Head in the Clouds (24 page)

Chapter 31

Gideon hadn’t heard that cherubic voice in nearly six months, and now that Isabella was finally speaking, he was stuck flat on his back, unable to see her.

“Chalmers, prop me up, man. My daughter’s talking.” Gideon impatiently wagged a hand at the butler.

Not having anything readily available for propping purposes, Chalmers wedged his arms under Gideon’s shoulder blades. Gideon mentally braced himself for the pain, determined not to frighten Bella, and gritted his teeth as Chalmers hefted him a few inches off the table. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Addie and Bella walked hand-in-hand into the room, like two angels come to welcome him home. They approached his side, and as he watched, Bella’s lips formed one sweet word after another.

“We prayed for you, Papa Gidyon, and you waked up.” A tentative smile flitted across her face, as if she was still trying to sort things out in her mind. Then her gaze left his face to roam over the bandages at his middle. “Are the hurts all gone?”

“No, sweetie,” Gideon said. “But hearing your pretty voice … makes them feel much better.”

The bud of a smile that lingered on her face blossomed into a full-fledged bloom. “Miss Addie says it’s my job to make your insides happy and ’courage you. Am I doing it right?”

A small chuckle escaped Gideon, followed by red-hot pain. He’d have to remember not to do that. He closed his eyes to regain control, inhaled a slow, steadying breath, and looked back at Bella.

“Seeing you smile and hearing you speak is the best medicine I could get. It’s been so long, I was afraid I’d forgotten what you sounded like.”

“I can sing you a song if you want, like I used to for Mama. Want to hear one now?”

“Why don’t we wait until after the doctor comes,” Addie suggested. “Maybe you can sing Papa Gideon a lullaby tonight to help him fall asleep.” She glanced at him and winked. Gideon found himself enchanted all over again. Her clothes might be a wrinkled, mismatched mess, and strands of her hair might be sticking out at odd angles from the knot at her neck, but when he looked at her, he saw a princess.

Now he just had to convince her to marry him.

At some point during the conversation, Chalmers had lowered him back to the table and left the room without him noticing. No doubt he was searching for those spare pillows and blankets. It couldn’t have been too comfortable for the old fellow, squashed under his weight like that. Nevertheless, Gideon wished the man would hurry up. How was he supposed to propose properly if he couldn’t hold his head up?

And in front of his daughter.

Gideon sobered a bit. He hated to send Bella away after she had gifted him with so much hope, but swaying Addie was going to be hard enough as it was. An audience would only complicate matters. Plus, he would have to explain his reasons, and that would mean discussing the very real possibility of his demise—a subject much too bleak for one so tender.

Clenching his jaw to combat the knife-sharp stinging in his gut as he moved, he lifted his hand and stroked the outside of Bella’s smooth cheek. “I’m looking forward to that song, little one. So much.”

His hand started to fall away, his strength too depleted to even hold his arm up for more than a few seconds. Before it slipped completely, though, Adelaide clasped it. She gathered it near her waist and placed Bella’s hand on top of theirs. Three united as one. His family. Gideon looked into her eyes, and silent understanding passed between them. Her grip tightened slightly as if in agreement. She felt it, too.

Gideon turned his attention back to his daughter. “Bella … I need to talk to Miss Addie about some grown-up things. Why don’t you ask Mrs. Chalmers to help you wash your face and get into your nightgown? That way, when the doctor finishes his examination, you can … sing me that song we talked about before you go to bed.”

Bella’s face fell and her bottom lip protruded in the beginnings of a pout, but she nodded. She leaned in close and kissed his cheek as she did every night. Then for the first time, she whispered in his ear, “I love you, Papa Gidyon.”

“I love you, too, Bella mine.” It was a miracle that he could choke the words past the sudden swelling in the back of his throat, but his daughter didn’t seem bothered by the strangled quality of his voice.

She ran her fingertips against his whiskers as she pulled away, and joy radiated through him. Though he was lying on a hard-asrock table, with a hole in his belly that felt like a burning tunnel of brimstone, he could still say with untarnished certainty that God was good.

Bella waved at him from the entrance to the dining room and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with Adelaide. A masculine cough echoed off to Gideon’s left. Well, not completely alone. He had forgotten about James.

“I’ll finish this paperwork in the study, Gid.”

