Gerald tucked his hand under the sheet. The last thing he needed was for Ruby to offer to change the bandages. The charade had gone on long enough. He needed to either tell her the truth or assure she’d never ask the question. A coughing fit rattled his chest, tearing upward through his raw throat. Gerald turned and covered his mouth with his good hand.
Robert stood at the end of the bed, deep creases forming on either side of his mouth.
Gerald swallowed, with effort. “Pseudomembrane?”
His friend nodded. “And spreading. You’re going to need more antitoxin. It’s a severe case. We need to arrest the progress before you end up with heart damage.”
“No.”
Ruby perched on the edge of the mattress, the springs squeaking. “Don’t argue with your doctor.” She slid a cool hand along his bare arm. “But you’ll get your way for now. We don’t have any doses to spare.”
Gerald turned his face away, her touch sending prickles through his body. He closed his eyes, letting the malaise carry him away. The deadly words waited in the back of his throat, like the infection ripping through his system. I don’t love you. Go home.
Quiet footsteps sounded as Robert moved around to the side of the bed. “I’m going to head over to County and see what they have on hand. I can’t believe there’s none left in the city.”
Ruby stood, the pressure easing on the bed. “Thank you, Robert.”
“Be sure to—” Gerald attempted to clear his throat, but the blockage remained. Pretty soon he’d have no voice. “Be sure to check on Mr. Guinness.”
Robert nodded. “I’ll swing by on my way. Get some rest. The only patient I want you worrying about today is you.”
“Who’s worried?” Gerald coughed several more times, pressing a handkerchief against his lips.
Robert smiled. “Not me.” Shadows around his eyes spoke otherwise. He pressed a hand to his sister’s shoulder before he left the room.
Gerald shifted in the bed, tensing as Ruby straightened the covers. “You don’t need to hover. It doesn’t help.”
She pulled her hands back and reached for the book on his bedside table. “I could read to you, if you like.”
Gerald rolled to his side and tugged the quilt to his chin. Perhaps she’d get the idea if he didn’t bother to answer. The room grew quiet, except for the sound of the rocking chair being drawn up. Lord, I’m not ready to do this yet.
Head down, she spread the white dress across her lap and took up a needle.
Gerald propped an arm under his cheek and watched until his weary eyes glazed over. The serenity of her presence lulled him to a fitful sleep, shadows chasing him through his dreams. By the time his lids eased open the light had dimmed.
Ruby remained fixed in the chair. Her attention flitted up from her work. “You’re awake.”
He grunted, not trusting his crusty voice to cooperate. He glanced toward the windows, assessing the angle of the sun to determine how long he’d slept. The dog lay curled against his leg, like a hot water bottle. Gerald frowned. How did it get up there?
“Can I get you anything? Water? Soup?” Ruby bundled up the dress and set it on the rug, scooting to the edge of the seat.
“No.” Gerald coughed out the word, lifting a hand to his throat. His neck felt foreign to his hand, swollen. He shifted, a jab of pain lancing through his arm and chest.
Ruby jumped forward. “What’s wrong? Why did you make that face?”
The pulsing ache settled between his ribs. “No-nothing.” He pressed his wrist against his chest.
Ruby sat down on the edge of the mattress, sending a second twinge down his arm. “I don’t like your color.”
“Off the bed.” His words came out in a wheezing gasp.
She hopped up, her hands fluttering about her middle. “Let me get you some water.”
Anything to have her out of his way for a moment. Gerald nodded, eyes watering, as she sprinted from the room. The pain softened, allowing his lungs to pull in a decent breath. He pressed his head back against the pillow, fingers of cold creeping along his arms.
Scurrying footsteps sounded from the doorway. Ruby appeared at his side, a glass clutched in her hand, droplets of water clinging to the outside. “Can I help you sit up?”
“No, just put it down.”
“Gerald you need—”
“Put it down.”
She set the cup on the table with a sigh. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
Get it over with quickly. Like removing a bandage. Gerald pushed up on his elbows. Ruby moved to help, but a quick glare sent her into reverse. Gerald shimmied up to a near-sitting position, unable to ignore the hollow pain in the center of his chest.
