The Vacant Chair (10 page)

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Authors: Kaylea Cross

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: The Vacant Chair
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Suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears any more. Resting her head atop her folded arms, Brianna split wide open, rocking herself with the pain. She tried to control it, but the grief crashing down on her was too overwhelming. It was too much. Everyone she loved was gone, taken from her by this damned war, and Justin would be leaving soon too.

As the torrent finished, she let out a painful sigh and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t deal with the constant suffering and loss.

Finally she stumbled back to her tent, only her stubborn will forcing her feet to keep moving. She was dizzy and numb. The fever had sucked the remaining strength out of her, had her trembling so hard she wobbled with each step. Someone asked her if she was all right, but she couldn’t answer. Words formed in her brain and died on her lips. She wove, wanting nothing more than to fall down and sleep.

Her head swam. She was breathing too fast and her legs were about to give out. She’d never make it back to her tent on her own. The pain in her heart eclipsed all of it.

Her weary body carried her to Justin’s tent. She dragged herself up the steps, knowing instinctively that he would take care of her. When he glanced up and saw her, his expression transformed to instant alarm. A loud hum filled her ears. Bright lights exploded in front of her eyes.

“Justin—” she mumbled. Her knees gave way and crashed to the wooden boards, but she barely felt the impact. She managed to crawl toward his cot. He reached for her, pulled her up, saying something to her in an urgent tone.

She struggled to get closer to him. He held her to his chest with one arm and murmured to her. She clung to him as the world tilted and swirled, his voice receding.  

Then a pair of strong hands pulled her from him. She tried to shrug them off, refusing to be dragged from her only source of comfort. Dr. Healey’s voice finally registered and she glanced away from Justin’s worried blue eyes into the doctor’s face, blinking as he grew fuzzy. Waves of darkness engulfed her. The graying world shrank to a pinpoint of light before she fainted in his arms.

Chapter Ten

His brother’s urgent voice woke Justin from a deep and dreamless sleep. He blinked up at Mitch in confusion, struggling to see him in the dark.

“Get up, quick,” Mitch ground out, shoving a boot at him. “Mrs. Taylor just collapsed.”

What?
Shaken from his sleepy stupor, Justin’s hands felt clumsy as he struggled with his clothing and boots. Movement still took supreme effort, each tiny shift sending shards of pain through his side. Mitch helped him to his feet and supported him the best he could, ignoring his grunts of discomfort.

“What do you mean, collapsed? How bad is she?” Justin demanded.

“Bad enough that she thought I was you,” Mitch said. “She stumbled into your tent looking for you and hit the floor before I could get to her. She was burning up, crying. And she kept saying your name—your
Christian
name. A doctor heard me yelling and carried her out. Now come on, move your ass.”

He was already moving as fast as he could, and it was too damn slow.

Justin knew he shouldn’t be on his feet so soon after his earlier attempt had nearly landed him on his face. He’d received word he was being discharged and sent home in two days, so he’d figured he’d better get out of bed and try a short walk. If he hadn’t made it into this tent and managed to climb into the empty bed he’d found, he’d be lying out on the ground somewhere right now instead.

With his right arm draped over Mitch’s sturdy shoulders, his brother dragged him along in his wake, heedless of the pain it caused Justin. He clenched his jaw and fought through it. His legs were so weak he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to make it to the surgeon’s tent, but if Brianna needed him he’d get there, even if he had to crawl.

“Slow down, dammit,” he finally rasped when he couldn’t take it anymore, doubled over and hating that he couldn’t keep up. It felt like there was a knife between his ribs.

“Sorry,” Mitch muttered, easing his pace and shortening his strides. “It’s only a little farther.”

Justin grunted in reply and pressed on, his skin covered in sweat from the effort the walk cost him.

When he entered the tent and saw her lying on the cot, he stopped dead, heart clenching.
Oh, sweetheart.

She was so still, so pale except for the fever spots burning on her cheeks. Jesus, how sick was she? Mitch hung back at the tent’s entrance.

The young surgeon with the coppery beard hovered over her, applying cool compresses to her face and neck. “She asked for you,” he said in a hard tone, clearly not happy about it. “I need someone to stay with her, and I have more surgeries to do. I’m willing to forgo rules and protocol for her sake and allow you to take over, but only because she wants you here. Are you up to it?”

