The Flyer (19 page)

“I suppose.”

A moment later, Buddy returned with his wife, having obviously chosen to leave the rest of the family waiting in the parlor.

Mrs. McIntyre trembled when she approached Marla’s bedside. She ran a finger over the rubber tubing, a frown deepening the lines on her weathered face. “What happened? Josh wouldn’t tell us.”

“We’re treating her for a snakebite, Mrs. McIntyre. She was probably bitten by a … a …”

“A Death Adder,” Paul finished for her, lifting one hand in a calming gesture. “Now, don’t panic. It sounds worse than it is, so no worries. The doc here gave her some snakebite juice, and now we’ll just watch her real close like. She’ll be right as rain in the morning.”

Helen’s eyes grew round, but thankfully she didn’t contradict him. He knew it was a risk. Knew that Marla was still in danger. But he had faith in God, and Helen, that the child would live. He urged Helen silently to help him reassure the family.

“Right. You see, the fact she’d been bitten when she hit her head was a good thing. It froze her lungs for just long enough that she never breathed in any water. She might have drowned, otherwise.” Helen looked at him for reassurance.

She was almost as good a liar as he was.

“Mrs. McIntyre? I’ll need you and your husband to wait in the parlor. I’m going to keep Marla here overnight while we administer the antivenom, and to treat any other symptoms she might have. If you would be more comfortable at home, I can send Nanara for you if anything changes.”

“We live so far away,” Christina answered, looking to her husband for guidance.

“I’ll stay here, and if anything happens, I can drive to your place in just few minutes, Christina,” Paul said. “Besides, nothing is going to happen, right?”

It took him more than ten minutes to talk the entire family into holding vigil at their home instead of in the tiny parlor. Something told him that Helen would be more relaxed without worrying over whether a family who didn’t trust her would be poking their heads in every five minutes, judging her.

Once they left, he helped move Marla to a bed in the next room. He placed a chair near the pillows for Helen, and another at the foot of the bed for himself. Then he settled in to wait.

Helen pressed her wrist to the girl’s forehead, frowned, and found a thermometer in the stand next to the bed. She listened to Marla’s heart while she waited for her temperature to register. When she read the mercury, she frowned again. “She has a fever. I was afraid of that.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not terribly high for a girl her age. One hundred and a half. We’ll have to keep a close eye on it. If it reaches 101, we’ll need to get some ice on her.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone so incredibly stiff. She sat straight and tall, like she had an iron bar running through the back of her dress. She wasn’t always like this. She hadn’t been nearly so formal the day they’d met. No, this particular attitude had come after his little trick to steal a kiss. She was refusing to let her guard down around him.

He couldn’t blame her. “You’re still angry with me, aren’t you? I know what you said last week, but I don’t believe you. I can tell.”

She didn’t look at him. “Now is not the time or the place for this discussion.” Her fingers trembled.

“You can’t stay angry forever, you know. You’ll have to let it go sometime.”

“You’d be surprised how long I can hold a grudge, Paul.”

“I have a surprise or two of my own, Doc.”

She snapped her head in his direction, and he winked. Color rose into her cheeks, either from annoyance or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t care. Either way, it proved he got to her. That’s all that mattered.

Paul stood and pulled his keys from his pocket.

“Where are you going?” Helen’s panicked voice was back.

He grinned. She was more than adorable. She was irresistible. “No worries. Just going to the icehouse by the docks to pick up a few blocks, just in case.”

“Oh.” Helen shifted in her chair. “Don’t be long.”

That was the first of several trips he made to the icehouse. By two in the morning, he’d woken the man in charge of the place so many times, he’d finally given Paul the key.

Marla’s temperature soared to 105 degrees at one point, her tiny body wracked with alternating fire and shivering cold. She still hadn’t spoken, or even opened her eyes.

Dark circles had formed under Helen’s eyes, and she refused every offer he’d made to wake Nanara. Each time he suggested it, between trips to the icehouse, she would square her shoulders and begin dousing the girl with icy towels again. It was as if she were taking Marla’s condition personally, somehow. As though she were somehow responsible.

He prayed the girl would live, not only for her. Not only for her parents. But for Helen. He didn’t know if she could withstand losing the girl after fighting through the fever like a damnable immortal hero.

All he knew for certain was how much he wanted her. The care she showed a girl she’d only met once in her life was testament to what kind of woman she was. A caring woman. A determined and proud woman.

The kind of woman he’d always wanted. Tough. Sure. Strong. The perfect mother for children he hadn’t even known he’d wanted before he’d met her.

Before tonight, he’d been attracted to her. Plain and simple lust. No, that wasn’t right. He’d experienced lust before. He was no stranger to bedding women. Helen was different. She made him think long and hard about what he wanted, not just now, but years from now.

Until this moment, he hadn’t been able to give the feelings a name. They were drastically different from anything he’d felt before.

Now he knew. He was falling in love with the town doc.

Marla’s fever had finally broken at just after four in the morning. Helen continued to bathe the child’s pale face and arms with the cool towel for another two hours before she tucked the blanket tightly around her shoulders and cleared away the basin and leftover ice.

