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

by Gordon, Rose

  “Just where was she set to be arriving?”

  Michaela let out a deep breath. She might as well tell him everything she knew. “She was on her way to meet a man by the name of Jack Walker. He works for the army over at Fort Gibson in Indian Territory.”

  For the first time in her entire life, Michaela witnessed her father’s stony face crumble to dust right before her eyes. “May God be gracious and generous with his protection of my daughter.”

  “Pa?”

  “Not now, Michaela. I’ve got to go instruct Naaman to ready the carriage.”

  ~Chapter Sixteen~

  True to his word, by choice or coincidence it might never be known, Jack fell asleep shortly after Ella finished her tea.

  It could be suggested by the way he woke up in a heap on the floor that it had not been by his own accord that he’d slept, but he’d slept all the same.

  Running his hand over his tired face, he used the other to grip the edge of the bed and push to his feet, where he caught sight of Ella and was suddenly paralyzed.

  Her eyes, still not open, had movements behind the lids. He reached forward to touch her forehead. Relief like he’d never known before rushed through him. She wasn’t as hot as she’d been last time, and best of all, she was showing all the signs of being alive. Not just alive, but healing.

  He lifted his palm from her forehead and trailed his fingers down to her neck to check her pulse.

  It was then that she shifted and made a sound of annoyance.

  He pressed his hand against her skin, hoping to annoy her more.

  It worked.

  “Ssssstop,” she slurred.

  Elation shot through him. Then he set his eyes on the medicine he’d brought with him. He was supposed to apply it three times during the daylight hours and once in the middle of the night. She wasn’t going to like this; of that, he was certain. Best get her to drink the tea first. Otherwise, she might refuse.

  Jack brushed her hair away from her face and let her rest while he set out to heat some water.

  “Can you sit up for me?” he murmured.

  Ella grumbled, but Jack continued to help her sit up, noting how her eyes were still closed.

  “Do you feel like opening your eyes?” he wondered.

  She gave her head a slight shake.

  “That’s all right, you just rest.” He finished with the tea and brought it over to her. “I have some tea for you to drink.”

  “Tea?”

  “Yes, I made you tea.”

  She grumbled something, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

  “Drink.” He lifted the cup to her lips and helped her take a drink.

  Praise be, she didn’t protest and took a swig.

  Then a second. Then a third.

  He tipped the cup back for her. Clearly she thought she was dying from thirst. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so happy to drink the tea. He could hardly tolerate the smell and couldn’t imagine being made to actually put it into his mouth. When she was finished, he looked at the empty cup and shuddered.

  “Would you like some water?”

  She didn’t say anything but made herself more comfortable in the bed, then drifted back to sleep.

  He held his breath and waited for her breathing to become steady, which he’d realized was an indication of a deep sleep.

  Reaching for the medicine that rested on the table beside her bed, he whispered an apology. What he was apologizing for exactly—the pain he was about to inflict, the pain she’d already suffered, his part in this whole mess, or perhaps all of those reasons—he didn’t know.

  Holding his breath and saying a silent prayer, he poured the liquid in her wound. Pleased in more ways than one that she started shifting and fidgeting when he did so. Then he applied the paste...

  ***

  A tinge of pain yanked Ella from her dreamless state. Thankfully, it wasn’t as horrific as the pain she’d felt at an earlier point in her life, but it was still pain. Her leg jerked of its own accord to escape whatever it was that was touching her.

  Just then, a gentle hand fell on her knee, stilling her.

  “Just a little more.”

  She nodded and the dull pain began to ebb, allowing her to rest a while longer.

  ***

  Jack dropped his folded piece of cloth into the basin of water on the bed then reached for his pocket watch. He checked the time and grinned. Only twenty minutes until lunch. He’d been watching Ella’s leg all day, and though he couldn’t be positive, it looked better than it had last night. But just to find out whether he was living in a daydream, he planned to ask Wes.

  If anyone had ever told him that one day he’d be inviting another man to look at his wife’s bare leg, he’d have shoved that man’s teeth down his throat.

  He shook his head and turned his attention to Ella, who was stirring for the fifth time this morning.

  “Would you like some more to drink?” he asked her. At her nod, he poured her some tea from the pot then moved to help her sit up a little. He’d rotated between giving her tea and water when she woke. The tea, it would seem, was not a very well-loved option for her. He brought the cup to her lips and said, “Here we go.”

  She took a sip.

  Then immediately spit it back into the cup.

  He chuckled. “Sorry, sweetheart, you have to drink it.” He lifted the cup to her lips again.

  She moved her face away.

  He twisted his lips into an overdone smile. “It’s not so bad. Besides, you liked it last time. In fact, you said it was the best drink you’d ever had,” he lied, hoping that would make her want to try it again.

  She did and grimaced.

  Biting back a smile born purely of elation that she was drinking the tea and not because he’d just tricked his wife into believing a lie, he coaxed her to continue drinking. “Just a little more.”

  Ten minutes later, the tea was gone and she was resting again.

