She spun on her foot and headed down the stairs.
He reached for the other stocking, the top past her knee. How that had managed to stay up at all was an ironic mystery. He would have to remember to tell Sylvia. She’d find it funny—or perhaps odd—later on.
Miss Weber reached out with her hand and stopped him. “I’ll do it, Dr. Graham. And I’ll sit with her for a while.”
He wanted to stay but understood the wisdom in her words. “I do need to check on my other patient. Tommy will want to know that I found his mother.”
Miss Weber smiled gently, understanding in her eyes. “I’ll let you know when she awakens.”
He stepped across the hallway and opened the door to his bedroom. Tommy lay snuggled down in his bed, fast asleep. Nelson’s mother rose from her chair at the boy’s side and came to the door, a finger to her lips.
“I gave him a few bites of porridge, then he fell asleep and hasn’t woken again. He will need a bath when he wakes. The poor thing is filthy from head to toe.”
Nelson wanted to check Tommy’s wound but thought for now sleep was more important. “He injured his ankle a few weeks ago. He probably had to stumble along, and even crawl now and then, to get here.”
“Were the crutches you had in the hallway meant for him?”
Nelson nodded. “I’m sure they are lost to the river now.”
She turned from him to take her seat again and keep watch.
He had to make things right. He took a deep breath. “Mother, what I said before... It was rude. I was angry.”
“You still are.”
“You’re right. We should talk about things.”
“I’d like that. Whenever you are ready.”
His conscience eased at her words. The pressure inside that had been there since he’d learned of Ellison’s passing lessened. He nodded.
Chapter Nineteen
Sylvia awoke in a strange bed, a strange room and a strange house. A woman she didn’t recognize sat beside the bed, her head resting against the straight-backed chair. Her chestnut-brown hair was swept back and fashioned in a pretty knot, with the ends of a plaid bow at her nape, dangling over her lace collar. The young woman watched her steadily through wire-rimmed glasses.
“I’m Victoria Weber. How are you feeling?”
“Tommy?”
“He is here, and recovered from his ordeal. He will be glad to see you awake.” She stood. “I promised the doctor that I would let him know when you woke.”
“Nelson?” she asked quickly and then tried to bite the word off. She should have said “Doc.” She felt her cheeks warm.
Miss Weber smiled. “You are feeling better.”
“But—where am I?”
“At Dr. Graham’s.”
The implications of that troubled her. She remembered a dream about him. Had there been a kiss? The memory of him holding her, burrowing his face in her neck, came back full force. Had that really happened? “How long?”
“Since early this morning.”
She turned toward the window. Pink-and-orange clouds streaked across the sky. The sun was setting.
“Do you remember what happened?” Miss Weber asked.
“Some.”
“I’m sure it will come back to you. I’ll get Dr. Graham. You just rest.”
The woman left, leaving the door ajar. Sylvia heard voices that sounded from far off. Downstairs? Footsteps sounded—a step and a shuffle, step and a shuffle. She struggled to sit up, surprised at how difficult it was to move. Her arms—every part of her body—felt heavy and sore. Halfway through her struggle, the door burst open.
Tommy rushed in. “Ma! You’re awake!” He lunged for the bedframe, grasping it for support, and then climbed up onto the high bed, crawling to get to her.
She circled him with her arms and hugged him tight.
He grimaced.
“What is it?” she asked, immediately loosening her hold.
“I made it all the way here, Ma! I scraped my knees good, but I got here.”
She smoothed back the hair from his brow. “All the way from the river with your sore leg? That’s a wonder, Tommy! I’m so proud of you. You are one strong boy.” She hugged him to her again. Tears welled up and spilled from her eyes. He was safe!
“Well, it is good to see you awake,” Nelson said.
He stood in the doorway looking tired and worn and very dear. His thick dark brown hair stood on end, tousled as though he’d run his hands through it every which way, and there were shadows beneath his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and caked with mud—a complete mess.
She wasn’t sure what from her memories was true and what was a dream. Heat rose up her cheeks. Guess she’d just better keep still about any of it. One thing she was sure of—he was the one who had found her. He was the one who had brought her here. “Hello, Doc.”
He came to the side of the bed and brushed the hair from her forehead. “You sure gave us a scare. Let me help you sit up.”
He took hold of her under her arms and dragged her up to a higher sitting position. Then he wedged an extra pillow behind her back. It seemed he held on to her longer than was necessary. She didn’t mind a bit.
As he backed away, she realized that she was clean and clothed in a soft ivory nightdress. Where had that come from? And where were her clothes? Her cheeks flamed more. No one had ever taken care of her, except when she’d had Tommy. That had been a long time ago. And that had been Adele—a woman she knew.
Miss Weber came into the room. “Sadie brought a crock of soup over from the restaurant. I’ll run downstairs and get a bowl for you.”
Sylvia nodded in mute amazement.
“Miss Weber is one of the women from the train. She’s been a big help.”
