The Thorn Keeper

by Pepper D. Basham

  Moonlight glimmered in her cobalt depths. “Do you?”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, attempting to hold onto the frayed visions in molten motion. “Were you in red?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice soft. “And you’d only learnt to dance a few weeks prior.”

  He stared down at her, mesmerized by all he’d come to appreciate about her in the past and the present. Not even failed memories weakened this inexplicable bond with her, and learning of all her sacrifices, her acts of love, her tireless constancy…no wonder he’d readily given over his heart.

  “Catherine?”

  Her expectant smile held such tenderness, he lost his train of thought.

  “I love when you say my name.”

  He stopped moving and rested his forehead to hers. “Catherine.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sighed into him. “Yes?”

  “Do you think perhaps…would you mind if I…” Heat crawled into his face. “Returned to the cottage with you?”

  She raised a mock innocent brow, gaze darkening. “And why ever would you want to do that, dear Doctor?”

  The tease in her tone warmed him clean through. “Beacon House is rather crowded, you know.”

  “Of course.”

  He cupped her cheek, holding her gaze as an unceasing longing filled his love for her. “And the noises, they can sometimes be rather bothersome.”

  Her grin spread. “I see.”

  “And I can’t seem to manage my heart without you near.”

  “Oh.” Her exclamation shaped her lips into a perfect invitation.

  If they weren’t outside of a crowded ballroom, he would have confirmed the hint of memory nudging him to take a taste.

  “I’m sorry I’ve put you through so much uncertainty and turmoil.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek as if to clear away the smudge of his wounds. “You must still remind me of many things, but of one truth I have no doubt.”

  “That I’m quite stubborn? Impulsive?” She drew in a shaky breath. “Impossible?”

  His gaze roamed her face, taking in the beauty. “You love well, dear Catherine, and no man could do better than your love.”

  Her smile quivered, and her gaze dropped to his lips. “I see you’re finding your words much better.”

  “I’m finding many things better, with more clarity, but I still have one distinct and unresolved curiosity.”

  She looked back into his eyes, her ebony brow tilting with question.

  He lowered his lips to hers in a soft and swift kiss, one that wouldn’t draw attention but also encouraged his thirst for more.

  The thought of being alone with his bride encouraged his speedy departure from the reception, but Catherine didn’t seem to mind. She appeared as enthusiastic, bidding good-bye to her mother straight away and walking with him through the late March evening.

  A quiet anticipation passed between them in the darkness of the car. The night air nipped at their faces, but he’d blanketed her into the seat for the drive. Though he’d recovered many memories, he only had faint hues of their time together as husband and wife. Perhaps, as with everything else, experience proved the best discovery, even if all he did was hold her through the night.

  Car headlamps materialized behind them along the empty roadway. It approached at a fast speed for the curves, kindling David’s paranoia. His mind began the internal rationale…this was only another guest leaving the reception. But his pulse shot into rapid-fire.

  He rested his wrapped hand against one side of the steering mechanism and kept a firm grip with his good hand, allowing the driver to pass, but instead, the car stayed at David’s side.

  “What is he doing?” Catherine called over the sound of the engine.

  The car nudged closer, giving a bump to David’s runabout.

  “What on earth?” Catherine grabbed the door frame.

  The bump happened again, nearly knocking the steering mechanism loose from David’s hand. It was a lone driver. Male, from what David could tell in the darkness.

  “I think he’s trying to push us off the roadway.”

  That was exactly his thought. Another bump sent them into the grass along the side of the road which led into a forest area. One hit to a tree could prove serious, even fatal.

  “I have an idea, but I need you to trust me.” He gripped the steering mechanism. “And hold on.”

  He pressed the acceleration mechanism at his right hand, moving out in front of the lunatic, and the other car accelerated to match. The runabout began to tremble from the unaccustomed driving speed. David had never gone above thirty-five mph, and now he neared forty-five. As soon as the other car began to slide over toward them, David initiated the floor brake so quickly, the other car slid in front of them, swerving out of control and only missing them by inches.

  The sudden decrease in speed sent David’s Model T skidding off the road, but the slower speed saved them from the other car’s fate. They remained upright and jolted to a tilted halt.

  Catherine would have jumped from their car and marched over to the madman to give him a piece of her mind if something quite strange hadn’t happened. As the car slammed to a stop, a warm and wet liquid pooled beneath her. What had happened? Surely she hadn’t…

  Her stomach tightened to granite. No.

  “Catherine,” David took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, his palms moved to her face. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Not hurt, exactly....

  “And the baby?”

  “I…I think we are both fine.”

  “Thank God.” He placed a kiss to her head and reached for his door lever. “I’m going to see to the other car, but I need to leave my headlamps on to light the way. Will you be all right here?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Or she hoped. She grabbed his hand. “Be careful.”

  David walked within the dim glow of the headlamps to the overturned car. A roadster, if Catherine guessed rightly. Her stomach tightened again, bringing additional warm fluid from her body. Oh dear God, what are you doing? She palmed her stomach, growing more certain of her predicament. Perfect timing.

