was her fault. He had to take control of this situation and, no matter what the consequences, confess the truth.