“YOU INCOMPETENT, USELESS ass! They escaped.”
“The men were not expecting so many.” Edward tried to explain.
“Why were you not prepared?”
“They were only expecting the four,” Edward whined.
“They were only expecting the four,” the man mimicked in a pinched voice. “You are worthless.”
Edward scowled. “We can try again.”
“Every one of your men are dead, Edward. You have no one left.”
Edward paced. “But we could use a few of yours.”
“To what end? You have failed numerous times and I am done with you.”
“We got one of them.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“The woman was shot.”
“Which woman, Edward? Try not to be so damn obtuse, if you please.”
“Gwendolyn. She’s injured badly.”
“So?”
“I have another idea.”
“I await with bated breath,” he said sarcastically as he folded his lean body into one of the high-backed chairs.
Edward sighed. “A diversion.”
“What kind of diversion?”
“One that would require the men to leave the women alone.”
“I’m listening.”
Edward laid out his plan as the man once again stood and paced the room. Perhaps this could be salvaged, he thought to himself.
* * *
Andrew was hot. Too hot in fact. Sweat poured from his body as he kicked the covers off and slowly pulled himself from oblivion. He opened his eyes and realized it wasn’t he who was hot. It was Gwen. She was burning with fever. He jumped from the bed and threw open the door.
“Stephen!” he yelled down and then rushed back to Gwen.
Stephen arrived in the room a few seconds later. “What’s wrong?”
“She has a fever,” Andrew said.
“Okay. Let me look.”
Christine and Sophie walked in with fresh bandages and Stephen took scissors from his wife’s hands. He cut the bandages off and gently pulled the pad away from her wound.
“It’s infected,” he said. “We need to get it cleaned. Baby, we need hot water, the hotter the better. The alcohol again and clean rags. The poultice isn’t working and may actually be what her body’s reacting to, so we’ll just do our best to keep it clean. Bring some Advil too; it will help with the fever.”
“We are really running low on the Advil now,” Sophie said.
“We’ll use it sparingly,” he said. “I’m close to finalizing an ibuprofen formula, so hopefully we won’t run out completely before then.”
The girls left the room to gather the supplies and then Andrew heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Mrs. Butler flew through the door and gasped at the sight before her. “Oh, my lord! Is she dead?”
Christopher rushed inside and tried to pull her away. “Mama. Come downstairs.”
Andrew moved to block her view. “No ma’am. She has developed an infection in the wound and has a fever. Stephen is working to get it cleaned.”
“Willie, let’s give the man some room to work,” Vincent said from behind his wife.
Christine strolled in the room with her supplies and smiled sympathetically. “You all should really give Dr. Paxton time and room to examine her. I’ll come down and find you as soon as he’s finished.”
Andrew saw Stephen give Christine a nod of thanks.
“Andrew, you should go as well,” Christine said.
“I’m staying,” he said.
“She’s dying.” Wilhelmina burst into tears.
“Mama! She’s not dying. Please don’t borrow trouble,” Christopher begged.
Vincent and Christopher ushered her into the hallway and Andrew closed the door.
“Andrew, please find Michael,” Stephen requested.
“Is this a ploy to get me to leave?”
“No, I need Michael. Quickly if you please,” he said, a little too forcefully.
Andrew nodded and went to find Michael. He returned with his brother-in-law and opened the door. Christine placed her palm on his chest and pushed him out of the room. “You need to stay out of here, Drew.”
Andrew pressed against her palm. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Drew, it’s better that you stay out of the room.”
“No! Tell me what’s wrong.”
Jamie rushed up the stairs.
“I can’t. You need to stay out here,” she said and then looked to Jamie. “Jamie, please.”
“Come on, Andrew. Let’s go downstairs.”
“No, damn it. What’s wrong with my wife?” he begged, panicked. Jamie pulled him toward the stairs. “What’s wrong with my wife?” he whispered.
Sophie stood at the foot of the stairs with the Butlers. “What’s going on?”
“We don’t know. They made Andrew leave,” Jamie said.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “Come into the parlor, everyone.” Andrew didn’t move. Sophie grabbed his arm. “Andrew? Come into the parlor.”
Gwen screamed and Andrew turned and ran back up the stairs.
“Crap,” Jamie said and followed.
Andrew threw the door open and nearly passed out at the sight of Stephen kneeling in his wife’s blood and Michael holding a metal mask over her nose.
“Oh, my God!”
“Andrew, go downstairs,” Stephen snapped.
Andrew rushed inside. “What the hell is going on? Tell me!”
“Christine,” Stephen growled.
Christine made her way to her brother and pulled him back out the door. “Andrew. Her wound is badly infected and Stephen needed to cut away the infection. The bleeding is significant and they are trying to stop that before they sew the wound back up.”
