Yesterday's Roses

by Heather Cullman

  Mesmerized by the sheer grotesqueness of the thing, she was unable to tear her gaze away from the sight of those pupilless eyes cast beseechingly toward the heavens and the horror of that mouth distorted in a scream of eternal agony. Most gruesome of all were the rivulets of painted blood flowing from beneath the crown of thorns, made all the more livid by their vermilion contrast against the otherwise plain wood surface.

  Pray before your soul is lost forever …

  Hallie sank deeper into the protective cocoon of her blankets. Suddenly the years seemed to roll away, and she felt five years old again. Shuddering, she peered into the shadows.

  Gargoyles. With wings like bats and eyes glowing blood-red … Hurtling out of the darkness to suck out her soul. She could almost feel the pain as the monsters grasped her in their razor-sharp claws …

  Stop it this instant, Hallie! Such nonsense! There’s no such thing as monsters, she scolded herself. Then a flash of lightning blazed across the sky, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. With a gasp, she ducked her head beneath the blankets. Not afraid. Well, maybe she was feeling just the tiniest bit anxious after all.

  Think about something else. Anything. Something comforting. Something that makes you feel safe.

  Jake. She would think of Jake. Being held by Jake made her feel safer than if she had been sheltered by a whole army of guardian angels, and the sound of his whispers as he urged her to sleep was more comforting than any heavenly lullaby.

  Hallie poked her head out from under the covers and glanced sharply toward the hearth. Exactly when had Jake left her side? When she’d drifted off to sleep, the fire was blazing cheerfully in the hearth and Jake was perched on the chair next to the bed.

  But now the flames were little more than a pile of gleaming embers … and the chair was empty. She sighed with longing. She would gladly trade her new thermometers, all twelve of them, just to feel the reassuring warmth of Jake’s nearness. He had made her feel a way she’d never felt before. Special. Cherished. Loved.

  When they had arrived from the jail that evening, he’d taken charge of everything, barking orders which had sent the servants scurrying to do his bidding. When it appeared that all was being done to his satisfaction, Jake personally escorted her up to a luxurious suite of rooms and turned her over to Celine’s kindly ministrations.

  From that point on, she was waited on hand and foot. She had felt like a princess, relaxing in a tub of hot water while a servant brushed the tangles from her freshly washed hair. Scrubbed clean within an inch of her life and smelling of lavender, with her damp hair neatly braided, she was slipped into what looked to be one of Jake’s nightshirts.

  Just as she was being tucked into bed with hot bricks warming her feet, Jake had reappeared. He watched for a moment while Celine prepared to cleanse Hallie’s battered face; then he took the cloth from the woman’s hand and dismissed her with a nod.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tended her himself. His hands were gentle as he soothed her bruises with cool water, his handsome face filled with such tenderness that it made Hallie breathless just to remember it. As he had treated each injury, he paused to give it a soft kiss before turning his attention to the next one. His kisses were more soothing than any balm in Hallie’s black bag. And though his brand of doctoring was alien to anything found in the pages of a medical journal, she had felt much restored when he had finished.

  Shortly thereafter, Celine returned, bearing a tray of savory-smelling food. Hallie squealed in protest and Celine chuckled with amusement when Jake tucked the napkin around Hallie’s neck and insisted on feeding her as if she were no older than Ariel. With a sigh of surrender, Hallie relaxed against her pillows, obediently eating whatever he put in her mouth. She had no idea what she’d eaten, so preoccupied had she been with Jake’s coaxing smiles.

  When Celine had at last removed the tray, Jake settled in the chair close to the bed and sat stroking her hair and urging her to sleep in a low, hypnotic voice. Almost immediately, she complied. She probably would’ve slept the whole night through had it not been for the thunder. Speaking of which …

  Hallie clapped her hands over her ears to shut out the fiendish roar. It didn’t work. Lord! This was the worst squall she’d seen in years! She could remember huddling in her crib during such a storm, her terrified screams drowned out by the thunder. She had been three at the time, little more than a baby.