The irksome fellow had the nerve to wink at him over a knowing grin as he walked by. Gideon stuffed down his annoyance and twisted his neck to look at Addie. Her back was to him as she poured a cup of water from the pitcher that sat atop the cupboard. He hoped that meant she had missed James’s rakish gesture.

Addie pivoted to face him, and her shy smile seduced him with its innocence. His gaze followed those curved lips as she stepped closer. Too bad he didn’t feel up to stealing a kiss. What he wouldn’t give to linger over a slow, gentle caress—one that would communicate his feelings better than words.

Addie leaned over him, her face inches from his. Had she read his mind? She reached behind his neck and lifted his head. His eyelids began to droop in anticipation. He puckered slightly, craving the feel of her warm lips upon his.

“Just a little bit, now,” she murmured.

His eyes slid closed and his lips pressed against cool metal.
Cool metal?

He opened his eyes at the same time she tipped the tin cup, dribbling a small portion of water into his dry mouth. Regaining his senses fast enough to keep from sputtering, he swallowed her offering along with his disappointment.

After trickling half a cupful down his throat, she set the water aside and pulled a chair up to the table. She settled close to his side, with her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes seemed to have a hard time meeting his. They flitted over his chest, his forehead, the floor, until finally settling on her hands. Her fidgeting hands. Gideon smiled. She was as nervous as he was.

He took a deep breath. “Addie, I need you to … do me a favor.”

She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin to look directly at him. “Anything, Gideon.”

“Marry me.”

She froze mid-nod, a mask of shock slipping over her features. Her mouth hung slightly agape, and three tiny lines appeared between her eyebrows. She blinked several times but made no verbal response.

Gideon clenched his fist.
What an idiot!
That had to be the worst proposal ever uttered. Just blurt it out as if he were asking her to pass the potatoes or something. What had happened to the famous Westcott charm? He hurried to rectify his mistake.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Her brow creased a little more. “You didn’t mean to ask me to marry you?”

“No. Yes.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I meant to ask you to marry me, but I didn’t intend to be so abrupt about it.”

“I see.”

“No. I don’t think you do.” He was making a royal muck of the situation. “I meant what I said to you earlier, when you were … tending my wound. I care about you, Addie. Dearly. You and Bella mean more to me than anything. After I was shot, I asked God for only one thing—that he allow me to live long enough to see … that you and Bella were safe. Marrying me is the best way to do that.”

He went on to explain all his well-rehearsed reasons, but with each rationale he offered, she retreated from him. She didn’t move physically, yet he could feel the distance growing between them. Her shoulders drooped. Her mouth dipped slightly at the corners. Her eyes lost some of their sparkle. It was as if he were watching her dreams die one by one, and he was the one wielding the weapon.

“So you want me to marry you in order to ensure our protection.”

“Yes. No. Partly.” Gideon growled and thumped his head against the table, welcoming the pain that came with his jerky movements. He deserved it.

“Stop it, Gideon. You’ll hurt yourself. Stop.” She stood over him, her hands framing his face as she struggled to still his thrashing. Tears pooled in her eyes. He wished he knew if they were from his mess of words or from her concern for his health. Either way, he wanted to banish them.

Logic hadn’t helped the situation, so he tossed aside all his pragmatic arguments and spoke from his heart. No longer caring if she thought him weak or foolish or desperate, he opened himself to her, letting her see the love in his eyes, praying it wasn’t too late.

“Did you mean what you said, Addie? When I told you I loved you, you whispered something in my ear. Did … did you mean it?”

Her face flushed pink, and for a moment panic set in. Had he imagined her fervent vow of love? Or worse, had she only said it to placate a dying man?

She tried to look away, but his gaze followed her, not allowing her to escape his question. “Yes,” she said, ducking her head. “I meant it.”

The fear coiled around his heart dissolved.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this, Addie. I planned to court you properly with flowers … and poetry and sunset rides by the river. Not lying flat on my back on a kitchen table. I’ve known for some time that I wanted to make you my wife, but I thought to wait until the problems with Petchey were resolved before speaking of my feelings. Now I wish I had said something sooner, for I’m afraid you don’t believe my love is real.”

Gideon held his breath, waiting for her to offer some kind of confirmation. She said nothing. However, she did lift her gaze to meet his. He opened himself to her, letting her search his soul for the truth behind his words.

“Wanting to protect you and Bella is only part of the reason I’m asking you to marry me. The smaller part. I don’t know if I have five hours or fifty years left on this earth, but I want to spend whatever time remains with you. I love you, Adelaide Proctor. With all my heart.”