Andrew started to pace.
“I need to get back in there,” Christine said.
“Go,” Jamie said. Andrew moved to open the door again, but Jamie stopped him. “Andrew. Don’t. You’ll distract Stephen and drive yourself crazy. Just let them do their job.”
“Andrew?” Sophie called to him from the bottom of the stairs. “There is nothing you can do right now. Come downstairs.”
“We’ll go to the library. Just us. You don’t have to be with anyone else,” Jamie promised.
“Andrew, please,” Sophie begged.
Andrew nodded reluctantly and let them lead him into the library.
* * *
“What’s happening?” Wilhelmina asked as they passed through the foyer.
Sophie let Jamie continue to the library with Andrew as she stopped to speak with Gwen’s mother. “Gwen’s developed a nasty infection. Stephen and Michael are trying to get it under control. That’s all we know right now, Wilhelmina.”
“My baby,” she said with a sob.
“Willie, dear. Come back into the parlor,” Vincent said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
He steered her into the parlor to join Hannah, Christopher, and Jacob.
“Where are Clay and Emma?” Sophie asked. “And Richard and Charity, come to think of it?”
“Richard took Charity for a walk. They’ll probably be back in a little while. Clayton and Emma are out at the barn. Clayton is questioning the soldier who took Jimmy home and Emma said she needed to be with him.” Hannah answered.
“They must be exhausted,” Sophie said.
Hannah sighed. “We all are, I think.”
Sophie grimaced. “So true. Are you okay?”
Hannah hugged her. “Yes, Soph. Let me take care of them and you take care of Andrew.”
“Thanks.” Sophie made her way to the library. She walked quietly into the room and closed the door. Andrew was standing stoically by the window, Jamie’s hand on his shoulder.
“What was that mask over her nose?” Jamie asked Sophie.
Sophie pursed her lips. “Did it look like a strainer?”
“Yes.”
“They must have had to use chloroform,” she answered.
“She’s going to die.” Andrew sat heavily on the window seat and buried his face in his hands.
“No, she’s not!” Sophie said. “Don’t give up hope, Drew.”
“It probably looks much worse than it is,” Jamie said.
The three were in the library for almost an hour, when the door opened, and a very tired Christine walked through the door. Andrew rushed to his sister. “Is she all right?”
Christine nodded. “Yes. She’s remarkably well. We had to use a small amount of chloroform, but the wound is clean and no longer bleeding badly, and she is resting comfortably.”
“Did Stephen determine the source of the infection?” Sophie asked.
“Yes. Gwen had an allergic reaction to something in the poultice Michael made, so for now, we’ll just change the bandage on a regular basis and keep the wound clean.”
* * *
Andrew dashed out the door and took the stairs two at a time. He opened the door and found Stephen checking Gwen’s temperature and pulse.
“She’s doing well, Andrew. Her fever is down, and her pulse is normal.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said.
Stephen left the room and Andrew climbed onto the bed. He laid his head down on Gwen’s pillow and kissed her temple. “My beautiful girl. You must enjoy scaring me.”
“Andrew?” she whispered.
“I was expecting you to sleep longer.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Are you in pain?”
“Yes.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t think anything will help and I don’t want morphine.”
“Sophie left a few of those pills. Why don’t you take two?”
Gwen nodded, and Andrew helped her take them.
“It burns,” she said, tears leaking down her temples.
Andrew gently wiped her tears away. “I know, beautiful.”
“I should have dropped to the floor when you told me too,” she said. “I just couldn’t move. I felt frozen.”
Andrew sat in the chair next to the bed. “I understand. It was a frightening situation. Sometimes it’s difficult to understand what is happening at a moment like that.”
“I was so scared, Andrew.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can imagine.”
Gwen shook her head. “I wasn’t scared for me.”
“Oh?”
“I was scared for you.”
He stroked her cheek. “Gwen.”
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too, sweetheart. I want you to try and sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. He spent the next hour whispering his love to her and telling her his plans for their life together.
Stephen came in again just before dinner to check on her and announced her fever was completely gone. While he was checking her pulse, she began to stir.
“Gwen?” Andrew whispered as he stroked her face.
She turned her head and opened her eyes.
“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”
She smiled and then grimaced. “It still hurts.”
Andrew kissed her forehead. “I know, beautiful. Stephen is going to give you something for the pain.”
“No more morphine,” she rasped.
“I know you don’t want it, but it will help.”
“Not yet. I’ll take a pill now and morphine only if it’s unbearable.” Andrew glanced at Stephen, but Gwen pulled his focus back to her. “Andrew, it should be my decision.”