“Yes.” She’d asked for him. Even in her delirium, she’d asked for him. His chest tightened. He would do anything to protect her from harm, yet there was nothing he could do but sit here and watch her suffer.

The doctor grunted in reply and wrung out a cloth drenched in cold water. “Better make yourself comfortable.”

Justin pressed his hand to his left side and sank into the chair with a wince. Another wave of clammy sweat broke out as his rib wound pulled, but all he cared about was Brianna. Taking her limp hand in his, he gave the doctor a questioning glance, and his guts clenched at the concern in the other man’s eyes.

“She’s damn sick,” the surgeon said angrily, “and I don’t like the sound of her breathing. I warned her again and again to rest, but she didn’t listen. She needs about a week of sleep to put her right, if we can keep the fever down. If all goes well, she should be fine. Should be, that is, but Brianna will undoubtedly throw herself right back into her duties—”

“Unless you order her to take convalescent leave,” Justin pointed out.

Healey faced him, something close to bitterness burning in his eyes. “If that’s what I feel she needs, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” He slapped the cool cloth into Justin’s hand, none too gently. 

Ignoring the other man, Justin placed it against her forehead, alarmed at the heat radiating from her skin. She didn’t stir as he bathed her burning face, and he’d have given anything for her to open her eyes and look at him so she knew he was there.
Please be all right.
He brushed the damp tendrils away from her fevered brow, battling the helplessness.

Healey expelled a breath and watched him. “I’ll be back to check on her as soon as I can. Stay with her while I find Ms. Davison to relieve you. If anyone questions your presence here, tell them they can take it up with me. Send for me immediately if anything changes.” His gazed down at Brianna with an intense expression, and Justin read the anger and longing in the other man’s eyes. 

The surgeon cared deeply for Brianna and wasn’t at all pleased she had called for another man in her distress. Well, that was just too damn bad, Justin thought with a surge of protectiveness. He was here and he would stay with her as long as he could, even if he ended up collapsing beside her.

Healey stalked out, and Mitch spoke up from the entry. “Want me to stay with you?”

Justin shook his head. “Go get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The hours dragged on in an exhausted blur. Several times, Brianna’s friend Ella-May came in to relieve him, and every time Justin refused her help. When the sky outside began to lighten, he started losing the fight to stay awake. The next time Ella-May came in, he finally acquiesced and allowed her to help him onto the cot next to Brianna’s. Contenting himself that he was still beside her, he fell headlong into sleep and woke in the early afternoon. Brianna’s condition hadn’t changed much, but the fever was down a little. Dr. Healey had come to see her while Justin was asleep. After eating the bread and soup Ella-May forced on him, Justin resumed his turn with the nursing duties. Time dissolved in a repeat of the same routine.

At midmorning the next day, he rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension in his neck and shoulders, damning the sapping weakness that had him all but sprawled out beside Brianna. He didn’t want to leave her until the fever broke. She’d been like this for almost two days now, in and out of delirium, and he’d stayed with her as often as he could. Whenever she opened her eyes and mumbled his name, something twisted in his chest to know she realized he was there.

I’m here, angel. I’m right beside you.

He wished they’d been alone so he could say it out loud, but instead he stroked her hair and murmured words of comfort until she settled. If he’d been able to, he’d have gathered her in his arms and cradled her against him. Seeing her so ill and fragile scared the hell out of him.

Shifting in his seat, he glanced up when Mitch entered the tent.

“How is she?” his brother asked.

Justin lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know. A while ago she thought I was her brother.” He blew a breath out. Surely hallucinations were not a good sign.

As though disturbed by their voices, Brianna opened her fever-bright eyes and squirmed. She tried to sit up, and he pressed her back against the damp sheets with a firm but gentle hand. “Shhh, lie still,” he whispered, keeping his tone soft. “Just sleep for now. It’s all right.” She quieted and closed her eyes, turning her hot cheek into his palm with a sigh.

The implicit trust in the action set off a fresh ache in his chest. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between the first time he’d opened his eyes to find her at his bedside and when she’d come to him last night, she’d managed to steal his heart.