A tear fell on his chin. She moved her thumb across his jaw to wipe it away. It was soon replaced by another, and another. But he didn’t care. All he could see was the trembling smile that beamed above him.

“You already own my heart, Gideon Westcott, and it is yours forever. But before I can give you my hand, I need some time—time to think and to pray. I thought to marry once before, but I followed my own instincts instead of waiting on the Lord’s guidance, and ended up lost in a hurtful wilderness of my own making. So even though my instincts are shouting at me to answer yes to your proposal, I can’t take that step yet. I need to seek the Lord’s will.”

Humbled by her vow of love as well as her abiding faith, he nodded. If the Lord saw fit to give him this woman, he would cherish her with every breath he had left in his body.

Slowly, she drew her hands away from his face, her fingers leaving quivers of awareness in their wake. He wanted to grab her and keep her at his side, but he let her go. And as she walked out the back door, he prayed that God would send her an answer soon. He feared his time was running out.

Chapter 32

Adelaide staggered out the back door in a daze. Gideon loved her. He loved her! Elation tugged her spirit upward, like a kite on the wind, yet the severity of his injury yanked her back down to earth. She had dreamed of falling in love with and marrying a handsome hero, but not like this. Not when their life together might only consist of days or hours. She wanted happily ever after.

A good hard ride always cleared her head and aided her prayers; however, that was out of the question. It was dark now, and Juan had her horse. She tilted her head back to view the sky past the porch overhang. Stars peeked through the darkness, and a half-moon glowed overhead. Light in the darkness. Hope.

The chaos within her lessened.

She stepped off the porch and a gusty wind set her skirt flapping. Not sure which direction to take, Adelaide hesitated, letting the wind buffet her for a moment.

“Don’t go far, miss.” Miguel’s voice startled her. She turned and found him in the shadows, one foot braced on the railing and the butt of his rifle balanced on his upraised thigh. “Señor Westcott no like it if something happen to you.”

“Don’t worry.” Adelaide smiled up at him, pulling a windblown strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. “I’ll stay within sight of the house. I only need a few minutes.”

He nodded to her, and she continued on. Her feet led her to the corral, and a sense of rightness settled over her. Perhaps she felt at peace here because Sheba had been her confidante for so many years—through her father’s death and her move to Boston, as well as the debacle with Henry Belcher. Even with Sheba away, the smell of hay and the sound of horses shifting in their stalls soothed her.

Keeping her word to Miguel, Adelaide chose a spot along the front fence line. She sat down beside a post and leaned her back against it as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“What would you have me do, Lord?” A strong breeze carried her whispered petition toward the heavens. “I love him and want to be his wife, but is that your will? Did you lead me here for more than Isabella?”

Tears pooled in her eyes, and the back of her throat began to itch. “I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want Isabella to lose him, either. You tell us to rest before you and wait patiently for you to act, but I fear my patience is tattered. Have mercy on me, Lord. Show me your way … quickly.”

Adelaide lifted her head and wiped an errant tear from her cheek. She gazed at the moon, finding comfort in its brightness until a whistled signal brought her head around. Juan was riding in, the doctor’s buggy behind him. Miguel must have announced their arrival, for James and Chalmers rushed out of the house to greet them. Adelaide started to stand, anxious to converse with the physician, but an inner voice told her to stay.

James could describe the wound and recount the treatment she had given. Chalmers could fetch whatever might be needed for the examination. Mrs. Chalmers was there to look after Isabella. She could afford to wait a little longer. To seek the Lord’s answer. She just needed to trust God enough to be still.

Unfortunately, she didn’t want to be still. She wanted to run to the house and consult with the doctor, to watch over his shoulder as he tended Gideon, to absorb everything he said and did. Paralyzed with indecision, she watched as Chalmers escorted the doctor and a second man into the house. James looked around a moment as if searching for her in the darkness, then shut the door.

Adelaide’s heart demanded that she hurry and join them. Her soul urged her to be still before the Lord. The battle tossed her back and forth for several minutes before she surrendered at last to her spirit’s call.

With effort, she dragged her gaze from the kitchen door and directed it once again to the moon suspended low in the sky above Westcott Cottage. The wind blew silhouetted clouds in front of the bright half circle, successively blocking and then unveiling its glow. She sat numbly for several minutes, staring heavenward, her mind unfocused. Clouds continued to breeze past.

