The next day passed in a blur for Heather. Sterling coaxed her into eating some broth before she pulled the covers over her head once more. She thought she caught the sound of a female voice from the first floor but was too tired to investigate. Sometime the following evening, her room grew blazingly hot. Weak and shaky, she stumbled to the window and threw open the sash.
The frigid breeze swept over her scorching skin, bringing a blessed relief to the oppressive heat. She slumped beneath the open window, her back braced against the wall. Sterling discovered her shivering there and muttered an oath before crossing the room in two long strides.
“You’ll turn yourself into an ice block.”
He stretched above her and shut out the draft, then reached for her. She managed to rise, leaning heavily on his arm. Her teeth chattering, he assisted her into bed.
“How is Gracie?” she asked. “She isn’t sick, is she?”
“She’s fine. Sleeping, as long as we don’t wake her. Have a little faith in me. I’ve kept hundreds of animals and a crew of men alive—I can care for one lively girl for a few days.”
“I do have faith in you.” Her body aches worsened with the tremors rattling her teeth, and she caught his hand. “Do you love her?”
“Of course I love her, Heather. Didn’t you know that?”
“But she’s not y-yours. I don’t want you to r-resent her.”
“Is that why you’re so protective? Because you don’t trust me?”
“I do trust you. But sometimes I’m frightened that you’ll resent being stuck with us.” All her past hurts came rushing back, and she willed him to understand, but she felt as though her chance was slipping away. “It’s a terrible thing to live with people who resent you.”
“Who resented you, Heather?” he asked quietly.
Another time she might have offered a flippant or evasive answer. The question was too personal, too painful to answer. Tonight the weight on her chest lent her words an air of urgency. All evening long she’d had trouble breathing. That’s how her mother had died.
Though she’d been painfully young, the memory had stuck with her even as a child. Her mother’s breathing had grown shallow and labored, until eventually the last breath had left her. What would happen to Gracie if she succumbed to this illness?
“My aunt and uncle never wanted me there,” she said. “My dad said I had to stay because girls need a woman to raise them.”
Sterling frowned sharply, twisting with a quick movement to face her. “He left you?”
“It’s awful to be loved and then be unloved. I don’t ever want Gracie to feel that way.”
“She’ll never feel that way.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
“I trust you.”
She’d gone and muddled everything. She sensed she’d wounded him with her lack of faith. He’d given them a home and sacrificed his future for them, and she’d repaid him by questioning his honor.
He took her hand between his own. Though beads of sweat dampened her forehead, her fingers were chilled, and she welcomed the warmth.
“Heather,” he began. “There’s a part of my character you need to understand. Once I love someone, I love with my whole being. That will never change.”
His low, gravelly voice calmed her worries, and the pressure on her chest eased. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You and Gracie are my life. You could never be a burden.”
She’d insulted this kind, gentle man who’d done nothing but sacrifice for her.
“Rest now,” he ordered. “Gracie needs us both.”
She nodded dumbly, her head dropping almost to his shoulder. She was wholly responsive to his unexpectedly gentle care and didn’t want to look beyond his kindness. The room spun briefly before quickly righting itself.
She’d come to depend on him in a shockingly rapid amount of time. His mere presence gave her an immediate sense of security. There were moments, in her weakened condition, when she wanted to weep at his gentle kindness. Yet as much as she’d come to depend on him, she sensed in him an air of uncertainty. He obviously felt responsible for her, and if she were to confess how much she’d come to rely on him, she feared he’d only feel more trapped than he already was.
She’d only just realized how grievously she’d wronged him, and how much more he deserved.
* * *
Dr. Jones exited the room and set about rolling down his sleeves.
“Is she going to be all right?” Sterling demanded.
The doctor was a tall, gaunt man with jet-black hair that was graying at the temples. He’d emigrated from Wales and retained a slight accent in his speech. He’d been with the town a decade, and the townspeople trusted his service.
“She’s good and sick,” the doctor replied. “But she’s also young and strong. Make her rest. Have her drink water. I’ve brought a tincture of medicine that should help with the fever. If she gets worse, fetch me.”
Years before, Sterling had ridden through a solid week of rain on a cattle drive in Wyoming. Five solid nights with only an hour or two of sleep snatched beneath a leaking tarp. By the sixth day, he’d fallen asleep and slid off his horse. Thankfully none of the other men had been near enough to see the ridiculous sight.
That was the only other time he’d ever experienced this depth of exhaustion. Missing Heather, Gracie was fussy and difficult to console. He’d managed to snatch an hour or two of sleep over the past couple of days on a chair in her room, lest she wake Heather in the middle of the night. Two evenings before he’d let the child fuss through the night without giving in to her demands. To his astonishment, she’d slept the previous night through without waking once. If he had known the solution was that simple, he’d have ignored her requests for “wa” days before.
As it was, his eyes felt gritty and his three-day growth of beard was itching.
Dr. Jones rinsed his hands in the basin. “Don’t forget to get some rest yourself.”
“I’m trying.”
