Audra, who looked younger than Callie, said, “Step aside and let me see her, Seth.”
“Audra, give me a minute to—ow!” Seth jumped and turned to the woman. “Why’d you pinch me?”
Audra the Dandelion Fluff Woman gave Seth a look that made him stand up from where he sat on the bed and step back. Then, sounding as sweet as sugar, she said, “Go on. Let the poor woman have a minute to wake up.”
Seth stepped around so he hovered behind Audra.
Then Callie sat bolt upright. “Connor!” The movement clawed pain through every joint and muscle. Her head gave a sickening throb. Her stomach swirled, and for a second Callie fought against emptying her stomach. Her stomach was empty, which helped her control her collywobbles. “Where’s my son?”
“He’s fine,” Audra said. “He’s sitting at the breakfast table with Ethan and my two little ones.”
Agony didn’t stop Callie from swinging her legs toward the edge of the bed. “I have to see for myself that he’s all right.”
“You have to stay in bed. You’ve got a fever.” The dandelion rested surprisingly strong hands on her shoulders.
Or maybe Audra wasn’t surprisingly strong. Maybe, instead, Callie was surprisingly weak. “I need to go to Connor.”
The heat of her skin hit her as soon as Audra said the word fever. Callie struggled against Audra.
“Help me, Seth. We need to keep her here.”
Seth rushed around to the other side of the bed, and there was no resisting his strength. His hands replaced Audra’s, and Callie found herself flat on her back. Seth sat on the bed beside her, frowning, watching every breath she took. A pillow that must be goose down felt good on her throbbing head.
“No, please. My son.” With every word Callie’s voice lost power. Wrenching against Seth’s hold sent pain through her shoulder until it could have been on fire. The only clear thought in Callie’s head was to get to Connor. To assure him she was still there to care for him. The death of Callie’s parents rushed into her thoughts as if drawn there by her fever. It had hurt so badly. She could not do that to her son. “I’m all he’s got. I have to go to him. He’ll be so afraid.”
“Audra, go get him. Please.” Seth didn’t let go.
Tears burned salt into Callie’s eyes. She couldn’t stay in bed when Connor might be terrified, confused.
Audra stood. “I’ll be right back with Connor.”
“I’m from Texas,” Callie said as Audra disappeared out the door.
“You mean you’re tough enough to get out of this bed?” Seth asked.
“I mean I’m tough enough to do anything I have to do.”
“I like having a tough wife. It’s gonna be fun being married to you.”
Callie narrowed her eyes at her polecat husband. Her good-looking polecat who was grinning at her like he didn’t have a brain in his head.
And she’d married him, so what did that say about her?
“Audra, where are you with Connor?” He raised his voice, not afraid to call for help when he needed it.
“Connor tipped a plate of food onto himself.” Audra’s voice wafted up the stairs. “Ethan has him in the sink, giving him a bath. I’ll be a few minutes.”
Seth was going to have to face his wife all on his own. He lifted one hand from Callie’s left shoulder. He’d been careful to avoid bumping the deep puncture wound on that arm, but even the least little touch had to hurt.
She showed no signs of getting up or attacking. In fact, he was sorely afraid she might hit him with something even worse—salt water. Tears threatened to roll down out of her eyes, and he couldn’t stand it.
Seth rested the hand not busy restraining her on Callie’s cheek. The woman was battered for a fact, and Seth knew a fever was a mighty serious thing.
After all, hadn’t a fever just killed Audra’s husband a few months back?
He brushed her hair back off her forehead and the silk of it tickled a memory Seth couldn’t quite bring into focus. He had touched her hair before, though, he knew it. Of course they’d had a son together. He reckoned there’d been a chance to touch her hair mixed up in that somewhere.
God, please protect and heal my wife.
The prayer startled Seth into straightening from where he leaned close to his pretty wife.