  Like Ariel.

  Ariel! Hallie bolted to a sitting position. Was Ariel terrified, too? Did she he sobbing in her crib, her cries unheard above the noise, with no one there to soothe her? The thought of the poor babe alone in her nursery was too much for Hallie to bear.

  Snatching up the dressing gown Jake had left at the foot of the bed, she bounded out from the security of her blankets. For a moment she imagined, as she had when she was a child, that there was a monster under the bed waiting to grab her ankle and pull her into its lair.

  Then she laughed. What was it about a storm that made her feel like a five-year-old again? As she slipped her arms into Jake’s robe, the same one she had wrapped him in on the day he was shot, she could smell traces of his clean, masculine scent lingering in the velvet folds. The familiarity of the fragrance was reassuring, giving her the much-needed courage to brave the darkened corridors.

  Which she did with an aplomb that made her want to give herself a pat on the back. When she finally reached the nursery, Hallie found the door slightly ajar and heard not the screams of a frantic child but the soothing sounds of a murmuring voice. Sighing her relief, she eased the door open and peeked in.

  Sitting in a rocking chair close to the fireplace, with his left leg propped up on a low stool, was Jake. And lying contentedly in his arms was Ariel.

  “So you see, Sprite, the angels have a particular fondness for bowling.” Jake paused to point out the window where a bolt of lightning was cutting across the midnight sky. “See that streak of silver light? That’s the trail left by the angel’s ball as it rolls across the sky. He’s trying to knock down that line of stars just over the horizon.” He shifted Ariel to show her the stars, but she was far more interested in staring at the colorfully patterned silk of his dressing gown.

  Then there was the inevitable roll of thunder, and Hallie, caught up in Jake’s fanciful story, let out a cry of surprise. His head jerked up at the sound.

  When he saw Hallie standing in the doorway, nervously balling up a section of her robe in her hand, he smiled. She who had fearlessly attacked Cyrus King with a parasol and who had kicked Nick Connelly in his private parts was apparently afraid of storms. He found his Mission Lady’s childish foible thoroughly endearing, just as he did everything else about her. If his arms hadn’t been occupied at that moment, he would have wrapped her in his embrace and promised to protect her from storm monsters.

  Still smiling, he beckoned to her.

  Hallie practically flew to his side. As she knelt on the rug at his feet, he reached down and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He could feel her trembling beneath his hand.

  Gently he cupped her chin in his palm and lifted her face so that her features were lit by the warm glow of the fire. Staring hypnotically into her frightened eyes, he continued his tale.

  “Two points for the angel,” he whispered, nodding at the storm outside yet never once letting his gaze stray from hers. “Don’t you know that thunder is the sound of an angel’s ball striking the stars?”

  “And the rain?” Hallie asked, leaning forward to rest against his knee, basking in the sanctuary of his presence. “What causes the rain?”

  Jake chuckled and let his hand drop from her face. “It’s tears, sweet Mission Lady. Angels are notoriously poor losers.”

  Ariel’s only response to that bit of whimsy was a yawn. Emitting a little squeak, she burrowed deeper against Jake’s chest, where she lay sucking on her chubby fist and staring at Hallie with drows
y eyes.

  “She looks like Serena,” Hallie commented, tearing her gaze from Jake’s tip-tilted green eyes to study the baby in his arms. From her wide blue eyes and the silvery down crowning her head to the dainty toes peeking out from a fold of the pink silk quilt, Ariel was the very picture of her beautiful mother.

  Jake stared down at the bundle in his arms. “Thank God for small favors,” he whispered, more to himself than to Hallie.

  Yes. Thank God, Hallie repeated to herself. She could only imagine how awful it would have been for Jake if the baby had resembled her unknown father. Awful to have spent his days scanning the faces of friends and strangers, wondering, looking for some minute similarity. Awful to have looked into the child’s unfamiliar face and be painfully reminded that some unknown man had given Serena what he couldn’t.

