by Lily Graison
What was she doing on the floor? Lifting his head, he noticed the damp sheet laying across his body and the sodden blanket and rug beneath him. Flashes of memories came back—agonizing hours of heat burning through him as a fever raged, of Victoria’s face, and cool relief as she ran her hands over his skin.
He tried to move and winced. The wounds on his chest still hurt and he’d never had to piss so bad in his life.
Victoria stirred beside him and pulled her hand away, tucking it under her cheek. He looked back over at her. How long had she laid there? And why? He studied her features. She looked peaceful in sleep—as if she didn't have a care in the world. He drank in every nuance of her face, the way her sooty lashes lay against her cheeks, the gentle slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips. His gaze lingered there, a brief flash of memory flitting across his mind of his hands in her hair and the warm, wet slide of her lips against his own. Were the images from a fever-induced dream or were they real? Had he kissed her? And had she kissed him back?
He shifted to his side, clenching his teeth when the stitches pulled. He turned until he was comfortable and was able to see her without trying to twist his neck to do so. Her hair was still down, the long strands laying against her cheek. He brushed it back, careful not to wake her and just laid there watching her, the clicking of the clock ticking minute after minute until the sun was fully up.
She finally stirred, blinking at him sleepily before her eyes widened and she gasped. “Gideon!” She sat up, her hands smoothing over his face, forehead, and chest. He smiled as she checked him over, enjoying the feel of her hands against his skin, and turned to lay on his back again and wished he hadn’t. He made a face and tried not to move again as the wet blankets underneath him made for a sodden bed.
“What?” she said. “What is it? Are you in pain?”
He grabbed her hands to still them. “I’m fine.” His voice was rough, his throat still dry. “Can you get me some water?”
She was on her feet, scurrying away without a word. He struggled up on his elbow, blowing out a breath when he managed to sit up straight, his weight braced on his left arm. That one small thing left him weak as a newborn kitten.
“Don’t you dare get up,” she said as she hurried across the room.
“The blankets are soaked.”
She paused. “Oh, right. Well, drink this and wait right there.”
He took the glass and sipped the water, sighing as it cooled his mouth and throat. He could hear Victoria in the bedroom, the sound of drawers opening, or maybe the lid on the trunk clanging before she hissed a soft curse. He smiled and finished the water and looked for the jar she’d left him the other day. His bladder felt ready to explode.
She came back a few minutes later nearly out of breath. “We’ll move you to the bed so I can clean up this mess. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”
He set the glass down. “Only one way to find out.”
“Right.” She came to his side and paused. “Um, just so you know, you’re very naked underneath that sheet.”
He grinned. “I noticed.”
Her cheeks turned a blistering red. “I’m sorry. You were burning up. I had no choice.”
“It’s fine.” More than fine, but he’d give that more thought later.
She nodded and darted into the bedroom again and came back out with one of the old blankets from the trunk. “Cover yourself with this and I’ll help you stand up.”
He took the blanket and draped it over his lap. Pulling the damp sheet away, he twisted the blanket around his waist and caught both ends in his right hand.
Victoria walked around to stand behind him and grabbed him under both arms. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” It took two tries to get up off the floor and his teeth were clenched so tight from the pain he thought they’d break. Every inch of his body hurt. He wasn’t sure if it was from laying on the floor so long or if the fever had caused it, but the deep gouges the mountain lion left behind were barely felt compared to the rest of his aches.
His grip on the blanket loosened but he caught it before it slipped too far down.
Victoria wrapped her arm around his waist and grabbed his left arm, slinging it around her shoulders. “Go slow.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They only made it three steps before the room spun and his vision blurred. He reached for the wall to keep from falling and it wasn’t until Victoria gasped that he realized he’d let go of the blanket, his ass—and more—bare for all the world to see.
“I’m not looking!”
He laughed, her outburst momentarily distracting him from the fact he wasn't sure he could make it to the bed.
“Don’t trip on it.”
He laughed again. He knew she meant the blanket but one look at her face and his laughter grew. She was blushing so hard he wasn’t sure her face would ever regain its natural color.
Kicking the blanket away, they slowly made their way into the bedroom. The bed had a thin blanket stretched across the mattress, another lying on the trunk. He took one small step at a time and he was out of breath by the time he sat on the edge of the bed.
Victoria let go of him and grabbed the blanket sitting on the trunk and covered him, her face still red as she blushed.
“I’ll never make it to the outhouse so—“
“Oh! The jar. Hang on, I’ll go fetch it.”
The moment she was gone, he grinned and shifted his body to lean back, pulling the blanket over him so he was covered and laid down with a sigh. Victoria walked into the room a moment later. Her face wasn’t as blistering red as before but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
She sat the jar on the nightstand and flicked her gaze up to his for a brief moment. “Are you hungry?”