It wasn’t a prayer exactly. Instead it was almost a . . . a still, small voice inside him. It seemed to come from the same place he’d heard the cavern call to him and the storm last night and the wolves. It was almost like God gave him the prayer, rather than Seth giving one to God. It was a wonderful, powerful feeling. On the other hand, Seth wasn’t sure having more voices inside him was a good thing. But if one of those voices was God, maybe it was all right. Maybe he’d better listen.
He tried to search for that voice again, tried to pray on his own, and he stumbled over it and turned back to Callie before he could look for his soul and instead find emptiness. Or maybe find so many fears they amounted to madness.
“You had a fever when I first met you.” Callie spoke quietly. Neither crying nor attacking. Seth decided he needed to pray more and longer and harder—if he could just remember how.
“Is that why I don’t remember things?”
Callie shrugged and her shoulder lifting under his hand was a wonder to him. He had a wife. A beautiful wife.
“Why do I have a fever?”
A sick wife.
“Are my wounds infected? Is that what’s causing the fever, Seth?” She was losing that killer tone to her voice.
Much as he didn’t want his wife to be killing mad at him, he thought it was a bad sign.
Seth inspected the deepest cut on her forehead. “It looks a little red, but probably just from being sore. I don’t think it’s infected. The puncture wound on your arm is the worst injury.” She had a hundred small scrapes that added up to a lot of pain and blood loss, but nothing fatal.
“My arm feels terrible.” Her arm rose about an inch before she quit moving. She had on a long-sleeved flannel nightgown.
“It’s the worst of your injuries.” Seth, pursuing only medical interests, unbuttoned the gown. Callie didn’t seem to notice, which was probably best for Seth, survival-wise.
The row of little white buttons on the soft white flannel distracted him for a few seconds and he sort of lost focus on his purpose and unfastened a few more of them than was strictly necessary. He caught himself and returned to doctoring. “It’s got a bandage tied around it to protect the stitches.”
Easing the wide neck of her nightgown aside, baring her unbelievably smooth, lovely shoulder, he squelched a few non-doctoring thoughts and reached for the bandage high on her arm. As gently as possible he untied the knotted strip of cloth.
“Stitches?” Callie frowned. “I’ve never had stitches before.”
“Me neither.” Seth hated the thought.
“Yes, you have. I helped pull the threads out.”
Seth looked up and saw how flushed she was. Annoyed at him for forgetting something else important. And so sick. Her eyes had a watery, glazed look. He leaned forward and kissed the red apple of her cheek slowly, gently, alarmed at the waves of heat coming off of her.
God, help her. Heal her. Make me smart enough to know what to do.
The prayer came again from that hollow place inside him. He took a second to think that maybe, just maybe, God was inside him somewhere. Looking for his soul.
Seth hoped fervently God could locate it.
Pulling the bandage aside gently in case it was stuck to her arm, he uncovered the puncture wound. It was red and angry looking. The six stitches looked painful with the swollen skin acting like it wanted to bust the threads apart.
“Did I get shot?” Cassie studied the ugly wound without mentioning that Seth had partially disrobed her. Yep, she was sick all right.
Seth remembered very clearly that he’d told her the answer to her question already. He’d have pointed that out if he wasn’t bent on sweet-talking her into
being his wife in all ways.
“No, you didn’t get shot. But the stagecoach was real shot up. There was a piece of wood, a big splinter that stabbed you here. The doctor put in some stitches.”
“Seth, it’s so ugly.” Callie looked away from her wound and stared at him, her black eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so ugly.”
Her lower lip trembled. Seth thought she looked ridiculously young. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, honey.”
He ran his hand into her hair, mindful of the stitched-up places on her scalp. She looked like she’d lost a fight with a whole barn full of wildcats, and she was still so beautiful he could hardly draw a breath.
The fever had made her hair hot. He left off touching her, though it wasn’t easy, and reached for the basin of cool water Audra had on the bedside table. Wringing the cloth out thoroughly, he folded it and rested it on her forehead.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips and her eyes drifted closed. Seth wished she’d sleep some more. The healing power of sleep.
He thought of his nightmare. Sleep had been a torment for him most of his life.
