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A Clockwork Christmas

Page 33

by JK Coi, PG Forte, Stacy Gail; Jenny Schwartz


  She lifted her arms out at her side, forcing him to look, but Jasper was done reacting to her appearance. That had been a mistake he wouldn’t repeat again. He understood her anger, but letting her see just how much he hurt for her wasn’t going to help either of them.

  “Don’t ask me to agree that you would have been better off dead, because it’s not going to happen,” he snapped, stubbornly taking a step forward.

  He’d never seen such an expression of disgust on Callie’s face as she glared at him. It made her look more of a stranger than any of the physical changes. “Get out.”

  He squared his shoulders. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I can force you out, don’t doubt it.” She held her artificial hand up and closed it into a tight fist. “Did you realize that the operations you agreed to would make me faster than you? Stronger than you? Do you know that I can see the sweat beading on your forehead right now with this new eye? That this hand could snap your neck in an instant? You wouldn’t even see me move. You wouldn’t have time to whisper a plea for your life.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do? Kill me? Or do you just want to make me hurt? Make me bleed?” He took another step. “Will it make you feel better to take from me what was taken from you?”

  “You bastard,” she hissed. “Do you think I don’t know that what happened to me was your fault?”

  “Yes, it was my fault.” His heart hammered. Could she somehow sense that too? “It was my fault you were left alone. My fault for not getting to you in time. My fault for lying to you about where I was and what I was doing. Those lies put you in danger, almost got you killed.”

  “I wasn’t even safe in my own home.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his hand through his hair roughly. “And nothing I say could ever express how much I regret it. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for my mistake.”

  “Mistake?” She choked out an angry, painful laugh. “Oh, is that all it was? A mistake?”

  He came around the bed. As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t give up. He knew she was waiting for him to do just that, digging into every chink in his determination until she found a way to push him out of her life for good.

  He dared take the final step toward her, reaching for her hand. “I should have told you what I was doing. I should have been there to protect you. I’m sorry. I—”

  She jerked away. “I told you to leave.”

  Everything in him roared that this was a fight he needed to win. He had to stand his ground if they were going to have a chance together. But this wasn’t a war, and his heart just couldn’t bear to see that look on her face.

  “Fine. I’m too tired to do this with you tonight.” He sighed, shoulders drooping. He felt battered and heartsick, like in those first days when he didn’t know if she was going to survive.

  Jasper understood. He’d seen this before in soldiers who’d been injured and could no longer serve. They felt as if their value had been stripped along with the blood and pain they’d given for their country, and often acted out in frustrated anger, believing it was much better to drive everyone away than suffer the pitying looks of friends and family who knew how useless they had become.

  He also understood that he should have fought harder to stay during Callie’s recovery, or at least returned sooner. His absence wasn’t the sole reason for this anger and distance between them…but it certainly hadn’t helped. And now his battle back to her was that much harder. “I’ll be in the next room,” he reminded her. “I’m not going to leave you again.”

  She sneered, opening her mouth to disabuse him of that notion, but the sound of feet clomping down the hall at a run distracted both of them and they moved together to the door. Jasper opened it to find Murphy shrugging on a jacket as he made his way to the stairs. “What’s going on?”

  Murphy stopped, his gaze falling first to Callie. He seemed to examine her too carefully, but then Jasper remembered Murphy hadn’t seen Callie since their arrival.

  The former lieutenant snapped his attention back to Jasper quickly, as if realizing that he’d been staring. “Apparently the doc’s got a new patient,” he said. “I’m on my way to see if they need a hand getting the kid into a room. He’s not exactly cooperating.”

  “A kid?”

  He nodded and slid another glance at Callie. “Lost both his legs in a suicide mission for General Black.”

  The bastard’s recruiting children to do his dirty work now?

  While the war had officially ended on a shaky truce three years ago, underground plots by both French and British forces alike continued to claim casualties. Jasper had issues with the notorious General Black’s methods of warmongering in particular.

  A blistering yell and the sound of something crashing to the floor echoed to them from the foyer and Murphy hurried down the stairs.

  Jasper worried how this was affecting Callie, but when he turned back to her she shut the door in his face. He stood looking at the dark oak panels for a long moment before deciding they’d both had enough for one night. Instead, he followed Murphy downstairs to see if the doctor needed more assistance with the boy.

  Callie leaned against the door and closed her eyes. She had to concentrate on her breathing, on the tight breaths that pulled at her throat until it ached.

  In and out. In and out.

  This up and down between uncertainty and confusion made her sick to her stomach, like the one time she’d gone up in an airship with Jasper and had been so afraid of the sudden lifts and dips that threatened to toss her right into the sea.

  She’d been doing just fine until he arrived. All right, maybe that wasn’t quite the truth. Anger and bitterness still swirled inside her, but Callie believed she’d come to terms with a lot. She hated that the sound of his boots on the stair could turn it all around so quickly, and just like that she was twisted up with even more impossible emotions.