“You’ve been shot, Gwen. If you’re in pain, then perhaps you might not be the best one to determine the best course of treatment.”
Gwen raised an eyebrow. “I have a gunshot wound, sweetheart, could you try to be less condescending?”
“Sorry,” Andrew grumbled.
Stephen smiled and answered the original question. “That’s fine. But, Gwen, be sure to tell me if it becomes too much. I’ll give you a shot immediately.”
“I will.” She sipped some water and swallowed a pill.
Stephen gathered his supplies and faced Andrew. “I’ll leave you alone. All of her vitals are good and the wound looks fine for now. I’ll check again in a few hours. Are you hungry, Gwen?”
“Starved,” she said.
“I’ll send up some broth.”
She sighed. “Not quite what I had in mind.”
“You don’t want to overwhelm your body with too much food right now. Broth is the best.”
“Thank you, Stephen,” Andrew said.
He left the room and Andrew leaned over to kiss Gwen.
“You look so tired, love,” Gwen observed and cupped his face.
“I wonder why.”
Gwen took a deep breath and then coughed.
“Gwendolyn,” Andrew growled.
“I’m fine, husband.”
“Stay that way, wife.” He tempered his growl with a smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Strange. My side is on fire and I feel tired. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt this tired before.”
“Stephen had to give you chloroform.” Andrew ran his hands through his hair. “I should have gotten to you faster.”
“What are you talking about?” She lifted her hand to his cheek. “You had no way of knowing a bullet was going to fly through the air and hit me. Don’t take this guilt on.” He kissed her palm. “That’s an order, Andrew. I’ll be fine, and in the meantime, I get you all to myself until I’m better.”
Andrew pressed his lips together. “That’s not exactly true. Your family’s downstairs, worried beyond reason, and I know they want to see you. Charity hasn’t slept and has been at your bedside as often as she was allowed to be as well. Are you up to visitors?”
Gwen nodded. “Send Mama and Charity in first.”
“All right. I’ll return in a moment. Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a grin.
“Wait,” she called just before he reached the door.
He turned to face her. “Yes?”
“A kiss please.”
He walked back to the bed and gave her a lingering kiss before making his way downstairs. Andrew walked into the parlor and all eyes turned to stare. “She’s awake.” Andrew nodded to Gwen’s mother. “She would like to see you and Charity.”
Mrs. Butler let out a sigh and stood quickly. Charity did the same and Andrew led them upstairs. They rushed to her bedside and each took a hand.
“Oh, my poor baby. How are you? What can I do for you? Can I get you anything?”
“No, Mama, I’m fine,” Gwen whispered.
“Gwen, are you certain?” Charity asked.
Gwen squeezed her hand. “Yes, Char. I’m doing very well.”
“Would you like some tea?” Wilhelmina asked.
“No, Mama. I’m quite tired.” Gwen gave Andrew a pleading look.
Andrew closed the distance between them. “Gwen really needs to rest. Perhaps you could see her just before you turn in.”
Wilhelmina kissed her daughter’s hand. “Are you certain you don’t need me?”
Gwen read between the lines and smiled. “I always need you, Mama, but Andrew is right. Stephen gave strict instructions for me to rest.”
“All right, dear. I’ll leave you for now, but I’ll check on you later.”
Gwen grasped her hand. “I hope that’s a promise, Mama. Tell Daddy I want to see him soon.”
Wilhelmina smiled and kissed her. She took Charity’s hand and led her out of the room, leaving Andrew once again alone with Gwen.
“Thank you,” Gwen said with a grimace. “She can be a bit smothering at times.”
“She’s simply worried about you.”
“I know,” she said.
“How are you feeling, beautiful?”
“Come here, please.”
“Do you need something?”
“Just you, Andrew.” She patted the mattress. “Please lie down beside me.”
Andrew frowned. “Are you in pain?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get Stephen,” he said and moved toward the door.
“No, Andrew. Please. I don’t like feeling muddled.” She patted the mattress again. “I’d rather be in pain and know what’s going on around me.”
Before he could acquiesce, there was a knock at the door. Andrew reached out and opened it and Stephen entered carrying a tray. “I brought you some broth.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“All right, sweetheart, let me help you sit up.” Andrew wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed the other under her knees. He lifted her into a sitting position, and although Gwen managed not to make a sound, the look on her face spoke volumes of the amount of pain she was in. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed his hand but didn’t speak.
“I’d like to look at your wound,” Stephen said.
“Can it wait?” she asked.
Stephen paused and then gave a quick nod. “Yes, but only for another hour.”
“I would appreciate it,” she said.
