by Leigh Lee
“Good,” he whispered, his face growing pale. “It is always important to check, or you might find your patient hemorrhaging after you have sewn him up.” He opened his eyes and looked at the incision. “Use reef knots to ligate the artery.”
Eugenia dabbed more cotton to the wound. “Are you doing all right?”
He nodded, closing his eyes again while she threaded the suture needle. Nevertheless, as soon as she began the ligation, his eyes opened and homed in on her fingers. “That’s the way. Not too tight.”
A third and fourth dram of whiskey, swallowed in quick succession, helped the captain through the rest of the procedure. When it came time to close the wound, Eugenia held her ground. “You are making me nervous. Lay back and stop barking orders at me unless you want a line of crooked sutures.”
Jeff held up his glass. “Fill my glass, and I will attend to my whiskey and leave the rest to you.”
“At last,” she sighed. After doing as he bid, she refocused on her work. Without Jeff watching her every movement, she was less apprehensive and tied a beautiful row of sutures on his forearm.
She applied a salve to aid in healing and wrapped the wound in clean bandages. Next, she loosened the sheets used to hold his body still so he could rest in comfort. When she was done, she looked up to find his face blanched. “You are in pain. Will you take something now?”
He nodded, and after she had placed a drop of morphine on his tongue, she sat by the bed. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “You did a splendid job,” he said, his words slurring. “You performed well under pressure.” His brilliant blue eyes, stared adoringly at her face.
Eugenia smoothed damp, dark strands of hair from his forehead. He was handsome even now—pale and intoxicated—and she could not have loved him more. “Thank you, dear,” she laughed, kissing his cheek. “You did not make it easy. Now sleep.”
Eugenia woke in the morning still sitting at Jeff’s bedside, her head resting on the bed, and her hand still in his. She felt his forehead and was relieved to find it not hot with fever. Tiptoeing from the room, she hurried down the stairs.
Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rigby seated at the table, while Mrs. Stewart stood at the wood stove cooking eggs and bacon in an iron skillet. Her stomach rumbled at the aroma, and she realized it had been almost a full day since she had last eaten. A hot pot of coffee sat on the table, and after greeting them, she grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured herself some of the dark brew.
“How is the captain?” Rigby asked, jumping up to hold a chair out for her.
Flipping eggs onto a platter with bacon and hot biscuits, Mrs. Stewart joined them at the table. “Did he sleep well?” she asked passing the plate.
“Captain Bradford slept the night through, and I am very pleased to say that there is no sign of a fever this morning.”
The other two smiled approval and enjoyed their hearty breakfast until the patient upstairs bellowed for his nurse.
Jeff convalesced at Mrs. Stewart’s house for another three days, and they were the happiest of Eugenia’s life. His wound continued to improve, and even Jeff remarked that the scarring would be minimal. Each day he grew a little stronger.
One evening, much to her surprise, Jeff lured her close and without warning, his long arm encircled her waist and pulled her down to sit next to him on the bed. Watching his mischievous grin, she scolded, “What are you doing, doctor, trying to reopen your wound?”
He presented her a devilish grin. “I seek to perform an experiment.” He wiggled the fingers of his right hand. “See, my sweet? No ill effects to my dexterity. I can even do this—” Much to her shock, he held her close and deftly unlaced the front of her blouse.
It was difficult to remain stern in the face of such a handsome bit of devilry. “Captain,” she murmured, snatching the front of her blouse closed, “what is it you hope to prove by this experiment?”
He reached for her, and brushing her hands aside, pulled open her chemise. “That you adore my kisses.” His head bent to her bosom, and he laid feather-like kisses to each breast.
Heady excitement flooded her, forcing a moan of pure delight. She would have liked to let such bliss continue, but Mrs. Stewart was coming up the steps with a tray of rattling dishes. Eugenia quickly tightened the laces of her blouse. “It is time for your supper, wicked man.”
His look became extremely contrary as he watched her repair her appearance. “All I am hungry for is a very adorable sergeant and the treasures hidden beneath the clothing she wears.”