Ruby pulled the chair closer and sat. “Better?”
He managed a nod, lie that it was.
She lifted the dress from the basket and spread it on her lap. “I’m almost finished. I think Abby will be pleased.” She ran her finger along the leaf designs decorating the skirt. “I’ve grown quite fond of your cousin. My future sister.” Her lashes fluttered as she glanced up at him. “I guess it almost makes us family, so to speak.”
His mouth dried as he gazed at Ruby, her beautiful face showing signs of strain from the past two days. Imagine what the next few months could bring. He reached for the glass, his hand trembling.
She twisted her fingers in the glossy fabric. Probably the effort of not assisting him.
Gerald took a sip, the liquid doing little to soothe the burning in his throat and chest. He lowered the glass to the table without causing a spill. “I need to . . . to tell you something.”
She drew the fabric tight against her lap and slid forward, the rocker tipping with her motion.
He lowered his gaze, the brilliance of her eyes tempting him to surrender the battle before it had begun. “I’ve been thinking.” Gerald pressed his arm harder against his chest, as if it could obliterate the gnawing ache. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have . . .” He dared a glance in her direction, but pulled his attention away in the next beat. “We’re not right together.”
Ruby froze, half off the chair. Her face faded to an ashen color. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t love you.” The words tore at his throat. “I won’t marry you.”
Ruby clutched the silk to her stomach. “This is the fever talking.”
What could he say to make her believe? “I need to be truthful, in case I don’t recover.” He coughed into the handkerchief, determined to finish the relationship before his resolve wavered. “I thought with you being married before, and with us living in the same household, I might be able to convince you to . . .” His throat closed, refusing to cooperate. He choked the words out. “. . . reward my hospitality. Why do you think I pulled you in my room the other night?”
The wedding dress rippled to the floor in a glossy heap. “Why—why are you saying this?”
“I won’t die with it on my conscience.”
She shook her head slowly, lips parted. “I don’t believe you.”
The room spun. Finish it. “Are you really so naïve?”
A long moment passed before a strangled sound emanated from Ruby’s throat. She pushed to her feet, swaying as she swiped a knuckle under one eye. “You—you’re . . .” Her fingers curled into fists. Her shoe slid on the discarded garment as she fled the room.
Gerald closed his eyes as the door slammed. He pulled his shoulders inward, trying to ease the clawing ache in his ribs.
* * *
Ruby pounded down the narrow stairs and dashed through the back door, gulping back sobs. The grape arbor beckoned like the arms of an old friend. She sank down on the wet bench, her thoughts tangling like so many unraveling stitches. I knew it. Too good to be true. Ruby dropped her head into her hands, her stomach quivering. How could this have happened? How could she have let herself be deceived?
Ruby lifted her head, staring up through the dripping vines to the gray sky. Hot tears burned h
er eyes. “Can I go home now, God?”
“Ruby?” Mae’s voice echoed in the distance. “Are you out there?”
Ruby swiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Y-yes.” She stood, peering toward the house.
Mae stood in the doorway, one foot on the back step. “Goodness, I’ve been looking all over for you. Robert is on the telephone. He says it’s urgent.”
A drip from the vines caught the back of Ruby’s neck. She gathered her skirt and hurried Mae’s direction.
Mae retreated inside, twin creases forming between her eyes as she scanned Ruby’s appearance. “Why ever were you outside in the rain? Don’t we have enough sickness at present?”
At least Gerald’s mother would disregard any tears as stray raindrops. She dabbed a handkerchief at the tip of her nose and sniffled. “Robert’s on the line?”
“Oh, yes.” Mae waved her hand toward the study. “He’s phoning from the hospital, I believe.”
Ruby shivered, the damp soaking through her shirtwaist and chilling her skin. She strode through the house until she reached the study, grasped the receiver, and pressed it to her ear. She lowered her damp backside into the seat, not caring whether she ruined Gerald’s fine chair. “Robert? Are you still there?”
The telephone crackled to life. “Ruby, there you are. I need a favor.”
