The Bride Price (38 page)

He lifted her into his arms. “I know,
sweetheart.” Jamie carried her upstairs, his voice shaking as he
settled her gently on the bed and said, “I need to get your
clothing off you.”

Sophie stood and braced her good arm against
the bedpost so that Jamie could unbutton her gown. She dropped her
forehead against her arm and took a deep breath. With shaky hands,
Jamie tugged and tore at the corset, in an effort to give her
breathing room. As he pushed the garment from her hips, Sophie
stumbled.

“Sophie?” Jamie caught her as she lost
consciousness and laid her on the bed, his heart racing in
fear.

The door flew open, bringing Michael,
followed closely by Christine.

“She’s been shot,” Jamie said. “And now,
she’s unconscious. I don’t know how bad the wound is.”

“Step aside, son.”

Jamie felt Christine’s hand tugging gently on
his arm. He looked up and stepped back to give Michael space to
work. Pacing the room, Jamie felt as though his world was slipping
away, reminders of their future and Sophie’s disease slowly ripping
the life from her.

“James?”

“Hm?”

“It’s a flesh wound. There is no bullet and
with a few stitches, Sophie should be fine.” Michael patted his
shoulder.

Jamie rushed to her side and stroked her
cheek.

Michael caught his eye and said, “I think I
should try and stitch the wound while she isn’t lucid.”

Jamie nodded. “All right, will you please
hurry?”

At Jamie’s insistence, Michael washed his
hands and then prepared a needle for Sophie’s wound. “You’re both
going to have to hold her down in case she wakes up.”

Jamie stretched out beside her, pinning her
good arm behind his back. He wrapped one arm under her neck and the
other around her waist, while Christine sat at her feet just in
case she began to kick. Michael pulled a chair next to the bed and
got her arm into position.

“Ready?” Michael asked Jamie.

Tears filling his eyes, he nodded and held
Sophie a little tighter. As soon as the needle hit her flesh,
Sophie woke with a scream, and tried to pull her body away. She
pounded Jamie’s back with the arm trapped behind him in an attempt
to get him to move.

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Michael has to
close the wound.”

Sophie screamed again, her head thrashing
against the pillow.

Jamie grimaced. “Hurry, Michael.”

Christine sat on her feet to keep them still,
and sweat beaded her forehead from the effort.

“I’m almost done.” Michael kept his head down
and inserted the needle again.

“Jamie!” Sophie begged.

“Just relax, Ten-Cow, it’s almost over,”
Jamie whispered.

“Make it stop! Make it
stop
!”

Michael stepped back. “I’m done.”

Jamie loosened his hold and Sophie rolled
toward him. She threw up, her sobbing uncontrollable. Jamie watched
her agony, certain the pain would be overwhelming. Jamie held her
hair and stroked her back until her spasms subsided. Christine
cleaned the blood from her arm and bandaged the wound, tight enough
to stop the bleeding, while Jamie climbed off the bed and followed
Michael to the door.

“I’ll make a poultice,” Michael said. “We’ll
begin putting that on her in the morning. For now, I can give her
laudanum or morphine for the pain and to help her sleep.”

“No,” Sophie groaned.

Jamie winced. “I’ll find you if her pain
worsens.”

Michael nodded and then left them to tend to
Sophie. A tense twenty minutes passed as they worked to control
Sophie’s pain and calm her frayed nerves. Jamie lifted Sophie from
the bed and carried her to one of the chairs.

“Jamie, you should get cleaned up.” Christine
gathered the dirty rags. “I’ll retrieve fresh linens.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“
It’s okay, Jamie,” Sophie rasped.

Jamie leaned over and stroked her cheek. “I
don’t want to leave you, sweetheart.”

“You have puke all over you.” Sophie took a
deep breath. “I’ll be fine. I think the worst is over, and you
really need to change.

Jamie sighed. “All right. But I’ll wait until
Christine returns with sheets.”

Christine took the cue and left the room.

Sophie nodded. “I can live with that.” She
squeezed her eyes shut and reached for her arm. “This really,
really hurts.”

Jamie pulled her hand away. “I know.”

Christine returned with Betty in tow, and
Jamie leaned over and kissed Sophie’s cheek. “I’ll be back
soon.”