“Here’s Connor.” Audra came in, and Callie’s eyes snapped open and went to the chunky little guy.
Callie reached out her arms toward him, and a tiny gasp of pain, quickly suppressed, escaped her lips. “Let me have him.”
Seth doubted very much Callie could hold the husky boy, but with all her Texas gumption she’d never admit anything was too much for her. He went to Audra, whisked Connor out of her hands, and carried him around the bed to sit beside Callie, keeping Connor’s weight yet within reaching distance.
With a trembling hand Callie reached for Connor.
“Papapapa!” Connor dove at Callie. Seth almost lost him, but managed to keep the boy from pouncing on his wounded ma.
Seth moved so Connor was sitting right beside Callie. Her arm went around the baby’s waist. “Hi, little guy. I’m sorry I’m not taking care of you today.”
Connor laughed and slapped Callie on the belly a few times before Seth could stop him.
“You can see he’s fine, Callie. Let him go back to playing with Maggie.” Audra came around the bed to fetch him. “She threw a fit when I took him away.”
With a few more touches as if to be sure he was there, touches too feeble to go with his fiery little wife, Callie nodded and Audra scooped Connor up.
“I’m going to get some broth for you.” Audra settled Connor on her hip like an old hand at mothering, which she was.
“And some water, please.”
“We’ve got some here beside the basin.” Seth wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it before Callie had to ask. “I’ll help you get a drink.”
“You need to rest.” Audra headed for the door. She looked back just as she stepped into the hall. “We’re going to take very good care of you, Callie. You’ll be up and about in no time.”
Audra was gone, and Callie looked after her son as if it might be the last time she saw him. Considering Callie’s fearlessness, it about scared Seth into an early grave.
“We need to make sure you drink plenty of water.” He slid an arm behind Callie’s shoulders and raised her with aching slowness just enough for her to drink.
She took several sips and then stopped. “Enough. I’m afraid I’ll be sick.”
Seth lowered her back to the bed. Her eyes seemed to lose focus; her lids fell closed as if they weighed ten pounds apiece and her body went limp.
It was the most frightening thing Seth had ever seen, and that included watching his own flesh burn.
“Audra!”
Seth wasn’t sure how he sounded, but it must’ve been bad because footsteps pounded up the stairs. Audra was running by the time she got in the room. She looked at Callie, then at Seth.
“She passed out. I think she’s hotter than she was, too.”
That might just seem so because Seth had gone stone-cold with terror. He thought of his cave and wanted it desperately. Things made sense down there. The empty part of himself wasn’t so noticeable in the pitch-dark.
He didn’t have to face hard things. When life got to bothering him, Seth had always run to ground in that cave. He knew that place better than anyone. That gave him power.
Then he saw himself knowing all the holes he could sneak into and never be found. For the first time ever, that struck him as being cowardly. It was like a rabbit hole. A mighty big rabbit hole. And he was mighty small thinking like a scared rabbit and hiding from trouble when he had a wife and child to care for.
“We have to get her fever down.” Audra came to Seth’s side of the bed. “You have to go, Seth. I’m going to give her a cool bath, and it’s not fitting that you should be here.”
“I’m her husband! I can be here.” Seth knew even as he said it that Callie wouldn’t like it one bit if he helped undress her. Only being so feverish that she couldn’t tell what was going on had kept her from objecting when he’d checked her arm.
“Go, Seth. Please. You don’t even remember her. It’s not fitting that you should help me bathe her.” A crash came from downstairs, followed by childish laughter and a dismayed shout from Ethan that echoed up the stairs.
“Go save Ethan. I promise I’ll call if I need help.”
Hesitating, Seth looked at his deathly still wife.
“Close the door on your way out, Seth.”
Seth felt like he was tearing flesh when he turned away from Callie. Worried sick, he went to the door. Looking back he saw Audra wringing out the cloth Seth had used on Callie’s forehead. His wife was in good hands. But he couldn’t help but feel like he was turning his back on her for the second time. And that felt unforgivable.
