When the Heart Heals (28 page)

T
he side of Rosemary's face felt wet. Bleeding. She was bleeding. Fighting for breath, she touched her cheek and then brought her hand in front of her eyes. Her fingers were clean.

She heard whining next to her ear. A warm tongue lapped her face.

“Bodie. Praise God.” Her voice emerged in a croak. She rolled onto her back, gasping at the pain when she attempted to sit. Falling back on the earthen floor, she drew shallow breaths as she turned her head to each side to survey the surrounding damage.

The potting table that had knocked her to the ground lay to her left. Broken pots rested beside her body. When she ran her hands down her skirt, dirt grated against her palms. Her midriff throbbed.

Bodie poked his nose under her arm and licked her chin. Rosemary made another effort to sit, this time succeeding. The mattock she'd used to threaten the intruder pressed against her hip. She pushed the makeshift weapon to one side, then gingerly prodded her ribs.
Please, Lord, let nothing be broken.

When her thoughts cleared, she remembered she'd been preparing a poultice for Mrs. Fielder when she heard her dog's distress cries. How much time had passed? A few minutes? An hour? A glance out of one of the windows showed the sun high overhead.

Reaching up, she grasped the edge of the remaining upright table and dragged herself to her feet, then doubled over, clutching her middle. Bodie pressed himself against her skirt like a burr when she stumbled into the house.

The comfrey poultice lay on the table where she'd left it. The edges had dried to a cracked green paste. After collapsing onto a chair, Rosemary reached down and ran her hands over the dog's body, feeling for wounds. She patted his head with relief upon finding nothing amiss.

“Go drink some water. Then we'll decide what to do next,” she said in a whispery voice.

Bodie wagged his tail and ran to his water dish.

In spite of her discomfort, she chuckled to herself at her one-way conversation with the dog. If anyone overheard her, they'd think she'd injured her head instead of her ribs.

Without leaving the chair, she folded the poultice into a rectangle, covering the dry edges with a fresh strip of muslin. If she refreshed the surface with water, the comfrey would still be effective. Then all she'd have to do would be to somehow get herself back to the office to tell Elijah what happened. He could deliver the poultice.

She took a shallow breath and pushed herself to her feet. She must have moaned, because Bodie stopping drinking and ran to her.

“I'm fine. Just getting the kettle and a plate.”

With one hand clutching her middle, she placed the poultice in a pie pan and dribbled warm water over the muslin covering. As she turned to replace the kettle on the stove,
Bodie's fur rose. Growling, he stalked to the front of the house, reaching the entrance just as someone pounded on the door frame.

“Rosemary!”

When she heard Elijah's shout, she tried to call out, but couldn't draw enough breath to produce more than a squeak. He hammered at the door again, harder this time. “Are you there?” His voice carried an edge of panic.

She crossed the sitting room as quickly as she could.

Once she'd unfastened the lock, he barreled inside and wrapped his arms around her. “What happened? You've been away for more than two hours.”

She pulled back from his embrace, wincing at the pain. “Someone . . . was in the greenhouse. I fell.”

His eyes widened as he surveyed her. From his shocked expression, she knew she must look worse overall than merely the stains she could see on her skirt. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. With tender strokes, he brushed the folded linen over her cheeks, then showed her grains of dirt clinging to the white surface.

“You fell inside the greenhouse?”

“Yes.” She failed in an attempt to straighten her shoulders.

Elijah slipped one arm around her waist to support her while he guided her to the settee. Once she was seated, he drew a chair close and stroked her forehead. His brow creased.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Here.” She placed her hand above her abdomen. “I can't draw a full breath.”

He leaned close in order to hear her. She yearned to reach up and cup her hand over the back of his head. Instead, she gripped her fingers together in her lap.

“I should examine your ribs.”

Her cheeks heated. “We're alone here. It wouldn't be proper.”

“You're a nurse. You know the complications that can arise from a broken rib.” He stood and paced. “If I fetch your sister-in-law, will you allow an examination?”

“We may have to wait until she closes the store.”

He dropped back on the chair. “So be it.”

“Will you take Mrs. Fielder's poultice too? It's on the kitchen table.”

“Yes, nurse.” He shook his head in mock despair. “Now, tell me everything you saw. Then I'll go to the mercantile—and the restaurant.”

Halting between phrases, she told him about hearing Bodie yelp, then whine, and discovering her dog strangling under an intruder's grip. She concluded by saying, “When the man pushed the table over, I think I fell on the mattock.”

Elijah shook his head. “You went after him armed with nothing but a garden tool? How could you be so reckless? He might easily have overpowered you.”

“He was choking Bodie. I had to stop him. I'd do the same thing again.”

“My fierce little Rosemary. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.”

“You won't lose me.”

Within minutes after the clock chimed five, Faith bustled through Rosemary's front door and hurried into the sitting room.

Elijah stood when she entered. “Mrs. Saxon. Thank you for coming.”

She smiled at him. “I'd have been here sooner, but I didn't have anyone to watch the store. The woodstove regulars went
home early today.” She plunked herself on the settee next to Rosemary. “Dr. Stewart's worried about you, and so am I. Let me help you into your shift so he can check your ribs. Can you climb the stairs to your room?”

