The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2) (10 page)

BOOK: The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2)
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Aaaah,” Dark Moon said, getting up from where he’d been sitting on the floor. He walked over to a table that was covered with countless jars and picked up a few. He sniffed one, dipped his finger into and tasted another, and then shook a few others. He then poured this one into that one, then dumped it into another and shook it.

Jack watched the man in something akin to awe. How did he know what to mix and how much only by looking and sniffing? Not that it mattered. It didn’t. All that mattered was Ella recovering.

Dark Moon set his concoction down on the table, then grabbed a small leather pouch. He opened it and sniffed. Then seeming pleased, he picked up the jar of mixed ingredients he’d set down a moment before and thrust both items into Jack’s face.

Jack took them and softly thanked the man, accepting another little jar of paste he didn’t recognize.

The man seemed irritated by Jack’s response and started making shooing motions toward the door.

Jack and Gray were out of there with no further delay.

“We go now,” Saving Grace said, this time mounting Jack’s horse.

Gray shot Jack a smug smile.

On the way back to where Saving Grace was camping, he explained to Jack what to do with the medicine and tea he’d been given.

By the time Jack arrived back to his room, however, his hopes for Ella’s recovery weren’t so high when he was informed she hadn’t woken or stirred once, her skin was even hotter, and her pulse had grown weaker.

He woodenly walked over to where she lay lifeless on the bed, covered in only a sheet that was soaked through. He knew it was foolishness to hope the sheet was wet from her sweat. The reality was that Allison and Mrs. Lewis had probably had to remove her old chemise and had placed a soaked sheet over her to keep her as cool as possible while still keeping her covered.


Hold on, Ella,” he whispered, kneeling by her side and brushing a kiss on her temple. “Just a while longer, please.”

Fortunately, Wes and Gray had the good sense to stay out of the room while Ella was in such a state of undress. Jack was thankful, however, that Allison and Mrs. Lewis stayed to help where needed.

He asked Mrs. Lewis to start brewing the willow bark tea Dark Moon had given him for Ella’s fever. For her part, Allison wiped Ella’s leg as best she could, then gave Jack a reassuring nod when he began to apply the liquid to the center of her wound and the paste around the blackening edges.

Jack winced and grimaced each time he touched her. She might be sleeping deeply, but he knew she’d be hurting if she were still awake. What he wouldn’t give to have her yelling at him now.

Just as he finished applying the medicine, Mrs. Lewis put the lid on a pot of steeping tea then pulled down a cup.

Jack put the medicine away in order to save the rest for the series of applications that needed to occur over the next three days as instructed.

“I didn’t make the tea too hot,” Mrs. Lewis said.

Jack nodded his understanding. “Allison can you help me?”

“Of course.” She reached forward and helped Jack move Ella into a position that would allow the liquid to flow down her throat.

When Jack was satisfied that he wouldn’t choke his wife with the tea, he took the cup from Mrs. Lewis and poured a little into her open mouth, then massaged her throat to help work the liquid down. Saving Grace had said half a cup would be enough, but a whole cup would be best, leaving Jack reluctant to settle for any amount less than the entire cup. He didn’t care how long it took to help her drink it. He’d do what he must.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lewis, Allison, for cleaning her up while I was gone and for—” he took a hard swallow— “and for helping me.”


You’re most welcome, Jack,” Mrs. Lewis said.

Allison offered him a small smile from where she stood combing her fingers through Ella’s hair with one hand and running a wet rag over her shoulder and the top of her chest with the other. She looked tired. They both did.

He wanted to tell them to go on to bed but didn’t wish to seem rude. He was spared when, a few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door.

Mrs. Lewis answered it, then came back to announce that Gray had taken over in the watchtower for Colonel Lewis and she was on her way to bed.

Jack nodded, relieved. “You can go, too, Allison.”


A-are you sure you don’t need me? I don’t mind and I know Wes won’t mind if I stay.”


No. Go.”

With one more look back at Ella, she walked to the door.

“Jack?”

Jack turned to look at Wes, who stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on the floor. “Yes?”

“We can stay if you’d like to rest.”


No, that’s all right.”

Wes sighed. “You won’t be any good to her if you die of sleep deprivation.”

“I know.” He turned back to Ella and straightened the sheet over her. “I’ll take a little nap once she finishes her tea.”


Be sure that you do,” Wes said with a shake of his head. “If you need us, we’re just right there.”


I know. Thank you.”

