The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2)

by Gordon, Rose

“How do you feel?”

  A soft groan was her only response.

  “It’s time for more medicine.”

  She grunted.

  Chuckling at her response, he said, “I’m sorry, but it’ll make you feel better.”

  She opened one eye a fraction. “Jack?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “It’s cold.” Her voice barely a whisper

  He put his hand on her forehead and swallowed. “No. You’re not cold, sweetheart. Your skin is very hot.” Reluctant to remove his hand from her, he stroked his knuckles across her cheek. “How does your stomach feel?”

  “Empty.”

  He smiled. “Good. Then the medicine worked. Do you feel like eating?”

  A groan was her only response.

  “Can you try?”

  She groaned again.

  “All right, I won’t force you.” He stood and adjusted her covers for her again. “I’ll be right back.”

  Accepting her slight nod as understanding, he left.

  Water. She needed water. He filled the pitcher, poured her a glass of water, then uncorked the vial of medicine he’d gotten from Charles and poured it into her water. “Here, you need to drink.”

  She sat up, took the cup from him with trembling fingers and took a drink. She handed the cup back and lay back down. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured, pouring water into the basin. He then took the cleanest handkerchief he had in his drawer, folded it and dipped it into the basin. Once it was saturated, he pulled it out and wrung out some of the extra water.

  “This will be cold,” he whispered, bringing the wet, folded cloth to her forehead.

  Her body jerked, and then she sighed.

  A brief surge of elation shot through him. He’d finally done something right where she was concerned. Not wanting to dwell on it too long and make another mistake, he left her to rest and spent the rest of his lunchtime putting their room to rights.

  The afternoon dragged by slower than a caravan of ten thousand people crossing the desert. Or so it seemed.

  “Ella,” he whispered again, coming into their room after he’d gotten off work.

  “Hmmm,” she said on a groan.

  He allowed himself a small smile. She was more vocal than the last time he’d come to see her. That was good, wasn’t it?

  “Are you hungry? I brought you some broth from the kitchen?”

  She shook her head with wild abandon. “Nooooo.”

  “Are you thirsty, then?”

  She didn’t say anything but nodded with the same wild abandon.

  Shaking his head at her, he walked over to the water pitcher and poured some into a tin cup that was resting on the table. Charles had said the medicine might loosen her up a bit and make her seem a little silly. He didn’t realize how much, though. “Let me help you up,” he murmured.

  ***

  Ella sighed when one of Jack’s large, capable hands slid under her and urged her up. His other hand held a pillow. His pillow. She knew this because it was flatter than hers from the weight of his heavy head. Besides, it smelled like him. It smelled of work and sweat and trees and bushes. Man. It smelled like a man.

  Jack shoved that pillow on top of hers. Now she had two!

  She tried to lean back, but Jack stopped her. “Not yet. Sit up and drink first.”

  She grinned at him. She liked drinks. They were very...tasty. Cool and soothing in summer. Warm and comforting in the winter. Drinks were good.

  She reached her hand out toward the tin cup he now had in his hand, but he wouldn’t give it to her.

  What was he going to do, help her drink it?

  She giggled at the thought. A big, tall, broad man like him helping her drink!

  “Slow and easy,” he said, extending the cup toward her.

  Instinctively, she lifted her hands to try to take it from him again and hit the bottom, splashing water all over his hand and the bed covers. “Ooooops!”

  He set the cup down on the table and removed the wet blanket from on top of her, murmuring something about her not needing it anyway, then poured more water into the cup.

  “This time, will you let me help you?” he asked, his voice so soft and tranquil.

  All she could do was nod and allow him to bring the cup to her lips.

  She brought her hands up to hold the cup but ended up covering his hand instead. That was all right. It was also all right that his free hand was now behind her head, helping her tip it back ever-so-slightly.

  What had she done to deserve this treatment, she wondered, looking into his warm brown eyes. He was rather dashing. And strong. Oh, and handsome. Rugged.

  He removed the cup and pulled away, giving her a chill as he left.

  “Your gown,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “It’s very pretty, isn’t it?” She ran her hands down the front of it, straightening it here and there as she went. She had no idea how it had gotten so mussed, but it needed to be perfect in the presence of this gentleman.

  He gave her a curious look. “Are you sure it’s comfortable?”

  “Oh very,” she said with a small giggle.

  “I could just help you undo a few of the buttons.”

  She batted at his hands as they reached for her. “Absolutely not! A lady must maintain her modesty!”

  The corner of this stranger’s mouth tipped up into the most handsome smile she’d ever seen. “As you wish.” He eased her from the sitting position she was in to lying back against a rather tall, masculine-smelling pillow. Strange, when had this magnificent stranger come into her room? And even stranger still, why did her pillow smell like the outdoors? She could ponder it later, she supposed. Right now, she was so very tired...

  ~Chapter Ten~

  Jack awoke to the terrible sensation of being kicked in the testicles.

  Grunting as nausea swirled in his gut, he removed the arm he’d laid across Ella’s midsection after joining her in bed and used his hand to push her knee as far away from his groin as possible.

  Just as he did, she hit him again. This time with her hand on the side of his face.

