M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (13 page)

He scooped her up in his arms, her head lolling limply and her arms dangling cumbersomely. Shifting her weight, he knew mounting would be no easy task. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a coach and turned to find the stage cresting the hill. Blake flagged him down.

“What happened?” the coachman called hopping down from his perch. He opened the door before Blake could ask for assistance, earning Blake’s instant respect and gratitude. There was no question in the man’s mind whether he should help, no hesitation whatsoever.

Blake lifted her into the coach. It was empty.

“She fell off her horse and hit her head,” Blake said laying her across the seat. “How far to Des Moines?”

“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.”

“I’ll ride ahead and get the doctor,” Blake said picking up Wunner’s reins and mounting the mare.

Meredith moaned, her eyes fluttering but not
opening. “Blake?” she uttered.

“Rest.
The coach will take you into town.”

She made no acknowledgment that she had heard him.

9

Blake sat beside the bed looking into her heart-shaped face. Her skin which normally wore a healthy sun-glowed tan appeared pale against the white pillow and sheet. Her light red hair hung lifelessly in a braid that lay across her shoulder like a heavy rope. Blake stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip. She had such a lovely face though not classically beautiful. Her skin was flawless, translucent. Her lips were by no means wide. Their delicate shape was sensual, inviting. The dark fringe of lashes contrasted against her pale cheek.

He silently pleaded with the Powers that Be to open her eyelids so he could drown in the depths of her large gray eyes. Her eyes were unnaturally expressive. He only had to look into her eyes to know what she thought.

“Open your eyes, my treasure. I know I didn’t want to be married but this was not the way I want out of it.” No marriage proposal would ever pass from his lips, he had sworn hundreds of times, so how did this woman manage to get under his skin? He didn’t love her. He would never love another woman. But there was no denying he felt an indefinable connection to her. He liked her, he reluctantly admitted that. She had enough sense to know when he wanted to be left alone to his own thoughts. Her silence was not misplaced fear of him. She was no wilted flower afraid to stand up for herself; in fact, he suspected she rather enjoyed their fights. He did. If she would only wake up and send a few well-placed barbs his way, he would feel an enormous sense of relief.

He picked up her hand and held it at his rough, unshaven cheek. His eyes closed as he drew her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Wake up and let me make love to you,” he whispered cursing himself for not making love to her every night since they married. Legally, he had every right but he had been so mad, truthfully more at himself than at her for his predicament, that he wouldn’t do it. 

For a brief moment, he actually considered remaining married. Quickly, he dismissed the idea. The last thing he needed was a wife who always wanted him to account for his time; someone who expected him home every night for supper; someone who would expect to know every detail of his life.

Offhandedly, Blake wondered how long it had been since anyone had cared enough to ask him for an accounting of his time. Not since his childhood, he supposed.  He released Meredith’s hand and rubbed his brow. Surely, that wasn’t true. Would it be so bad to have someone care enough to wonder about him when he was absent?

Meredith’s head jerked away from the pungent ammonia odor as the doctor held the smelling salts below her nose. A moan escaped her lips as she rolled to her side, both hands lifting to cradle her head. The doctor pulled one hand away and waved the vial under her nose again. Her head recoiled of its own volition. Meredith’s moans hiccupped like sobs. Again, he held it under her nose with the same results.

“Open your eyes if you want me to stop.”

“Mama…,” she mumbled groggily without opening her eyes. “My head hurts.”

Blake reached down and stroked her hair. “Wake up, Meredith.”

She didn’t respond at all.

Once more the doctor held the vial to her nose. She rolled onto her back, her eyes opening slightly before closing again.

“Is she always so stubborn?” Dr. Rick Henry asked Blake.

Blake smiled remembering how she stubbornly refused to say her vows the way they were written. He nodded his head. “Always.”

“I guess I have no choice but give her the salts again.”

Her hand reached out to guard her face. “You won’t if you want to keep your teeth.”

