Читать книгу The Negotiated Marriage - Christina Rich - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Decide things between us? The words had rushed out of his mouth without thought, and he watched her mouth open and close like the wings of a butterfly. A response must have formed on the tip of her tongue, but not a single one released. And truly he knew how she felt, as he didn’t have anything else to say either. Nothing could ever be between them, but for the time being he’d pretend otherwise and let her think so, as well. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if she and her sister decided to stand against three armed men, and if these men were on a payroll financed by his bank account as the sisters seemed to think, it was his business.

“Camy, sit down before you fall over,” he demanded, and prepared himself for a possibility that these were men hired by the railroad to torment innocent, helpless females.

As he stepped beneath the stoop, pulling the door closed behind him, a tall lanky man with a rifle propped against his shoulder jumped from the back of the buckboard before the driver even slowed his horse. Another man of smaller stature climbed from the passenger side and rushed to the other man’s side. The driver slid the brake into place and dropped the reins. He pulled a black bag from the back of the buckboard, and Duncan eased the tightness from his lungs. These were no railroad thugs. “You must be the Northrops.”

The tall one pushed his bowler above his brow and squinted through the pouring rain. “And you must be the one who shot my fiancée.”

Duncan felt his brow rise beneath his hair at the news. If this man was Camy’s fiancé, then why was Duncan’s marriage to her part of the land acquisition? “Your fiancée?”

The man curled his nose. “Cameron Sims.”

“Come, now, Miller. She hasn’t agreed to be your wife.” The more distinguished-looking gentleman with the black bag dried his palm down the front of his coat and held it for Duncan to shake. “Dr. Benjamin Northrop. This here is my brother Dr. Julius Northrop and of course this is my other brother, Miller, who has yet to gain the lady’s agreement.”

“That is a minor detail.” Miller stepped onto the stoop and, hovering over Duncan, glared down at him. “She will be my wife.”

Duncan did not appreciate the underlying threat, as it seemed more directed at Camy than himself even though she was on the other side of the door. Miller’s hawklike nose, and ashy pallor reminded Duncan of a devious captain he’d encountered during the War Between the States who’d seized homes when he felt it necessary and stole food from the mouths of babes to feed his hounds. That reminder alone did not bode well for Miller, not if Duncan had anything to do about it.

Miller made to move around him, but Duncan shifted, blocking his entrance, and glanced at Benjamin. “If, as you say, your brother is not Miss Sims’s fiancé, I must insist only one of you attend her. Preferably you, Dr. Northrop,” he said, nodding toward Benjamin. “As you seem to be a professional seeking to give medical help, not a jaded beau come to demean the lady.”

Miller puffed out his chest like a rooster on the strut. “Listen here,” he snapped as his brother Julius cocked back the hammer on his revolver.

Resting his hand on Julius’s, Benjamin lowered the weapon. “Julius, he has the right of it. Miller, you are in no condition to speak to Cameron. Allow me to assess her, and then if she wishes to see you, you may enter. Until then you two may wait out here.”

“What about him?” Miller’s lip curled in disgust.

Benjamin shook his head. “I suggest he wait out here with the two of you.”

The corner of Miller’s mouth twitched in an arrogant smirk. Duncan didn’t blink at the young man’s bluster. He’d dealt with shiftier men in his days, men who’d threatened life and limb if he didn’t bend to their will, men like his father.

“However,” Benjamin continued, “I do not wish to treat another gunshot wound. After you,” he said to Duncan, sweeping his hand in front of him.

Duncan opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit cabin. “It’s all right, ladies. It’s the Northrops.” It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but not long enough that he didn’t notice Camy now sat on the edge of the bed, her hands properly folded in her lap, her cheeks pale. Despite the relief in her eyes at his words, lines of agony creased her brow. It also didn’t go beyond his notice that the bed swayed as if she’d recently jumped on the mattress. Ellie’s skirts had a similar motion while she hunched near the fire. He had no doubt the ladies had eavesdropped on the conversation between him and the Northrops.

As Benjamin Northrop closed the door behind him, Ellie straightened, ran her hands down her skirts and nodded. “Dr. Northrop.”