  “I need your help.” David appeared at the door and reached into the back, taking his doctor’s bag. “He’s badly injured.”

  “You’re going to help the man who tried to kill us?” Catherine pushed herself out of the car. The cool air hit all of her damp places, stealing her breath. Another tightening of her stomach took away a little more.

  David paused, bag in hand, and stared at her. “It’s the right thing to do. And you know that too.”

  “My willingness is a bit more begrudging, but yes.” After all, the man tried to kill them, in case David had forgotten. She followed with awkward steps, her body stiff and cold.

  The light from the headlamps showed the roadster lying on its side. A man’s body sprawled out on the ground beside the car.

  “He has an abdominal wound, from what I can see.” David knelt beside him. “What do you see?”

  As David’s shadow moved aside, it afforded Catherine a clearer view. “No, David. It’s Mr. Dandy!”

  David ignored the temptation to leave Mr. Dandy to his fate. The man had caused turmoil for his wife and might have been the one who tampered with his father’s car, let alone the driver who almost caused their accident. But, as a doctor, his calling burned clear.

  Save lives.

  David reached under Mr. Dandy’s back and felt for an exit wound. Nothing. That gave a little hope.

  “Could you retrieve one of the blankets from the car? We can use them as bandages.”

  Catherine sighed. “I hope the devil of a man gets a conscience knocked into him from this.” She made a stiff turn toward the car, her gait awkward.

  Perhaps the baby caused additional discomfort?

  Mr. Dandy’s pulse grew weaker, his prognosis grave. But David had to try.

  He ripped the man’s shirt open to expose the full wound, the dim light of the runabout providing
less than ideal clarity.

  Catherine returned with the blanket. He slid one end of the cloth beneath Mr. Dandy’s back and Catherine caught the other end, wrapping the entire ‘bandage’ around the man’s abdomen. Minutes passed as they worked, Catherine more slowly than usual. A few times, she even made a pained noise, as though the efforts to save Mr. Dandy hurt or annoyed her.

  Despite their efforts, Mr. Dandy never regained consciousness.

  “He’s gone.”

  Catherine placed her hand on her stomach and shook her head. “I’m sorry for it, David. Truly I am.” She turned away. “I didn’t like him, but I wouldn’t have wished this end.”

  Her countenance paled to vulnerability in the headlamps’ glow. He put a hand to her arm. “I know.” He turned her toward the roundabout. “We’ll telephone the police and emergency from Beacon.”

  He put her arm through his and made a few steps toward the car before Catherine stopped.

  “Catherine? What is it?”

  She said nothing for a moment, and then her body relaxed. “I…I think I’m in labor.”

  David turned her to face him. “What did you say?”

  Sweat beads pearled on her forehead, even in the chill of the evening. How had he failed to notice?

  “My bag of waters broke directly after the accident.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” He almost yelled at her. “That was an hour ago, if not longer.”

  “A man was dying. What did you expect me to do?” She yelled right back and then bent forward to hold her stomach again.

  “Was that another pain?” He took her arm to finish the walk to the car.

  “Yes. They’re…they’re close. Painful.”

  “We must get you to Beacon House.”

  He opened the car door and she tensed again, this time releasing a pitiful whimper. “I don’t think I can make it to Beacon House.”

  Every ounce of heat left his body. Delivering a baby? Off the road? In the middle of the night? “Surely there’s time.”

  “David.” She grabbed his face and brought it close. “Madame gave me a detailed overview of the birthing process, as well as witnessing a few myself. I…I....” She tensed again, releasing his face, and a cry of pain erupted.

  The sound sent him into motion. He adjusted the remaining blankets in the seat of the runabout in an attempt to make her as comfortable as possible, difficult in the narrow space of the car. The headlamps gave little assistance, but the moon’s glow helped. Her face looked so pale in its light, so…weak.

  “I need to push.” She sat back, propping up on her elbows.

  “No, not yet.”

  “But I need to,” she cried, the pitiful sound ripping at his heart like nothing else.

  “You need to focus.”

  “Focus?” Her gaze drilled into him with a sharp edge. “Don’t be an imbecile! What else do you think I’m doing? Having tea?”

  That was probably not his best response as a doctor…but as a husband? Fairly accurate.

  He checked her, his hands having to ‘see’ more than his eyes because of the poor lighting. Oh, good heavens. The baby was crowning.

  “We’re having this baby here.” David held Catherine’s gaze. “Now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Catherine blinked against the morning light slipping through a slit in the curtains. Her body ached, sore and beaten, but less than it had the day before. She turned her head toward the cradle near her bed and tears clouded her vision. David held a little bundle in his arms, staring down at her daughter with such tenderness, such unadulterated love, Catherine couldn’t look away.

  How could God have brought something so beautiful from something so broken? Gratitude crashed down on her, crushing her breath, unleashing her tears. His love was relentless and unfathomable and exquisite.

  David ran a finger down the baby’s cheek, lost in the same wonder Catherine felt every time she looked into the tiny face. Amazed. She didn’t think she could love David Ross any more than she already did, but this moment, this memory brought a new appreciation for the man he was…and the father he would be.

