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THEY STOPPED TWICE to soak Thomas in creeks. Two more times, Elizabeth fell asleep. First with Eaton, and later, with Mac. She had not wished to ride with him, but he had insisted, and she had been too tired to argue.
Now, as Issy sat atop a horse and before them on the trail, Elizabeth was pulled awake and back to the present.
“We became worried when you did not come back,” Issy said.
“We did not want to waste time coming home.” Mac slipped an angry glare at Elizabeth.
“And is he alright?” Her face tightened with concern.
“No, he is not,” Eaton said. “Elizabeth is not much better.”
“I am fine,” she whispered.
But she knew she was not. Her head swam in frightening fogs. Her mind seemed to weigh heavy in water-filled tunnels. A cut on her shin and another on her arm stung like fire. The battering she had taken that morning from the fall off the horse helped not.
“Ride ahead,” Eaton said. “Tell the others we are coming. Get tub baths ready for both. Cold water for Thomas. I need to get the fever down again.”
Issy turned and galloped toward home.
Fifteen minutes later they entered the yard at Fearnought Farms. Chaos swirled around them. Elizabeth was hugged by Colina and Sarah, William and Hannah. She was passed along to Meggie and Issy. She thought Philippe would never let her go. Still, the fog did not lift.
Thomas was whisked away. She tried to protest, but she could not find the words.
She was taken to the kitchen and behind a curtain strung across the corner. Colina pulled her leggings off.
Hannah unbraided the last of her hair. Colina pulled the shirt up and over her head.
The woman gasped. She lifted the rood in her fingers.
Behind her, Sarah and Hannah’s eyes widened in surprise.
“’Tis a long story.” Elizabeth took it from her. She pressed her lips to it. “I will tell you someday. And yes, Thomas knows of it.”
She put the rood back around her neck. She was pressed into a tub of warm water. Colina washed her cuts and clucked over her bruises. Sarah and Hannah washed her hair and warred with the knots until Elizabeth told them to simply cut the hair off.
“I wish other things were so easily fixed,” she murmured.
She was pulled from the water. Colina was careful to press the towel against her, but the cloth still stung. Once she was dry, Hannah wrapped her in a blanket. Mac carried her upstairs and lay her to a bed.
Colina applied a salve to her cuts and then dressed her in a white, clean chemise. Elizabeth lifted the neck and smelled deep.
No dirt. No soil.
Colina set a navy bed jacket and a beige petticoat to the back of a chair. “’Tis time enough to get ye back into stays in the next day or two after a rest. Until then, these ‘twill provide modesty enough as ye rest.”
Colina sat beside her.
The mattress swayed.
Elizabeth flattened her hands and pressed them to either side of her hips.
Soft. Downy.
A pillow lay to her right. She eased to her side and lay her head to the feathery softness. The smell of fresh soap and lavender soaked her. Her eyes stung. Her chest tightened.
“I thought we would never get back. I thought . . .”
She had thought she would be an Indian chief’s wife. She had thought to sleep forever in the savage’s arms on the hard, hard ground.
She closed her eyes against all the fears.
This is home, and I can never leave with Eaton.
She could not leave with Papa either.
“I will be back with some white willow tea for the pain.” Colina kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. “And I will bring word of Thomas.”
I will stay awake until I hear of him.
But she could not.
Cups of tea came and went. People did as well. Meggie sat and nursed Sarah’s babe. What was the child’s name?
Issy sewed. Philippe cried softly and worked his beads. Someone lay beside her and cocooned her in tight arms. She thought it was Colina, but she was not certain. Later, Fingal lay at her back.
The sun lowered into the sky. It rose into the morning.
And then, she awakened to find Eaton sitting on a chair beside her bed. His eyes dragged with the need for sleep. Wrinkles twitched either side of his sharp nose.
Thomas?
She lifted to her elbow.
Eaton pressed her back to the pillow. “Slow, Elizabeth. You are exhausted.”
“Tomas?”
He sighed. “’Tis why I am here. I know you need your rest.” He clenched his fingers in the gap between his knees. “But there is a bit of a problem.”
The fear rolled her to her back. “The fever?”
“It comes and goes, but it is not as high as yesterday.”
The relief swept her. “Thank God.”
“The thing of it is, he seems to have no will to fight this.”
No will? After everything they had been through?
“He speaks of someone named Iron Gun?”
“He is an Indian chief.”
“And of Catharine and Dougald?”
“His wife and child. They were killed by Indians.”
The man nodded. “Well, I hate to ask you. I know you need your rest, but I do not know what else to do.”
She lifted to her elbow again. When his hand reached forward, she pushed it away. “Tell me what is wrong, Eaton. You know I cannot lose him.”
He firmed up his chin. “You need to come sit with him, for he is convinced you are no longer here.”
“Not here?”
“Aye, and that you are, in fact, the wife of this Iron Gun. And Elizabeth?” He groused long, fine fingers across a light brown, stubbly chin. He shifted in the chair.
“Just say it, Eaton.”
“He believes he has failed you as he did Catharine and Dougald.”
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HIS LIDS FLUTTERED. He could find nae strength to move more. At least the heat coursing through him had eased.
I have just been through the worst battle of my life.
And he was certain it had lasted days and nights, for sunshine and darkness had cycled outside the window. People had come and gone. He had been bathed more than once in cold water. He had fought against being fed teas and broths. Father Bergier had come and gone and come again.
And Elizabeth had rarely left his side. At first, he had not recognized her. Her hair had been cut to her shoulders, and she wore an old bed jacket and petticoat. But then, she had held his hand and spoken to him, and he knew ‘twas her. Later, she prayed, and she told him over and over again that she was here with him and that she had not married Iron Gun.