She glanced around the study, her woolen cloak still resting on the side of the divan where she’d nursed Gerald the night before. A lump rose in her throat. “What is it?”
“I’m over at County Hospital. They only had two doses of antitoxin left. I’m going to deliver them to the camp right away. But we won’t have any left for Gerald. How is he?”
Ruby pushed a hand up through the strands of hair, the curls loosening each time she touched them. How was he? A cad. A scoundrel. Her throat tightened as new tears sprang to her eyes. Think like a nurse. How is the patient? She straightened her shoulders and took a mental assessment. “Not improved, I fear. He’s feverish, weak. His cough has worsened, I believe. Breathing is labored.”
“Listen, Ruby,” Robert’s voice lowered. “Is he complaining of any chest pain?”
“No.” She frowned. Had he? “But he clutched his chest oddly at one point. And I thought his color was off.”
“Off how?”
She bit her lip. “He seemed a little gray, almost. I’m sorry, it’s not a clinical description.”
“No, it’s what I feared. If we don’t get this in hand, the toxins will travel his bloodstream and damage his heart.”
Ruby closed her eyes.
“Ruby, are you still there?” Robert’s voice sounded tinny and distant.
She swallowed. “Yes. What do I do? Can you come?”
“I need to go to the camp first.” The line crackled as Robert paused. “Doctor Jones from County said he sent three doses over to Lane yesterday. Why don’t you go over and see if they still have any? Ask for Dr. Lawrence.”
She glanced over at the clock. The cable car would be passing as they spoke. She’d never catch it. “It might take me a while to get there and back.”
The telephone crackled. “Take Gerald’s car.”
Her stomach twisted. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You must.”
“Robert,” her voice tightened. “I can’t drive—no, I won’t drive. I’ll run, I’ll catch the cable car . . .”
“If Gerald’s showing signs of cardiac involvement, Ruby, there isn’t time. You need to go now. I’ll meet you at home as soon as I can get away.” The line went dead.
Ruby clutched the receiver in her clammy palm. She settled the receiver onto the hook with trembling fingers. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. She glanced up at the ceiling, imagining Gerald clinging to life, waiting for the lifesaving medicine.
Had he clutched at his chest, or had she just imagined it? His fever wasn’t raging out of control. He’d already had the infection as a child. Surely, it couldn’t have traveled to his heart in a few hours. A tremor raced through her shoulders. And if it had?
“Why do you think I pulled you into my room the other night?”
It hadn’t taken much pulling. She’d practically thrown herself into his arms. Prickly heat crawled up her neck. Did this man deserve her care?
Yes. Her heart whispered the word before her brain had a chance to consider the question. She pushed up from the chair and walked to the glass-fronted cabinet. Unlatching the door, she retrieved the stethoscope. Ruby’s eyes blurred. She strode from the study and scaled the stairs. Pushing open the door to his room, Ruby glanced inside.
Gerald lay on his side, brows pulled low over closed eyes, forearm braced against his chest, the bandaged hand nestled under his chin.
Otto lifted his head, as if keeping watch, and thumped his tail against the mattress.
Ruby bit her lip, praying the man was sound asleep. She rubbed the cold metal on her cheek to warm it as she crept forward, falling to her knees beside the bed.
He didn’t move.
She grasped Gerald’s wrist and slid it out of the way. “Are you really so naïve?” His words echoed in her mind.
He stirred, the lines on his brow deepening, but his eyes remained closed.
Ruby situated the earpieces. Her fingers trembled as she maneuvered the chest piece inside the yoke of Gerald’s shirt and pressed the diaphragm to his skin. Closing her eyes, she focused on the swishing sounds. She lowered her head, moving the bell to the left to improve the clarity. Was the heartbeat abnormal, or was Robert’s prediction coloring her observations? Ruby leaned closer, as if it would help the sound come clear. An extra swish sent a tremor through her fingertips. Not right. It’s not right.
She opened her eyes to see Gerald gazing back at her. “Problem?” His voice cracked. He caught her hand as she withdrew it from his chest. “What were you doing?”
