VICTORIA GLANCED UP as Hannah came into Quincy’s room and moved closer to the bed. Hannah smiled. “How’s the patient?”

“He passed out after I cleaned his wound.” Victoria laid her hand gently on his forehead. “He’s running a fever, but he doesn’t seem to be in pain.”

“Good. Why don’t you get some rest?”

Victoria shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

Hannah frowned. “You should really sleep.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“I’ll sit with him, or Christopher will. He’s dying to know how his brother is. I’ve banned him from the room and he’s not very happy with me. Gwen’s also anxious to see her big brother. Quincy won’t be alone. I promise.”

Victoria took a minute to think, then stood. She leaned down to feel Quincy’s forehead for the fiftieth time and sighed. He was still really warm, but she knew she shouldn’t have the monopoly on worrying about him. His family should. She stroked his cheek, his beard thick and soft under her fingers. She reluctantly let Hannah lead her from the room.

Christopher stalled his pacing when Victoria pulled the door closed with a quiet click. A beautiful woman stood with him and Victoria assumed it was Quincy’s sister, as she looked very much like the brothers.

“How is he?” Christopher asked.

“He’s sleeping. Or unconscious, I’m not entirely sure,” Victoria answered. “I cleaned his wound the best I could and bandaged it again.”

“Thank you.” Christopher turned and went through Quincy’s door.

“Victoria, this is Gwen, Quincy’s sister,” Hannah said.

Gwen held her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Miss Carrington.”

“Victoria, please. Nice to meet you as well.” Victoria shook her hand. “Quincy talked fondly of you, I feel as though I know you already.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Was he a bear?”

Victoria sighed. “Yes.”

Gwen laughed. “Good, that means he’ll live. Thank you for taking care of him.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to see him now, but I look forward to getting to know you.”

Victoria nodded and Hannah led her back to the guest room. “You must be exhausted.”

Sitting heavily on the bed, Victoria sighed. “I am. This is all so surreal, you know?”

Hannah pulled a nightgown from a drawer and then faced Victoria. “Tell me everything.”

Victoria relayed the story of the FBI’s assumptions after Hannah’s disappearance and shared the story of getting stuck in the stairwell. Hannah laughed as Victoria reenacted her struggles to try and keep the door open.

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “That never worked for me either. Partly because my legs are so short.”

Victoria giggled. “I saw this painting. I think it might have been of your husband.”

Hannah nodded. “The one on the wall?”

“Yes.”

“So unbelievably gorgeous.” Hannah sighed. “That’s what I was looking at when everything went black.”

“Well, I was drawn to an old photograph of Quincy sitting on the little table.” Victoria bit her lip. “Although, he was clean-shaven in the photo. I remember touching the glass and smelling smoke. Then everything went black.”

Victoria filled Hannah in on the battlefield and then the long ride to get to the townhouse.

“I’ll say it again, then.” Hannah squeezed her shoulder. “You must be exhausted.”

Victoria burst into tears and flopped onto her side.

Hannah sat next to her and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Victoria. Everything will be fine.”

“I don’t understand any of this. It’s not possible, Hannah. I can’t be here.”

“Well, you are here, and I’m glad.”

Victoria punched the mattress. “But I had a chance at a great life with Ben and now it’ll never happen.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Ben?”

Victoria sat up. “He’s the agent in charge of the investigation.”

“Let’s just wait things out for a few days, okay?” Hannah smiled. “You could have been sent here to save Quincy. You don’t really know, right?”

“This is so lame!” Victoria flopped back onto the bed and cried into the pillow.

* * *

Shaken awake by a nightmare, Victoria forced her eyes open. She was reliving the gunfire, but this time she watched Quincy actually get hit and fall slowly to the ground. She shook the cobwebs from her mind as she sat up and looked around her. Climbing off the bed, Victoria wondered what time it was, barely able to see her hand in front of her face.

Peeking her head out the bedroom door, she saw only one sconce lit, so she assumed everyone else had gone to bed. Walking quietly across the hall, she opened Quincy’s door, let herself in, and closed the door.

“Victoria?” she heard him whisper.

“You’re awake.” Moving closer to the bed, she felt his forehead and relief slicked through her when her hand was met with cool skin. Quincy pulled her hand from his forehead and kissed the palm. Victoria rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

As she pulled her hand back, Quincy tugged, refusing to release her. “Gus, you’re going to need to let my hand go so I can get you some water.”