She should be happy about it. He needed to find a good woman to help him in the office and this Miss Weber seemed to be making herself at home. She swallowed. “I guess she’s the one who cleaned me up and gave me this soft gown. She seems real nice.”
“She is nice.”
Sylvia pressed her lips together. “Well, then. Looks like she might be just what you need.”
“Could be,” Doc said. He looked at her kind of funny, like he was perturbed with her.
That look had an awful lot of longing in it. Thomas had looked at her in just such a way a long time ago. So long ago now that she had buried it deep inside. It had hurt to think on things that it conjured up, things she knew were over for her. The look in the doc’s eyes brought it all back and made her yearn again for things. She drew in a slow, deep breath to quiet her insides and lowered her gaze to Tommy. She kissed the top of his head. “You smell all soapy clean, son. Somebody got you to take a bath after you already had one in the river?” She said it teasingly. She ran her finger under the strap of his new suspenders. The shirt he wore, however, wasn’t new. “These aren’t your clothes.”
“Doc Graham got them for me!”
“Mrs. Blackwell lent them,” Nelson said. “Wyatt has grown out of them and Rhett hasn’t grown into them yet. She is happy to let Tommy use them.”
Sylvia swallowed. “That’s real kind of her. I’ll make sure to thank her.”
Miss Weber entered with a tray and a bowl of soup upon it. Tommy moved off the bed, and she placed the tray on Sylvia’s lap. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of rich chicken broth and noodles.
“Sylvia? How do you feel?”
He’d used her given name right in front of Miss Weber! “Plum tuckered out.”
“You’ve been through a lot. You will stay here for tonight.”
“Oh, Doc!” She nearly spilled her soup. “I can’t do that! It’s stopped raining now. I can go home...” She frowned, remembering suddenly that with the ferry gone, she couldn’t get back across the river. “I’m not real sure how at the moment, but I’ll figu
re something out.”
“No. You’ll stay here. Tommy too. As long as you need to until you have your strength back.”
She glanced at Miss Weber. What must she think! “Doc—it ain’t proper.”
“There’s no room at the hotel. It’s filled with others, just like you, who had to escape the flooding. I wouldn’t want to leave you alone there anyway. You need looking after. For one night, anyway.” His expression softened. “Perhaps you have forgotten that my mother is here. That should satisfy your worries.”
She nodded. “Guess there’s no place for me to go.”
“Then it’s settled.” He motioned to Tommy to scoot from the room. “Miss Weber? Will you take Tommy downstairs? I’ll bring the tray when Sylvia is finished.”
“Certainly.”
Sylvia reached to hug her son. That done, she sank back against the fluffy pillow. The sound of Miss Weber’s footsteps faded down the stairs with Tommy’s awkward gait that favored his injury.
“You are mighty bossy, telling me where I must stay.”
He shrugged and sat down on the bed beside her. “I’m the one who found you. Besides that, I’m your doctor now and doctors do get bossy when their patients don’t have the common sense to follow orders.” He took her hand in his and covered it with his other hand.
Her breath caught as tingles raced up her arm.
“I thought you’d drowned,” he said, his voice hoarse with concern. “I thought the river had taken you.”
This was a side of the doc she’d never seen before. He’d worried for her that much?
“I’m here. I’m safe. ’Cause of Tommy getting to you and then you coming for me.” With her free hand, she reached for him, wanting to ease the worry and the tension she sensed in him. “I’m gonna be fine. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to find me.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips.
The tray on her lap tilted and the bowl of soup started to slide. She drew back quickly, grasping the bowl. “Guess I better be still.”
He smiled. “I rode out yesterday afternoon to collect you and Tommy. I got as far as the ferry landing and realized it was gone. The water had spilled over the banks on your side of the river. I hated myself for waiting so long to check on you. I knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t leave your land until the last possible moment.” He swallowed. “I hated not knowing whether you were safe.”
“It wasn’t your place to—” She stopped at the frustrated look he gave her.
“Don’t tell me I shouldn’t have worried. You’re stubborn to a fault about that land of yours. What finally made you leave?”
“Well...the water came under the door. I figured it was time to get out.”
“You couldn’t make it to the DuBoises’?”
“Not with the lake between our farms.”
He raked his fingers through his hair.
“What is it?” she asked. She took his hand. “What is it?”
He stared at her hand holding his, then raised his gaze to hers. “I never want to feel that helpless ever again.”
Guess there wasn’t a need to say anything to that. He was a man used to being in charge, used to bossing people around and fixing their ailments. It humbled her, that he cared so much for her and Tommy.
He picked up her spoon, dipped it into the soup and brought it to her lips.
“I can feed myself.”
“I know.” His eyes were saying a lot more than his response.
She took the spoon into her mouth. The soup was tepid. It probably tasted wonderful. She couldn’t much tell with the way he looked at her and stole her breath away.
She didn’t trust herself with him so near. “I’ll do it. You need to sit over there.” With her chin, she pointed to the chair by the window.
“I’m too close?”