 

 

 

~Chapter Fifteen~

 

 

Savannah, Georgia

 

 

Michaela closed the door to the room she’d shared with Ella with a soft tap. It had been close to three and a half weeks now since Ella had gone to stay with Aunt Charlotte in Richmond, and their father was beginning to comment about the lack of correspondence.

Michaela, however, wasn’t too concerned. They might have never spoken about it, and it
might
have hurt Michaela’s feelings just a bit that Ella hadn’t confided in her, but two girls who had shared a room their entire lives were unable to keep secrets. There wasn’t any way to avoid it; which meant that unbeknownst to Ella, despite her best efforts to hide it, Michaela knew her sister had never gone to stay with their aunt but had traveled west to become a mail order bride instead.

And just now, their father was learning the truth.

Michaela tiptoed to Ella’s old bed, which was located in front of the window that overlooked the drive, and watched as Aunt Charlotte disembarked from her carriage. Anticipation built in Michaela’s breast. Pa would be furious. First at Ella, then at
her
.

She squeezed her hands into fists and licked her lips. He could be angry all he wanted, but Michaela knew the man’s most damning secret; one he likely wouldn’t want anyone else to know, and if he’d like to keep it that way, he’d better keep his temper in check.

Aunt Charlotte had disappeared from view now, which could only mean one thing: she’d reached the door.

At first, there was a deafening silence that seemed to fill the house, presumably only because Pa hadn’t laid eyes on Aunt Charlotte yet—

“What do you mean she never came to visit?” Pa’s booming voice echoed throughout the house.

Michaela couldn’t hear her aunt’s answer and didn’t relish the thought of sneaking down the stairs to overhear the conversation. She had little doubt her father would be up in her room to demand answers in a trice as it was.

When she’d first seen Aunt Charlotte’s carriage coming this morning, she’d briefly entertained the idea of hiding down by the pond, or in the cotton fields, or even in the street—the little area of cabins and clapboard houses where the field hands lived. She’d dismissed the idea of course. Pa would only be angrier if he had to come seek her out. It was best to face his wrath now rather than later. Of course, she wasn’t a complete featherbrain and knew it would be safer if he at least came to her room—a place where she often felt more comfortable and could hold onto her strength—rather than to present herself to him down in the entryway like a sacrificial lamb.


Where’s Ella?” Pa demanded, swinging the door to Michaela’s room open.

Michaela swallowed and looked directly at the man. He was exactly six feet in height and as broad in the shoulders and chest as a whiskey barrel. He’d been a general for six years before leaving the army four years ago to return Ma to the plantation she’d loved so dearly. She’d died suddenly only two years later, but he’d stayed. Unfortunately, being a plantation owner hadn’t softened him and made him more relaxed as Ma had hoped it might. Instead, he was still the same imposing General Samuel Davis who treated his daughters as if they were men under his command in the army.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. It wasn’t a lie. She didn’t know where Ella was at the moment.

Pa crossed his arms over his chest. “Where did she go?”

When worded that way, his questions were a little harder to evade. If she said west, it would be the truth, but it would also be belligerent—an attitude her father didn’t approve of. She took a deep breath and replied, “She answered an ad to be a mail order bride.”

Pa’s moss green eyes blazed into hers and his nostrils flared. “Why didn’t you tell me this, Michaela?”

She licked her lips again. “I wanted to wait until I heard from her.” She was certain that Ella would send her a letter once she arrived. It was only because of that, that she’d never stopped her sister from going or told Ella that she’d found her hidden letters.


Why would you do a foolish thing like that?”


B-because I wanted to know that she was safe and happy before I told you.”


And if she’s not?” he barked.


Then, I would have told you that, too.” Though she’d prayed nightly that Ella would find a good man on the other end of those letters, she had every intention of traveling to Fort Gibson and reclaiming her sister if she read one letter containing bad news.


What if she cannot write, Michaela? What if her husband is cruel to her and will not allow her to write letters? Or worse—” his voice cracked— “she was hurt along the way.”

Unease settled over Michaela. She’d never considered that.

“I take it you haven’t heard from her, then?”

Michaela shook her head. It was all she could do.

“How long did you plan to wait to hear from her before informing me of this—” he waved his hand in a circle— “deceit?”


Two months.”


Two months could have been too late,” her father snapped. “Hell, right now it could be too late.”


Two months seemed a sensible amount of time,” Michaela countered with shaken confidence. “I needed to give her enough time to arrive and post a letter.”