  Propping her elbows up on the arm of the chair, Hallie noted the way Jake caressed Ariel’s cheek with his thumb. She smiled at his apparent fondness for the child.

  Ariel nuzzled against his hand like a newborn kitten seeking milk at its mother’s breast. She gave another yawn, and her eyes fluttered shut.

  “Was she frightened by the storm?”

  “Not as much as some people I know,” Jake teased, reaching over to give Hallie’s thick braid a tweak.

  Hallie grinned sheepishly. “I was worried that the noise had disturbed Ariel. I thought she might need soothing.”

  “Perhaps it was you who needed her soothing,” he replied in a semi-serious tone. “Holding her does have a calming effect. Sleep doesn’t come easily to me these days, and I’ve found that it helps to discuss whatever is on my mind with her. Ariel is an excellent listener.”

  “She’s only four months old.”

  “She’s also the only female I know with whom I can get a word in edgewise.”

  “Then you’re spending too much time with the wrong kind of women.”

  Jake reached down and lightly traced the shape of her mouth with his fingertip. “That’s because the right one spends her time avoiding me.”

  Hallie nipped at his finger playfully. “You’re welcome to discuss anything you like with me. I promise to be as attentive as Ariel.”

  “Anything?” he asked, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

  “Within reason, you wicked man!”

  “Pity.” He sighed theatrically. Giving the sleeping Ariel a wink of mock conspiracy, he murmured, “Remind me to tell you about my intentions toward a certain Mission Lady, Sprite.”

  “You’re a rogue, Jake Parrish!” Hallie giggled. “Still, despite your naughty ways, I’m glad you’ve taken an interest in the baby. I was worried you would never accept her.”

  It was Jake’s turn to look sheepish. “I did behave like a bastard, didn’t I?”

  “I distinctly remember pointing that out.”

  “Yes. You did.” He chuckled.

  “What made you change your mind?”

  A tender smile curved his lips. “Do you remember how restless she was the night after Serena’s funeral?”

  Hallie nodded. Ariel had howled incessantly that evening, much to the despair of the wet nurse and the nanny. Hallie had examined the poor babe but had been unable to find anything wrong with her. It was puzzling.

  “I understood exactly how she felt.” He sighed. “I, too, was feeling out of sorts. I was exhausted, my wound hurt, and there was nothing I wanted more than to sleep, which, of course, was out of the question considering the racket she was making.”

  Jake raised his eyes and caught Hallie’s compassionate gaze with his hungry one. No. That wasn’t quite true. What he’d wanted more than sleep was to curl up in Hallie Gardiner’s arms. And it hadn’t been just the noise that kept him awake, it had also been the void he’d felt after she left for the Mission House.

  He glanced down at the bundle in his arms, unconsciously toying with the lace edge of the blanket framing Ariel’s face. “The screams went on for hours. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I ordered the baby brought to my bedchamber. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, I only knew I’d go mad if she didn’t quiet. I remember looking into her little red face and thinking that she looked as lost as I felt. She seemed so helpless that I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to comfort her. I didn’t know what to do—I’d never held an infant before, so I simply laid her against my chest, her heart against mine, and stroked her back. Like magic, she calmed.”

  Jake smiled with fond remembrance. “I thought of you when her sobs faded and she began to make little hiccupping noises. Anyway, before I knew it, we had both fallen asleep. It was the soundest I’d slept in months. It comforted me to feel someone else near, to feel another heart beating next to mine.”

  Hallie could picture Jake asleep with the fairylike Ariel curled up on his powerful chest. The thought made her ache to wrap him in her embrace and to press her own heart against his. What a lonely man he was. And how she loved him!

  “I imagine she sensed that something was wrong,” Hallie murmured. “You made her feel safe. Any woman would feel safe sleeping in your arms.”

  “But there’s only one woman I’m interested in having sleeping there,” he purred, his gaze raking her body provocatively.

  Did he know how he tempted her when he looked at her like that? Hallie blushed and looked away. Lord! How she longed to say yes to his seductive invitation—to fall sleep with the feel of his naked skin warming hers, to wake up next to him and to let his smile be her dawning light.