Except for one.

Adelaide leaned forward and squinted. One cloud stubbornly refused to move. Perhaps it hung at a lower altitude, where the wind currents were different, or maybe her eyes were simply playing tricks on her, but her heart sped up just the same. Could it be that the figurative cloud the Lord had used to direct her there had become a physical signal for her to stay?

“ ‘And when the cloud was taken up from over the tabernacle,’ ” she quoted under her breath, “ ‘the children of Israel went onward in all their journeys: But if the cloud were not taken up, then they journeyed not till the day that it was taken up.’ ”

Her cloud had not been taken up.

Adelaide’s heart seized upon the excuse to follow her heart’s desire, while logic argued that the weather phenomenon was a coincidence of nature. Adelaide closed her eyes and looked deeper for her answers. Deeper than intelligence could take her. Further even than the depths of her emotions. She looked to her soul for confirmation. And there she found it. The Lord wanted her right where she was. With Gideon.

Doubts extinguished, she leapt to her feet and raced back to the house, nearly giddy in her eagerness to accept Gideon’s proposal. She bit her lip in a futile effort to keep her smile contained, yet when she opened the door to an empty kitchen, it faded all on its own. The table was bare. Surely he hadn’t … hadn’t …

“Gideon!”

She pushed through the door that led to the hall and collided with Mrs. Garrett. Adelaide grabbed the older woman’s arm to help steady her.

“Mabel, where’s—”

“They took him upstairs to his room. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. He’s still breathing.”

Air whooshed out of her lungs, and relief weakened her knees. Suddenly she was the one unsteady on her feet.

“Doc should be done with him pretty soon. Oh, and the preacher’s in there, too. Praying, I guess. Although why he couldn’t do that from town is hard to figure. It’s not like the good Lord ain’t already aware of what’s going on.”

The preacher. Adelaide’s stomach fluttered. He wasn’t just there to pray. She’d better tidy her appearance and throw on a clean dress. It seemed her wedding day had arrived.

Gideon had expected the luxury of his fine hair mattress and goose-feather pillows to bring him a measure of relief after spending what seemed an eternity on the unyielding kitchen table. However, being carted upstairs like a dangling deer carcass and poked and prodded by Dr. Bellows left him feeling as if he’d been moved to purgatory instead of his bedchamber. He breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor finally finished wrapping him back up and started preparing a morphine injection.

“This will help with the pain and will probably make you sleepy.” Dr. Bellows walked toward his bed, a hypodermic syringe in hand.

Gideon was more than ready to have his pain eased, but he needed his mind clear for a little longer. He had to wait for Adelaide’s answer.

Reluctantly, he shook his head and ignored the man’s raised eyebrows. “Not yet, Dr. Bellows. I have a few matters to attend to first. In fact, I was hoping that you and the parson would witness the signing of my new will.”

Understanding mixed with pity dawned in the middle-aged man’s eyes. “Of course, Mr. Westcott. I would be honored.” He returned to the bureau and carefully laid the syringe atop his roll of instruments.

James pushed away from the wall beside Gideon’s headboard. “I’ll fetch the papers,” he said and strode toward the small desk situated beneath the window across the room.

He and Brother Kent had remained with Gideon during the examination, flanking him on either side of the bed. James had lent the physician a hand whenever it was required, while the minister quietly prayed in the background. Kent hadn’t been too thrilled when Gideon explained his intention to marry Adelaide before knowing if he would survive. But he’d agreed to perform the rite if the lady consented. Now all they needed was the lady.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Dr. Bellows was closest, so he stepped forward and opened it. Adelaide glided into the room, a delicate blush staining her cheeks. Gideon’s eyes connected with hers for only a moment before she turned back to the doctor, but the love conveyed in that brief glance stole his breath.

“You must be Miss Proctor. I’ve been admiring your handiwork.” Dr. Bellows took her arm and led her toward Gideon.

She had changed into her sunshine calico and pinned her hair back into place. Gideon’s pulse leapt as hope swelled within him. It was possible that Addie had simply tidied her appearance because they had company, but he preferred to believe another motivation had inspired the change. One that involved him and the answer to a particular question.

“You did a fine job cleaning the wound site, my dear.” Dr. Bellows patted the back of her hand and grinned at her. “If you ever find yourself in need of a new position, I could use a nurse with your skills.”