“Yes,” she whispered. And too handsome, and too charming, and too... She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t think with him so near.
“All right. You’ve been through an ordeal.” He handed her the spoon back and then he stood. “You scared the life out of me. Never, ever, scare me like that again.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Something fluttered in her chest. “I have a feeling that you don’t go around kissing your other patients.”
He stepped back from the bed. “You’re right.”
“Son?” An older woman stood at the door. She had dark hair with silver streaks running through it, pulled up and back in a simple knot at the back of her head. Small black shiny earrings decorated her earlobes.
“Come in, Mother. I’ll introduce you.”
She carried herself stiff and proper as she stepped into the room. Sylvia thought she was beautiful and elegant all at once. Her embroidered black silk dress rustled as she moved to the side of the bed. “I thought I’d better check on things. You’ve been up here for a while.”
The doc’s mouth tightened.
“I’d like you to meet Sylvia Marks, Tommy’s mother. Sylvia, this is my mother, Mrs. Judith Graham.”
The woman spoke, her voice cultured and low and...cold. “Miss Marks. A pleasure.”
Sylvia dipped her head. “Hello, ma’am.”
Nelson looked from his mother to her. “In the morning, Miller and a few others are heading downstream. They want to find any...animals that got caught in the river, and get an idea as to the extent of the damage.”
She was pretty sure when he said animals that he also meant people who had lost their battle to the river. She could have been one of them—Tommy too—but for him.
“Maybe you’ll come across my mule.”
“I’ll look for her.” Nelson sent Sylvia a small smile. “We will leave you to your soup. Get some rest.”
He ushered his mother out and then closed the door as they both left.
That woman didn’t want her here. Sylvia could sense it as sure as Adele could sense the rain.
She looked down at her soup. A minute ago, she’d been hungry. No longer. Yet she hadn’t eaten in more than a day. She took a sip, the taste of the salty broth registering.
She had a lot to muddle through.
The things Nelson had said just now. She knew he could charm the feathers off a bird if he had a mind to. She swallowed as another thought came to her—or love from a woman who had had too little of it. It would be so easy to lose her heart to him. Too easy.
Maybe she already had.
She drew in a shaky breath.
He had made it clear more than once that he was looking for a wife from among the women from the train. Someone pure and sweet and honorable. Someone like Miss Weber. She was perfect for him. Not someone like her.
But the way he’d acted—it was more than just being kind, more than being a little worried. He’d come for her in that terrible storm. She covered her face with a hand, remembering the look in his eyes. The dreams that she’d had—of him holding her with strong arms, murmuring against her hair, breathing against her neck. They were glorious dreams, but they were only that—dreams. Yet she wanted to feel his arms around her and feel him press his mouth to hers the way a man would do with a woman he loves. She yearned for it and she was fearful the whole of it had shown on her face and trembled, unspoken, in the air between them.
She felt what was left of her heart slipping away to him, piece by piece. Her chest ached from it and yet she couldn’t help it.
She loved him. She loved him something fierce.
Yet she wasn’t right for him.
The sooner she got back to her side of the river, the better it would be for both her and Tommy.
* * *
Nelson stood on the opposite side of the closed door for a full minute, battling with himself to keep from striding right back in there and kissing her proper. That was what he wanted to do. The t
hought shocked him. He was in totally unfamiliar territory. He had always felt protective of Sylvia, ever since first meeting her in the mercantile when she’d looked like a cornered cat facing off against a large mongrel dog. Even the kidnapping hadn’t changed that desire to protect her. But of late, something stronger, something deeper had woven into his feelings for her.
The chaste kisses weren’t something he had planned. He had been overcome with relief for having found her, for the fact she was alive. That, and that she looked utterly beautiful sitting there in his home, in his guest bed.
He ran a hand through his hair. He could make all the excuses to himself that he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted more of her. Possibly—all of her.
He headed downstairs.
“Nelson?” his mother called from the parlor. “It’s dark, and Miss Weber must get back to the hotel.”
“Of course. I’ll escort her back.”
“She’s been quite helpful. Perhaps you might take her to supper as a way to thank her? I don’t mind fending for myself tonight.”
He nodded and walked past her into the parlor, where Miss Weber gathered her things.
“You’ve been a huge help today. I am indebted.” He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch with her.
While they walked, he asked her about herself, where she came from, her family. He was careful to avoid the large puddles of mud as he assisted her from the boardwalk down to the street in order to cross over to the hotel.
At the door, he paused. “May I take you to supper? It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me today.”
She didn’t answer immediately. She searched his gaze. “I’d enjoy taking a meal with you. Truly I would. But I don’t think that I’m the one you want to be with just now.”
She was astute or somehow he’d given himself away. “Miss Marks and I are good friends. Nothing more.”
“You mean Sylvia, don’t you?” Miss Weber said. “I’m quite tired. I think you are too. Why don’t you ask me again in a day or two, if you feel inclined? And you don’t owe me a dinner for helping today. I was happy to be useful. Good night, Doctor.”
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