  Embarrassed by her own desires, Hallie turned her attention back to Ariel. “She’s fast asleep now. Would you like me to put her into her cradle for you?”

  He nodded. “My leg is usually strong enough to allow me to stand unaided. But tonight, well … I’m glad you’re here.” It was a statement of fact, and for once there was no bitterness in his voice as he referred to his handicap.

  “I’m glad too,” she whispered, taking Ariel from his arms. A smile tugged at Hallie’s lips as she tucked the blankets around the diminutive form. Wasn’t it just like Jake to purchase something as beautiful—and impractical—as a pink silk coverlet tor an infant? Obviously little Ariel was on her way to becoming thoroughly spoiled.

  When Hallie at last turned from the cradle, her heart was wrenched by the sight of Jake struggling to rise to his feet. His face was drawn in lines of frustration, and she noticed that the motion of the rocking chair was doing nothing to aid his efforts.

  Wordlessly, she held out her hands to him.

  He grew very still as he sat poised at the edge of the chair, staring at her open palms. Slowly, he let his gaze travel from her hands to her face. She nodded her encouragement.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he slipped his hands into hers and let her help him to his feet. It was the first time he had willingly let anyone aid him in such a manner, for to do so was to acknowledge defeat to his shameful weakness. He let out his breath slowly. It wasn’t nearly as hard as he had imagined.

  As Hallie slipped her arms around his waist and held him while he positioned his cane, Jake decided that he liked her assistance a great deal. He liked the way her hands felt clasped against the small of his back. He liked the way her unbound breasts grazed his silk-clad chest, and most of all he liked the way she met his gaze without a trace of pity. The only thing he read in the tawny depths of her eyes was love.

  Steady now, he leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on her lips. “Thank you,” he whispered before stepping away.

  In companionable silence, they made their way down the corridors. The storm had eased until all that remained was the gentle tapping of the rain against the windows. Somewhere in the house, a clock struck midnight. It was Christmas Day.

  Grinning, Hallie paused to wish Jake a Merry Christmas. But when she saw his expression, the gay felicitation died in her throat. Every line, every feature of his face was rigidly controlled
—too controlled. She’d seen that look too often not to recognize it. It was the face of a man who was suffering, of a man who had become so accustomed to hiding his pain that even in an unguarded moment such as this, he kept his discomfort well masked.

  “Jake.” She grasped his arm to halt him. “Let me help you.”

  One corner of his mouth curled up. “I know I’m moving slower than a snail over hot tar, but I’m perfectly capable of escorting you back to your room.” Looping his free arm around her shoulders, he teased, “Besides, someone has to protect you from all the ghosts and goblins brought on by the storm.”

  “Of course you’re capable,” she declared, snuggling close to his side and wrapping her arm around his taut waist. “I don’t doubt you could walk me all the way to Timbuktu—and back—if you wanted to. What I was referring to was your pain.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar.”

  He shrugged. “All right, so this damp cold makes my leg a bit stiff.”

  “And it aches?” she prodded gently.

  “Like the devil,” he admitted with a sigh.

  She stared down at the lattice print of the hall carpet. “In Europe they use massage and hot poultices to relieve such pain.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Yes.” She stole a glance up at his face. He was staring down at her, his expression unreadable. Clearing her throat nervously, she suggested, “I could do it for you if you’d like.”

  He continued to stare at her for a moment, before shifting his gaze down to his hand clutching the gold top of his cane. Now there was a dangerous idea. Did she realize what her hands caressing his naked thigh would do to him?

  He chuckled softly. “Do you really think that would be a wise idea?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it would help. I promise you that when I’m finished with the treatment, you won’t spare your leg another thought.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that for a minute. At least the part about sparing my leg a thought.” He wondered vaguely if anyone had ever died from unrelieved lust. If not, he was sure to make the medical annals as the first. That is, if he was thickheaded enough to submit to Hallie Gardiner’s ministrations, which he wasn’t.