  ***

  Ella thought the pressure in her abdomen would be the death of her.

  As it was, it was invading her rest and making her want to double over in pain.

  Suddenly, there was a warm hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes. Not much, just enough to look at the offending hand. The arm it was attached to had a thin patch of long, wiry black hairs just above the wrist.

  She blinked, but the hairs were still there. Why was a man touching her?

  Never mind that, her abdomen hurt almost like she needed to...

  Abandoning all pride, she wiggled around, calling for the chamberpot.

  The man—whoever he was—grabbed the requested item then turned to face her, his incredibly handsome face as red as a fresh apple.

  “All right,” he said, “I’ll lift you—”

  “No. Turn,” she slurred, making wild movements with her arms.

  He didn’t turn but moved down her body until he got to her waist.

  She twisted, trying to clench her muscles. She had no idea when she’d consumed so much water, but apparently she had for her insides were threatening to burst because of it.

  He placed his hands on her hips and she groaned, in too much pain to be truly embarrassed, but still knowing it was not proper for a strange man to be seeing her thus.

  “Hold still for a moment,” he said, in a voice as soft as velvet.

  But she couldn’t. She was at a loss to explain exactly why she was unable to still her movements. He seemed a trustworthy sort if he was helping her this way, but her body still acted of its own accord.

  Both of his strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her...then he let one hand go and moved something...then a sheet came over her lower half....then he was back at her side.

  “I’m going to lift you up.”

  She looked at him in horror. He was going to hold her in position while she took care of her business?

  She shook her head and clenched her legs together. She was not going to do that in front of him. She cocked her head to the
side. She’d seen this man before; she just didn’t know where.

  That didn’t matter. His presence at such a time was completely inappropriate.

  “Here, I’ll turn around,” he murmured. He repositioned his hands so that he was facing the wall behind her while still holding her over the chamberpot.

  She waited a long minute but could hold it no longer, then closed her eyes and pretended he wasn’t there.

  ***

  At dinner time, Colonel Lewis escorted Mrs. Lewis over to Jack’s room to check on Ella and bring her a bowl of soup. Jack was glad for the change and thought Ella would be, too.

  When she woke up after they left, he even got her to drink two cups of the broth and a half of a cup of the tea before going back to sleep.

  He ran his hand over her forehead, noticing how her skin, though still warm to the touch, was nothing like it had been yesterday or even earlier in the day. He allowed himself a smile and busied himself with fluffing her pillows and keeping her comfortable.

  “Jack?”

  Jack’s head shot up. “Allison!”

  “The door was unlocked...” She shrugged and lifted the stack of folded linen in her arms. “I just took them off the line.”

  Jack smiled at her and moved to take the neatly folded stack of Ella’s chemises from Allison. “She’s still wearing yours—”

  “She is?” Allison’s eyes got wide with what appeared to be horror.

  “As a matter of fact, yes she is.” Jack grinned in a way he hadn’t in what felt like a long, long time. This morning, Allison had brought over a new chemise for Ella and had taken the pile of discarded ones to launder. They both assumed she’d need a new one before lunchtime, but she hadn’t. “She’s woken up several times today.”

  Allison nodded slowly, her face softening as she took his meaning. “Then she’s getting better?”

  “I believe so, yes.” He cast a quick glance at her leg, which he’d covered with a light sheet. “Her periods of alertness are lengthening and her speech—and stubbornness—is returning. I expect by day’s end tomorrow she should be strong enough to give me a sound tongue-lashing for not taking better care of her.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Allison said, beaming.

  “Yes, it is,” he said with confidence. He didn’t care about the impending confrontation that might take place between the two of them. He’d be thrilled that she knew his name. But it was best not to get ahead of himself. She still hadn’t seemed to recognize him.

  “Well, I’d best be going. If there’s anything Wes or I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I will. Thank you. And thank you for—” he lifted the stack of chemises in his hands.

  “You’re welcome.” She went to the door, then paused. “Oh, and Jack, I think you’ve taken wonderful care of her, and when she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll think so, too.”

  ~Chapter Seventeen~

  Ella was so tired of being tired. She vowed to stay awake long enough to at least speak to the man who’d been haunting her dreams.

  She opened her mouth to speak to him but was unable to find her voice. Instead, she just nodded when he offered her a cup, then drank greedily.

  “Thank you,” she croaked in a cracking, scratchy voice that reminded her of her grandmother.

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was so rich and smooth compared to hers.

  She scowled, and for some reason, the handsome man at her bedside chuckled.

  She scrunched up her nose and twisted her lips into a snarl, making him laugh again.

  Defeated, she covered her face with her hands and fell back against the pillows. This was not how she’d hoped the conversation would go, but now that it had already turned sour, there was no reason to stave off her own personal mortification and deny herself comfort. She dropped her hands to her sides and swallowed the gravel that was lodged in her throat. “Could you help me?”

  He paused in whatever task he’d been doing with regard to her sheets and turned his full attention to her. “Yes?”

  She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his deep, brown eyes as she asked this. “I need—” she pointed to the painted white metal bowl across the room.