She gave him a censoring sideways glance. “Have you been nipping whiskey? Your behavior is particularly daring tonight.”
“Indeed, woman, you must forgive this simple soldier and consider things from my viewpoint. Confinement to bed leaves few options for the man forced to watch such beauty traipsing about the room. Why, my dear, you have tested my temperance over and again, and now I lay at the edge of my endurance.”
The sparkle of lust in his eyes was undeniable. Her cheeks blushed hotly as she pulled the covers to his chin and tossed him a grin. “A fine speech, Captain, but I do not traipse. Your health must be vastly improved for your thoughts to wander along those more concupiscent aspects of life.”
Mrs. Stewart entered the room with a cheery, “Hello,” holding a tray laden with food. She must have noted the stain of color across Eugenia’s cheeks and the lively glint in the captain’s eyes, for she bobbed her head and after placing the tray on the bedside table, she scurried out with a giggle.
“See what you have done?” Eugenia scolded catching a waft of savory beef stew. “You have scared her away.” She lifted a spoon to his lips, but the stubborn man would not oblige her and open his mouth. Replacing the spoon on the platter, she gave him a questioning stare. “What is the matter now?”
He sat forward. “Come here.”
She pressed his shoulders back onto the pillows. “Sir, do not think to order me about as if I were still under your command.”
Jeff’s strength surprised her when he grasped her waist and pulled her on top of him. “Do you wish to be?” he asked, pure devilment playing on his features.
“You are an impossible patient, the likes of which I hope never to nurse again,” she sputtered, red faced and discomposed by his boldness.
“Kiss me,” he demanded, placing his lips a breath from hers, his eyes glowing with desire.
As she viewed the ardent intent on his adoring face, she wondered how she could not oblige him. Pressing her lips to his was the easy part. Enduring the hottest of passion known to woman, without succumbing, was the impossible part. He proved capable of taking her higher than she imagined possible with nothing more than a kiss, and for it, she was left breathless and wanting.
~*~*~
Jeff looked into her emerald eyes and drank in the soft lights of love glowing therein. His self-imposed bed rest of the last three days had been more out of a need to be close to Eugenia than for recuperation. Seeing her in Dunlap’s clutches with a pistol to her head had been the greatest fright of his life. The threat of losing her had driven within him a deep yearning need to remain by her side. Though she was strong of character, no one should have to endure what she had. He needed time with her to reassure himself the harrowing experience had not affected her.
Yet seeing her each day and being unable to drag her into his embrace had been a hardship he had not considered. He was besotted with lust and wanted nothing more than to make love to her.
“I am assured, sweet Eugenia, if I stay another day trapped in this room with you, the temptation to—” He paused to stroke aside the hair that had fallen into her face and began again. “The only thing that will pacify this thirst—”
Her brow knotted with concern. “What is it you are trying so hard to say?” she asked.
Again, he paused and smiled at her earnest, most innocent expression. Teasing her was a poor substitute for what he really needed to do to her. “Well,” he grinned, his cheeks dim
pling. “It is apparent you need someone to curb this uncanny knack of yours to find trouble. Since I have more experience than anyone, I suppose I am best suited for the task. I must never let you out of my sight.”
“I do not understand. I am to be discharged—is that not what you told me?” Eugenia asked in confusion.
“An excellent point. Ah. I have it. You could travel with me as a nurse.” He nodded, grinning at his own wit.
Pressing her palms to his shoulders, Eugenia sat back, miffed. “I refuse to follow you around the countryside as your nurse! What opinion will your fellow men have of me if I were to do that? As a lad—there would be no questions asked. As a woman—rumors would fly. I would be labeled your mistress!”
“Well, then, you leave us no other option.” Suddenly serious he searched her face. “We must marry.”
Eugenia caught her breath. “Marry?”
Jeff’s eyes narrowed mockingly. “Suddenly you are uncharacteristically timid. If you have doubts concerning my love for you, let me assure you. I do not plan to tarry and let what I deem most precious fall into the hands of another man. If you love me, then marry me!” He pulled her forward and moaned softly against her lips, “Marry me, my love.”