Blake chuckled softly. “She’s not as sweet as she looks.”

Meredith’s eyelids lifted to a hooded position. Her unsteady focus moved around the unfamiliar room. She pulled the duvet up to her neck when she realized she wore her nightgown.

“Hello, dear.
How do you feel?” the doctor asked.

“Why couldn’t you leave me there? I was with my parents.”

The doctor didn’t comprehend why she would want to remain asleep to stay with her parents but Blake did. He felt a moment’s regret over going after the doctor when she began to stir this morning. She hadn’t moved since she fainted two days earlier.

“Let’s see if you can sit up so I can give you a little
exam.”

The doctor and Blake helped her sit up, propping the pillows behind her.

“Tell me your name.”

“Meredith.”

“And your last name?” he asked.

Meredith cast a look of defiance at Blake before answering. “Vande Linde.”

“And who is this with me?”

“That’s Blake. He’s my….”

“Friend,” Blake provided.

Meredith turned her gaze to him, her head tilting slightly in question.
“Friends? Is that what we are? Of the countless words in the English language,
friend
is not the one that pops into mind when I think of our… relationship.”

Dr. Henry cleared his throat. “In Mr. Warner’s defense, he has been quite worried about you.”

“Guilt, I’m sure. Does a friend tell you he wished he’d never met you?”

He raked his hands through his shaggy hair and scratched his scalp with a chagrinned countenance. “Not one of my finer moments, I admit.”

“No, but probably one of your more candid ones,” she snapped.

Blake suppressed the grin that threatened to pique her ire. God, it was good to see the hellion alive and well and full of vim and vinegar.

“Be quiet and let Dr. Henry get on with his examination. I’m sure he has better things to do than save your life.”

She eyed him with annoyance, his jab rolling off her back unfettered. “You just wish you could get rid of me that easily.”

“Actually,” he said drawing out his words. “That’s the one way I found over the last two days, I don’t want to get rid of you.”

Meredith hadn’t expected him to say something nice – or reasonably nice. It left her speechless.

“If I may,” Rick Henry said holding his stethoscope toward her.

Meredith’s shoulders dropped a fraction as the doctor leaned closer to her and moved his wooden stethoscope to various places on her chest. “You have a beautiful heart,” he said in a tone Blake thought sounded oily – as if he was trying to seduce her.

“What makes her heart so beautiful?” Blake asked dryly.

“That’s just my way of saying it makes all the right sounds in all the right places,” he said lightly, his eyes never leaving her face. “Now let me play a little peekaboo with those big blue eyes.”

“Gray,” Blake corrected under his breath as the doctor cover one eye and alternately shaded the other. A moment later, he covered the second one and shaded then uncovered the first.

“Your pupils are dilating and constricting just like they should. No more double vision or nausea?”

She shook her head and grimaced as the movement made her head throb. “Just a headache.”

“That’s to be expected. I can give you some laudanum if it’s bad but laudanum is a bit in short supply, so if you think you can do without it…” he trailed off leaving the rest implied.

“Give her the laudanum,” Blake stated.

“No, Blake, I’m all right. I can do without.”

“Give her the damn laudanum!” Blake shouted over her. “If it’s a matter of money….”

“It’s not the money. The supplies are all going to the troops.”

“Blake, for God’s sake, stop. No one cares that you’re richer than Midas. I don’t need it.”

He turned angry eyes on her. “This is not about money. This is about you being in pain.”

Meredith fell silent. Did he care about her? She reached out a hand and set it on his forearm. “I’m fine. My head only throbs when I move around or we’re yelling.”

“
Willow bark tea,” Blake said suddenly as his hand covered hers. “Surely you can’t object to giving her a bit of willow tea for her pain.”

The handsome blond doctor’s face became deadly serious. “Giving her willow bark tea could put her back into her coma. I’ve seen injuries unclog themselves when you give willow tea. The best thing we can do for Miss Vande Linde is let her rest and heal.”