He reluctantly let go and she poured him a glass.

“Let’s sit you up,” she said, and helped him up then put pillows behind him. She handed him the glass and started to leave the room.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just getting you a couple of painkillers. I’ll be right back.” Feeling her way around her bedroom, she couldn’t find her bag and she didn’t know how to light her lamp without matches, so she went back across the hall and poked her head into Quincy’s room. “Quinn? How do I light my lamp? I can’t see anything in my room.”

Sitting up, he whispered, “Let me assist.”

She shook her head. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll help, Rebel.” Bracing his hand on the edge of the mattress, he tried to climb out of the bed.

She rushed to his side. “What are you doing, crazy man?”

“I’m fine, Victoria.”

Letting out a little screech when she suddenly realized the discarded sheet revealed a nicely formed thigh, she turned her back. “You’re naked.”

“There should be trousers in the bureau.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “So?”

“Victoria, please get me some pants.”

“No.”

He sighed. “Little rebel.”

“No,” she stressed. “You shouldn’t get out of bed.”

“Get the pants,” he ordered.

“Make me.”

Quincy stood.

“What are you doing?” she squealed.

He moved behind her and grabbed a robe. “I never could say no to a good challenge.”

“You’re an idiot.” Without turning to look at him, she walked out of the room and slammed the door. She heard a loud bump and an expletive, which made her feel somewhat vindicated.

“Miss Carrington?” She turned to see Christopher moving quickly down the hall, Hannah following. “What happened?”

“Ask your brother,” Victoria said with a scowl and moved into her room.

Hannah rushed inside with her and closed the door. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Victoria paced the room.

“Oh, really? What was that loud bang?”

Victoria shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Hannah crossed her arms. “Victoria, spill.”

Victoria relayed what happened and Hannah started giggling. “Naked? Seriously.”

“Yes.” Victoria sighed in frustration. “Is it so different in the north than in the south? I know for a fact that in the nineteenth-century south, men didn’t pull moves like that.”

“No, it’s certainly not different.”

* * *

Across the hall, Quincy tried to block out his brother’s lecture.

“Tell me you did not get out of bed without clothes on in front of my wife’s friend!” Christopher ordered.

Quincy shrugged. “She wouldn’t retrieve my pants.”

“Why would you need pants, Quinn? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Well, Christopher the Big, she needed assistance,” Quincy argued.

Christopher crossed his arms. “What type of assistance?”

“She needed to light her bedroom lamp.”

Christopher’s eyes widened. “You could have just explained how to do it.”

Quincy shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“If you didn’t already have a bullet wound in your shoulder, I’d put one there,” Christopher threatened as he handed him a pair of pants. “Put these on.”

“I need assistance.”

“I hope you have not offended her sensibilities.” Christopher helped him with his clothing.

Quincy snorted. “Her sensibilities are not easily offended.”

“How would you know that?” Christopher asked, infuriated.

Quincy made an attempt at buttoning his shirt. “She was the one who removed the bullet from my thigh.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely the same thing, do you?”

Quincy glanced down at his shaking hand and frowned. “Perhaps not. However, my little rebel is stronger than she looks.”

Christopher took over the buttoning job and asked suspiciously, “Quincy, what exactly happened on that field?”

Sitting back on the bed, Quincy filled Christopher in on Victoria’s assistance on the battlefield.

Christopher let out a quiet whistle. “That’s quite extraordinary.”

“Yes, she is.”

Christopher leaned his tall frame against the bureau. “Stephen will be here tomorrow.”

“Who’s Stephen?” Quincy looked up, vaguely remembering the name, as if he’d dreamed the information.

“A gifted surgeon who will take care of your shoulder. Then I think it would be best if Hannah and Victoria go back with him.”

Quincy’s head whipped up. “Back to where?”

“Harrisburg.”

“Whatever for?”

“I need to purchase two new horses,” Christopher explained. “Hannah and I were booked to travel there in two days, but perhaps they should go earlier.”

Quincy stood. “Victoria’s not going anywhere without me.”

“I doubt you have any say in it.”

Quinn glared at him.

“You met this girl two days ago? Perhaps less. Exactly what are your intentions?”

Quincy shrugged. “I intend to court her.”

“Quincy, be realistic,” his brother argued. “You’re a soldier in wartime. You won’t have an opportunity to court her, especially if you’re sent out again.”