With tears coursing down her cheeks, Eugenia answered. “Yes.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed his lips, eyelids, cheeks, and forehead repeatedly until he began laughing. “Madam, save your exuberance for our wedding night.” He sobered and grasped her face in his hands. “I love you, Eugenia Johnson.”
“And I you, my darling captain.”
Epilogue
After Jeff returned to Camp Letterman, Eugenia remained at Mrs. Stewart’s home. A simple evening wedding ceremony was planned to take place at the camp in a week’s time. Everyone at Camp Letterman wanted to be a part of the event. The drum corps and band practiced the wedding march and offered to provide music for a party afterward. The cook began arrangements for a delicious meal, to serve directly after the ceremony. For the first time, he allowed a woman, Mrs. Stewart, to aid in the preparation of it.
On the day before the wedding, Mrs. Stewart surprised Eugenia with a large box. Upon opening it, Eugenia saw the emerald gown she had coveted the day the dressmaker came to visit.
“How?” she asked in awe.
Mrs. Stewart gave a broad grin. “I made up my mind the day you tried it on that you should have it. I had a feeling a wedding might be in your future. You and the doctor are so perfect for each other.”
“You are wonderful” Eugenia hugged her. “Thank you. It is the best wedding gift I could have received.”
A clanging of the bell at the front door sent Maddie scurrying down the stairs. As Eugenia stood holding the gown in front of her, she looked into the mirror, imagining her upcoming wedding day. Fresh tears flowed freely. This was her dream come true. She was marrying the man she loved, and though she could not imagine why, he loved her in return. She could not be happier.
Downstairs, Mrs. Stewart called up to her. “Eugenia, please come down and join us in the parlor. Captain Bradford is here.”
Eugenia gingerly spread the gown out on the bed, and then took a few moments to fluff her hair and pinch color into her cheeks before descending the stairs. Jeff was waiting for her in the hall. As soon as she saw him, Eugenia gave a thrilled laugh and rushed into his arms. Rising up on her tiptoes, she pursed her lips for a kiss.
Jeff cleared his throat and whispered in her ear. “Darling, as much as I would love to accommodate you, we are not alone.” Taking her hand, he placed it on his arm and walked with her into the parlor. An older couple sat together on the love seat. As soon as they entered, the gentleman bolted up adjusting the dark spectacles he wore. Offering a hand to the woman beside him, he pulled her to a stand. Both stared at her with curiosity.
Eugenia glanced up at Jeff, who in turn gave her waist a squeeze. “Eugenia, I would like to introduce my parents, Lord Alexander Bradford, and my dear mother, Lady Rebecca Bradford. Father, Mother—this is my bride, Miss Eugenia Johnson.”
Eugenia was speechless. She had not expected that on such short notice Jeff’s parents would be able to attend their wedding. The older couple rushed forward with outstretched hands, as she found her voice. “My goodness, Lord and Lady Bradford, it is such a pleasure to meet you both!”
Jeff’s mother had an engaging smile that assured Eugenia they were going to be close friends.
“Call me Rebecca, dear child, and since we are to be family soon, I think a hug is in order!” She threw her arms around Eugenia and kissed each cheek.
Lord Bradford was right behind her. “Save some for me, my dear wife,” he said hurrying to take his turn and gave Eugenia a hug as well. Releasing her, he smiled down at her. “Call me Papa Alexander.”
Eugenia hesitated in her answer wondering over the dark lenses Jeff’s father wore.
As if he could read her thoughts, Alexander lifted the spectacles to reveal the most brilliant ice blue eyes, she had ever seen. “Do not let these trouble, you, my dear. I am not blind. I have an affliction that makes me highly sensitive to bright light.”
Jeff moved in quickly to rescue her. Grinning, he wrapped protective arms around her, pulling her backward to lean against his chest. “You two are going to frighten her!”
“If she hasn’t been terrorized by that scowl of yours, I doubt she will be intimidated by us,” his father was quick to point out.