Was he? He concentrated on how he felt, the aches were the most pressing matter but he was a bit hungry. There wasn’t a gnawing need but his stomach felt empty. “I think I could eat.”
“All right.” She nodded and backed away from the bed. “I’ll leave you to your business and be back with something for you to eat when you’re finished.”
She pulled the door shut on her way out.
He was awake. Victoria leaned back against the bedroom door and closed her eyes. Gideon was awake and talking and wasn’t going to die.
The fear that had been gripping her heart for the last few days let go and it felt as if the oppressive weight sitting on her chest fled right along with it. He was going to be okay.
She smiled and pushed away from the door and grabbed the wet sheet and blanket from the floor. They needed proper cleaning but that would have to wait. She draped them over the drying line Gideon had strung across the room then looked at the rug in front of the fireplace. There was no way she could pick it up and throw it across the line—not that those two nails holding the line up would be strong enough even if she could—and taking it outside would only cause it to freeze.
Building a larger fire would eventually dry it if she kept flipping it over but there was so little wood left. It seemed wasteful to use it just to dry a rug when they didn’t actually need it for anything.
It would have to dry on its own.
She headed to the kitchen and checked the broth from the day before. It was still good but she’d need to make something else for later. Perhaps a thick potato soup would fill him and provide a bit of energy. Without fresh meat and staples like eggs and milk, there wasn’t much else to fix.
Heading into the root cellar, she grabbed a basket of potatoes and carried it back up into the kitchen, setting them aside in order to draw a bucket of water to heat so the bed sheets could be washed. Those old blankets she’d laid across the mattress wouldn’t be comfortable. She’d have no choice but to wash them, even if it had to be done in the sink.
Once done, she grabbed a bowl to get Gideon the broth she’d promised. Thoughts of him filled her head as she ladled the soup from the pot. The fear of him dying, that one small kiss—she smiled at t
he brief encounter—and the joy of him waking up, laughing as if nothing had ever been wrong with him.
She gave him a few more minutes in the bedroom before crossing to the door and knocking. When he called out, she went inside. He was propped up against the headboard, his hair disheveled. Even weak-eyed and covered in bandages, the sight of him caused her pulse to leap. The kiss he’d given her jumped into her mind again. It had been brief but still caused butterflies when thinking about it. She wasn’t sure what prompted him to do it, though. Had he been kissing her or was he kissing the unknown woman, Nora?
She met his gaze and smiled, lifting the bowl. “It’s just broth but I’ll put a thick soup on for later. If your stomach can handle this, you should be all right eating something more solid.”
He nodded and took the bowl, not bothering with the spoon. He tipped the edge to his lips and took a sip while looking at her.
She averted her eyes, fidgeting with the blanket until she remembered he was naked underneath it. She’d seen nearly every inch of skin he possessed and then some. Her cheeks heated again. Clearing her throat she said, “How are the cuts? Do they still hurt?”
He lowered the bowl and looked down. “Not too bad, actually.”
“Finish the broth and I’ll take a closer look at them.”
He downed the rest of the broth and set the bowl on the table beside the bed, then sat up a bit straighter. The claw marks the mountain lion left behind was starting to heal. Most of them were just red welts now. The deeper cuts she’d had to stitch were still red but there was no sign of swelling. She sighed in relief. “Those look much better.”
She moved closer and pressed a finger near the edge of the stitches. “Does it hurt any?” She glanced up when he didn’t say anything.
He held her gaze for a long moment. “No. It’s a little tender but nothing like it had been.”
“Good.” She straightened. “I’ll put fresh bandages on it to keep it clean. I’m not sure my heart can handle an infection and you getting another fever.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, her heart started pounding and she heard a dull ringing in her ears. Losing Thomas and then faced with the possibility of losing Gideon as well? Her knees went weak, the ringing growing louder.
“It’s all right.” Gideon reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” She tried to smile but failed. He tugged on her hand, pulling her forward until she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Victoria, I’m fine.”
She nodded and tried to swallow past the lump forming in her throat. “I just—you scared me. I thought—”
“I know,” he said. “I can see it on your face.” He pushed her hair behind one ear and touched her chin, tilting her head up so she’d look at him. “And thank you. If you wouldn’t have been here, I wouldn’t have made it. I don’t even think I would have made it into the cabin. That mountain lion would have just made a meal out of me and been done with it.”
She grimaced. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s true. I’m not sure why it attacked but I never saw it. Had I been alone, it would have killed me.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. He was right. Had he been alone, the mountain lion probably would have killed him. And no one would have known. “I guess we’re even now.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Even?”
“We’ve both had a turn at saving each other.” He smiled, and for the first time in days, it reached his eyes. He may still be weak but that would change once he started eating again. Thoughts of him being alone up here and that mountain lion attacking caused something tight to pull in her chest. “Why do you stay up here?”
He stilled, his eyes locked on hers. “What do you mean?”