“Fine.”

Jamie left the room and made his way out the
front door. As he stepped off the back porch on his way to the
stables, he was met by Andrew. “We got him.”

“The shooter?”

Andrew nodded. “Clayton is interrogating him
now.”

Jamie slapped his shoulder. “Well done. Thank
you.”

“How’s Sophie?”

“The bullet clipped her arm.” Jamie dragged a
hand down his face. “She needed stitches but I think she’ll be
fine.”

“What happened to you?” Andrew pointed to the
stain on the front of his shirt.

Jamie grimaced. “Sophie got sick.”

Andrew stepped back slightly. “Do you have a
change of clothing?”

“I do. I think I’m going to make a stop at
the lake and then check in with Clayton.”

Andrew nodded. “Well, if you need anything,
let me know.”

Jamie grabbed a horse and made his way out to
the lake. After cleaning up, he rode back to the Madden’s. Met by
their housekeeper, Jamie was shown into the parlor, and instructed
to wait. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“Jamie?”

Turning, he reached his hand out as Clayton
walked in. “What did you find out?”

“The man said his name was Victor Cary.”

“Was
? What happened?”

Clayton nodded. “He’s dead.”

Jamie crossed his arms. “How?”

“I don’t know what happened. He was speaking
and then white foam spilled from his mouth. He fell from the chair
and didn’t move again.”

“Poison,” Jamie whispered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jamie pinched the bridge of his
nose. “Are we sure he was the shooter?”

“Yes. Andrew confiscated his gun—”

Jamie’s head whipped up, cutting Clayton’s
answer off. “Where is the gun?”

Clayton frowned. “Andrew said he disposed of
it.”

Jamie relaxed. “Ah, well, great.”

Clayton crossed his arms. “Is there something
you want to tell me?”

“No, it appears you and Andrew have
everything in hand. Please let me know if you need anything from
me.” Jamie forced a smile. “I should get back to Sophie. I’ll let
myself out.”

Jamie jogged back to the Wades house and
rushed inside. Climbing the stairs, he met Christine on the
landing. “How is she?”

“In pain,” Christine said. “She seems more
comfortable since we changed the bedding and put her in a
nightgown, but she’s putting up a brave front.”

Jamie smiled and squeezed Christine’s arm.
“Thank you. I’ll take over from here.”

Christine smiled. “I’ll be back to check on
her in an hour.”

“You’re a good friend, Christine.” Jamie let
himself into the room and found Sophie teetering at the edge of the
bed. Rushing to her side, he settled his hands on either side of
her hips to steady her. “Ten-Cow, what’s wrong?”

She scowled up at him. “I’m thirsty. Oh. And
I was
shot
.”

“Sweetheart, get back into bed. I’ll get you
a glass of water, and anything else you need.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to forgive.” He handed her the
water. “Clayton interrogated the shooter.”

“And?” Sophie climbed back onto the bed.

“It was Victor Cary—and he’s dead.”

Sophie grabbed his arm before he could leave
her side. “How?”

“Poison, as far as I can tell.”

Jamie filled her in on his conversation with
Clayton.

Sophie gasped. “That sounds so very secret
black ops or something.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

Sophie shook her head. “How did the shooter
get the poison?”

“He must have hidden a cyanide capsule in his
mouth.”

“Wow.” Sophie sipped her water. “How do you
think he knew about me?”

Jamie paused for a minute.

“Jamie?”

Jamie sat heavily on the bed. “Do you
remember that secret donation to the company last year?”

“The one you had to have your accountant
track?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes. It was from the Cary
family.”

Sophie sat up with a gasp. “
The
Cary
family?”

“Yes.”

“The ‘let’s buy up every political seat in
Washington State’ Cary family?”

“Yes.”

“Holy cow, Jamie. That’s huge.” Sophie
frowned. “Is that why Brian was so freaked out when he called?”

Jamie nodded. “He wanted to keep the money,
but I made sure it was all returned with a note of ‘thanks but no
thanks.’”

Sophie rubbed her forehead. “Do you think
Cary knew the connection before they sent the money?”

Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know, but it would
seem so.”

“Bernadette says I’m to make sure history
stays the same. Granted, I know a lot about the war, but I don’t
know everything. I suppose if Victor Cary is dead, I won’t have any
trouble keeping things on track, will I?”