Chapter
12
Seth walked down the stairs feeling as if he was leaving his wife on the battlefield. He stepped into the kitchen, and it was full of people Seth hadn’t even known existed a few months ago. That included everyone but Ethan. Connor, Ethan’s girls, and Heath.
Seth looked at Ethan and thought maybe Ethan was reading his mind. Life was changing too fast.
“How is she?” Ethan had his baby Lily in his arms. Maggie was toddling around the kitchen. Ethan sat at the head of the table, close to the back door. There was a lean-to over it so they could open the door without letting the wind howl in. Seth heard the blizzard, still raging. He thought of how sick Callie was, and he was tempted to answer the voices he heard howling.
He and Ethan had gone out and checked the cattle before the sun rose and did what chores they could, along with Steele and the other hands. But today was a day to stay inside as much as possible.
Heath sat on the floor in front of the big iron stove. He held out his arms to block Maggie when the little girl staggered toward the burning heat, which explained what Heath was doing down there.
Connor was standing up, clinging to a chair leg, bouncing his fat little legs as if he was just wild to chase after Maggie. He turned when Seth came in, squealed and smiled. Took a step toward Seth and sat down hard. His little bottom lip came out and his eyes got wide.
Seth scooped up his son and sat down on the floor. The lively little boy in his arms distracted him at least a little bit from how sick Callie was.
“She’s got a fever. High fever.” Seth looked at Connor. Connor grinned a wild grin and Seth felt his heart breaking. It wasn’t a bad feeling. More like maybe Seth’s heart was hard and this was cracking the shell around it and letting him bleed feelings that weren’t rooted in nightmares and dark caverns and fire.
“Ma had a high fever when she died,” Heath said.
Seth decided he’d concentrate on his new family to keep himself from charging up those stairs and demanding Audra let him help take care of Callie.
“I’m sorry things aren’t like you hoped they’d be, Heath,” Seth said. “We don’t have much money, and if we did sell the ranch, it wouldn’t bring you enough to live on for very long. All we can do is have you make your home with u
s, and let us take care of you.”
Connor stood up between Seth’s legs and reached for Heath so suddenly that Seth almost let him fall. The boy was plumb slippery.
“I can take care of myself.” Heath leaned back, his arms folded defiantly.
“I can see you’re a knowing boy. But you can’t really want to be cast out of this house, even with cash money in your pockets. Not during a blizzard. You’ve got to stay for a while. We may get a few more nice days and even a thaw or two, but winter is coming fast and this is no time to be riding around the countryside.”
Connor reached for Heath as if he’d known him all his life. Seth eased the baby down onto his hands and knees and let him crawl away.
Heath’s eyes shifted to the door, rattled now and then by a gust of wind—even with the lean-to. As tight as Rafe had built it, snow still got in under the door, and the floor was cold away from the stove.
“Do you have any other family?” Ethan asked. “Grandparents? When the weather clears, we could help you go to them if you wanted. Did your ma have any brothers or sisters?”
“Never heard of none. Ma talked about a little brother who died young. He was buried in a little graveyard near our house along with her parents. We lived in the house she grew up in.” Heath rested his head back against the cabin wall in a way that looked defeated. “And she was afeared she was dying. She’d have told me if there was anywhere to go. Matter of fact, she did tell me. That’s what the letter was for, to let me know what needed to be done.”
Heath pulled Connor onto his lap and let the boy bounce. “From what she said, I don’t think Pa told her about you, but she figured it out somehow.”
“Maybe he talked in his sleep or left some kind of papers lying around.”
“Don’t reckon Pa knew how to read or write. Leastways not overly.”
Seth tried to get Connor to look at him and realized he was a little bit jealous of the boy wanting Heath. But why not? Connor had known Seth only a few hours longer. “Ma taught Rafe a little reading, and Rafe taught me and Ethan. Ma’d lost interest in it by the time we were old enough. It was handy in the war and I got a mite better at it.”
Mary Connealy - [Kincaid Brides 03] Page 9