“Thank you, but …” Addie’s gaze dropped to the floor, and her blush deepened. “As to positions … well … I’ve decided to accept one that was offered to me just this evening. A permanent position.” She lifted her eyes and smiled shyly at Gideon. Joy exploded in his chest.

He swallowed hard and tried to find his voice. “Addie, do you mean … ?”

“Yes, Gideon. I will be your wife.”

Not even the morphine waiting in the syringe across the room could make him feel better than he felt at that moment.

Adelaide let go of the doctor’s arm and clutched Gideon’s hand, her gaze sinking into him like warm butter into toast. “No matter what comes.”

He squeezed her fingers with what strength he could muster and echoed her pledge. “No matter what comes.”

A throat cleared behind them, and Adelaide pulled her gaze away from Gideon as the preacher elbowed his way between them.

“I have agreed to marry the two of you, for I know you both to be God-fearing people who would not enter into matrimony lightly. However, I have to ask you, Miss Proctor, if you are certain. Knowing the truth about Westcott’s condition, are you willing to enter into this sacred union even if it is to end in sorrow?”

Gideon’s wound throbbed more menacingly as he waited for her answer. Her grip on his hand remained steady, though, as she met Brother Kent’s eye. “All marriages eventually end in sorrow, do they not? The joy comes in cherishing what time you are able to share.”

The minister smiled at her, all reservations erased from his features. Gideon relaxed, as well. How had he ever managed to win this incredible woman for his own? She deserved so much better than a man on his last leg, yet he couldn’t imagine letting her go.

“Very well, then, we can proceed whenever you’re ready,” the minister proclaimed.

“Balderdash!” Dr. Bellows scowled down at them. “It’s obvious the girl is caught up in some romantic fantasy about granting a dying man’s request.”

“A living man’s request,” Adelaide interrupted, her chin jutting out at a stubborn angle.

Gideon grinned. She was a fighter all right. His fighter.

The doctor went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “You can’t in good conscience marry them, Kent. She obviously doesn’t know the truth about his condition. I haven’t even talked with her yet.”

“Then talk, Doctor.” Adelaide crossed her arms over her chest and braced her legs apart as if facing a physical battle. The man glared down at her. Gideon’s jaw tightened. James came up beside him and laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Men don’t recover from abdominal wounds, Miss Proctor. They die a slow, agonizing death. Are you prepared to listen to his screams? To watch him wither away from malnutrition? To endure the bruises when he lashes out at you in fevered delirium?”

“Yes.”

Her quiet statement rang with assurance. Dr. Bellows’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, uncertainty hovered over his features before he shook his head and regained his cynicism.

“You can’t possibly understand—”

“Enough, Bellows.” Gideon would not allow the man to insult Addie. Her beautiful spirit and fanciful imagination were part of what he loved about her, part of her strength. “Your professional opinion is welcome, but your cruelty … is not. You will address Miss Proctor with respect and courtesy or you will … leave my home.”

“It’s all right, Gideon. He’s just testing me. Aren’t you, Doctor?” Her face softened and her arms slid down to her sides as she tilted her head to regard the physician with a mixture of curiosity and conviction.

“You know firsthand how hard it is to watch someone die,” she continued. “That’s why you distance yourself. You have to in your profession. However, I’m not in your profession. If I choose to draw nearer to Gideon despite the pain it might cause, that is my right. I’m not a foolish girl whose dreams keep me from acknowledging reality. Yes, I agreed to marry him, but I also dressed his wounds. I have contemplated his mortality, Doctor. Nevertheless, I cling to hope and will dose him with it every chance I get.”

Dr. Bellows ran a hand through his thinning hair and sighed. “You are right, of course. It’s not my place to interfere. It’s just that …” The man suddenly looked older than his years. “I know the pain of losing a spouse. I thought only to spare you that.”

Compassion stirred in Gideon’s heart. He’d forgotten the man was a widower. Now that he could see past the bluster, he recognized the grief still etched into his face. Would Addie have the same worn look in a few years? Or would her faith ease her grief?

She looked at him then, and he knew in his bones that Addie belonged to him, and he to her. Hope shone in her eyes, and he felt his own dreams awaken. Her courage bolstered his, infusing him with the will to fight. For the first time since José’s bullet pierced his skin, he began to believe, truly believe, that recovery was possible.

“If you want to spare me pain, Doctor,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand, “help me make him well.”