A Thin Line

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “You were shot.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She reached her hand up to find the blood pulsing out as his heart beat. “My God, you are losing more blood than a man should.” She ripped her petticoat off and tore it into strips. She made a bandage, stuffing the wound, then she wrapped a strip tightly around it, tying it off.

  “Pest, you drive. I don’t know that I can control the horse.”

  “Should I keep on the way we are or turn around?”

  “Keep on,” he rasped.

  He began to weave. She propped him up and sat so he was braced between her and the back of the seat. Mikala took the reins and slapped them against the horse’s rump. With every rut they hit, Gabe moaned. The bandage on his shoulder showed bright red with the blood he was losing. Eventually the road joined the main thoroughfare that was clogged with traffic.

  Mikala had not driven a phaeton in a very long time, and then it had only been twice. She prayed her memory would serve her well and she would get him home in time to receive help. Drivers of larger, heavier coaches yelled at her as she darted between them. Finally, after what seemed forever, Mikala saw Grosvenor Square ahead of them and let out a sob of relief.

  She pulled in front of their house and began yelling for help. Hamlin came to the door first, followed quickly by Judith and Sarah.

  “Your Grace, what happened?” Hamlin asked.

  “We were attacked on the road. We need a surgeon immediately.”

  “Mikala, where is your husband? He has stirred up quite a lot of trouble with his questions.”

  “Mack,” Mikala cried. “Gabe’s hurt. He’s been shot. He’s lost so much blood.”

  Mack quickly dismounted and tied his horse before moving to the phaeton. “Mikala, step aside. Send three strong footmen to me,” he directed the butler. “Have a stable man retrieve a man named McGregor. His is an old military surgeon. Tell him it’s urgent,” and he gave them directions.

  Sarah barred the door with her body when Mack and the three footmen started carrying Gabe into the house.

  “I will not have that bastard enter my house!” She screeched.

  “This is my house now and if you do not want me to put you in Bedlam, you will step aside and let us do what is best for my husband!” Stunned at the way Mikala spoke to her, the group found it easy to push past the older woman. Kala opened the door to their bedchamber and pulled down the bedcovers. She laid thick toweling under his shoulder.

  “Mikala,” he mumbled incoherently.

  “I’m here, Gabe,” she said, taking his hand and pushing his sweat-matted hair off of his forehead.

  “Should have protected you better.”

  “You did,” she said.

  “McKenzie.”

  “Hawke.”

  “Take care of her. They’re still after her.”

  “I will guard her with my life.”

  “Thank you, brother,” he said before passing out.

  “I wanted you two to become friends, but not like this,” Mikala said, still holding Gabe’s hand as sobs racked her body. Mack pulled her into his strong arms, so like his brother’s.

  “Whore! Not even dead and you turn to another man! And that bastard!”

  Mikala dropped her husband’s hand, jerked away from Mack and stormed across the room. She brought her hand back and slapped her mother-in-law. “Get out now!” Mikala growled before slamming the door in the other woman’s face.

  “I don’t think she likes either of us very much,” Mack mused.

  “The feeling is mutual,” Mikala wiped at the tears on her cheeks, smearing blood across her face. Hamlin and Gabe’s valet shuffled around the room, readying things for the surgeon. The fire blazed and Mikala stripped off her cloak. She sat on the empty side of the bed, taking Gabe’s hand once more. The surgeon that Mack had sent for was the same man that had dealt with her sister-in-law’s head injury.

  “Your Grace, you should leave the room,” the old man said.

  “No, I have to stay with him. I have to know he will make it.”

  “Mikala, you should listen to McGregor.”

  “No.”

  “Then stand back. We are going to have to hold him down and you need to be out of the way.”

  Mikala stood back and watched the surgeon unwrap the bandage. Blood oozed around the wound.

  “Bullet is lodged. I’m going to have to dig it out,” the surgeon said.

  “Dear Lord.”