  He reached for her arm to keep her from swinging again. It was hot. Really hot. Hotter than skin should feel. She seemed to be doing better, if not a bit silly earlier tonight, so he’d assumed she was getting better. But now she was hotter than she was then. “Ella.”

  No answer.

  “Ella,” he said a little louder.

  No answer.

  He reached for her shoulder and shook her. “Ella, wake up.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her knee came at him again.

  He lifted his own knees to block the blow to his groin again and took a direct hit to the shins. He grimaced and got out of their bed in short order. He stumbled around the bed as best he could, considering the small amount of moonlight that was spilling in through the break in the curtains, then sat down on the thin space of mattress on the other side of her. “Ella, wake up. You’re dreaming. It’s time to wake up now.” He put his hand on her forehead, which felt even hotter than her arm had.

  She thrashed at him once more, then stopped.

  “Ella,” he tried again, attempting in vain to mask the panic he felt.

  Nothing about her form changed.

  Heedless to his bare chest and bare feet, he ran from the room and went next door. “Wes, open up!” he called, banging on the door. When Wes didn’t open the door fast enough, he delivered three more swift bangs. “If you don’t open this door, I’ll—”

  “What is it?” Wes snapped, yanking the door open with one hand while he held a pillow over his bare waist with the other.

  “I need Allison.”

  “Excuse me, what did you just say?”

  Jack moved to look past Wes to where Allison lay in their bed, her hands clenching a sheet tightly against the top of her chest. He would have been just as embarrassed as the two of them about his intrusion while they were in such a state, but now wasn�
��t the time for modesty or embarrassment. Ella was in a bad way.

  “Something is wrong with Ella,” he said as calmly as he could. “She has some sort of a fever and it’s gotten really bad. I need someone to help me.”

  “Then go find the medic,” Wes said, annoyance filling his voice.

  Jack shook his head. “No. He’ll want to bleed her. I don’t want her bled. Allison, can you please come look at her?”

  She exchanged glances with her husband. “All right. But can you give me just a moment, please?”

  Jack nodded and Wes closed the door in his face.

  Unsure what else to do for his wife until Allison could come and help him, Jack went back into his room and wet another handkerchief.

  A moment later, Allison entered his room, wearing a simple yellow nightgown that peeked out through the middle of a large red robe. Relief he didn’t think he’d feel flooded him. He felt so helpless.

  Without a word to Jack, Allison walked over to where Ella lay on their bed.

  “Candles,” she said.

  Immediately, Jack went about lighting every single one he could find. When he finished, he turned back to see that all of the bedclothes, save a sheet, were discarded from the bed and lying in a heap on the floor and Allison was popping the buttons loose on the bodice of Ella’s dress.

  “She needs to be cooled down quickly,” Allison said.

  Jack nodded. He’d assumed so but hadn’t wanted to push Ella into removing her clothes, as he thought necessary, only to have her get even more upset and make herself sicker.

  Just then, Wes came into the room. “Do you need any more help?”

  Jack was appreciative of his offer but shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Allison didn’t argue with his sending her husband away and continued loosening what she could from the front of Ella’s gown. “Can you lift her for me?”

  Jack was there and holding where she directed in less than a heartbeat. First, he bent her still, lifeless body forward into a sitting position, where he held her while Allison peeled Ella’s dress from her shoulders and down her arms. Jack moved his hands when needed to allow Allison room to keep moving Ella’s gown down.

  When her gown was down and settled about her waist, he lowered her back to the bed and without a word passing between him and Allison, it was he who removed Ella’s gown the rest of the way.

  “I’m sorry for waking you,” Jack said quietly, coming to stand by Allison, who was now wiping Ella’s face with cool, wet linen. “I should have done this myself. I didn’t because—” he cleared his throat as the entire room seemed to heat up another degree, or twenty— “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

  She offered him a smile. “You didn’t. Fevers often have to run their course.”

  “I don’t mean with her fever,” he said on a sigh, though they both knew she was just being nice. He could have prevented it from getting this bad had he insisted she take off some of her clothes and paid more attention to her. But that was the crux of it. Where Ella was concerned, he was at a total loss.

  As if sensing what he was really saying, Allison said, “Just follow your instincts, Jack. That’s all you can do.”

  “Everyone thinks I’ve made a mistake and that I keep making it worse...and I’m beginning to agree.”

  “Don’t.” She softened her voice. “Just give it time and follow your heart and you’ll do the right thing.”

  Follow your heart, that’s what all women said. He shook his head in mild disbelief.

  He lowered his lashes to look at his wife’s body without feeling as if he were about to be condemned for looking at her thus, and then he reached to take the rag from Allison. He dipped it into the basin with a quiet Ker Plunk, then ran it down Ella’s arms and around her neck.

  Allison’s small smile told him that she approved, even if Ella might not. Then she went to the end of the bed and reached for the top of Ella’s stockings.

  “I can get those,” he said. “You just go to bed.”

  “It’s all right.” She rolled one long silk stocking down and off, then reached for the other. “You just keep cooling her off. That way when you get down here, you don’t have to mess with them.”