  His smile seemed to irritate her, but the mortification caused by his amusement at her request seemed far better than the mortification she’d face if he didn’t help her and she... Her face heated in embarrassment at the thought.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, running his hand through her hair.

  A few minutes later, she was ready to wander back into the black abyss of rest and forget all about how he’d just helped her with such a private matter.

  “Ella?”

  She sighed but refused to open her eyes and look at him. “Yes?”

  “How did you know I’d help?”

  “You always do.”

  There was a brief pause, then, “So you know who I am?”

  “Yes, the man of my dreams.” She shook her head. She’d meant to say in, in her dreams, but was too tired now to try to correct her mistake and fell asleep.

  ***

  Jack stood frozen. He was sure she hadn’t meant it that way, but... He raked his hand through his hair and tried to put it all together. Was he really the man she’d dreamed of marrying? Or was she seeing him when she woke up and then dreaming about him? Considering the situation, it must be the latter circumstance. He sighed. How unfortunate she didn’t remember his name or that they had not only met, but were married.

  He lowered himself into a nearby chair. At least she’d remembered him and that he’d helped her before. That was a start.

  The afternoon passed quickly, with Ella waking up every hour and a half. Each time, he hoped she’d remember him or give him a clue about what else she remembered, but she didn’t seem as interested in him as he was in her. He scrubbed a hand over his face. She still wore Allison’s chemise. After she’d told him that she remembered him, and possibly had recollections of her other brief snatches of being awake, he’d been reluctant to have her change her garments. Likely, she’d protest or be uncomfortable around him, and that was the last thing he wanted for her right now.

  The following day was just as productive where Ella was concerned. She woke up regularly, choked down the tea when he refused to give her only water, and mumbled a few incoherent phrases. Names mainly. He couldn’t help frowning at the irony that all the names she’d said were those of men: Daniel Coleman, Stephan Ritz, and Albert Flank. He wondered who they were and why she was saying their names instead of his, but he let it go. There were far more important things to concern himself with. Such as her progress. And her progress was good.

  The wound on her leg had completely closed up with a hearty scab over the top. Each day after that, the skin around it looked better and the wound itself was looking a bit smaller. He was very pleased. Especially that the foul odor from her infection was now gone, too. Just more proof that the infection was gone and her leg was healing.

  But it would still take some time before she’d be able to walk on it again, since a fair amount of the muscle had been eaten away. If she ever regained enough strength to wake up, that is. Saving Grace had told him it could be a few days, even with the medicine, before her fever would be gone and she’d have the strength to stay awake and regain her full memory. He just had to be patient.

  He bent forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead, thankful she was still alive. He straightened in his chair and glanced out at the sun from the window. Dinner would be here soon, and so would Ella’s next time of being awake.

  Dinner didn’t arrive, however, and despite it seeming greedy on his end, he frowned. He knew it was only out of generosity that Wes had taken to making sure something was brought to Jack and Ella, but it would have been nice had the man told him nothing would be delivered tonight. He was certain that Ella might like something more fulfilling than tea and water.

  He jerked open the door to reveal a very stunned Allison standing just o
utside the door beside a casual-looking Wes.

  “I was just...”

  Wes chuckled. “Are you planning to let us in?”

  Jack took a step back, then off to the side to allow them to enter. He furrowed his brow when he caught sight of the dishes arranged on Wes’ tray. “Are the two of you planning to join us for dinner?” he ventured.

  “No, just Allison.” Wes put the tray down on the table. “You’ll be dining by yourself.”

  Jack stared at Wes, dumbfounded.

  “What he means is, we’ll be having dinner in your room tonight and you’ll be dining in ours.”

  “No.”

  Wes walked over to him. “Jack, you’ve spent days on end in here. You need to spend some time outside of this room.”

  “I did. I went to see Dark Moon,” he reminded Wes.

  “That doesn’t count.” He dropped his voice. “This was Allison’s idea, and once she takes an idea into her mind, there isn’t any way to sway her.”

  “Just because you can’t stand up to your wife, Wes, doesn’t mean that I have to abide by her demands.”

  Wes’ blue eyes turned to chips of ice. “Be mindful what you say, Jack. My wife never denied me intimacies and sought to spend her wedding night outside of my company.”

  Jack’s face heated.

  “Now,” Wes continued, his tone softening. “We shall dine with Ella tonight, and if she wakes up, Allison can help her any way she might need. You go next door and eat—do not interrupt me, I know you haven’t been eating all of what I’ve been bringing you.” He pushed Jack toward the door and opened it. “Besides, you are in desperate need of a bath.”

  Jack sniffed himself. “Agreed.” He cast a glance at Ella. What if she woke up while he wasn’t there...

  “Go,” Wes said, pushing him toward the door.

  “I can’t.” Jack sidestepped Wes. “I can’t leave her. I don’t care how foul I smell, I’m not leaving her.”

  “You need to,” Allison said.

  “No. I can’t.”

  Her face softened. “How about a compromise?”