  She clenched her fist open and closed. The strength coursing through her body continued to terrify her. She was made up of more than flesh and bone, and more than metal and gears. Something else lived inside her now. Something that fed from her. It had crawled into every deep, shadowy corner where the fear and pain still lurked, and changed her almost as much as the horror which had necessitated it in the first place.

  Another pained shout rose from the main level. Callie didn’t want to hear the suffering of the poor boy, but couldn’t shut him out. She paced the confines of her room, to the window and then the fire and back, wincing as every thudding step sounded louder and louder, at least to her ears.

  She turned to the door for the fifth time and spun away again. Why the sudden urge to venture downstairs? It wasn’t as if she wanted to know what was going on beyond this room. That would involve caring about something, feeling part of a world that had continued on and left her bleeding and broken in its dust. She hadn’t felt that way since waking up and realizing she hadn’t died back in that dark, bloody cottage.

  Even returning to the window didn’t ease her agitation. The simplicity of the soft, pure flakes covering the rooftops in white couldn’t soothe her, not tonight. Not since he’d arrived.

  When she had learned Jasper was on his way, she hadn’t thought she would care. Her heart was as still and frozen as the winter landscape outside this clinic, and that’s just the way she’d wanted it to stay. But it was as if her soul could track his progress, and the closer he’d gotten the more it seemed life was returning to her, and with it a windstorm of devastating emotions that threatened to undo all of the equilibrium she’d fought so hard for. As soon as he had come through the door, her skin tingled and her heartbeat quickened, sending the blood—and whatever else thrived in it now—rushing through her.

  She was still trying to deny the way he made her feel. For the good of everyone, she had to.

  The next morning, Callie ignored the insistent rapping at her door. She had no doubt Jasper stood on the other side of it. The nurses and Mrs. Campbell knew better, they�
�d long ago given up trying to lure her downstairs. And Helmholtz only came to see her once a week now that he considered her rehabilitation complete. As she no longer required fixing, his interest had quickly faded, and he spent most of his time with his research, conducted in a laboratory down in the cellar at all hours of the day.

  But now he had a new patient for his experimentations. She didn’t like to imagine what fresh opportunities the boy would provide to whet the good doctor’s rather occult curiosities.

  The knocking ceased, but only because the door was being pushed open.

  Without turning around, she said, “Am I to no longer have any privacy, then?”

  “Good morning, Callie. You look lovely.”

  She huffed, unimpressed, although he probably considered anything other than her nightdress to be an improvement.

  Callie wasn’t even certain what had possessed her to rise and dress this morning, as if it was still part of her daily routine, but the idea of facing Jasper again was difficult enough without having to do it in softly flowing cotton. So she wore a pair of military breeches and high black boots with a crisp shirt and vest. The breeches concealed her legs without hampering her movement, and the boots had been custom made with thick rubber soles to keep her steady.

  While she couldn’t exactly feel the ground beneath her feet, she’d learned to be aware of it, and didn’t necessarily need the boots anymore, but they would help if she found herself walking on potentially slippery surfaces like staircases or ice-covered cobblestones.

  She tugged at her vest, refusing to look at Jasper even though the fresh scent he’d brought into the room drew her. He’d been outside already…not that she should be surprised. Everything else had changed so drastically, but Jasper would never really change.

  The man never could sit still longer than it took to decide on his next step.

  When she refused to acknowledge his presence, he came closer. She was still surprised every time he did that. He hadn’t been able to hide his shock and horror when he’d taken that first good look at her, even though he’d covered it up quickly and pretended it didn’t affect him.

  She glanced at him when he reached into his hip pocket. She knew what he held before he pulled it out, but still held her breath when he reached for her hand and laid the watch in her open palm.

  Callie looked down at the tarnished steel pocketwatch as her throat tightened. It was old and cheap, and the name that had been engraved on the back was long gone. She flicked it open almost against her will and sighed at the tiny, faded daguerreotype of a young ballerina that had been tucked inside.

  Her mother was that ballerina, and the watch had once belonged to Callie’s father. Why was Jasper giving this to her? And why did she feel panic at the thought that it was because he had given up and would be leaving again? Isn’t that what she wanted?

  “I was going to save this for Christmas, but…”

  “It was a gift.”

  “I think you should have it back.” He looked into her face, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Maybe because her own thoughts were too loud.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You told me when you gave it to me on the day of our wedding that it had belonged to the bravest, most honorable man you’d ever known, and that the photograph inside represented the greatest love you’d ever seen. You said you believed I was just as brave and good, and that one day our love would grow to be even greater than what your parents had shared.”

  “But why—”

  “Because you are the bravest person I have ever known, Callie, and I believe that our love will grow to be greater than anything the world has ever seen.” He paused. “Perhaps one day you will decide to give this gift back to me, but for now it belongs to you again.”

  She tried to shrug off his gesture and his words, but couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, she tucked the watch into the pocket of her vest and turned away before he could see the most recent chink he had put in her armor. The glacier of protection that had kept her blessedly frozen was thawing quickly. Since Jasper’s arrival, he had worked unceasingly to undermine her hard-fought detachment and resolutions with boundless understanding, and the promise of his undying love.

