The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2) (11 page)

~Chapter Seventeen~

Ella was so tired of being tired. She vowed to stay awake long enough to at least speak to the man who’d been haunting her dreams.

She opened her mouth to speak to him but was unable to find her voice. Instead, she just nodded when he offered her a cup, then drank greedily.

“
Thank you,” she croaked in a cracking, scratchy voice that reminded her of her grandmother.

“
You’re welcome.” His voice was so rich and smooth compared to hers.

She scowled, and for some reason, the handsome man at her bedside chuckled.

She scrunched up her nose and twisted her lips into a snarl, making him laugh again.

Defeated, she covered her face with her hands and fell back against the pillows. This was not how she’d hoped the conversation would go, but now that it had already turned sour, there was no reason to stave off her own personal mortification and deny herself comfort. She dropped her hands to her sides and swallowed the gravel that was lodged in her throat. “Could you help me?”

He paused in whatever task he’d been doing with regard to her sheets and turned his full attention to her. “Yes?”

She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his deep, brown eyes as she asked this. “I need—” she pointed to the painted white metal bowl across the room.

His smile seemed to irritate her, but the mortification caused by his amusement at her request seemed far better than the mortification she’d face if he
didn’t
help her and she... Her face heated in embarrassment at the thought.

“
Don’t,” he whispered, running his hand through her hair.

A few minutes later, she was ready to wander back into the black abyss of rest and forget all about how he’d just helped her with such a private matter.

“Ella?”

She sighed but refused to open her eyes and look at him. “Yes?”

“How did you know I’d help?”

“
You always do.”

There was a brief pause, then, “So you know who I am?”

“Yes, the man of my dreams.” She shook her head. She’d meant to say
in
, in her dreams, but was too tired now to try to correct her mistake and fell asleep.

***

Jack stood frozen. He was sure she hadn’t meant it that way, but... He raked his hand through his hair and tried to put it all together. Was he really the man she’d dreamed of marrying? Or was she seeing him when she woke up and then dreaming about him? Considering the situation, it must be the latter circumstance. He sighed. How unfortunate she didn’t remember his name or that they had not only met, but were married.

He lowered himself into a nearby chair. At least she’d remembered him and that he’d helped her before. That was a start.

The afternoon passed quickly, with Ella waking up every hour and a half. Each time, he hoped she’d remember him or give him a clue about what else she remembered, but she didn’t seem as interested in him as he was in her. He scrubbed a hand over his face. She still wore Allison’s chemise. After she’d told him that she remembered him, and possibly had recollections of her other brief snatches of being awake, he’d been reluctant to have her change her garments. Likely, she’d protest or be uncomfortable around him, and that was the last thing he wanted for her right now.

The following day was just as productive where Ella was concerned. She woke up regularly,   choked down the tea when he refused to give her only water, and mumbled a few incoherent phrases. Names mainly. He couldn’t help frowning at the irony that all the names she’d said were those of men: Daniel Coleman, Stephan Ritz, and Albert Flank. He wondered who they were and why she was saying
their
names instead of his, but he let it go. There were far more important things to concern himself with. Such as her progress. And her progress was good.

The wound on her leg had completely closed up with a hearty scab over the top. Each day after that, the skin around it looked better and the wound itself was looking a bit smaller. He was very pleased. Especially that the foul odor from her infection was now gone, too. Just more proof that the infection was gone and her leg was healing.

But it would still take some time before she’d be able to walk on it again, since a fair amount of the muscle had been eaten away. If she ever regained enough strength to wake up, that is. Saving Grace had told him it could be a few days, even with the medicine, before her fever would be gone and she’d have the strength to stay awake and regain her full memory. He just had to be patient.

He bent forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead, thankful she was still alive. He straightened in his chair and glanced out at the sun from the window. Dinner would be here soon, and so would Ella’s next time of being awake.

Dinner didn’t arrive, however, and despite it seeming greedy on his end, he frowned. He knew it was only out of generosity that Wes had taken to making sure something was brought to Jack and Ella, but it would have been nice had the man told him nothing would be delivered tonight. He was certain that Ella might like something more fulfilling than tea and water.

He jerked open the door to reveal a very stunned Allison standing just outside the door beside a casual-looking Wes.

“I was just...”

Wes chuckled. “Are you planning to let us in?”

Jack took a step back, then off to the side to allow them to enter. He furrowed his brow when he caught sight of the dishes arranged on Wes’ tray. “Are the two of you planning to join us for dinner?” he ventured.

“
No, just Allison.” Wes put the tray down on the table. “You’ll be dining by yourself.”

Jack stared at Wes, dumbfounded.

“What he means is, we’ll be having dinner in your room tonight and you’ll be dining in ours.”

“
No.”

Wes walked over to him. “Jack, you’ve spent days on end in here. You need to spend some time outside of this room.”

“I did. I went to see Dark Moon,” he reminded Wes.

“
That doesn’t count.” He dropped his voice. “This was Allison’s idea, and once she takes an idea into her mind, there isn’t any way to sway her.”

“
Just because you can’t stand up to your wife, Wes, doesn’t mean that
I
have to abide by her demands.”

Wes’ blue eyes turned to chips of ice. “Be mindful what you say, Jack. My wife never denied me intimacies and sought to spend her wedding night outside of my company.”

