Heaven Scent

by SpursFanatic

  “Do you want to ride with me down to the docks this morning?” Patrick looked over at Rafe as he stabbed the last slice of ham and placed it on his plate.

  Dammit, Rafe had been eying that ham for himself. Now he had to settle for venison. “Yes, but I need to get back here before the noon meal. And, I have to run by Doc Longfellow’s house on the way.”

  Patrick spooned some marmalade on his toast. “Why? Is his wife in need of help?”

  “I’m buying Doc’s collection of medical books. His wife was happy to get rid of them. She said they were only good for collecting dust.”

  Patrick sat up in his chair and stared at Rafe with a frown. “With money the way it is, why in the world are you buying medical books?”

  Rafe cleared his throat. Only his mother knew about his interest in Tarin. He owed it to Patrick to make his intentions known.

  “I bought them for Tarin.”

  Patrick stared at him as though he had an oar sticking out of his ear. “Are you… courting her?”

  Rafe speared some eggs and shoved them into his mouth. He swallowed them down with a swish of coffee. “I’m trying like hell to court her, Patrick, but she won’t say yes.”

  Snorting, Patrick picked up his toast and took a bite. “You’re wasting your time.”

  Rafe grinned. “Two days of picnicking in the Commons. Two no’s. I‘m shooting for three-in-a-row today.”

  The silence in the room could’ve rivaled a monastery. Rafe glanced up, surprised to find hurt and disbelief warring in his brother’s eyes.

  “She’s going to receive you again today?”

  Rafe stilled. Now he understood.

  Patrick saw him as an ugly, rough-around-the-edges Texan. Someone better suited to lie beneath Tarin‘s noble shoe, rather than in her bed. Not that Patrick didn’t think Rafe was a good person. He just wasn’t good enough for Tarin.

  “Yes, we‘re going to the Commons again.” Rafe stared at him with a raised brow. Come on, say it, little brother.

  “Really…” Staring back at Rafe, Patrick’s eyes roamed his face. He shook his head slightly. “Thanks for trying.”

  Thanks for trying?

  “What do you mean?” Rafe’s voice was more bark than he’d intended.

  Patrick stopped eating to stare at him. “Well, I assume you’re doing this to get Worthington’s business… right?”

  Oh, hell. He hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t want word getting out that he was after Tarin’s money. Any traction he did have would be gone. “Why would you assume that? Tarin’s a beautiful woman.”

  “Think about it, Rafe. Do you really think the Brahmin will assume otherwise? They know the business is suffering.”

  Clenching his fists on top of the table, Rafe aired the truth. “What you’re saying is that they’ll think she couldn’t possibly fall for an ugly sonovabitch like me, right?” He sat back in his chair. “Who the hell cares what the Brahmin think, Patrick? I only care what Tarin thinks.”

  Frowning, Patrick stared at Rafe with round eyes. He tossed his napkin on the table. “You know, you‘re right. You’ve gotten farther with Tarin than any man ever has before. Certainly farther than I did.”

  Rafe had forgotten his brother recently asked Tarin to court him for the second time. Suddenly, he wanted to rip his head off and use it as a masthead on one of the ships.

  Patrick‘s eyes met his. “So, you’re saying you really care for her?”

  Rafe went back to squirming. He wasn‘t sure what he felt. But he did know that he didn‘t want another man near her. He had to make it known throughout the Brahmin that Tarin belonged to him. He might as well start with Patrick. That should keep any other potential suitors at bay.

  If not, he always had his knife.

  “I do. I won‘t take no for an answer, Patrick.”

  A slow grin spread across his brother’s face. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

  Rafe threw his napkin at Patrick’s face. “Then don’t.”

  ######

  Boston Harbor bustled with activity. Ships of all sizes lined the docks as far as the eye could see, with crews loading and unloading goods from all over the world. Carriages scrambled about, delivering goods to and from the ships. Shouts and whistles pierced the air, while seagulls buzzed overhead, hoping to snatch a morsel from one of the fishing boats.

