“It hurts, but I’ll be fine.”
She lifted her head in concern and accidentally knocked his chin with her head. “I’m so sorry!” She pulled a hand out from under his coat to cup his chin. “Are you okay?”
Quincy pulled away from her hand. “I’m fine. Relax.”
Slipping her arm back under his coat, she felt him shift slightly. “Am I making your shoulder hurt worse?”
“Not at all.”
She nodded as she took a deep breath, drawing his scent in again, and relaxing completely.
* * *
Awakened by distant gunfire, Quincy could see the sun rising on the horizon. He shifted as the arousal he felt earlier suddenly peaked again.
His shoulder throbbed, mostly because he held Victoria close. He had lied to her about his pain level before they fell asleep, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, and although his sleep was intermittent, her breasts pushing against his chest made it difficult to think straight. He didn’t want to move. It took him several hours, but he was finally able to sleep, and now he was awake and aroused as her hands stroked his back, obviously of their own free will.
“Victoria?” he whispered. “We need to go.”
She groaned. “Sleep. More sleep,” she muttered.
He chuckled, which seemed to shake her out of her slumber. She sat up quickly.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
“Hi,” she said on a yawn. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, thank you.”
She reached out to him, but he deflected her touch and she dropped her hand. “How’s your shoulder and your chin?”
“My chin is perfectly fine; however, my shoulder is not.”
“Let me have a look and then we’ll split the last power bar.”
Slipping his jacket and shirt from his shoulders, he felt goose bumps forming on his chest as he sat as still as possible and watched her pull the bandage away.
“I think the ointment’s helping, or at the very least, it’s not making it worse. I’ll change the dressing, but that’s it for my bandages, so I’m hoping we can make it to your brother’s quickly.”
Quinn nodded and let her tend to him. When she was finished, she helped him redress and then once again handed him the larger portion of the power bar.
“Why is my portion always bigger, little rebel?”
Victoria cocked her head to the side. “Because, less than two days ago, I had the yummiest steak and garlic mashed potatoes this side of the Mason Dixon, not to mention crème brulee for dessert. Can you say the same?”
His stomach rumbled—loudly—in response.
“Sorry. That probably made it worse.” Her slightly skewed smile, however, said something altogether different. “Eat your tasty soy treat.” She groaned after a particularly small bite. “What I wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee.”
“Chris will have one waiting and ready,” Quincy assured her.
“You seem quite confident in your brother.”
Quincy grinned. “Actually, his housekeeper. She’s a miracle worker with coffee.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” Victoria stood quickly, and Quincy laughed. After tacking up the horses, she helped him climb into the saddle before mounting her own horse. They stopped only once to share the rest of the pretzels and for Quincy to take some Advil.
Arriving in D.C. just before dinner, Victoria followed Quincy to a quiet street, relieved when he finally pulled the horses to a stop. She glanced up and noticed the front of a beautiful redbrick home, however, she didn’t have time to admire her surroundings as she dismounted and went to help Quincy. He almost fell off the horse.
“Quinn, are you okay?” She could feel the heat pouring off him. “Oh, Gus, you’re burning up. Let’s get you inside.”
Steadying him as they tripped up the porch steps, she knocked on the front door and was taken aback when the man in the painting opened the door. Just as tall as Quincy, but not quite as wide as the tree trunk she was supporting. “Are you Christopher?”
“Yes. May I help you?” She watched as the man’s face registered who she was holding. “Quinn? Brother, with that beard, I hardly recognized you.”
“Very heavy man here. Getting heavier,” she groaned.
“Right, sorry. Hannah!” Christopher turned and yelled before relieving Victoria of her burden.
Couldn’t be.
“What’s wrong, Knight?”
Hearing the thick Kiwi accent of her missing roommate, Victoria’s heart raced as she watched the tiny woman, chestnut brown hair pulled into a loose chignon, walk into the foyer and glance her way.
“No! Victoria!”
Victoria’s suddenly tight chest and queasy stomach made it difficult for her to breathe. She grasped her side as she sat down hard on the floor and tried not to panic.