Just where was she set to be arriving?”

Michaela let out a deep breath. She might as well tell him everything she knew. “She was on her way to meet a man by the name of Jack Walker. He works for the army over at Fort Gibson in Indian Territory.”

For the first time in her entire life, Michaela witnessed her father’s stony face crumble to dust right before her eyes. “May God be gracious and generous with his protection of my daughter.”


Pa?”


Not now, Michaela. I’ve got to go instruct Naaman to ready the carriage.”

 

 

 

~Chapter Sixteen~

 

 

True to his word, by choice or coincidence it might never be known, Jack fell asleep shortly after Ella finished her tea.

It could be suggested by the way he woke up in a heap on the floor that it had not been by his own accord that he’d slept, but he’d slept all the same.

Running his hand over his tired face, he used the other to grip the edge of the bed and push to his feet, where he caught sight of Ella and was suddenly paralyzed.

Her eyes, still not open, had movements behind the lids. He reached forward to touch her forehead. Relief like he’d never known before rushed through him. She wasn’t as hot as she’d been last time, and best of all, she was showing all the signs of being alive. Not just alive, but
healing
.

He lifted his palm from her forehead and trailed his fingers down to her neck to check her pulse.

It was then that she shifted and made a sound of annoyance.

He pressed his hand against her skin, hoping to annoy her more.

It worked.


Ssssstop,” she slurred.

Elation shot through him. Then he set his eyes on the medicine he’d brought with him. He was supposed to apply it three times during the daylight hours and once in the middle of the night. She wasn’t going to like this; of that, he was certain. Best get her to drink the tea first. Otherwise, she might refuse.

Jack brushed her hair away from her face and let her rest while he set out to heat some water.


Can you sit up for me?” he murmured.

Ella grumbled, but Jack continued to help her sit up, noting how her eyes were still closed.

“Do you feel like opening your eyes?” he wondered.

She gave her head a slight shake.

“That’s all right, you just rest.” He finished with the tea and brought it over to her. “I have some tea for you to drink.”


Tea?”


Yes, I made you tea.”

She grumbled something, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Drink.” He lifted the cup to her lips and helped her take a drink.

Praise be, she didn’t protest and took a swig.

Then a second. Then a third.

He tipped the cup back for her. Clearly she thought she was dying from thirst. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so happy to drink the tea. He could hardly tolerate the smell and couldn’t imagine being made to actually put it into his mouth. When she was finished, he looked at the empty cup and shuddered.

“Would you like some water?”

She didn’t say anything but made herself more comfortable in the bed, then drifted back to sleep.

He held his breath and waited for her breathing to become steady, which he’d realized was an indication of a deep sleep.

Reaching for the medicine that rested on the table beside her bed, he whispered an apology. What he was apologizing for exactly—the pain he was about to inflict, the pain she’d already suffered, his part in this whole mess, or perhaps all of those reasons—he didn’t know.

Holding his breath and saying a silent prayer, he poured the liquid in her wound. Pleased in more ways than one that she started shifting and fidgeting when he did so. Then he applied the paste...

***

A tinge of pain yanked Ella from her dreamless state. Thankfully, it wasn’t as horrific as the pain she’d felt at an earlier point in her life, but it was still pain. Her leg jerked of its own accord to escape whatever it was that was touching her.

Just then, a gentle hand fell on her knee, stilling her.

“Just a little more.”

She nodded and the dull pain began to ebb, allowing her to rest a while longer.

***

Jack dropped his folded piece of cloth into the basin of water on the bed then reached for his pocket watch. He checked the time and grinned. Only twenty minutes until lunch. He’d been watching Ella’s leg all day, and though he couldn’t be positive, it looked better than it had last night. But just to find out whether he was living in a daydream, he planned to ask Wes.

If anyone had ever told him that one day he’d be inviting another man to look at his wife’s bare leg, he’d have shoved that man’s teeth down his throat.

He shook his head and turned his attention to Ella, who was stirring for the fifth time this morning.

“Would you like some more to drink?” he asked her. At her nod, he poured her some tea from the pot then moved to help her sit up a little. He’d rotated between giving her tea and water when she woke. The tea, it would seem, was not a very well-loved option for her. He brought the cup to her lips and said, “Here we go.”

She took a sip.

Then immediately spit it back into the cup.

He chuckled. “Sorry, sweetheart, you have to drink it.” He lifted the cup to her lips again.