Jamie dragged his hands down his face. “Nope,
and it means I don’t have to kill him.”

“James William,” Sophie admonished. “When did
you become so violent?”

Jamie shrugged. “Probably when you got
shot.”

“I’m going to be fine.” Sophie sighed. “I
wonder what Andrew did with the gun. I’m dying to know if it’s from
our time.”

“I’ll ask Andrew tomorrow to fill in the
blanks. For now, I want you to rest.”

“I feel like that’s all I ever do.” Sophie
raised her hand to her bandage.

Jamie caught her hand and pulled it away.
“Don’t touch it, baby.”

“It burns.”

“Do you want me to get you something?” Jamie
frowned when Sophie squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Why didn’t
you tell me it was that bad?” Sophie burst into tears, and Jamie
pulled her into his arms briefly. “I’ll be right back.”

Once he found the doctor, he rushed back to
the bedroom. “Michael’s bringing morphine.”

She nodded with a whimper. Her door opened,
and Michael walked in, holding a syringe that reminded Jamie of
several horror movies he’d seen.

“Is that a new needle?”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “As a matter of
fact, it is. They’re good for several uses, but this one is
new.”

Jamie relaxed. “Good. Please promise me you
will only use this needle on Sophie. No one else.”

The doctor frowned. “Seems like a waste to
me.”

“Michael, please. It’s important to me.”

“Well, I suppose, if that’s your wish.”
Michael administered the morphine and then left them alone
again.

Jamie stretched out beside her and watched
her eyes turn to glass. “How’s the pain now, love?”

Sophie turned her head to face him. “I think
it’s still there but I don’t care.”

Jamie chuckled and pulled her close, sweeping
her hair away from her cheek. He held her until she fell asleep,
and watched her for several minutes before letting himself join her
in slumber.

* * *

Jamie woke the next morning to find Sophie
climbing back into bed. “Sophie Jane, what are you doing?”

“I was thirsty.” Placing her hand on his
chest, she pushed him back onto the bed. “No, don’t get up. I’m
perfectly capable of getting some water.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It hurts.”

Jamie sat up. “Do I need to get you more pain
meds?”

Sophie shook her head. “No. My headache is
almost as bad as my arm, so I’d rather refrain.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

Sophie rubbed her forehead. “I wish we had
some milder pain meds.”

“Wasn’t aspirin invented in this
century?”

Sophie sighed and folded herself into Jamie’s
chest. “Yes, but the buffered version isn’t created for another
thirty years or so, and in Germany, which won’t help Americans for
several years. Plus, at the beginning it did more harm than good,
so it wouldn’t be an option anyway.”

Jamie chuckled and kissed her head. Sophie
raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your brain’s ability to hold that much
information astounds me.”

Sophie smiled. “I do love to astound
you.”

“Baby, your arm’s bleeding.” Jamie pushed
himself from the bed and pulled her with him. “Come sit in the
chair so I can look at it.”

Sophie sat by the fireplace and tried not to
wince as Jamie unwrapped her blood-soaked bandage. “It’s puckered
and red. Do you feel sick? Like, fever sick.”

Shaking her head, she swallowed but didn’t
respond.

“I’ll be right back.” Jamie dressed quickly
and rushed to find Michael, who followed him back to the room,
bandages and poultice in hand.

Jamie knelt next to Sophie’s chair and
waited, rather impatiently, for Michael to examine her arm. At
Sophie’s groan, Jamie took her hand and held it to his lips. “Just
look at me, Ten-Cow.”

She nodded and turned tear-filled eyes toward
him.

“It doesn’t appear to be infected.” Michael
squinted to get a better look. “Yet. The poultice should help with
the pain, Sophie, and also help ward off infection.”

Jamie stood and took the supplies from the
doctor’s hands. “I’ll take care of her.”

Michael nodded. “All right. Sophie, if you
need more morphine, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks, Michael.”

Jamie waited for him to leave the room and
then went to work on her arm. “You can break down now,
Ten-Cow.”

“I’m fine.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t
contradict her. When he finished cleaning and bandaging her wound,
he lifted her and settled her onto his lap. “I’ve got you.”