“Hannah?” Christopher asked.
Hannah knelt beside Victoria as she glanced up at her husband. “It’s Victoria, Knight.”
Victoria stared into the familiar hazel eyes, the soft features of Hannah’s oval face comforting after so much uncertainty.
“Your college roommate?”
“Yes, sweetheart.” Then, addressing Victoria, she asked gently, “How did you find Quinn?”
Victoria couldn’t speak—she had started to hyperventilate.
Hannah wrapped her arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm. “Victoria, listen to me. Listen to my voice. Breathe. Deep and slow. Deep and slow. That’s it. Good girl. Let’s get you upstairs.”
Victoria squeezed Hannah’s hand as they stood and turned to make their way up the stairs. Christopher was already halfway up with his brother, and Victoria watched every movement as she followed him closely. She let Hannah lead her toward one of their guest rooms, while Christopher put his brother in the one across the hall.
Victoria had to stop herself from following Quincy, but was grateful that Hannah seemed to pick up on her concern and didn’t press for details. Victoria refused to leave the hallway until Christopher returned from tending to Quincy.
“I’m going to get Clayton and the doctor,” Christopher said as he closed Quincy’s door.
Standing with Hannah’s arm around her waist, Victoria nodded, relieved at Christopher’s sense of urgency.
“Okay, love. Ask Em to come as well, please? Oh!” Hannah grabbed his arm. “And get Gwen. She and Andrew aren’t going back to Harrisburg for a few days. She’ll want to see him.”
Christopher lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “Anyone else, sweetheart? The neighbors? Or perhaps the parish.”
“Aren’t you a dag?” Hannah’s New Zealand expressions always sounded funny, but Christopher just smiled as she continued, “It’s not my fault your family is huge, is it? Which reminds me! You’ll need to send a message to your parents. They are going to be so excited!”
“I hadn’t thought of that, sweetheart.” He nodded toward the grandfather clock sitting in the hallway. “I have been standing here watching the clock grow closer to the time the telegraph office closes its doors, wondering if Mrs. Putnam will make her strawberry scones for breakfast.”
Hannah snorted. “Married less than a year, and you’ve suddenly developed a decent sense of humor. The world can thank me later.”
Christopher chuckled before he kissed her cheek and left the girls in the hallway.
Victoria stepped through the bedroom door and tried to take in the large space, sparsely furnished and cooler than she might have expected without central air-conditioning. A bed, slightly larger than a twin, sat against the wall near the hallway, and a tall wardrobe stood next to it. A bureau with a porcelain bowl and pitcher sat in between the double windows on the opposite side of the room.
Victoria leaned against one of the posts of the bed and sighed. “Where am I? What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you pregnant? Why are you pregnant?”
Hannah laid her hands over her belly. “When a mummy and a daddy love e
ach other very much—”
“Oh, stop,” Victoria admonished, but couldn’t help but laugh.
“There’s so much to tell you.”
“Apparently. But, why am I here?” Victoria put her hand to her forehead and rubbed. “Where am I? I’m not really in the past, am I? No, there’s just no way I could be.”
Hannah reached out and squeezed her arm. “You are, Victoria. 1864 to be exact.”
Victoria shook her head. “Not possible.”
Hannah opened the wardrobe and poked her head inside. “Do you know that you’re not the only one?”
“You mean, besides you?”
“Yes.”
Victoria sat on the edge of the bed. “Who else is here?”
“Emma.”
Victoria stood again. “Shut up.”
“No, you shut up,” Hannah retorted. “But, that’s not all.”
“Of course not.” Victoria sighed as she sat a little more heavily on the bed.
“Jamie and Sophie are as well.”
Victoria frowned. “Isn’t that Emma’s sister?”
Hannah pulled a robe from the armoire and handed it to her. “Yes.”
Victoria squeezed her temples. “Holy shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I have so many questions.” Victoria ran her hands over the intricate cover on the bed.