  Rafe and Patrick always made a point of riding the length of the harbor before stopping at their office. It was good to keep an eye on the competition, no matter how big or small. Knowing who their customers were always proved advantageous. That was how they gained their appointment this afternoon with the fur merchant.

  Rafe slowed their carriage when he noticed a glossy, cherrywood phaeton near the Hunter shipping docks.

  Patrick turned to face him. “Why are you slowing down?”

  Rafe squinted against the morning sun as he shifted to get a better look. “Is that Kent’s vehicle?”

  Patrick leaned over to see past a stack of crates at the base of the ship‘s ramp. “Sure looks like it.”

  What was Kent doing at the docks? Medical supplies were delivered to all of the area physicians, including the universities. There was no need for them to collect supplies at the docks.

  Rolling to a stop, Rafe looked around to see if he could spot Kent. “Is Hunter shipping opium these days?”

  “Opium?!” Patrick cried, his eyes wide. “Not that I know of. Why?”

  Shaking his head, Rafe didn’t reply. He wasn’t about to voice his suspicions about Kent until he had proof. Maybe today was his lucky day.

  Suddenly, a loud crash sounded in the distance. Looking up at the massive ship before them, Rafe saw a stack of crates heaped haphazardly near the ship’s railing. A man in a long coat and top hat yelled at one of the crewmen.

  Kent.

  “Rafe, do you see him?” Patrick’s elbow touched Rafe’s side.

  “Yes.”

  “What is he doing on Hunter’s ship?”

  Good question. If Kent was into opium, wouldn’t he have someone to take care of the menial tasks? Opium was a lucrative business. Kent could easily afford to hire help. If not, what the hell was he doing up there?

  “Does Hunter usually allow clients to board his ships?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No, his policies are essentially the same as ours. It’s a safety risk, not to mention a potential for loss of goods.”

  Another crewman joined the men at the railing. The two workers bent to right the crates as Kent looked on. They had three stacked and had just picked up the fourth when Rafe stiffened, the sting to his gut so sharp, it stole his breath.

  On the side of the crate, in bold black letters, was the name Worthington.

  #####

  If her heart didn’t slow, Tarin would have to find Dr. Kent and request medical care.

  Pulling back the parlor curtain to look out the front window, Tarin released a deep breath. Rafe was due at her house any minute and much to her dismay, excitement bubbled within.

  Not that she would admit that to him or anyone else. She was still determined to remain unmarried until she had her medical degree.

  However, she hadn’t expected to feel so disheartened when she received his note yesterday, stating he would not attend her. Disappointment had plagued her so heavily that not even a banner day collecting petition signatures with Kit had lifted her spirits.

  Had she taken her emotions, her passion for him too far? Was he coming by today to rescind his courtship request?

  Tarin fisted her hands in her skirt. She had to make a point of acting the proper lady. She was British nobility for heavens sake, trained by the best etiquette instructors in England. She’d never had a problem displaying the utmost decorum in any given situation. Surely, she could act a lady in the company of a Brahmin gentleman.

  Spotting his carriage down the street, Tarin dropped the curtain and ran to the mirror. Perusing herself for the hundredth time that morning, she pinched
her cheeks to gain a little color then ran to the sofa. Plopping down, she straightened her jade muslin skirt and picked up a female medical journal she had on the center table. Flipping through the pages, she listened as Hobbs opened the front door and spoke to Rafe. The parlor door opened a second later.

  Rafe entered first, carrying a crate the size of a very large chest. Hobbs followed immediately with another of the same size.

  Excitement sprang her from the sofa. Rafe was so handsome. Just the sight of him stole her breath, regardless of how often she saw him. Her heart beat incredibly fast, as though it wanted to jump from her chest and greet Rafe itself.

  “Just place it over here, Hobbs.” Rafe nodded to the floor in front of the opposite end of the sofa. He placed his own crate beside it as Hobbs exited the room with a click of the door.