  She almost believed him, and that’s what frightened her the most.

  He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we go for a ride this morning,” he suggested, as if that’s what they did every morning. And in another life they had. But now…

  “I’ve already checked with the stables, and we can have Mrs. Campbell’s sled for the day if there’s anywhere specific you’d like to go. Perhaps out to Phillip’s Park for a turn.”

  At that she glanced back at him. “Does it look like I want to go anywhere? With you?”

  Her denial sounded petulant even to her own ears, and he responded with a grin that reminded her of the way things used to be between them. Once, her life had been full of Jasper’s teasing smiles and playful antics. He had liked to sneak into her studio and watch her dance, but soon enough he would interrupt, taking her into his arms to dance with him, and then it was never long before they ended up naked on the polished floors in front of the long windows with the afternoon sun streaming down on them.

  “That hurts,” he said with mock severity. “Besides, if you come outside with me, just think of all the snowballs you could hurl at my head.”

  She couldn’t trust the affection in his expression. “Why are you doing this?”

  The laughter fell out of his eyes. “What do you want me to do? This is our chance, Callie. This is the only chance we’ll have to pick up the pieces and try again. If we let this break us they will have won, don’t you see that?”

  “You think it’s just that easy? We’ll apologize and throw a couple of snowballs—”

  “Of course not. Good God, nothing has ever been harder than this, but the healing has to start somewhere. I won’t accept failure. I can’t. We’re a family, for better or for worse, remember?”

  “Those vows weren’t meant to encompass such trials as the ones we’ve encountered. They weren’t meant to bind you to…” she looked down at herself, “…this.”

  “Jesus Christ, just stop it. You’re beautiful,” he insisted. “You’ve always been beautiful, and nothing could ever change that.”

  “For a military spy, you’re such a horrible liar.”

  “I’m a natural-born liar, and you know it better than anyone. But not with you.”

  “And why not? It’s obviously worked for you before. Just because you got caught that one time, doesn’t mean I won’t be gullible enough to believe your falsehoods again.”

  “No, I won’t lie to you ever again,” he insisted. She thought he would apologize again, but he only walked to the door. “If you’re not ready in twenty minutes, I’m going to come back up here and carry you outside.”

  She started to laugh. “You can try.”

  “You don’t think I will?”

  “Perhaps.” She glared at him. “But you may require the doctor’s expertise in limb replacement for yourself if you do.”

  “Then be downstairs, ready to spend the day with me.”

  He was gone before she could refuse him again, leaving her feeling pestered and angry, without an outlet.

  Snowballs? A small smile pulled the corners of her mouth up against her will. She shouldn’t even consider it, shouldn’t give him hope.

  In the end, though, Callie met him in the foyer. Thirty-three minutes later.

  She’d donned a pair of leather gloves and a calf-length, silk-lined coat of soft black leather. It had been donated by Mrs. Campbell, who seemed to agree that Callie’s thin, flowing wraps, meant to be worn with the bustled gowns and day dresses from her previous life, didn’t quite fit with the breeches and boots she insisted on wearing now.

  Mrs. Campbell hadn’t mentioned anything about the coat’s previous owner, but Callie assumed a former patient had either forgotten it, or left it behind for…other reasons. Ei
ther way, she didn’t care where it came from. In fact, this was the first time she’d worn it. The leather was heavy over her shoulders, the sleeves hanging a little long. Still, she thought she might actually like it. Silly, but it gave her the same feeling of shelter she got from curling up in the partially enclosed window seat in her room.

  She finally looked at Jasper. He had dressed for the weather in a heavy wool greatcoat that she’d never seen before. He slapped thick riding gloves on his thigh and watched her. She knew he’d taken careful note of her hesitant steps down each stair, but he hadn’t rushed over with some ridiculous offer to help. Oddly enough, they seemed to have reached a kind of non-verbal truce, and Callie wasn’t eager to have it destroyed with more arguing just yet.

  “Are you ready, then?” He wasn’t smiling, but she could see in his eyes that he was pleased with her, and that only made her more nervous. Like the first performance of a new show, she was venturing onstage for the first time. Everyone would be watching, waiting for her to fall, and she could already see their pitying faces when it happened. It made her want to turn and retreat back to her room.

  She took an involuntary step backward, but he rushed forward and reached for her. She froze and looked down at their clasped hands, wondering why she didn’t just tear free of him.

  “You can do this,” he said in a low voice.

  She jerked her head up, her vulnerability doubling at the reminder that he’d always been able to read her too easily. She glanced over his shoulder, to the butler/guard standing quietly by the front door, and wondered what he thought of the crazy lady who was afraid to go outside. “Am I so transparent?”

  “Only to me. Only because I know you so well.”

  She lifted a brow. “You think so?”

  “Yes.” He said it as a promise and tugged her hand, forcing her to come closer. She could have resisted but she didn’t. Instead, she found herself looking into his deep blue eyes, searching for the truth. But those eyes seemed different, the man behind them was different. The way he saw her had to be different too.

 

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