Hannah laid her hands on Victoria’s shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “I know, but right now, I’m going to organize a bath for you and then we’ll talk okay?”
Pushing herself from the bed, Victoria nodded. “Oh, I have something for you.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Victoria pulled Hannah’s bracelet from her jeans and handed it to her.
Hannah let out a quiet squeal. “I cannot believe you found it.” She held it to her chest. “It’s all I have of them.” Victoria smiled gently, and Hannah wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ll get your bath ready.”
Victoria nodded and watched her leave the room. Unsure how long Hannah would be, and worried about Quincy, she quietly crossed the hall and entered his room. Leaning over him to feel his forehead, her worry built when she felt it was very hot. He took her by surprise when he reached up to gently take her hand.
“Hi, Gus. You’re awake.” She squeezed his hand gently. “You’re really warm. How are you feeling?”
His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Water.”
Pouring some into a glass, she held his head so he could sip and when he tried to gulp, pulled back. “Just sips.”
Setting the glass beside the bed when he was finished, she laid his head gently on the pillow and wiped his mouth.
“Where am I?” he rasped.
“Your brother’s home. He went to get the doctor, who should be here soon. When he leaves, I’ll give you some more of those tablets, okay?”
He gripped her hand. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll stay until your brother gets back.” She stroked his hair from his forehead.
“No, stay all night.”
Victoria giggled. “Uh. No. Hannah is organizing a bath for me, and I’m sorry, I have to be honest, that trumps you for the moment. You did make me sleep in the dirt after all.”
Quinn chuckled, which turned into a cough.
“Shh, sorry. Relax,” she whispered.
Once again, he took her hand and held it close to his chest. Victoria heard a slight noise and turned her head toward the hall. Hannah stood silently in the doorway, smiling.
“Is the bath ready?” Victoria asked.
“Not yet. I’ll find you when it is.”
“Thanks.”
EVEN THOUGH QUINN fell asleep, Victoria stayed, as promised, until Christopher returned with the doctor. She left the room to let them tend to him and made her way back into the hallway. Hannah stood with an incredibly beautiful blonde, who she recognized as Emma from all the photos in their dorm room. A tall blond man, who looked eerily like Orlando Bloom, stood with an arm firmly around Emma’s waist. Hannah introduced her to Emma and her husband, Clayton, and Victoria felt immediately welcome.
“Are you ready?” Hannah asked.
Victoria nodded. “Definitely.”
Hannah led Victoria back into the guest room and Victoria could smell the orange-scented water the moment she walked inside. “Yum.”
“I’ll let you have your bath and come back in a bit to help you dress.”
“Help me dress?” Then it registered and she said, “Oh, right.”
Hannah chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”
“And if I have to... you know?”
Reaching under the bed, Hannah pulled out an ornately painted bowl.
“No!” Victoria cried. “It’s bad enough I had to pee in the woods. I cannot believe I have to pee in a bowl. That is disgusting.”
Hannah laughed. “I’m with you, sister, but it’s what we got. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Removing her clothes as quickly as she could, Victoria slid into the warm bath with a deep sigh. Bliss.
She submerged herself completely and washed every inch of dirt from her body. She’d never loved bathing more, but of course, she’d never been this filthy. She leaned her head against the back of the tub, closed her eyes, and tried not to dream of her green-eyed devil. It didn’t last long. Startled out of her daydream by Quincy’s pain-filled yell from the other room, she sat up in fright.
What are they doing to him?
Pausing for a moment, she heard no further sound, so she leaned back again.
Another yell. Jumping from the bath, she nearly slipped on the hardwood floor as she grabbed the towel from the end of the bed. Finding the robe Hannah retrieved for her earlier on the chair by the fireplace, she pulled it on quickly, tied the sash, and then wrapped her wet hair in the towel like a turban. She was still slightly wet, but when she heard him yell again, she pulled the robe tighter and ran across the hall. A short, robust, older man stood over him and appeared to be digging something into his shoulder.
“What are you doing to him?” she demanded.