  Rafe dusted off his hands as his gaze met hers. “Lady Worthington.” He gave her a curt nod.

  She offered a small curtsy and a smile. “Mr. Sutherland.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It is good to see you.”

  He stood poised as though he wanted to stalk across the room, but he did not move. Mild thunder swirled in the depths of his dark eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He said nothing.

  Tarin’s chest felt weighted with chains. Did he not miss her, too?

  “What is in the crates?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  His sly grin was the best thing she had seen in two days. “A surprise for you.”

  Catching her breath, Tarin eyed the crates from where she stood. He had gotten her a gift!

  “For me?” She started towards them.

  Shaking his head, he stepped in front of them. “You can’t see until we return from the park.”

  She stopped, hands on hips. “That is cruel! Why do you tease me with a large gift only to tell me I cannot have it? Why can‘t we go to the park after I see it?”

  He chuckled. “Because I have a feeling you will want to spend all day on it and I have an appointment this afternoon at two and a half. This way, we won‘t have to rush our meal and you can spend all evening basking in the wonder of it.”

  She gasped on a smile. “You are the most arrogant man.”

  Rafe’s laughter drew her to him like he towed her on a string. She stopped a foot in front of him. “You are very confident I will like it.”

  He stared down at her, his brown eyes twinkling like the stars. “Oh, I know you will. You’ll probably remain hidden away in this house for months after this.”

  She reached up to touch his vest, but caught herself. “What if I promise to show the utmost patience during our meal - can I see it before we go to the park?”

  He studied her, his gaze brushing over her hair, her face, before he spoke. “Well, we could just picnic in here and you could enjoy your gift as we eat.”

  She blinked her eyes on a frown. “Picnic? In the parlor?”

  He grinned. “Why not? I can move this table out of the way and spread out the blanket on the floor.”

  Moving past her, Rafe proceeded to do just that. In minutes, they had a feast spread out on the blanket and the crates pulled over within reach. Tarin had never dreamed of such a breach in propriety. Leave it to Rafe to go against proper decorum.

  With utmost care, Rafe helped her to the floor, her back against the sofa. Sitting down beside her, his scent wafted over to fill her nostrils. Breathing it in, Tarin wondered if her father could have it bottled for her in Paris.

  Reaching into a crate, Rafe’s shoulder brushed hers as he pulled out a book. He handed it to her with a tentative smile.

  Looking down, it shocked her to see a medical journal on fatal diseases. Her gaze shot to his before she glanced at the two crates and back.

  Her heart pounded heavily. “What is all of this?”

  “I bought Doc Longfellow’s medical library. For you.”

  Tarin stilled. She could feel tears building behind her eyes.

  “You bought…” she glanced at the crates again, “you bought all of this… for me?”

  He nodded. “You’re going to need a library when you become a physician. I thought this would give you a good start.”

  Elation made her squeal. Throwing her arms around his neck, Tarin hugged him tight. If she had ever doubted Rafe’s support of her career, Tarin could never say so again. He had given her the greatest gift imaginable - his belief in her.

  Rafe’s arms encircled her, holding her close. Tarin never wanted to move.

  “Do you like them or should I pack them up?”

  Pulling back, she feigned outrage as tears swam in her eyes. “Don’t you dare touch them.” She pressed her lips to his and drew away. “This is the most thoughtful gift you could have given me.”

  His grin was the one that usually made her knees weak. Fortunately, she already sat on the floor.

  “Well, at least now you know when it comes to gifts, it’s all downhill from here.”

  Laughing, she said, “You have spoiled me far beyond merit. You are a sweet, sweet man.”

  He set her away from him and busied himself with gathering their food. “Don’t say that. You’re going to ruin my reputation.”

  She smiled as she picked up the book and opened it to the table of contents. “It will remain our secret.”

  After handing her a plate, Rafe returned to his position beside her. He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles before setting his plate on his lap. He tugged at his cravat.