  “Whisky.” Hamlin handed him a full bottle of the amber liquid. “Hold him down men.” Kala watched as each of them took up a position around her husband’s prone body. As McGregor poured whisky into the wound to disinfect it, Gabe yelled and tried to thrash about. He took a pair of pincers from his bag, and after pouring whisky over them as well, he set about digging the ball and bits of cloth out of Gabe’s shoulder.

  “Roll him onto his side.”

  Mikala stared as the surgeon flushed the wound with whisky once more. Gabe groaned, gritting his teeth.

  “Hold on, brother,” Mack said as they rolled him onto his back once more.

  Mikala watched the usually jovial older man cross the room and take a piece of metal out of the fire, the end wrapped in cloth. “What are you going to do?”

  “Mikala, I would leave if I were you,” Mack grunted as they fought Gabe.

  “No,” she stiffened her back, bracing for whatever came next. However, she wasn’t prepared for what happened next in the least. The surgeon sprinkled some sort of powder on the wound before placing the heated piece of metal in the wound to cauterize it. The scream that ripped from Gabe turned her heart over as much as the stench turned her stomach. The next thing she knew, she had fallen to her knees and felt for a chamber pot so she could lose her lunch into it.

  Unaware of how much time passed, she felt a fresh breeze in the room. Mack helped her to her feet and passed her off to Gabriel’s grandmother before shutting the connecting door.

  “I need to go back in there,” she said weakly.

  “Not until you get yourself cleaned up. What did you think you were doing staying in there?”

  “I had no idea it would be that bad. Judith, I can’t lose him.”

  “My grandson is hard to get rid of. He will be fine. But first, let’s take care of you.”

  After a bath and a change of clothes, Mack allowed Mikala back into Gabe’s room. “How is he?”

  “Resting. He keeps calling your name. Perhaps he’ll settle down a bit if he knows you are close by. McGregor said we need to watch for fever.”

  “Is there anything special that should be done?”

  “No. Treat it like any other fever. We must also change his bandages twice a day.”

  “We?”

  “I am not leaving you alone, even with the guards he has posted. He would kill me.”

  “All right.” Mikala saw the look in Judith’s eyes when she looked upon the man that favored Gabriel. Taking pity on the woman she made introductions long overdue, “Judith, I want you to meet someone very special. This is your grandson, Stuart McKenzie. Mack, meet your grandmother. Now, I am going to check on my husband.”

  Kala walked away from the pair and towards her husband lying prone on the bed. His face looked ashen and sweat had beaded up on his body. She looked around the room and found a washcloth. Kala dipped it in a bowl of clean water and rinsed it out. She moved back to the bed and crawled up in the middle of it and began to gently wipe his body down, needing to touch him to know he was still with her.

  “Kala,” he moaned.

  “I’m here,” she said, grabbing his good hand.

  “Not hurt?”

  “No, I’m not hurt.”

  “Mack will take care of you.”

  “You are going to be the one taking care of me.”

  “Until I’m well.”

  “Yes.” Kala crawled up on the bed beside him and held his hand tight in hers. She gently caressed the scar on his cheek, knowing he
had once again sacrificed himself to protect her. He fell into a fitful sleep and within the hour, a fever came upon him.

  Chapter 34

  Mikala fought Gabe’s fever throughout the next three days. She only rested when Judith or Mack forced her to leave her husband’s side, and then she stayed gone just long enough to satisfy them. She forced him to take in small amounts of liquids and gruel. He moved between chills to burning up. On one of the rare occasions that he rested quietly, Hamlin delivered a note to Mikala.

  “Thank you, Hamlin.”

  “Your Grace,” he bowed before leaving the room. Mikala opened the missive, reading through the letter twice. She lowered her head allowing silent tears to stream down her face. Just when they had come to a kind of truce, their lives had begun to unravel all over again. First Gabe gets shot. Then he contracts a fever. Now, her solicitor found her a cottage. Funny how I had forgotten that, she thought somewhat sadly. She laid the piece of paper on the dressing table when Gabe became restless once more.