“There has to be something you can give her.”

“Blake, please stop.”

“Stop? How can you asked me to stop when I’m trying to keep you from hurting? This is my fault. I didn’t mean to push you so hard.”

The doctor turned on Blake, his hands clenched into fists. “You pushed her? You’re twice her size.”

Blake’s hands flew up in a defensive gesture breaking the contact with Meredith. “I didn’t shove her. I kept her in the saddle all day. We’ve had a couple of fourteen hour days. She was exhausted and fell asleep.”

“Fourteen hours a day! Are you mad?”

“We’re just in a hurry to get where were going so he can get rid of me,” she said, her tone challenging Blake to deny it. “I can be… difficult.”

Blake and Meredith’s eyes met and locked on each other. Blake’s expression softened as he realized she had no reason to assume otherwise.

“I certainly never wanted you hurt or dead.”

“I know that.”

Dr. Henry pulled out his timepiece and checked the time. “See that Miss Vande Linde gets plenty of rest. I’ll have them send up some chicken broth. If she keeps it down, she can try solids in a few hours. If she gets out of bed, I want your hand glued to her elbow as she’s probably going to have some dizziness.”

“Am I not in the room?” Meredith asked sarcastically. “Am I too simple to understand simple instructions?”

The doctor chuckled. “Good luck.”

Blake stopped him before he left, peeled a few bills from a roll of money he pulled from his pocket and paid the man.

“You can leave, too. I need to use the chamber pot.”

Blake crossed to the far side of her bed to a very square-ish throne like chair and lifted the seat to reveal a second seat with a hole in it. He stood there looking very proud of himself as if he invented the commode chair.

“You thought of everything,” she said, her lips twitching upward. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stared pointedly at him. “You can leave now.”

“Like glue,” he said moving to her bedside and folding back the covers.
“Unless you’re too simple to understand simple instructions.”

She huffed in frustration.

“I’ll just walk you to it, leave and walk you back in a couple of minutes.”

With a curt nod, she acquiesced and a few minutes later he was helping her back into bed.

“You don’t know how worried I’ve been. When you started stirring this morning you should’ve seen me running for the doctor. I nearly fell down the stairs in my haste.”

“I would have liked to have seen that,” she said impishly as she watched for his reaction.

Blake shook his head, one side of his lips curling up in a half smile. “You would have liked to have seen me fall down the stairs?”

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt but I definitely
would have enjoyed seeing you tumble head over heels.”

“I should have smothered you with a pillow when I had a chance.”

She sighed inwardly at his engaging smile as her heart beat a rapid tattoo. Why did he have to be so good-looking?

“Not only would you not have to divorce me then but all of your lady friends would enjoy offering you sympathy over the loss.”

Her heart sunk strangely at the thought of Blake with other women and she wondered if he courted someone special at home.

Blake would have liked to have told her the women he knew rarely needed an excuse to offer themselves to him and being a widower would actually give him a valid excuse to avoid any entanglements for a year… Or more.

“How long was I asleep?”

“A couple of days. Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember the sensation of falling but I don’t remember hitting the ground or anything that happened until that man was shoving ammonia under my nose.”

Blake thought about teasing her, claiming she had professed undying love for him and begging him not to divorce her. But with his luck with women and how they all wanted to marry a rich, reasonably good-looking man, he was afraid he might accidentally strike a chord he preferred to avoid. Not that Meredith had given him any indication she bore any strong feelings but annoyance for him. Still it was not a joking matter.

“Ah, then you don’t remember how dashing and heroic I was as I saved you from certain death and the
way I wrestled alligators to pick you up out of the swamp before you drown.”

Meredith smiled reluctantly but rolled her eyes at him. “You probably yelled at me to get up until you realized I wasn’t.”

“You really don’t remember? You were conscious for at least five minutes after the fall.”