“Children don’t much care if you need a rest, do they?”
“No. They don’t.” Sterling stepped aside and let the doctor pass. “Stay for a cup of coffee?”
“Don’t mind if I do. It’s bitter cold out there.”
Price had taken Gracie to the barn for a change of scenery, and Sterling figured he had about thirty minutes before the man’s good nature ran thin. The boys’ help had been invaluable. They’d grumbled, but they’d pitched in the past few days nonetheless. Sterling was grateful for the chance to get to know each of them better.
All of them, Sterling included, had a renewed respect for Heather and the work she accomplished each day with the child toddling underfoot.
Dishes were scattered across the kitchen table, and Sterling scooped them into his arms. He crossed the floor and dumped them into a sink of chilled water. He gingerly touched the side of the coffeepot and poured two cups of the still-hot brew.
Dr. Jones discreetly swept the crumbs from his seat before lowering himself into it.
Sterling flushed. “We’ve been fit to be tied around here lately.”
“This isn’t the first home I’ve visited when the woman of the house is laid up, and I don’t suppose it will be my last. I’m plenty used to a few crumbs.”
“You’re certain she’s going to be all right?”
The worry he’d carried for the past few days wasn’t easily relinquished. Heather’s nightmares haunted her nights and his days.
“Keep her resting for another few days,” the doctor said. “Otherwise she’s liable to have a relapse. Make sure she drinks lots of fluids. And a little warm milk if she has trouble sleeping in the evenings. I’ll stop by on Tuesday.”
Sterling raked his hands through his hair and stifled a yawn. “Thank you.”
“You rest, as well. I don’t want to have to come back here for you. You Blackwell men are stubborn.”
“I will.” Sterling rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Did you ever come out here when my pa was sick?”
The doc lowered his chin on his chest before looking up. “I did once or twice, but there wasn’t anything to be done.”
“I heard he sent for someone from back East.”
“Desperate men will cling to any chance at a cure.”
“The undertaker said he died of pneumonia.”
“Now, Sterling, you know I can’t go talking about my patients. Not good for business.”
“My pa isn’t around to mind.”
“I didn’t tend him during his final months, so I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know.”
“Did the illness affect his mind? He did a lot of things near the end that were out of character.”
“Your pa had a stroke. He was a proud man, and he didn’t want anyone, least of all anyone from town, seeing him in a weakened condition. Otto was about the only one he’d let near.”
A profound sense of relief brushed over Sterling. At least there was a reason for some of the confusion. His pa had been sick, so he’d let the ranch suffer. There’d been nothing spiteful in his actions. Leaving the ranch to Sterling and Dillon had been his last conciliatory act.
A knock sounded, and Sterling left the doctor to his coffee. Irene stood in the doorway, a covered dish in her hands. “I thought you might be tired of your own cooking.”
“You thought right,” Sterling replied eagerly, grateful for the offering.
He’d grown accustomed to the superior quality of Heather’s cooking. Woodley’s didn’t hold a candle to her breakfasts. His meals were hot and filling, but without a lot of flavor.
Sterling ushered her inside. “Have some coffee. The doc is in the kitchen.”
“It was the least I could do. I feel responsible. My boys were sick the week you three came to church. I figured since I wasn’t ill, I didn’t have to worry about passing it on.”
“The doc says a whole mess of people have come down with the influenza. It’s not your fault.” He grasped the casserole as she unfastened her coat. “I’ll take the supper, if not the apology.”
Irene grinned. “I thought you might. How is the little one?”
“Ornery.”
“I’ve heard that about her before. I don’t know how such a little sweetie could be such trouble. I’ll trade you a couple of my boys for comparison.”
“I’d rather stick with the trouble I know, if you don’t mind.”
“Coward,” Irene admonished with a laugh.
“Absolutely.”
She joined the doctor in the kitchen, and soon Price returned with Gracie. Irene offered to care for her for a few hours while Sterling sat with Heather. He ladled up a cup of broth, and Irene steeped a cup of tea, as well.
He carried the tray upstairs and quietly set it on the side table.
Heather was feverish again. He dipped a rag in water and wrung out the excess, then placed the cool cloth against her forehead.
She sighed and covered his hand with her own, her eyes drifting open. “You look awful.”
He barked out a laugh. “You should talk.”
She grinned, and his heart jerked. Despite the fever, she appeared more lucid than she had in the past two days.
“Irene came to call,” Sterling said. “I think she expected to find us all starving and living in squalor. She brought a casserole.”
“There’s nothing like a good casserole to stave off squalor. I don’t know what Woodley puts in his stew, but it isn’t much.”
The tabby had curled up at her feet. The animal rose up and blinked sleepy eyes before tucking his head near his tail once more.
“The mouser has been good company,” Heather said.
“He’s cleaned out the pantry for you. He leaves his conquests outside the back door as gifts.”
“As long as they’re on the other side of the door, I’m fine with whatever he does.”
His heart lurched in his chest. Something had shifted between the two of them over the past few days, and there was suddenly an intimacy that hadn’t been there before.