  During the worst part of his fever, Mikala gained more knowledge of her husband’s body as she sponged him in an attempt to keep him cool. She felt no lust at this time, just a fierce determination to see him through this. When chills shook him so that his teeth chattered, she quickly undressed and crawled beneath the covers with him to lend him the warmth of her body. Exhausted she drifted off to sleep.

  “No! Admiral!” Mikala awoke to Gabe kneeling over her, his silvery blue eyes glassy. He gripped both of her upper arms painfully tight and shook her roughly. “Admiral, can you hear me? I’ll see the bloody bastards dead!”

  “Gabe!”

  “All guns made ready!”

  “Gabriel!”

  “For the sake of Admiral Nelson, let your aim be true! Ready men?”

  “Gabriel!”

  “Fire!”

  Kala found herself pinned to the mattress, unable to move. She felt his grip slacken and twisted just enough so that he fell back onto the bed with a groan. He grimaced and reached up to touch his shoulder. Mikala quickly grabbed his hand and held it in hers. “Gabe, darling, you must lie still.”

  “Admiral Nelson’s dead,” he murmured.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “I should’ve saved him,” he groaned. “Standing right next to him.”

  “You did all you could.”

  “No, not enough. Just like Mikala. I’m going to lose her, too.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Not able to protect her. Dreams.”

  “Dreams?”

  “Covered in blood. Reaching for me. Can’t save her. Oh, God, I want to save her,” he said brokenly. “Love her,” he whispered before falling into a troubled sleep.

  Mikala looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. Did he really love her? If so, why couldn’t he tell her when he was lucid? She slipped off the bed and pulled her dressing robe about her, tying the belt. Mikala climbed back on the bed and brought her knees up. She propped her chin on them as she watched over Gabe. He continued to remain unsettled, continually calling out Kala’s name. He apologized over and over for not saving her, for not getting to her sooner. She would try to soothe him and it would work for a little while, and then the cycle would begin again.

  Kala walked across the room and saw the discarded letter on the dressing table, exactly where she had left it. She picked it up and read through it once more. Pacing the room, she considered her options as she stuffed the letter in her pocket. She saw only one left available to her that would protect those that she loved. If God allowed Gabe to beat the fever, she would leave. She would not risk putting anyone else in danger. Knowing he lived, even if they were separated, was more important to her than being with him.

  On the fourth day of the fever, Kala noticed a change. His breath came out slow and even and no sweat beaded his brow. She reached out with a shaky hand and laid the back of it against his cheek. He felt cool to the touch. Mikala felt the bristle that covered his lean cheek turn into her hand and nuzzle her.

  “Sweetheart,” she heard a faint whisper, and his eyes met hers before they drowsily closed once more. Kala started to awaken Judith in her bedroom, but decided to let her sleep. Instead she went to her empty bedroom and began to pack. She only packed the basic things she would need and then reached deep under her mattress. Her hand came out clasping a purse full of coins and pound notes. The money had been pin money saved from both Derek and Gabe. Perhaps it was wrong to use his own money to leave him, but the ship had not yet returned from the islands. She also took a handful of jewelry that would not be missed. Once packed, she looked back in on her sleeping husband. He remained cool to the touch and slept peacefully.

  “I love you, so much,” she whispered as a lone tear fell. She felt as if she had cried more since marrying Gabe than she had her entire life. It felt as if her heart were being ripped from her body.

  “Love you, too” he whispered in his sleep.

  She choked back a sob, wishing he could tell her those words when awake and healthy. She had to leave to keep him safe. I would die if I lost him, she thought sadly, her heart breaking. At least this way I know he is not in harm’s way.