She was kind and strong, yet he’d seen the startling vulnerability in her at times as well. The war had torn her family and world apart and she’d come here as a nurse, trying to help the men while earning enough of a living to support herself.

Justin had spent his entire adult life avoiding the prospect of marriage, and now that he’d met and gotten to know Brianna, the idea held a wealth of appeal. Though the knowledge shook him, it was the truth. He just had no idea what to do about it. The timing was all wrong.

It ate at him to know how alone she was in the world, with no one to turn to and no one to protect her. He wanted to offer all of that to her, and more. If she were his, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect and take care of her.

But she
wasn’t
his. And when he left this place in two days’ time, he’d be leaving his heart behind with her.

 

****

 

Something cool touched her face. Brianna opened her eyes to find Justin in a chair next to her bed. He was holding her hand, his expression full of relief and tenderness. She blinked and tried to speak. 

“Shh, save your strength,” he murmured.

“You—you’re up,” she managed weakly, saying the first thing that came to mind. What was he doing out of bed? How long had she been lying here?

His lips curved. “Someone had to look after you.”

What?
She turned her attention to the doorway as Dr. Healey entered.

“Mrs. Taylor, you gave us all quite a scare.” He took her pulse then nodded in satisfaction. “Ella-May and one of your patients took it upon themselves to watch you in between my visits.”

She blushed. “Oh, no…” Justin had been looking after her? While he was recovering from a bullet wound that had almost killed him? “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble.” Her gaze darted to his side, visualizing the damaged flesh beneath his uniform. Had it started bleeding again because of her?

He opened his mouth to say something, but the surgeon beat him to it. “Captain Thompson’s wound is healing nicely—thanks to you, I’m sure—and he has been up and about since your illness. Quite miraculous, really.” He scratched his beard and exchanged knowing smiles with Ella-May, then turned his attention to Justin. “Captain, it appears you are quite a capable nurse. Keep her comfortable and let her rest. I’ll leave you to it.”

When he and Ella-May were gone, Justin squeezed her hand. “How do you feel, angel?”

The endearment made her heart swell, despite the embarrassment of him seeing her this way. Why had he stayed with her when he was still recovering from such a serious wound? “You look much better,” she told him with a smile.

“Thank you. I feel much better now that I know you’re going to be all right.” He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles. “Because of your care, I’m starting to feel like my old self again. I’m still too damn weak, but I’m on my feet and ready for a visit home for convalescent leave.”

Her eyes widened in denial, her heart stuttering. “You’re leaving?” So soon? She’d already lost two precious days with him because of her illness.

He nodded, eyes full of regret. “Day after tomorrow.” 

You can’t
. “And you’ll go back to the war, after you recover?” 

His expression tightened at the accusation in her voice. “I have to.”

A knot of dread formed in her belly. She closed her eyes to hide the pain that had to be written on her face.

Mistaking it for exhaustion, Justin drew the covers around her and stood, placing a hand on his injured side as he straightened. “You need some water and more rest.” A moment later he pressed a cup in her hand and waited while she drained it. The cool liquid felt wonderful in her dry mouth. His white teeth flashed as he smiled. “Get some sleep and thank your lucky stars I didn’t need to pour carbolic acid all over you.”

“I’m grateful for that,” she said with a weak grin.

His expression turned serious. Taking one of her hands, Justin raised it and placed it over his heart. His body heat warmed her palm, and the affection in his gaze tore at her. “You saved my life, Mrs. Taylor. I’ll never forget that.”

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did.”

A lump formed in her throat. “You’re my favorite patient, you know. I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave.” She felt a splitting pain as her heart cracked a little more.

His eyes glowed with tenderness, his expression inscrutable. “You probably say that to all your patients.”

Only you.
She held her breath as he leaned over the bed to touch his lips to her temple. When she felt strong enough to open her eyes, he was gone.

What a cruel whim of fate to bring him into her life and then take him away before she had the chance to make anything come of it. War was a brutal teacher. The most important lesson it had taught her was that life was as short as it was precious. Closing her eyes, Brianna turned onto her side and nestled her cheek into her pillow. She’d lost so much already, she wasn’t sure she could withstand this final blow to her heart.

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