Paul slept in the chair at the foot of the bed, his boots propped on the footboard like some Wild West cowboy in a dime novel. His arms were crossed and his chin tucked into his chest. He looked anything but comfortable, yet he’d stayed with her throughout the night. He’d run back and forth to the icehouse too many times to count, and when Helen struggled to keep her faith, she’d borrowed his.

Where did he find so much faith? she wondered. It oozed out of him, that heady confidence that bordered on arrogance. Of course, it wasn’t arrogance if he could back it up with action, was it? He’d believed in her even when she’d doubted herself. It was foreign, and refreshing, to have someone like him urging her to succeed.

If she closed her eyes and concentrated very, very hard, she could almost see herself spending the rest of her life with him. She had made so many wrong choices, however, it had become a frightening prospect to open herself up to more. What if he wasn’t all that he seemed? What if he changed into a monster after she’d surrendered her heart? What then? Would she find herself in the same horrendous position she’d been in just a few short months ago?

And what about her reputation? Already, the town buzzed with stories of their kiss. The sidelong glances she’d encountered from some of her patients over the course of the past few days told her Annie had been happy to share the tale with whomever would listen. If she gave in to Paul’s desire … if she gave in to her own desire … what would happen when he turned on her? How could she face living in a place where everyone knew her for the kind of woman she was?

She couldn’t do that again. She’d brought enough shame to her parents and herself back home. So much shame, in fact, that she’d been forced to leave and ultimately never return. She couldn’t do that to Doc, who had completely restructured his life and his practice to provide her with a place to live and a job.

She should be thankful for what she’d been given and keep her original goals. She would not fall for the handsome and dashing Paul Campbell. She couldn’t. It was too dangerous for all of them.

Nanara came into the small room carrying a breakfast tray. “You haven’t slept at all, have you?” She rested the tray on the bed beside Marla’s small, immobile legs.

“Not much. But she’s resting comfortably now, thank heaven.”

“Has she woken at all?”

“No,” Helen sighed. That was a concern, but hopefully Marla would wake later this morning with little memory of the night’s traumatic battle. “But her temperature is normal, finally. It’s a good sign. Would you tend her for a while this morning? I’m going to visit with her parents and bring them back to see her.”

“Of course. Have something to eat and freshen up a little. I can take over here.” She eyed Paul, still sleeping in his chair. “He was here all night, too, I see.”

Helen drew her gaze over Paul’s long, solid form, reclining in the chair so precariously it seemed as though he would fall over at any moment. He’d been like that for hours, making no movement, no sound. He’d fallen asleep just after Marla’s fever had broken.

Until that moment, he’d been as worried over the little girl as she had. He was one of the most caring men she’d ever known, born with something inherent in his being that most men lacked. The ability to feel. How she knew that, or what it meant, escaped her. She just knew it mattered. She knew he would never deliberately use her or any woman. She knew he would never harm anyone if he could help it. He was the kind of man who would give a lost stranger something to eat. The kind of man who genuinely cared about his friends, who took care of them.

He was exactly the kind of man she’d wished Reginald had been. Something invisible choked off the air to lungs for a moment before she pushed it away. That was all in the past now, and there was nothing she could do about it. As her mother had often reminded her, she’d made her bed, and now she had to lie in it. Alone.

Paul stirred slightly, shifting in the chair before he came awake. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Not long,” Helen answered, her cheeks burning with the unreasonable sensation that she’d been caught thinking about him. Surrendering her chair to Nanara, Helen crossed the room to do something. Anything. She rearranged the medical supplies on the top of the bureau, glancing in the mirror to the man behind her. She caught his eyes on hers and immediately shifted her attention to the jar of cotton swabs next to her hand.

“Have we heard anything from the McIntyres this morning?”

Standing as tall as she could manage, her shoulders back and her chin high, she turned around. “I thought I would borrow your car, if that’s okay with you, and pick them up. I’m sure they’re beside themselves waiting for news.”

“I’ll get them, love. You need to rest.”

Why did he care whether or not she rested? She’d already answered the question, of course—because he cared about everyone. Even those people he knew who didn’t deserve it. But that didn’t explain why he refused to believe she was still angry with him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact she didn’t believe it herself.

She wasn’t angry.

She was terrified.

“Welcome to Castle-Winters, Dr. Stanwood.”

Helen took the hand offered to her by a very pregnant Emily Winters. Hers was the first American accent she’d encountered in more than three weeks, since she’d disembarked the ship that had carried her from San Francisco.

Beside her, a tall man with dark blond hair and blue eyes smiled a welcoming grin and clapped Paul on the arm.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winters. I’ve heard so much about your family since I arrived.”

“All good, I hope,” interjected Dale Winters.

“Oh yes, of course.”

Emily took Helen’s arm and shot a glare at her husband. “Why don’t you come inside and have a little lemonade while we get to know each other? The boys can bring in your supplies.”

Emily led Helen up wide wooden steps to a porch that wrapped around the front and sides of a large Victorian home. A pair of rocking chairs waited expectantly on either side of a low table to the side of a front door painted light green. At the foot of the table, a brightly colored rocking horse, just large enough for a toddler to sit on, waited for a child to play.