  He glanced up then, his smile as tender as when he’d stared at her daughter. “Good morning,” he whispered.

  “Good morning.” She barely managed a response through the emotions crowding her throat.

  He looked fairly disheveled, his collar loose and hair tousled. Very roguish. Her grin inched up at one corner, teasing treacherous thoughts of the future. What a perfectly sweet, dashing man! Heaven help her, how she loved him!

  “How are you feeling?” He placed the baby gently in her cradle.

  “Better than yesterday, but I don’t think I’ll plan a visit into the village yet.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, then?” A glint deepened the emerald in his eyes.

  “On horseback.”

  He moved to the bed and sat down next to her, careful to adjust the coverlet to keep her comfortable. Her insides softened into pudding all over again at his nearness. “She’s been such a darling, hasn’t she?”

  “She’s beautiful, like her mother.” David’s warm admiration brought a sudden awareness of her early morning appearance.

  She pushed back her loose hair, her face growing warm. “Right now, I look untidy.”

  He braided his fingers through hers, holding her gaze as he did so. “Beautiful.”

  “I’m ever so fond of flattery, my dear doctor, and I encourage you to use it liberally. Indeed, it might have healing qualities, for I am suddenly feeling less sore.”

  “Flattery for medicinal purposes, is it?”

  “For any purpose you like.”

  He chuckled and then caught the sound in his injured palm. Catherine pulled his hand into hers, kissing it, and then she reached out and gently touched his cheek, reveling at the way her fingers remembered the contours of his precious face.

  He closed his eyes, perhaps enjoying the sensation as much as she.

  “Oh, don’t worry for noise. She’s a sound sleeper.”

  His brow tipped. “And she gets that from her father.”

  Her gaze shot to his.

  “I’m a very sound sleeper.”She released the hold on her caution. “Yes, you are.”

  He brought her wrist up to his mouth and left a lingering kiss. Their gazes locked, and the full tenderness she’d missed so much somehow found its way back into his expression. Deeper. More endearing.

  Her breath shivered with frailty.

  “Have you decided on her name?”

  “Cecily Adeline, the middle names of two women who left us in the same year.” She searched his face. “Assuming you’re fine with using your mother’s middle name. I thought…perhaps we could call her Addie.”

  Addie? Would he ever get used to Catherine’s generosity? Her unpredictability? His grin tipped. No, probably not, and it was one of her most appealing qualities. He looked over at the cradle. “Our Addie Ross, then?”

  “It seems to suit her, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. It does.” He pressed another kiss to her hand, breathing in the scent of her skin. “Thank you, Catherine.”

  “And I ought to apologize.” Her words whispered, her eyes taking on a sorrowful roundness. “I’m sorry I called you an imbecile. I didn’t mean it, truly.” Her bottom lip pouted out in a tempting way to gain his full attention. “Well, I meant it at the time, but I didn’t mean it forever. So I—”

  His mouth covered hers, hungry and grateful and ready to discover all the other memories his heart knew but his mind didn’t. Sweet, right, and awakening a foggy remembrance of a similar time, a similar taste. He pulled her closer, deeper into the kiss, aching to enjoy and cherish this beautiful woman, this precious gift. The muddled old memories and the precious new ones confirmed something his heart already knew. He would love her as long as he drew breath.

  A steady procession of visitors filed through the little cottage at Mrs. Bradford’s careful admission. Even Lady Hollingsworth arrived
from London.

  She sat in their little parlor, appearing as comfortable there as in Willow Tree Court. A true lady. Just like Grandmama.

  “She’s is a precious addition to your family.” Lady Hollingsworth looked from David to Catherine. “I was pleased to receive your wire.”

  Catherine adjusted her hold on Addie. “I thought you might wish to know, but I never imagined you’d visit.”

  “It is a painful truth that as one ages, one becomes more inclined to the comforts of home than the adventures of travel, but I still find my way out of Willow Tree when circumstances merit.”

  “We appreciate all you’ve done.” David added.

  “It has been my pleasure.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “And now, to know you are safe from Maureen Cavanaugh’s vengeance adds an additional balm of comfort.”

  “You have news?” Catherine walked Addie to the cradle they’d placed by the window to take in the beauty of the cherry blossoms framing the view.

  “Indeed, I do, and it was one of the reasons I wished to visit in person, to set both of your minds at ease.” She placed her tea onto the table. “Though no clues from Dr. Ross’ incident or your own could be directly linked to Lady Cavanaugh, and owing to her passionate declaration that Mr. Dandy performed these malicious acts of his own accord, Lord Cavanaugh decided the best way to subdue her was to give her a choice.”

  “Prison or death?” The words slipped out before Catherine could stop them. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, but the very thought that she possibly plotted to kill David—or Alexander—unfurls every flame in my temper.”

  “And rightly so.” Lady Hollingsworth nodded. “But again, there was no proof of her involvement, so Lord Cavanaugh offered her a solution that might prove just as unwelcome as prison. Either live on the Cavanaugh estate in one of the smaller properties, or take a townhouse in London.”

  “The only smaller homes at Ednesbury Court are servant’s lodgings.” David took a seat beside Catherine. “Like this one.”