“I—nothing. Everything’s fine.” She put on her best nursing face as she pulled her fingers free. “Just checking.” She slid the blanket back up to his shoulder and gave him a gentle pat. “Go back to sleep.”
“Why . . .” He struggled to form the word, but with a grunt, he pulled his wrist back to his chest and closed his mouth.
“I’m your nurse, remember? That’s enough.”
* * *
Gerald blew a long exhale through his lips as the door clicked shut. Ruby might be harder to run off than he’d estimated. He wrenched his eyes shut as another wave of pain arrived. Much more of that and it might be out of his hands. He considered calling her back.
Dying with a clear conscience? Hardly.
Ruby had patted him like a cosseted child. At least she treated him as a nurse, not as a woman in love. Gerald rolled over in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Not good enough. He needed to drive her away completely. I won’t allow her to stay and watch me die—whether from diphtheria or cancer.
Gerald’s gaze wandered the cracks in the ceiling left from the April earthquake. He’d thought he’d come close to understanding God’s motives behind everything that had happened over the past year, but now he was as lost as ever. God, You need to help me, here. Obviously, You don’t want us together. But I beg of You—draw her close to Your side.
* * *
Ruby climbed into the automobile’s seat, her heart beating out a bizarre rhythm in her chest, like the feet of the Chinese dragon dancers she’d seen as a girl. She pulled Gerald’s driving gloves over her fingers, the leather sticking to her damp palms. “I can do this.”
She reached for the wheel, her mind suddenly going blank. She closed her eyes and went back through her memories. “Switch. Lever. Crank.” Her eyes fluttered open, and she scanned the controls. She switched on the ignition and pushed the lever into place. Everything looked ready. Everything except her instructor.
Ruby clambered back out of the seat and hurried to the crank. Eyeing the handle, she set her jaw and gave the lever a timid turn. The cold metal slipped from her grip before it went a quarter turn. Didn�
��t Gerald give some warning about it jerking back? She steeled her nerves. This had to be done. Ruby grasped the crank with both hands and gave it a hard yank.
The motor coughed twice and then caught, sputtering and growling to a nice cadence. Ruby patted the hood. “Thank you.” She paused, her hand still on the vibrating hood, and glanced upward. “Or thank You. Whichever.”
Ruby hoisted herself back into the seat, taking a quick moment to adjust her hat. The straw boater bobbed on its single hatpin. With a groan, she yanked the pin and tossed the hat into the rear compartment. She’d also forgotten to retrieve her driving veil. On a day like today, who cared?
Ruby adjusted the controls, stepped on the reverse pedal, and eased the automobile out into the alley, the tires crunching over the loose stones. After a false start, she managed to shift the vehicle back to forward and roll toward the main street, her heart climbing further up her throat with every inch. She slowed to a stop at the end of the alley, peering across the main street as automobiles, delivery wagons, horses, and buggies rattled past in both directions. I can’t do this, God.
A man rode by astride a tall, black horse. The animal tossed its head, rolling its eyes and dancing sideways. Ruby’s stomach soured, a familiar metallic taste rising on her tongue.
She lowered her forehead to the wooden wheel, closing her eyes as the wood vibrated against her skull. Lord, everyone tells me You have a plan for me. I hope they’re right, because I can’t control this part. I need You.
Sweat trickled down her back, dampening her corset. She lifted her head and glanced both ways. Traffic slowed and Ruby fumbled for the pedals. The automobile lunged forward, bouncing into the street like a spirited colt let out into spring pasture. With a cry, she eased off the throttle and jammed her foot on the brake to avoid colliding with the back of a farm wagon. The driver turned and scowled before tossing his burning cigar down onto the road. He muttered some unintelligible words and slapped the traces along his horses’ backs.
Heart pounding, Ruby guided the auto along the rough cobblestones, keeping a large cushion between herself and the wagon, crawling along at a snail’s pace until he waved her around. Swallowing hard, she steered to the left and swerved wide around the slower vehicle, darting back in before another automobile approached in the opposite direction.
Beyond the Ashes Page 28