“Mercy sakes, yes. After resting all afternoon, I feel better now.”

Elijah cleared his throat. “I want to be sure. Call me when you're ready.”

Faith took Rosemary's arm and headed for the staircase. “We won't be long.”

Bodie scooted out from under the settee and raced ahead of them into the bedroom. Rosemary chuckled.

“He must think I'm going to sleep.”

“You winced when you said that.” Faith studied Rosemary's face when they reached the top of the stairs. “Dr. Stewart's afraid you may have a broken rib.”

“I hope not.” She pressed her hand over her midriff. Her face grew warm at the thought of Elijah touching her in such an intimate spot. Once they closed the bedroom door behind them, she met Faith's gaze. “I'm mortified beyond belief at having him examine me.” She kept her voice low so he couldn't overhear. “I loosened my stays after he left to fetch you, and I'm sure nothing's broken.”

“He won't rest until he knows for certain you're all right. You should have seen him when he came to the mercantile. The poor man was distraught.”

Rosemary blew out a shallow breath. “Then let's get this over with.” She unfastened the buttons on her bodice and, with Faith's help, slipped out of her rust-colored calico dress. Once she'd donned a fresh shift, she perched on the edge of the bed.

Bodie curled up at her feet, watching her with bright eyes. She leaned forward to smooth his fur, but bent only partway before pain at her waist sent her upright.

Faith raised an “I told you so” eyebrow, and opened the door. “Dr. Stewart, you may come upstairs now.”

Within moments, he stood in the doorway clutching his medical bag. “You'll need to stretch out so I can feel your ribs.” His face looked as red as Rosemary's felt.

She nodded and allowed Faith to swing her legs onto the quilt as she lay back. As soon as Elijah approached, she turned her head away and closed her eyes. His warm hands burned through her shift as he probed her ribs. For a moment, she let her thoughts drift into forbidden territory, then bit the inside of her lip to banish them. She hoped he wouldn't decide to take her pulse—he'd know how his touch affected her.

The warmth on her skin cooled as he stepped away from the bed. “Nothing's broken.”

Her eyes flew open. She turned her head in his direction and said, “That's what I thought.”

“But you bruised your diaphragm. You flinched when I pressed the area. You'll need a day or two of rest.” Color rose in his face. “No tight . . . undergarments until you've recovered.”

He backed toward the door. At that moment, Bodie sprang to his feet and raced past him down the stairs, barking.

“I hope that's Thaddeus.” Elijah pivoted toward the hall.

Rosemary covered her chest with her arms. “The sheriff?”

“I asked him to come after I spoke to Mrs. Saxon.” He followed Bodie down the stairs.

Rosemary struggled to sit, her curls tumbling over her shoulders. “Faith, would you please close the door? I need to get dressed.”

Faith obeyed, then helped her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “We'll slip your dress back on and arrange your hair. The pins have come loose.”

She lifted her hand and felt the back of her head. “There's
dirt in my hair. My word, I must look dreadful.” She felt herself flushing again. “I wish Elijah hadn't seen me like this.”

“He's too concerned about you to notice how you look.” Faith held up the calico dress. “Put this on, then if you'll sit in the chair, I'll brush your hair and braid it.”

Rosemary buttoned her garment and moved to the slipper chair next to the window. She heard male voices below, and surmised Elijah and the sheriff were deciding what to do next. “Hurry, please. I don't want them making plans without asking me first.”

“Thaddeus came to talk to you. I'm sure they'll wait as long as necessary.” Faith took a comb from the top of a chest of drawers and removed tangles from Rosemary's hair, then brushed the curls smooth. With swift motions, she lifted three sections of hair and plaited them, then wound the braids together and pinned them in place. “Now you're presentable. Let's go see what he has to say.”

Elijah and the sheriff stopped talking the moment Rosemary and Faith entered the sitting room. Rosemary eyed the two of them. From the guilty looks on their faces, she'd been the topic of their discussion.

She crossed to the settee and lowered herself to the upholstered seat. “Sheriff Cooper. I understand Dr. Stewart told you what happened this morning.”

“Yup.” He slapped his hat against his leg. “I reckon you surprised the feller. He wouldn't have figured on you coming home when you did. Good thing you wasn't hurt worse.”

“I'm sure he's the same person who's been harassing me all along. I don't believe he intended to injure me.”

The sheriff set his jaw in a rigid line. “With respect, miss, what you believe don't count for much right now. Fact is,
you're injured. He trespassed, attacked your dog, and pitched a table at you. Each one's agin the law.” He glanced at Elijah. “Want to show me this greenhouse?”

Rosemary placed her hands on the upholstered seat and pushed herself to her feet. “It's my greenhouse. I'll take you there.”

“You should rest. There's no reason I can't show him where to look.”

“There's one good reason. You weren't there when I surprised him.” Rosemary leaned against one arm of the settee and summoned her most determined voice.

“Then let me help you.” Elijah cupped his hand around her waist, raising a flush in her cheeks. Without her stays, she felt the pressure of each of his fingers through the fabric of her dress.

“Don't matter to me who comes, so long as we git a move on. Going to be dusk soon.” Sheriff Cooper inclined his head toward Rosemary. “Front door or back?”