  He swallowed the emotion rising in his throat and jerked his gaze from his wife’s bare leg and back to where he was sluicing water on the plane of her chest just above the top edge of her thin chemise.

  He swallowed again. The water he’d put on her had rolled down, making the top of her chemise translucent, clinging tightly to her well-formed breasts. He was a man, therefore, the sight of her pink-tipped breasts certainly caught—and held—his attention. At least for a moment, then shame and a tinge of embarrassment came over him when he remembered that they were not alone. He turned to reach for the bed sheet that Allison had saved and his eyes caught on another part of Ella.

  Her leg had a spot the size of a rounders ball that was enflamed and bright red. Inside the “ball” was a smaller, open wound. Around the edge, it had a puffy yellow-white layer. The center was gaping open and oozing with a thick, jagged black band encircling it. Whatever this was that was on the inside of Ella’s right calf was the most disgusting sight he’d ever seen and was emanating a smell so foul it could fell a man.

  His eyes met Allison’s, who’d just been examining the same thing.

  She lowered Ella’s leg. “I know you don’t want him involved, Jack, and I understand why. But this is something more than a simple fever. I have to go get him. I’m sorry.”

  Too shocked to say anything or even move, he stood there and watched her walk away. It was all he could do.

  ~Chapter Eleven~

  Jack wasn’t sure whether he should be angry or relieved when Allison came back with Wes in tow.

  He’d assumed she’d gone off to find old sawbones, for surely the infection in her leg was bad enough to warrant such a visit.

  Jack swallowed uncomfortably and reached for the sheet he’d forgotten about earlier. He pulled it over Ella to hide as much of her as he possibly could. It wasn’t that he thought Wes would desire her if he glimpsed her in such a state, but it was more for Ella’s pride and dignity. She might be unconscious, but when she came to, she’d still need her pride. And he wouldn’t entertain any other thought. She would come to. He was not going to lose her to a fever or an infection. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  Wordlessly, Allison led Wes around the side of the bed and carefully lifted Ella’s infected leg.

  Wes’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he reached to take Ella’s leg from Allison’s hold. Ignoring the troubled brown eyes of his wife, Wes examined Ella’s leg. He ran his finger around the outer edge, then moved it toward the center. “The flesh is rotting away,” he said flatly.

  Jack’s throat constricted so tight he had to fight to catch his breath. “Why?” he rasped between gasps.

  “Spider bite,” Wes said quietly, setting her leg back down.

  “That’s no spider bite,” Jack burst out. “I’ve had a few spider bites in my life, and I’m sure you have, too. They never do that.”

  “Special spider,” Wes said.

  Jack scowled. It would be a dead spider once Jack found it. “How do you know?”

  “Before you came here, we had a private who had a spot on his arm just like that.”

  “Had? As in past tense? As in, he’s no longer here?”

  “He’s here,” Wes said grimly, “just not on this side of the dirt.”

  Whatever air still left in Jack’s lungs suddenly evaporated and he was once again gasping for breath, his hand seeking Ella’s. He would not let her die.

  “What can we do for her?” Allison asked, her calm voice giving Jack hope.

  “Yes? What?” Jack barked.

  “She needs medicine for the infection before it gets worse or spreads.”

  Jack’s heart plummeted. Medicine was not an easy thing to obtain. Just like all of their other supplies, it took months to get here. Ella didn�
�t have months.

  Wes gave him a sharp look. “Jack, why don’t you go wake the medic and see if he has anything to cure this?”

  “You know as well as I do that he doesn’t. He hasn’t received a shipment of medicine in over a year. All he uses these days is boiled water. Or his saw,” he choked, grimacing. In the two years he’d been here, he’d witnessed the medic call for three surgical amputations. Of the two who allowed him to cut, both had died from infection. Jack didn’t doubt that the third man’s survival was only because he hadn’t let the man cut.

  Wes sighed and thrust his fingers into his brown hair. “Jack, I need to try to clean this out for her and it would be best if you weren’t here when I do it.”

  “I’m not leaving.” His tone so hard he almost jumped himself. “I’ll boil the water for you and I’ll even hold her still if she begins to wiggle around, but I’m not leaving her.”

  Jack thought Wes might argue with him again but was apparently too annoyed to do so, for all he did was mutter something and shrug.

  Jack squeezed Ella’s hand once more, and then despite the others in the room watching him, he kissed her brow and whispered a promise in her ear. One he had every intention of keeping.

  “What do you need me to do?” he asked Wes, straightening.

  “Boil water.” Wes turned to his wife. “Go to our room and get all of the clean cloth you can find; also bring two cups, my penknife, and a jar of salve.”

  Jack would have mentally kicked himself for not having more supplies on hand if he’d not been so worried about building up the fire. Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he’d go see Charles and buy everything Ella could ever need to make this place a home.

  He gathered a few partially charred logs that had been left from the last inhabitant of the room and built a teepee out of them in the center of the fireplace, saving the one that had the most splinters coming off in every which direction. He peeled apart the last one, making a small pile of kindling. Then he pushed the little stack of shredded wood underneath the teepee of logs he’d created.

  Just then, Allison came in and handed Wes the supplies he’d requested.