She picked at a loose string in the blanket she sat on. “Well, you said you were alone up here most of the time. That your brother stayed in town so—why do you stay up here by yourself? If anything happened to you, no one would know.”
He let go of her hand and fiddled with the blanket covering his lap. “I just prefer to be alone.”
The words, and the way he said them, stung a bit. Did that mean he didn’t want her here? “I see.” She licked her dry lips and looked to her lap. “I’m sorry. I guess having to deal with me —”
“I didn’t mean anything by that, Victoria.” He tipped her head up again to see her face. “I don’t live in town because there are too many bad memories. I prefer to be up here where I don’t have to think about them but if I had to do it all over again, I would still walk down that hill and shoot the bastard who attacked you. My only regret is the other two got away.”
Relief eased the pressure in her chest but not completely. She wondered at what bad memories he was referring to. Was Nora part of those? She wanted to ask but didn’t dare. His personal life was none of her business and if he wanted her to know who Nora was, and what sort of bad memories kept him isolated and up here alone on the mountain, he’d tell her. She smiled and stood. “I’ll go start on that soup and let you rest. Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m good.”
“All right. I’ll just be in the other room. If you need something, just give me a shout.”
He hadn’t been awake long enough to think properly but once Victoria left the bedroom, Gideon tried to remember all he could of the last few days. Not much came to mind. Snippets of things, mostly, but Victoria’s face he remembered. He remembered her voice, the soft caress of her hands on his skin and the way she’d smiled at him. Those smiles hadn’t been real if the look on her face a minute ago was any indication. She’d looked terrified at the thought of him taking another fever and—he didn’t blame her, not after what she’d already been through. She’d lost her husband for the exact same reason. A cut that set up infection and the following fever had killed him.
What would she have done had that happened all over again? The horrified look on her face said she’d thought the same thing. She would have been alone up here with no one to care for her. She didn’t know which path to take to go down the mountain to get to town. She’d be stuck here until Graham eventually came looking for him.
He could hear her in the other room moving around, the clink of pots and pans on the stove and the sound of water splashing into the sink, foreign. How many times had he laid here staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of the wind whistling past the cabin for company? Hearing her in the other room was strange but not unwelcome. He could get used to it. He could get used to her. As unhappy as he’d been when first finding her, he would admit having her here was nice. Oh, who was he trying to fool? Having her here was more than nice.
She’d left the bedroom door open. He raised his head to try and look into the other room. All he could see were sheets hanging from the drying line he’d strung across the room. He sat up. Could he make it to the chairs in front of the fireplace without falling on his face? The tall cabinet he kept his clothes in sat on the other side of the room. If he couldn’t make it that far, there was no way he could make it out of the bedroom.
He slung his legs over the side of the bed, draping the blanket around his waist, clutching it in one hand and using the other for balance as he stood. He waited a few moments to see if he’d get dizzy and took a step when he felt steady.
It was slow going. He was weak and walking felt as if he were trudging through thigh-high snow. He made it across the room and grabbed a pair of trousers, leaned against the wall for support and dropped his blanket. He hoped like hell Victoria didn’t choose that moment to come back into the room. Not that it mattered. He was naked and he didn’t get that way himself. She’d undressed him—twice now. She’d seen more of him than anyone had since….
He pulled the trousers up and pushed his last thought away. He didn’t feel like dredging all those memories up again. Not now. Right now, he wanted to sit by the fire and—
“What in the world are you doing?”
Luckily his pan
ts were all the way up. He hooked the buttons and turned his head toward her. “Putting pants on. I thought I’d come into the other room.”
The look on her face said he was out of his mind. “You thought wrong. You’re getting back into bed.”
She was in front of him, her arm around his waist and helping him back across the room before he could find a reason to protest. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he blew out a breath. That short walk took what little energy he had out of him.
“All the color has drained from your face. Do you feel all right?” She laid her palm against his forehead before cupping both his cheeks.
“I’m fine.”
Victoria sighed and shook her head. “Get back into bed.” She waited until he’d laid down to grab the blanket and cover him up. “There. Now don’t try to get up again without my help.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you still hungry? The soup is done. It’s not much more than a thick potato broth but it’ll fill the empty spots in your belly.”
Truth be told, he wasn’t. He was tired. That walk had been too much too soon. He shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He laid his head back on the pillow. “Maybe later. I think I’ll just lay here with my eyes closed for a few minutes.”
“All right. I’ll be in the other room if you need me. And do not get out of that bed again.”
He grinned as she walked away, his eyes already closed. He listened to her move about in the other room and fell asleep to the sound of her in his home, his thoughts drifting to how much he’d like to continue hearing them.
Chapter 12
Gideon woke to the sound of Victoria’s voice. Sitting up he scrubbed his hands over his face and looked around the room. She was on the other side of the fireplace, wood stacked and a small flame glowing. He wondered at the time but couldn’t tell. It was dark outside his bedroom window but was it night or early morning?