Rebecca’s soft voice rang out in chastisement. “Alexander, I believe it was you who taught Jeffery that expression.”
“Humph. I never scowl,” Alexander protested.
Rebecca laughed and pointed at her husband’s face. “Ah, see there? The very look.”
Watching the arrogant knotting of his sire’s brow, Jeff begged to disagree. “I never look like that.”
His mother laughed. “Perhaps we should ask your lovely fiancée what she thinks.”
Eugenia smiled at the banter between Jeff and his parents, and she had to agree, the likeness between Alexander and Jeffrey Bradford was striking. Other than the darkened spectacles that Jeff’s father wore, they could be twins. Glancing at Jeff, she shook her head. “Darling, the first time I met you, you were very stern.”
“I remember it well,” Jeff replied in his defense. “You were late for our appointment.”
Eugenia blushed. “Yes, and you scared me half to death that day.” Turning to Rebecca, she felt it wise to change the topic. “I wish to thank you for your concoction of healing herbs. I understand it made all the difference in my recovery.”
Smiling, Rebecca took her arm and together they sat on the settee. “You are most welcome. Jeffery wrote me when you fell ill. His letter described your symptoms. He was devastated that you were still not improving. I had a servant ride all night to deliver the potion. I am so pleased it worked.” She glanced at the men who were conversing quietly over brandies and cigars. “You know, I have never seen Jeffery so happy nor look at a woman the way he looks at you.”
Eugenia blushed. “I can assure you, his love is returned.”
The rest of the evening was spent chatting. Mrs. Stewart served sandwiches and joined them for supper. Alexander uncorked a bottle of wine he had brought along which they all enjoyed. It was well past dark when Jeff escorted his parents into town to secure lodging.
The day of the wedding, Mrs. Stewart helped Eugenia dress. After buttoning up the back of the gown, she surprised Eugenia by fastening a string of pearls around her neck. “I wore these pearls on my own wedding day,” she said misty eyed. “Please use them for your ‘something borrowed’.”
Eugenia swung around, fingering the beautiful strand, and hugged her. “Thank you. You have done so much for me. How can I ever repay you?”
“Oh my dear, I am so happy for you,” the older woman said swiping at her tears with her apron. “You are like the child I never had.”
Giving her another hug, Eugenia smiled. “You honor me.”
The older woman looked at Eugenia dolefully. “Promise me that you will stay in touch, and perhaps even visit me from time to time. That is all I ask.”
“I promise I will.”
~*~*~
Later, everyone assembled in front of the camp’s chaplain to await the bride. The sun had set, and a gentle breeze blew the flames of the torches posted to light the ceremony. Jeff and his father stood in front of a makeshift altar built from bales of hay decorated with wild flowers and topped with candles. Attired in a dress uniform coat, Jeff fidgeted with his collar. “Where can she be?” he asked, readjusting the red sash at his waist for the nth time.
“Patience, son. You cannot rush a woman on her wedding day,” Alexander Bradford answered and then with a smile he added, “There is no fear in love, my son.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jeff asked.
Alexander shrugged. “Ask your mother. It is her story to tell.”
When Jeff shot his father a quizzical stare, Alexander shrugged but offered no further comment.
~*~*~
As the band began the wedding march, Eugenia walked from the tent where she had been waiting and headed down a path lined with lit candles, her eyes focused on Jeff. Her stomach was aflutter, and the bouquet she held shook in her nervous hands. So much had happened since those early days when she first met this man, but she could not love him more if she tried.
Jeff stared slack-jawed when his bride came into view. His father laughed. “I remember being just as stunned at the sight of your mother coming down the aisle.” He jabbed his son’s arm. “Shut your mouth, son. You will draw flies!”
Jeff clamped his mouth closed but could not take his eyes from the beautiful vision that seemed to float gracefully toward him. He thought of the night when he had first discovered his sergeant was a woman. Seeing his alluring fairy now—so perfect, so beautiful, he wondered why he had never once guessed the truth. How strange life could be. Today he was marrying that ragamuffin sergeant, and he could not be happier.