  Kala went back through her door and gently closed it. She made her way down the servant’s stairs and slipped down the hall. A snuffling sound startled her and she saw Mack asleep in her husband’s study. She would love to be present to see how Gabe reacted, when lucid, to all his half-brother had done for him. Judith had certainly welcomed her grandson with open arms. Would Gabe do the same? Mikala traveled down the hallway and slipped outside without being seen and disappeared down the sidewalk appearing like any other housemaid going home for a visit.

  ***

  Riding in the mail coach had been a horror. There were too many unclean bodies pressed in one small space. The only consolation had been the longer she stayed on it, the fewer people there were to share the space. Most of the people believed her to be going the wrong way, wishing aloud they were going to London. Before leaving London, she had stopped to visit with her solicitor. The little cottage he had purchased on her behalf should be ready. For some reason she had not stopped the purchase of it, and now felt glad for it.

  The mail coach came to a stop at the village of Cheddar and she disembarked. She stretched, easing her sore and aching muscles while the driver tossed down her baggage. Kala picked up her small cases and let the brisk, cool breeze revive her. She knew that it would take a good half-day of walking before she reached her new home and darkness had begun to descend. Looking around she found an inn that looked to be decent. Mikala took a room under the name of Mrs. Smith. After eating a hearty meal, she trudged the stairs to her room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

  The next morning she awoke to a queasy stomach and asked for toast and tea. It looked as if she might truly be carrying a child. The thought still scared her. Especially now that she had struck out on her own. Too much still remained unfinished for her and Gabriel to bring a child safely into the world. Pushing the thought far from her mind, she looked out the window, surveying the scene below.

  People moved to and fro, going about their daily routines. The sun shone brightly today and it looked as if it might even be somewhat warm. No one looked remotely familiar to her, thank goodness. Kala pulled a piece of paper from her reticule and read the directions the solicitor had quickly written down. She picked up her bags and walked down the stairs.

  “Pardon me,” she asked the innkeeper.

  “Aye, missus?”

  “Is there some place where I can hire someone to take me to a cottage?”

  “Aye, missus. Me boy would be glad to do it. If you don’t mind riding in the wagon.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “He be outside. Name’s John. Just tell him where ye want to go.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Mikala walked outside, found John and told him where she would like to go. She waited while he hitched the wagon to two sturdy horses. In less tha
n ten minutes, Mikala left the small village behind.

  “How far is Glastonbury Tor from here?” Mikala asked John excitedly.

  “About a half day’s drive from town. Less from your cottage.”

  “They say it is where Arthur is buried.”

  “Aye,” the boy sounded unimpressed.

  They rode alongside a large gorge for quite a while before turning. She promised herself she would come back and explore it. They followed a winding path through a copse of trees before finally seeing the lane that would lead her to her new home. A sliver of chimney smoke waved at her welcomingly. John stopped the wagon and helped her down.

  “Is this it?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Here,” she placed a coin in his hand. “Thank you for your trouble.” John handed her the bag and climbed back into the wagon as she walked up the path. She started as a boy about eight years of age darted in front of her, running into her.

  “Goodness,” she exclaimed as she dropped her bag and put her hand to her chest. “Where did you come from?”

  “Didn’t mean ta startle ya, miss. Me and me brother were playin’ in the trees.”

  “Do you live around here?” His blonde hair hung disheveled over his bright blue eyes. Despite all that, he had the promise of being a right handsome lad.

  “Yes ma’am. Just through that copse of trees and over the small hill. Me mum is tidying up the cottage for the new owner. Mum says she’s a right fine lady who wants her privacy.”

  “So your mum is Mrs. Fisher?”

  “Aye, I’m Tommy. Who’re you?”

  “I’m Mrs. Smith,” Kala said. She held her hand out to the lad. He returned her handshake with a nice firm grip. “I’m the lady who bought the cottage.”

  “Me mum is the best cook around. You won’t want to eat anything else once you’ve tasted her food.”

  “Tommy, leave that poor woman alone.”

  “Mum, this is the new lady, Mrs. Smith.”