“I’ll work it out.”

“All right, Quinn. I’ll let you work it out.” Christopher sighed. “But please no more of these shenanigans. Hannah will have my hide.”

“Do you have socks?”

Christopher pointed to the bureau. “In the bureau for the socks, extra shirts in the wardrobe. I moved a few things in last night.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Are you hungry?”

Quinn grinned. “What do you think?”

“Right. I forgot with whom I was talking. How are you feeling?”

“Bored,” Quincy complained. “I need to get out of this room.”

“Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs. I’m sure we’ll find food in the pantry, and I know I have whiskey in my office.”

“Excellent.”

Christopher left him, and Quincy overheard him speak to Hannah in the hallway. He wanted to check on Victoria before he met with his brother, so he cracked the door slightly and listened as he waited for them to disappear.

“What are you still doing up, precious girl? You and the baby need to rest.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” Hannah grumbled. “My friend’s a tad bit upset with your brother right now and probably won’t sleep for a while.”

Quincy frowned. He knew his behavior had been unacceptable.

“Well, that’s no reason for you not to sleep,” Christopher admonished.

“As soon as I know she’s all right, I’ll go to bed. I promise.”

“I’m not happy with that answer.”

Hannah chuckled. “And, I should care, why?”

“Sweetheart, you haven’t been able to sleep for two days. So, I want you to say goodnight to Victoria and go to bed.”

Quincy opened the door a bit more.

“You are such a bossy britches tonight.” Hannah frowned up at him.

Christopher leaned down and kissed her. “Go to bed.”

Hannah sighed. “Let me check on her first.”

“I’m standing here until you do.”

Quincy watched Hannah open Victoria’s door then waited until she came out and told Christopher that Victoria was resting and they said their goodnights. He was surprised how much his brother had changed since finding Hannah. She must be a remarkable woman.

Quinn slowly opened his door wider and peeked into the hallway. Finding it empty, he quietly crossed the hall and opened the door to Victoria’s bedroom.

“Hannah, I’m fine! Go to bed,” Victoria called.

“It’s me, little rebel.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Oh, well, you can just go away,” she snipped.

Quincy moved to the side of the bed. “I came to apologize.”

“By barging into my room in the middle of the night?”

“It didn’t appear that you would come to mine, so this was my only alternative.”

She sat up and glared at him. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders and she gave a sexy shrug to slide it behind her. “Gus, just leave. We can talk in the morning. You shouldn’t even be out of bed.”

“I’m fine, Victoria.” He sat on the bed and squeezed her hand.

She pulled her hand away. “What are you doing now?”

“I was feeling a bit dizzy.”

Sitting up on her knees, the blankets slipping from her body, she leaned over to feel his forehead, but before she could touch him, he wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her onto his lap. “Ooh, you are such a sneak. You weren’t dizzy at all, were you?” Quincy chuckled quietly as she scrambled to her feet and pointed to the door. “Get out of my room.”

“Accept my apology.”

“Riiight. Your apology.” She waved her hands in frantic irritation. “The one you’re making while manhandling me? That one?” He stood, and she pointed to the door. “Gus. Out. Now.”

He moved closer. “Say you forgive me first.”

“Get out.”

“Victoria.” He leaned down to kiss her.

She sidestepped him, making him stumble, his other arm unusable to steady himself.

“Quincy, stop it.” Crossing her arms, she glared at him.

“I’m being a bear,” he said quietly. “You’re absolutely right, Victoria. I’ll leave you now.” Quincy left Victoria’s bedroom and pulled the door closed.

He waited a few minutes and then went looking for his brother. He found him in his office. “What are you doing in here?” Quincy asked. “I thought we were going to eat.”

Christopher nodded. “Sorry. Yes, we are. A tray is being prepared as we speak.”

Sitting in the chair across from Christopher, Quincy rested his ankle on his knee. The motion pulled at his wound, so he quickly lowered it again and stared at Christopher. “Tell me what has you troubled, Chris.”

“There has been an attempt on Lincoln’s life.”

Quincy leaned forward in his chair. “What? How? When?”

“I just received a missive. Last night at around eleven, apparently. He was riding alone, on his way to his cottage at the Soldiers’ Home,” Christopher said with a frustrated sigh. “A sniper attempted a shot as he arrived at the foot of the hill around the entrance to the grounds. It went straight through his top hat, knocking it from his head.”