The doctor turned in surprise. “Ma’am, you should not be in here.”
She held her hand out. “Stop!”
He ignored her and turned back to Quincy. “Ma’am, please leave us.”
“No! I asked you what you were doing to him. You can’t just dig your fingers into his wound. It’ll get more infected.”
“I must determine the extent of the damage.”
She fisted her hands at her sides. “Did you even wash your hands?”
“I know what I’m doing, little lady,” the doctor said patronizingly. “I have removed several bullets in my day. Why don’t you just run along, and I’ll let you know how he’s doing when I’m finished.”
The doctor dug his fingers in again and Quincy yelled in pain. Although Victoria could see he wasn’t completely lucid, he also wasn’t unconscious, which meant he could feel everything. Spurred on by another groan from Quincy, she frantically searched the room. Locating an iron fireplace poker, she picked it up and balanced it like a sword. “Get your hands off him immediately, you quack.”
The doctor raised his arms in surrender. “Now, just calm down, Miss.”
“I said, get your hands off him. Get out. You’re not going to touch him again. Get out!”
Since he probably thought she was mad anyway, Victoria crossed her eyes to drive home the doctor’s opinion and hissed as he quickly made his escape. She dropped the poker, hearing the loud clatter, rather than watching it fall, and rushed to Quinn’s side. “Shh, Gus. It’s okay. I’m here,” she whispered as she leaned over him and felt his forehead.
Quinn calmed almost immediately and fell asleep. It took a little longer for Victoria to bring her racing heart under control, and she hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down her face until the stress of the past day caught up to her—in spades. As she let herself cry, she realized she cared about this man far more than she’d ev
er cared about anyone before, the fear of his possible harm shaking her to her core. She laid her head gently on his chest and heard the strong beat of his heart, allowing the rhythm to soothe her. Sitting up quickly when Hannah rushed into the room, followed by Christopher, Victoria saw the surprise on her friend’s face at her appearance.
“Victoria?” Hannah said slowly. “What’s going on?”
“That disgusting man had his filthy hands inside his wounds and Quincy was in a great deal of pain,” Victoria seethed.
“He’s a doctor, ma’am,” Christopher said.
Victoria turned on him. “How could you allow some fat butcher to come and tend to your brother? Do you hate him?”
Christopher shrugged in confusion. “He’s the best in the city.”
“Best in the city, my ass! He is a hack, a quack, and any other ack you want to insert. He’s no doctor.”
Christopher looked helplessly at Hannah who smiled gently and said, “Knight, we need Stephen.”
Victoria shook her head. “Who’s Stephen, Hannah? I will not subject him to a murderer.”
“Tori. Calm down.” Hannah used her hated nickname, which brought Victoria up short.
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “I need you to focus on the situation at hand, lovey. Not the doctor.” Hannah waved her husband out of the room. Closing the door behind Christopher, she turned back to Victoria. “Victoria, you’re battling right now. I understand that you’re upset, but Christopher is going to fix this, okay? Stephen Paxton is a close friend who, coincidentally, was also sent back from the future. He’s an excellent doctor and surgeon, and happens to be in Harrisburg right now, which is a quick train ride away.”
Victoria crossed her arms with a glare. “Meaning?”
Hannah pulled her arms apart. “Meaning we can have him here by dinner tomorrow.”
Victoria wiped the tears from her face. “I don’t want him in any more pain, Hannah.”
“Stephen will take care of him, I promise. Okay?”
Victoria stared at her friend before nodding her head in acquiescence.
“I’ll be right back. I’ll make sure Chris is on top of the message to Stephen.” Hannah kissed her cheek quickly and then left the room.
Once Hannah left, Victoria made her way to Quincy, once again laying her head on his chest. She thought she felt him stroke her hair, but when she looked up, he appeared to be asleep, so she assumed it was her imagination. She sat in one of the chairs and laid her hand gently on Quincy’s arm. As she stroked it tenderly, she took his hand with her other, and squeezed.
The Rebel Bride (Civil War Brides Series, #5) Page 5