Stephen left the room with a promise he’d return directly after dinner. Andrew sat beside the bed and began to feed her. “Why didn’t you want Stephen to look at your wound, sweetheart?”
“Because it hurts like the dickens and I am sick of being prodded.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can we go home, please?” she asked.
“Soon.”
Gwen huffed. “How soon?”
“Stephen said a week.”
“Ugh.” She smacked the mattress with her fist. “I want to be back in our bed, with just you hovering.”
Andrew crossed his arms. “I don’t hover.”
“You do hover.”
Andrew chuckled. “Shall I leave?”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare.”
He sat in front of her and held a spoon to her mouth. “Eat your broth.”
“Did you find Edward?”
“Eat your broth, Gwendolyn,” he repeated, ignoring her question.
She wrapped her mouth around the spoon and swallowed. “It’s a simple question, Andrew. Did you find him?”
“I don’t want you to concern yourself with any of that. Just focus on getting well.”
“Did you find him?” He didn’t answer but did give her more broth. “Andrew. Please tell me.”
“No, we have not.”
“Damn it,” she said with a sigh.
“Gwendolyn Simmonds.”
“I think being shot allows me some leeway with cursing.” She stopped and smiled. “Say that again.”
Andrew frowned. “Say what?”
“My name.”
“Gwendolyn.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed. “Where did that come from?”
“Sophie does it to Jamie all the time.”
Andrew lifted the spoon to her mouth. “No more interaction with Sophie Ford for you.”
“That would mean you don’t get to see Jamie, and I know that’s never going to happen.” She ate the broth. “Now say it right.”
Andrew smiled. “Gwendolyn Simmonds.”
“Yes, that’s the one. I love that.”
“I love that too, beautiful. Are you feeling better?”
“You mean since less than a minute ago?” Andrew sighed. Gwen smiled. “I am.”
“Are you lying to me?”
Gwen frowned. “I am.”
“What can I do?”
She pursed her lips. “Distract me.”
“How would you like me to do that, sweetheart?”
She leaned forward. “We could start with a kiss.”
“We could.” He kissed her quickly. “We’ll end with one as well.”
“I thought you were going to distract me. Reminding me we have to stop at a kiss isn’t the way to do it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Especially one as paltry as that.”
He put the bowl of soup down and sat next to her on the bed. Leaning down, he gave her a lingering kiss.
“That’s better,” she said.
“You have certainly distracted me.”
She smiled, which quickly turned to a grimace.
“Gwen?”
“I’m going to be sick.” Andrew ran for a bowl and made it just in time. She groaned in pain. “It hurts.”
“I’m going to get Stephen.”
“No.” She grasped for his arm. “Why?”
“There’s blood on your bandage.”
“Oh.”
He moved out of the room and found Hannah on the other side of the door.
“I thought I’d check on the patient.” Hannah frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s bleeding through the bandage. I need to get Stephen.”
“Oh, then go. I’ll sit with Gwen,” she said.
“Thank you.” Andrew rushed to find the doctor.
“Hi, Gwen. I heard you’re bleeding.” Hannah sat down next to the bed.
“Yes and sick,” she said pathetically.
“Oh, lovey. You must feel horrible.”
Gwen held the bowl under her chin. “I must admit, it’s not my idea of entertainment.”
Stephen came in a few minutes later and shooed Hannah from the chair. He knelt beside the bed and cut the binding from Gwen’s waist. He then gently pulled the pad from her wound. Gwen whimpered quietly as he pulled it away from her skin.
Andrew climbed on the bed and took her hand.
“It is bleeding again, which I expected, but there’s no sign of infection, which is good. The vomiting is a side effect of the chloroform,” Stephen informed her. “You will probably feel nauseous for the next few hours, but it should pass. I’ll clean your wound and rebind it and then we’ll watch.”
“When can I get out of bed?” Gwen asked.
“You can get up and move around for a few minutes at a time, but other than that, you may not leave the bed for a few days, Gwen. I’m sorry.”
Gwen groaned.
Stephen changed the bandages and he and Hannah left the couple alone once again. Andrew spent the next hour trying to get Gwen to eat. He finally gave up and just let her sleep, which gave him a few moments to update everyone downstairs. Halfway back upstairs, the front door flew open and Andrew turned to see Richard burst inside. “Fire!”
The group came running from the parlor. “What’s amiss? Clayton asked.
“Our house is on fire, Clay. Hurry.”
There was a flurry of panic and motion and the men rushed out the door.
“Stay here, Hannah,” Christopher yelled.
“Bugger,” she exclaimed and turned back toward the parlor to join Wilhelmina.
Andrew followed and yelled instructions for Christine to take care of Gwen. He joined the men as they ran to address the blaze.