Harnessed Passions (29 page)

"She needs rest," Louise said, choking on
the sobs threatening to steal her voice. She had considered herself
to be a very strong woman and she was now facing the hardest
challenge of her life. She had already lost her husband and there
was a very real chance she could lose her only daughter as
well.

"The doctor said she's
ingested a great deal of water and her lungs are very weak. If she
doesn't improve soon..." the woman's throat closed on her, refusing
to allow the words to come out. Her tears ran unchecked down her
cheeks as she buried her face in her hands. Jeremy rushed to his
mother’s side, wrapping her in his strong arms as he closed his
eyes to the grief tearing at his soul. She looked very much older
than her years, Daniel thought as he walked to the doorway; her
shoulders shook violently with her sorrow, her voice a soft whimper
against her son’s shoulder. Daniel turned his gaze toward the
foyer, staring blankly at the steps that blocked him from his
wife;
his wife;
even the sound of that made his heart ache for her.

"It's alright, Louise,” Margie said as her
own voice began to shake softly while she tried to force a brave
tone to it. She went to the older woman and knelt beside her,
placing a reassuring hand on her forearm.

“
Julia’s a strong woman,”
Harold said after clearing his throat. “She’ll pull through this
and she’ll be back to arguing with everyone, just like
always."

"The doctor said she could...die," the older
woman choked out.

"But she won't," Daniel said, his voice was
filled with stern optimism and the sound of it made the eyes of
those gathered around, turn and stare at him. "There isn’t a chance
in hell I'm not going to let her go. Not after everything..." he
stopped, realizing he was rambling and about to spill the beans of
his newest discovery to everyone listening. He smiled gently to his
mother-in-law. He wouldn't tell her he hadn't yet taken her
daughter as his wife nor would he admit much he loved her; that was
for Julia to hear first.

The door upstairs opened again, this time
the elderly frame of Dr. Stewart appeared on the stairs. In his
hand he held his bag and he looked straight to Daniel as he stepped
off the last stair and slipped his hat back on his head. The
anguish on the younger man's face was visible, making the doctor's
news seem even more painful.

"Keep her warm and make certain she gets
plenty of quiet. The next day or two will be critical. She
swallowed a great deal of water and her lungs are very weak. If I
thought she would survive the ride I'd take her into town to my
office, but I doubt she'd make it that far." The man drew a deep
breath and sighed. It had been a long night and it was beginning to
look like a very long week.

"I've ordered steam to be placed near her
head. It will help her breathing and hopefully help us avoid
pneumonia, but other than that it's up to her. I'll check back in
on her this evening unless..." the man stopped and shrugged his
shoulders. "I'll be back," he said again, following Harold, who
showed him to the door.

Daniel just stood there for a long minute
staring unconsciously at the floor. He tried to be strong for
Julia’s sake, but he found his fatigue slowly stripping away his
strength and determination. He slowly stepped toward the stairs,
unaware his legs were even moving. He found himself beside his wife
in a few moments and knelt down on the floor at the side of her
bed. He held her hand softly between his and sniffed back the tears
her lifeless touch induced.

"I'm here Princess," he told her quietly,
leaning over and kissing her lips tenderly. He frowned at the heat
that rose off her delicate face. "I'm never going to leave you," he
promised. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

The doctor had said a day or two. He could
wait that long to tell her how he felt; he would wait an eternity
if that was what it took, but she would know the truth and he would
make certain she knew it was not her land he wanted to share, but
her soul and her heart. He vowed silently that he would tell her
the minute she opened her eyes. He silently took a seat in the
chair beside the bed, holding the heat of her hand in his; he
promised her again never to let her go. Not until the world stood
still and time itself no longer existed would he find the strength
to let her go.

The hours ticked by at a snail's pace, but
Daniel still refused to leave Julia's side. She remained
unconscious fourteen hours after her accident. Her breathing was
labored and shallow and her skin very warm and clammy. The game of
waiting was beginning to wear on the nerves of everyone at Turner
Stables. The entire household was silent, waiting for some sign
that Julia would survive.