  “Is it too tight?” She swallowed a morsel of cheese.

  He groaned. “I hate these things.”

  She grinned. He may have been raised in Boston Brahmin society, but Rafe Sutherland was a man of Texas. “Remove it.”

  Frowning, he stared at her as though gauging whether she jested or not.

  “Rafe, we have gone well beyond propriety on many occasions. Removing your cravat would be the least of them all.”

  A slow smile blossomed on his face. He worked at the cravat around his neck. “I see I’m having a positive influence on you already.” Freeing it from his neck, he made a production of tossing it behind him on the sofa.

  She laughed. “When I first met you, I think I referred to it as scandalous influence.”

  He gave her a rakish grin. “It‘s all a matter of perspective, sweetheart.”

  Eating her food quickly, Tarin picked up the book in her lap as Rafe continued to eat. Reading allowed, she surprised herself with the words that came from her mouth.

  “Based on autopsies, it is believed that were a patient able to undergo surgery, some forms of cancer could be removed from the body - if the ulcer or growth has not attached itself to nearby tissue.”

  Tarin’s heart pounded as air filled her lungs. Could it be? “Rafe, do you realize what this means?” She grabbed his arm.

  He stopped eating to look at her. She didn’t wait for his response.

  “With Dr. Morton’s discovery of ether here two years ago, we have that ability now. With my mother’s cancer, we now have a chance of curing it.”

  He frowned, his face a mask of uncertainty. “Tarin -”

  “If I get into the college,” she continued, her voice rising in excitement, “and it does open up for full medical degrees, I could study surgery. I could cure her cancer -”

  He set his plate aside. “Tarin -” he said, with more force.

  “Don’t you see?” She interrupted him once again. “If I could cure cancer, she would be alive today.”

  Rafe shocked her with a hand under her chin. He turned her to face him. His eyes were dark, troubled beneath his furrowed brows. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I know what you’re doing. Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “But I know I could finally do something -”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Tarin, no matter how hard or how much you work… you can’t bring her back.”

  Rafe’s words sealed her throat. Blood rushed to her ears, air clogged her lungs. Her nerve-endings
tingled like painful pinpricks. Her heart pounded in wild, irregular beats, as a huge tidal wave of pain washed over her.

  She burst into tears.

  The next thing she new, Rafe held her on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around her. He kissed her temple as Tarin cried her grief.

  “I tried so hard, Rafe. I fed her, I bathed her, I read to her.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “I sat by her,” her breath caught on a sob, “every day. I watched her every move, looking for signs of pain, trying to keep her from getting worse.”

  Her breath caught again as she shuttered. “That last day, she said my name.” Her gaze met his. “She talked to me, really talked to me, and held me in her arms. I was the happiest little girl in London.” Her voice filled with tears again. “Then she... she said she had to go. And she just… died. Right there - next to me.”

  She buried her face against his vest. “I tried so hard but it wasn’t enough.”

  Rafe squeezed her against him, the heat of his body soothing against the frost that had settled inside her.

  “Tarin, you never do anything halfway.” His voice echoed inside his chest where her ear laid against it. “You were probably the best caregiver she had - even at your young age.”

  She snuggled against him. “I can remember the priest walking into the room. He had already been there twice before, to give last rights. She had always lived beyond them. This time, she was gone before he got there. I wondered what good he was to her now? Why was he there?” She tightened her hold on him. “I was so angry. I kept thinking that if he had gotten there sooner, maybe she would have lived again.”

  She shook her head against his chest. “Looking back, I realize he was there for us rather than my mother. But he could have done nothing to prepare me, or my father, for God’s will. The irony is that the only thing I remember of the funeral is his hand on my head, telling me she was with God now and no longer sick.” She sat back in the circle of his arms. “I hold onto that to this day. It is a comfort.”

  Rafe’s own hand in her hair soothed Tarin. “So he did do some good, after all.”