“You should rest,” she said, her voice a light caress. “You look exhausted.”
“Irene is watching Gracie. I promised I’d sit with you. You don’t want me to disappoint Irene.”
“How are the sheep?”
The white ruffle of her wrapper brushed against her neck, highlighting her pale complexion.
Sterling chuckled. “The sheep are doing well. Otto is still skeptical, but I think they’re growing on him.”
“I don’t think Otto likes your sheep.”
She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her touch whisper light.
“He’s been a cattleman for thirty years. He doesn’t know how to do anything else.”
“But you think differently.”
“I don’t need to drive cattle to prove I’m a man. I’d rather support my family.”
She rolled to her side and pressed her palms together, then tucked her fingers beneath her chin. “I trust you.”
Her faith in him was humbling, and for a moment he was invincible beneath her sleepy smile. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know. You’re a man of your word.” She yawned and blinked slowly. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you. Do you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
He’d failed plenty of times throughout his life. He’d worked a season on a steamship and discovered that the constant sway of the boat left him nauseous. He’d panned gold in the mountains and come away with nothing but a pile of rocks. He’d left home determined he’d never return.
He’d broken plenty of promises to himself. He’d never break a promise to Heather.
He surveyed her flushed face and adjusted the counterpane over her shoulders. “Don’t worry about anything.”
The wind gusted against the window, bringing a smattering of sleet clattering across the surface. There was a storm on the horizon, and the clouds were building. Heather sensed it too. She woke each night in a sweat, her nightmares filled with fevered searches for Gracie. Both of them knew that until they discovered the truth about where Gracie had come from, nothing was certain. No matter the personal cost, he’d do everything in his power to ensure that she and Gracie stayed together.
That was one promise he meant to keep.
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur for Heather. She drifted in and out of awareness. Most of the time she was blazing hot. Now she was freezing. She yanked the quilts beneath her chin and curled into a tight ball.
Someone touched her forehead, and she turned into the warmth. “I’m cold.”
The bed dipped, and the next instant she was cocooned in a blanket of warmth. “Better?”
“Yes.”
She turned in the night and came right up next to Sterling. He was fully dressed, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. She eased away, but even that slight movement woke him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then turned toward her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“Then go back to sleep.”
“Where is Gracie?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“She’s all right? She’s not sick?”
“Nope. You’re still the only one in the house who’s sick. The doctor said if we were going to catch it, we would have by now. I’m as healthy as a newborn calf and so is Gracie. I have nothing to complain about.”
Heather sighed. Not that he’d voice a complaint even if he had one. He was far too polite, far too honorable. Secure in the knowledge that he was watching out for them both, she slept through the night.
The next morning she awoke refreshed. Her fever had broken, and her appetite was back with a vengeance.
Irene popped her head in the door. “Are you awake?”
“Awake and fretting at this forced confinement.”
“I brought you something.” Irene extended a plate topped with a generous slice of chocolate cake. “You’ve lost weight in the past week.”
“That looks delicious.” Heather forked a bite and groaned. “And tastes delicious. You’re spoiling Sterling, you know. He’s going to be insufferable from now on. He’ll be terribly disappointed in my baking.”
“I have a new respect for that man.” Irene perched on the edge of the bed. “He’s been quite the father this week. He even washed out the nappies.”
“He never!”
“He did. Now lean forward.” Irene plumped the pillow behind her head. “That’s better.”
“I’d like to go downstairs. I need a change of scenery.”
“All right. But you must be quiet.”
“How come?”
“You’ll see.”
Heather shrugged into her wrapper and tightened the belt around her waist. She could tell she’d lost a bit of weight. Unaccustomed to standing, she felt her head spin and she steadied herself. She followed Irene, both of them tiptoeing across the landing.
Irene caught her arm. “This way,” she said.
Irene took the main staircase, and Heather gripped the banister. She’d been ridiculous, sequestering herself in half the house. This stairway was far more spacious and decorative. There was no reason to cling to her half of the home as though she and Sterling were strangers.
Irene paused in the doorway of the parlor. She held one finger over her lips to signal quiet and waved Heather closer.
Sterling rested on his back on the settee, one foot braced on the floor and one hand dangling over the side. Gracie was sprawled over his stomach, her head tucked beneath his chin. The two of them snored softly.
Irene smothered a giggle. “Have you ever seen anything so precious?”
“Never.”
Together they tiptoed past the pair and shared a coffee in the kitchen.
Irene glanced over her shoulder. “He’s even gotten Gracie to sleep through the night. Thank the stars. I thought he was going to fall asleep standing up. Those two are adorable. Gracie is blessed to have the both of you.”
“I’m glad he’s resting,” Heather said. “I wasn’t certain they’d get along well.”
“Gracious, I’ve never seen a cuter pair.” Irene sat back in her chair. “He’s going to be ecstatic to wake and find you feeling better. He’s been beside himself this week.”
Heather stared into the parlor over the rim of her cup. She owed Sterling more than she’d ever be able to repay, but there was no reason she couldn’t at least try.