Daniel would not allow anyone in her room
outside of her mother and Bridget, who brought in boiling hot water
every half hour. A large cast iron pot of water sat on the table
next to Julia's head, another on the dresser, a third on the vanity
and still another on a table the foot of the bed, brought up from
the sitting room. The steam filled the room, making it feel more
like the hot spas of Bath England, where Daniel had frequented so
often in his younger years. When the doctor arrived later that
evening, he was quite pleased his orders had been followed so
explicitly. Everything seemed to be to Dr. Stewart’s liking, but
Julia still remained in a state of unconsciousness.

Louise tried to concentrate on her needle
point down as she sat alone in the family room, but after several
mistakes and pricks of her fingers she gave up and went to her own
room. The hours were playing havoc with her mind and she was
beginning to feel the tension weighing down on her. Several times
she had snapped at those working in the silent house, irritated
with the noise of supper cooking in the kitchen or the sound of
horses in the fields. She had even gone so far as to tell Thompson
to remove the old grandfather clock from the front hall, as it
continued to count the hours with precise chiming.

At least in her room she could pace the
floor in peace, or sit by the window and watch the passing of time
across the clear sky. She lay on the oversized bed and tried
repeatedly to read her favorite stories by Edgar Allan Poe. After
more than three attempts to read one page she tossed the book aside
and began to pace the floors again. Waiting was never one of her
favorite pastimes and right now it was proving to be a great ugly
enemy, lurking just outside the realms of reason. An intruder she
was ready to take her colt .45 to.

Jeremy stayed in his room most of the time
or out on the front porch. He thought about Julia and Daniel, he
thought about his father and the will, he even thought about the
life he had planned out for himself once he and Malinda were
married. Nothing seemed to come together or make as much sense as
it had a few short weeks ago. His sister lay in her room dying and
he sat by feeling utterly helpless.

He felt the swell of guilt riding his back
like a demon driving him forward. If he had agreed to take over
this place, if he had been a better son, perhaps Julia would have
been able to return to Boston and this would never have happened.
She’d be happily living the life she wanted for herself and he
would be the one to follow their father’s insane design for the
future. With a heavy sigh and straighten his shoulders, Jeremy
stood and went up to his sister. Daniel had insisted nobody come
into the room, he wanted everything to stay as quiet as possible,
but by God he was going to relent on that order or be prepared to
fight!

Daniel rubbed the sleep from his eyes and
stretched his aching legs in front of him. He had been sitting in
the same chair next to Julia's bedside, for the past four hours. He
hadn't slept or had any nourishment whatsoever except for the
coffee Bridget brought to him. Leaving his wife’s side was not an
option.

He looked at Julia still and quiet beneath
the heavy layer of blankets. He could hear her breathing, so he
knew she was still fighting, though her lungs labored to pull in
air. the room was damp and hot with the humidity from the water,
but it was nothing compared to the heavy thoughts weighing him
down.

Quietly, Daniel stood and began to pace the
floor staring around at the silent walls. He had never really
noticed this room before, with its pale blue curtains and white
lace trim. The matching bedspread of blue satin lay on top of his
wife who rested in a large four poster bed, and the newer Victorian
style furnishings dotted the expanse of the thick brown carpeted
room.

Several oil paintings adorned the rich
floral wallpapered walls, while a large fireplace encased in
elegant Italian marble tiles stood between two long narrow French
doors that opened up onto a veranda. Porcelain vases decorated the
tops of dressers, while several glass oil lamps sat spread across
the room.

Along one side of the room next to the door
that joined the private wash closet to the bedroom was a walk-in
wardrobe with its many racks of dresses, cloaks, hats and shoes.
Nearly a dozen drawers filled with stockings, petticoats and
bloomers lined the interior walls of the wardrobe. Daniel thought
about how his own clothes which remained spread across the room
that joined the wash closet on the opposite wall.