She moved her face away.

He twisted his lips into an overdone smile. “It’s not so bad. Besides, you liked it last time. In fact, you said it was the best drink you’d ever had,” he lied, hoping that would make her want to try it again.

She did and grimaced.

Biting back a smile born purely of elation that she was drinking the tea and not because he’d just tricked his wife into believing a lie, he coaxed her to continue drinking. “Just a little more.”

Ten minutes later, the tea was gone and she was resting again.

***

Ella thought the pressure in her abdomen would be the death of her.

As it was, it was invading her rest and making her want to double over in pain.

Suddenly, there was a warm hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes. Not much, just enough to look at the offending hand. The arm it was attached to had a thin patch of long, wiry black hairs just above the wrist.

She blinked, but the hairs were still there. Why was a man touching her?

Never mind that, her abdomen hurt almost like she needed to...

Abandoning all pride, she wiggled around, calling for the chamberpot.

The man—whoever he was—grabbed the requested item then turned to face her, his incredibly handsome face as red as a fresh apple.


All right,” he said, “I’ll lift you—”


No. Turn,” she slurred, making wild movements with her arms.

He didn’t turn but moved down her body until he got to her waist.

She twisted, trying to clench her muscles. She had no idea when she’d consumed so much water, but apparently she had for her insides were threatening to burst because of it.

He placed his hands on her hips and she groaned, in too much pain to be truly embarrassed, but still knowing it was not proper for a strange man to be seeing her thus.

“Hold still for a moment,” he said, in a voice as soft as velvet.

But she couldn’t. She was at a loss to explain exactly why she was unable to still her movements. He seemed a trustworthy sort if he was helping her this way, but her body still acted of its own accord.

Both of his strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her...then he let one hand go and moved something...then a sheet came over her lower half....then he was back at her side.


I’m going to lift you up.”

She looked at him in horror. He was going to hold her in position while she took care of her business?

She shook her head and clenched her legs together. She was not going to do
that
in front of him. She cocked her head to the side. She’d seen this man before; she just didn’t know where.

That didn’t matter. His presence at such a time was completely inappropriate.

“Here, I’ll turn around,” he murmured. He repositioned his hands so that he was facing the wall behind her while still holding her over the chamberpot.

She waited a long minute but could hold it no longer, then closed her eyes and pretended he wasn’t there.

***

At dinner time, Colonel Lewis escorted Mrs. Lewis over to Jack’s room to check on Ella and bring her a bowl of soup. Jack was glad for the change and thought Ella would be, too.

When she woke up after they left, he even got her to drink two cups of the broth and a half of a cup of the tea before going back to sleep.

He ran his hand over her forehead, noticing how her skin, though still warm to the touch, was nothing like it had been yesterday or even earlier in the day. He allowed himself a smile and busied himself with fluffing her pillows and keeping her comfortable.

“Jack?”

Jack’s head shot up. “Allison!”

“The door was unlocked...” She shrugged and lifted the stack of folded linen in her arms. “I just took them off the line.”

Jack smiled at her and moved to take the neatly folded stack of Ella’s chemises from Allison. “She’s still wearing yours—”

“She is?” Allison’s eyes got wide with what appeared to be horror.


As a matter of fact, yes she is.” Jack grinned in a way he hadn’t in what felt like a long, long time. This morning, Allison had brought over a new chemise for Ella and had taken the pile of discarded ones to launder. They both assumed she’d need a new one before lunchtime, but she hadn’t. “She’s woken up several times today.”

Allison nodded slowly, her face softening as she took his meaning. “Then she’s getting better?”

“I believe so, yes.” He cast a quick glance at her leg, which he’d covered with a light sheet. “Her periods of alertness are lengthening and her speech—and stubbornness—is returning. I expect by day’s end tomorrow she should be strong enough to give me a sound tongue-lashing for not taking better care of her.”


That’s wonderful news,” Allison said, beaming.


Yes, it is,” he said with confidence. He didn’t care about the impending confrontation that might take place between the two of them. He’d be thrilled that she knew his name. But it was best not to get ahead of himself. She still hadn’t seemed to recognize him.


Well, I’d best be going. If there’s anything Wes or I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”


I will. Thank you. And thank you for—” he lifted the stack of chemises in his hands.


You’re welcome.” She went to the door, then paused. “Oh, and Jack, I think you’ve taken wonderful care of her, and when she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll think so, too.”

 

BOOK: The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2)
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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