“I have no need of a rescue, Thomas McQueen. And you certainly did not fail me.”
And he realized in his weakness he had fuddled the past and present.
Later, she changed into regular clothes and shuffled around the room. She swathed his forehead and arms. She plied him with teas and broths which he now readily drank from her hands.
She lay atop the covers and scooted against his side. Fingal lay against his other. Elizabeth wrapped her arm carefully over Thomas’ chest, slept, and Thomas thought for the first time that he might battle his way back to her.
He at least felt willing to try.
He forced his eyes open.
Where was she?
He looked around the room. Outside, ‘twas nearing noon.
“So you finally decided to come back to us.”
‘Twas the same well-groomed fellow that had cut Thomas’ jaw open and scoured his feet while in the cave. He liked him not then, and he dinna like him now.
“Ye are Elizabeth’s doctor,” he mumbled.
“I would not call myself that exactly,” he laughed. “‘Tis more likely you are her frontiersman.”
He might be if he lived. He was still nae certain that was to happen. “Where is she?”
“She fell asleep beside you earlier. I carried her to a bed upstairs.”
Thomas’ eyes fired hot.
Eaton laughed again. “’Tis good to see you have some life left in you, McQueen.”
“I had nae idea I would have to come home and fight for her still more.”
Eaton sobered. “You will need to fight, but not in the way you think.”
Thomas frowned. He had not the strength to work around tricky problems at the moment, nor to deal with ardent suitors, even if the man had saved his life. “Did ye come to take her from me?”
“I did, but she will not have me. I even offered to marry her and take her home if you made it not.”
Thomas’ ears prickled.
“She refused. She said she would stay here as this is now her home and your family is hers.”
“She has had to fight for a lot.”
“And there is still more to come.”
Thomas frowned.
“’Tis why I need you to get well, McQueen. You cannot fail her now.”
“Speak not in riddles, Sinclair.”
“I have word of her father which I have not yet spoken of to her. When I tell her, she will need all the strength you can give her.”
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BY WEEK’S END, EATON finally agreed to let Thomas out of the room.
He would not, however, allow him to walk on the feet.
“To be carried? Like an invalid?” Thomas railed.
The room had been full of people. Eaton had shooed them all away, including Elizabeth. He had then, quite pointedly, reminded Thomas of what they needed to do.
“I am leaving here soon, and before I do I have to tell Elizabeth of her father. I want you on your feet by then.”
He had decided, despite Dr. Eaton Sinclair’s soft manner, the man was a force to be reckoned with when his back was against a wall.
“Look, Thomas, the burns were not bad. They reached not through the first layer of skin. But you walked on them and cut them further. That needs time to heal.”
“Fine,” Thomas said. “They can carry me to the porch.” His head spun upward. “I will not, however, lay in a bed. I will sit.”
“Fair enough,” Eaton conceded.
“And the goal here, Eaton, is for me to stand on my feet and hold her in my arms.”
“I cannot think of a worthier one.” The man smiled.
“I canna very well be a husband to her if I am maimed.”
“No, you cannot.”
And so, Thomas spent the next week being carried around to various places. Beneath the tree. By the creek. To the dinner table. To the porch in the evening.
Back to his room at night where he and Elizabeth prayed.
Later, he was allowed short rides on Dominic while Elizabeth rode the Indian’s gray horse which she had named Nitichi.
“Foot?” he had cried. “You named her Foot?”
“Oui. And what is wrong with that? You said I could choose any name I wished.”
“Well, yes, but Foot?”
She leaned forward. She patted the black mane. “She was my feet that night as I raced from the mountains to Fearnought Farms.” She looked at him. “She carried me through the dark as the shadows teased and chased. If it had not been for her, you might not be here now.”
He had said no more, not even to ask how she had picked up so many Shawanese words in such a short amount of time.
Two weeks later, while alone in the bedroom with Eaton and Meggie, he slid his feet into a pair of soft moccasins and stood. His legs felt like warm pudding, but the soles stung only a bit. He grabbed Eaton to one side and Meggie to the other and shuffled to the front window and back.
From that day forward, several times a day, one or the other person came to help him walk farther and farther around the room. Later, when he felt confined, Mac or William took him for rides and he walked the meadows and among the trees.
And he swore everyone to secrecy.
“I will surprise, Elizabeth.” And if something happened, and he never walked well again, she would not be disappointed.
Finally, a month and two weeks since he had been brought back to the farm from the cave, he stood to his feet in the bedroom.
“I am ready, Dr. Sinclair.”
The man chuckled. “She will be surprised. She has been at sixes and sevens worried you would never walk again.”
Thomas sighed. “And she would have loved me and married me that way.” He winked. “But this is much better.”
The man laughed. “I am certain it is.” He grabbed Thomas’ shoulder. “You take care of her.”
Thomas’ heart tightened. “I chose a burning to save the lass, and when that dinna happen I nearly walked myself to death to get her home. I am not about to leave her now.”
Or ever.
Eaton nodded. He turned the doorknob and waved his hand toward the main room as if royalty were coming.
Thomas stepped past him.
He heard Elizabeth’s gasp. He turned to the right.
She stood halfway down the stairs.
“Well, Lass,” he chuckled. “Ye look as if your eyes have never seen me walk before.”
Her lashes fluttered against the tears. She launched herself down the stairs and into his arms.
He squeezed her against his chest. He twirled her around. She clung to his neck. She pressed hot, sweet kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose.
He grabbed her head and subdued her twisting. He sank his lips deep into hers.
His gut fired hot.
Around them, the applause was deafening.
And then, Eaton slapped him on the back, and his world came back into focus all too soon.