This was very much a female’s room; elegant
and lavish and he couldn’t help but wonder how long Louise and
Victor had occupied separate rooms or why. The couple he had grown
to know over the past four years was loving, caring and seemed to
be a perfect match. Rarely was one seen without the other, and they
never spoke harshly to or about their spouse. This room just didn’t
seem to fit the ideal lovers he had grown so fond of, but it was
obviously designed for and used as a woman’s room.

Daniel couldn't stand the torture of silence
any longer as he looked back to his wife. Walking to the vanity, he
picked up her silver hairbrush and returned to her side, sitting in
the chair he had occupied for so long. He lifted the dark lengths
of hair and began stroking the bristles through the tangled
strands, until they were smooth and silky against his palms. The
urge to touch her, to feel something besides the threat of death
overpowered him and he began to speak to her.

"I know you’re still angry with me,” he
whispered awkwardly, his tone tear-clogged and his eyes moist as he
stared at her. “But you have to admit; arguing is nearly as much
fun sometimes as kissing.” He remained quiet for a few seconds as
he continued to brush her hair, allowing the silky strands to slide
through his fingers.

“
Talk to me my Little
Princess," he pleaded softly, barely recognizing his own voice.
"It's time you woke up. I need you Julia; I need to hear your
voice." The emotion raked his tone as he struggled to keep his
voice level.

"Please Princess; open your eyes for me.
Talk to me, yell at me, tell me to stay the hell away from you,
just say something." There was only silence in the room when Daniel
dropped Julia's hairbrush to the table next to the bed and cupped
her cheeks gently in his hands.

"Julia, if you open your eyes I promise to
do everything you ask. I'll never touch you again, if that's what
you want, or I'll never stop touching you; just please open your
eyes and talk to me. I need you in my life, Princess. I'm nothing
without you. If you want to go to Boston I'll let you, but please
wake up."

The soft knock at the door brought Daniel up
short, finding his cheeks wet from tears he hadn't realized had
spilled from his tired eyes. He wiped the moistness away with the
back of his hand and went to the door, clearing the grief and
sorrow from his throat. He opened it to find a very determined
Jeremy staring at him.

"I want to see my sister," he whispered,
"and I won't take no for an answer. If you won't let me come in
then I'll...I'll climb through the window." Daniel chuckled and
stepped aside, waving him entrance.

"How can I decline such determination," he
whispered, in return. Jeremy stepped cautiously into the room,
trying not to make any noise. Julia was still unconscious lying
under a tower of blankets. Her hair had been braided and lay across
her chest. Jeremy noticed the hairbrush next to the bed and looked
to Daniel.

"I couldn't resist," he said with a soft
blush to his tanned cheeks, unaware he had braided his wife's hair
as he spoke to her. It was Jeremy's turn to chuckle, as he neared
the bed. He touched his sister's cheek gently and smiled back to
Daniel.

"She's warm," he replied awkwardly. "Last
night she was burning up."

"The steam's been helping I think, but we
really won't know for a while yet, if the doctor is to be
believed."

"Have you had any sleep, or anything to
eat?" Jeremy asked, looking at the man next to him. His chin was
covered with the light stubble of a beard and his hair looked as
though he'd spent several hours, running his hands through it. No
doubt an accurate assumption, Jeremy thought silently. It was after
all, what he himself had been doing the long hours that slowly
passed by.

"I'm not tired and I couldn't eat if I was
forced to."

"Why don't you go down and try to eat
anyway. I'll stay with her for a while."

"No, I'll stay. I want to be here when she
wakes up." Daniel took his seat next to the bed again, folding his
strong arms across his chest. The pain was etched on the man's
handsome features, and for a long time he just stared at her, as
though memorizing every single curve and line.

"You're in love with her aren't you?" Jeremy
asked, staring at the man next to him. Daniel didn't look up; he
kept his gaze on the woman, but chuckled all the same.

"Who would have imagined I would fall in
love with my own wife?" he teased, then replied more seriously, "I
can't live without her, Jeremy. She's everything to me."