Jack’s face heated.

“
Now,” Wes continued, his tone softening. “We shall dine with Ella tonight, and if she wakes up, Allison can help her any way she might need. You go next door and eat—do not interrupt me, I know you haven’t been eating all of what I’ve been bringing you.” He pushed Jack toward the door and opened it. “Besides, you are in desperate need of a bath.”

Jack sniffed himself. “Agreed.” He cast a glance at Ella. What if she woke up while he wasn’t there...

“Go,” Wes said, pushing him toward the door.

“
I can’t.” Jack sidestepped Wes. “I can’t leave her. I don’t care how foul I smell, I’m not leaving her.”

“
You need to,” Allison said.

“
No. I can’t.”

Her face softened. “How about a compromise?”

Jack crossed his arms. “I don’t compromise.”

Allison ignored him. “We will go, but you must eat.”

“Fine, I’ll eat,” he said through clenched teeth.

Wes exhaled. “All right. I’ll bring the bath in here.” He shot Jack a sharp look. “You will be bathing tonight.”

Jack lifted his brows. “And do you plan to stand around and ensure that I do?”

“
No. I’ll go inform one of my men that is his duty tonight.”

Jack scowled. “Just go.”

Wes left and Allison grinned. “I’ll just take Wes’ plate with me.” She looked down at Ella. “If she needs—”

“
I’ll come get you.”

She nodded and walked to the door just in time to open it for her husband, who was carrying in a large copper tub.

Wes set it down by the fire.

“
I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow.”

“
There’s no need for that. I’ve talked to Colonel Lewis. The tub and pails are now officially yours, so we shouldn’t have to have this type of conversation again.”

Jack shook his head. “Thank you.”

Wes muttered something, then left and came back a minute later with two large pails of steaming water and set them next to the tub.

Jack closed the door behind his friends then let his eyes travel from the food to the tub. There was no doubt about it. He might have hardly eaten since Ella had taken ill, but the temptation of the tub was far more appealing.

Jack bent to untie his boots and peel off his stockings, then splayed his toes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d removed his boots. Or any of his clothes for that matter. He stripped off his once white shirt that now bore stains from sweat and tea, then dropped his dark blue trousers.

Careful not to spill one precious drop of the water, he poured both pails into the tub then walked over to the shelf where he’d placed the bar of soap he’d bought from Charles.

The hot water was like euphoria to his tired body and aching muscles.

He sank a little lower and closed his eyes. He knew he should be doing a quick scrub and then getting out and waiting for Ella to awake. It had been almost an hour and a half since she was last awake. She’d wake up soon. He needed to get out. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He would in a minute, he promised himself, leaning a little farther down into the tub.

He involuntarily groaned and shifted to spread out as best he could in such a confined space.

Sleep he couldn’t fight began to settle over him and he tried in vain to lift his eyelids, but the dark abyss of slumber called to him—

“Jack!”

***

Ella held her hand over her pounding heart as she sat bolt upright in a bed that she vaguely remembered. Her eyes wandered the room. Dishes. Curtains. A pile of discarded clothes. Towels. Food. A tub. A naked man.

She blushed and pulled her eyes away. Not only had he been naked, but he was dripping wet. His dark hair was slicked back and steady drops of water were dripping from the ends of his hair, his nose, his chin, his fingers and even... Her face flushed. Yes, in a matter of seconds, when she’d looked his way, she’d even noticed
that
. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“
Don’t be sorry,” he said, now at her side. His large hand touched her back, while the other cupped her face and turned her gaze toward him.

Jack.
She licked her lips. “I—I’m sorry for what I did to your boots.”

“
My boots?” he repeated, confusion marring his handsome face with a line between his brows.

“
Earlier when you came in to take me to breakfast and I accidentally...er...washed your boots in last night’s dinner.”

He stared at her for a long moment, after which a look she’d never seen on his face, or anyone else’s, came over his,
and then,
he wrapped both of his arms around her and sank to his knees on the floor beside her. He pulled her against his bare chest and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t care about my boots, Ella. They’re replaceable, you’re not.”

She wiggled around to see his face but couldn’t get a clear view of the addled man who held her.

He pulled away from her but didn’t let her go. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

Yes, she was, too. She’d had a terrible nightmare. “Thank you,” she said because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“How do you feel?”

“
Better.”

A grin split his lips. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He moved his hands to frame her face and idly stroked her cheekbones. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Yes. You can put some clothes on.”

He glanced down at himself, then met her gaze again, his dark brown eyes alight with all sorts of mischief. “Sorry. I was taking a bath while you were resting.”

“I didn’t know we had a bathtub in here,” she said, rather excited at the prospect. If she’d known, she’d have taken a bath when she’d first started feeling sick.

“
Wes just brought it over a little while ago. Colonel Lewis assigned us one because—” He broke off with a hard swallow, but he’d said enough. A private tub was likely just another benefit to being married.

A wave of sadness and renewed vulnerability came over her at his partial admission as memories of the day before flooded her. She pulled away. “Just get dressed, please.”

He stood and quickly donned his clothes while she stared down at her nails. He walked past her, creating a light breeze. She shivered and ran her hands over her bare arms. She froze. Her bare arms? Hadn’t she lain down in her dress?