“How did you find out?”

“He told Mr. Lamon. Almost in a spirit of levity.” Christopher ran his hands through his hair. “It boggles the mind, really. He doesn’t give a damn about his own safety! He seemed more concerned about the loss of his hat.”

“Hasn’t he always been like that?”

Christopher grunted. “Yes, he has. I however, intend to save him from himself. Especially from what’s coming.”

Christopher’s housekeeper arrived with a tray laden with food and then left the room and pulled the door closed again.

Quincy picked up a sandwich. “What’s coming?”

Quincy spent almost an hour with his brother. They caught each other up on war, family, and friends. Quinn was happy to hear that his sister married Andrew, although he was concerned about her gunshot wound.

“What about Clay’s house?” Quincy asked. “How bad was the damage?”

The Madden’s home had sustained a severe fire, and there was significant damage done to the house.

“The repairs have gone much quicker than expected. And no one was hurt.”

Quincy relaxed his grip on the chair. “That must be a relief.”

“It is.” Christopher dropped a pen on the desk. “By the way, word of warning.”

Quincy raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Millicent is here.”

“Where?”

“She’s staying with Gwen.”

Quincy rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, now that she knows you’re back—”

“She won’t leave.” Quincy rolled his eyes. “That’s all I need.”

“Well, don’t dwell on it for now, Quinn.” Christopher stood and moved out from behind his desk. “Let’s turn in.”

Quincy followed Christopher upstairs. He needed more painkillers, or at least that’s what he told himself as he knocked quietly and then opened Victoria’s door.

* * *

Victoria couldn’t seem to get her emotions under control. Her stomach churned, and it was difficult to breathe. Her thoughts were in turmoil and she laid her pillow over her face in an effort to block out her thoughts.

“Victoria?” Quincy whispered as he made his way to the bed.

Great!

“What,” she grumbled.

“Why are you crying, little rebel?”

She raised the pillow and turned her head toward him. Still gorgeous... jerk.

“Why are you here?” Victoria dropped the pillow next to her.

“I need some of those tablets.”

She sat up, suddenly concerned. “Are you in a lot of pain?” Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she climbed quickly out of bed.

He shook his head. “No, but it is uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Gus. I’m sorry. I’ve been a lousy nurse. Sit down and let me check your shoulder.”

Quincy lit two of the sconces before sitting in the chair. Gathering bandages, ointment, and Advil, Victoria stood in front of him and watched him take the pills before she helped him to remove his shirt. She pulled the bandage aside and sighed. “It’s better than it was. We need to get that bullet out and put a few stitches in it, so that the wound can heal. I hope this doctor arrives quickly.”

She cleaned the injury with alcohol and then put more ointment and bandages on it.

“Little rebel?”

“Hm?” She glanced at him and then back at his shoulder.

“Why were you crying?”

She moved to the bureau so that she could clean up and wash her hands. “It’s just been a rough couple of weeks.”

Quincy grimaced. “And I probably didn’t help, did I?”

She turned to peer over her shoulder at him. “Not particularly. No.”

Quinn stood to walk over to her and she faced him.

Good Lord, he’s magnificent.

“I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers gently down her cheek.

She smiled at him. “I forgive you.”

Quincy pulled her into his arms, but didn’t try to kiss her. Victoria sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. She burst into tears again and then silently berated herself for being such a crybaby. He stood and held her, rubbing her back as she released the sadness and frustration of the past few weeks. Hiccupping when she had no water left to cry, she took the handkerchief he offered.

Quincy squeezed her shoulders. “Better?”

“Now that I’ve cried all over your chest?” She nodded and blew her nose. “Thank you.”

Quincy gently lifted her chin. “Are you truly better?”

“Yes, Quincy, I’m truly better. Sometimes a girl just needs a good cry.”

He chuckled. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” She blew her nose again. “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine.”

“You should get some rest now.” She tried to put some distance between them. “I probably should too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Will you be all right alone?”

“My word, Gus.” She bit her lip. “One night spent in my arms and you’re already missing me?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” he said, altogether too seriously for her frazzled nerves.

She wrinkled her nose. “Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Closing the distance again, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams, little rebel.”

“You too, Gus.”

Once he left her, she climbed into bed, surprised to feel her body relax. She was asleep almost immediately.