“Ellie.”

“Where’s Mara?” Ellie asked, easing some of Camy’s agitation at not seeing her youngest sister.

“I insisted she stay with my sister, Bella, until I knew what sort of trouble you ladies have gotten yourself into.”

Ellie huffed. “You could have sent one of your brothers in to treat my sister if we’re such a bother.”

“Yet I am the one with experience with these sorts of injuries.” He shrugged out of his coat and laid it across the end of the bed. “What have you done to yourself, Camy?”

Even in her discomfort she teased, feigning innocence. “I haven’t done a thing. This t-time.”

“So I’ve heard.” Benjamin laughed as he pressed his fingers to her wrist. “Pulse is strong. That is good news.”

Duncan knew he should turn away as the doctor pulled Camy’s sleeve from her shoulder to inspect her wound, yet he could not tear his eyes from hers. He’d caused her this pain, and he intended to bear as much as he could with her. If only he could trade places with her.

“Mr. Murray.” Ellie’s voice pulled his attention from Camy’s crinkled eyelids. “Would you mind moving the table closer?”

Once he moved the table, Ellie placed a bowl of steaming water next to the doctor along with strips of clean linens and then scooted a chair beside Camy for Northrop to sit. It was as if the two had worked together before and the woman understood what he needed.

“Thank you, Ellie.” He dipped one of the clothes into the water and cleaned the wound. Bright red rivulets streamed from her wound, soaking into her shirt. Camy groaned.

Camy’s sister grumbled something unintelligible and then said, “I know you would save her the pain if you could...” Her words muffled beneath the hand covering her mouth. Dr. Northrop reached out toward her, but Ellie spun from him.

“I’ll be fine, Ellie.” Camy put on a brave face even as she grimaced.

Duncan sat next to her and took her cold hand in his. Although she wore dry clothes, she had yet to warm from her fall into the river. Dr. Northrop swabbed a clean cloth over the wound. Flinching, Camy gripped Duncan’s fingers.

Dr. Northrop looked up from his work and frowned. “I’m sorry, Camy. I’m afraid your discomfort has just begun. Would you rather sleep until we’re done?”

She shook her head, her damp hair dancing around her. Dr. Northrop pulled a silver implement from his bag. Duncan clenched his teeth and then positioned himself and turned her toward him so that they faced each other. He’d seen men die as they rushed into battle. And he’d seen men die in the surgeon’s tent, not from the procedure itself, but from the chloroform. He didn’t wish her to die, but he didn’t wish her to be awake either.

She pulled her hand from his and brushed the tips of her fingers over the bruising of his eye. “Benjamin, you should tend to Mr. Murray’s injury.”

“After we see the damage done to your shoulder,” Northrop responded.

Her attempts at distracting herself distracted him. The touch of her fingers against his skin near made him forget that she wasn’t his wife. Yet. Where had that come from? She would never be. He pulled her hand down and rested their clasped hands between them.

“Are you ready?” Northrop asked.

Drawing in a breath, she closed her eyes and nodded. Northrop cleansed the wound once again and then inserted the probe into the wound. Tensing every muscle, Camy cried out and then pressed her lips into a hard line. She fell forward, her head resting on his shoulder. For a moment, Duncan thought she’d passed out, but the grip on his fingers and the tears warming his shoulder through his rain-soaked shirt told him otherwise.

Benjamin sat back. The probe dropped into the bowl with a clink. “It doesn’t seem to have shattered the bone.”

Camy pulled away from his shoulder as air rushed from Duncan’s lungs in relief. He hadn’t realized how much he feared she might lose her arm until this very moment. His closest friend during the war had lost his leg when bone fragments caused the limb to become gangrenous.

“However, the ball is tucked in there tight. Camy, I know you don’t wish it, but I’m going to have to use the chloroform to dig it out.”

Pulling her lip between her teeth, she shook her head.

“I’ve seen grown men try, Camy. It’s too much to bear.” Ellie set another bowl of water on the table.

“Your sister’s right.” Dr. Northrop rested his elbows on his knees.

“I will not have my mind taken from me,” Camy argued, and then her voice quieted. “I know people have died. Ellie told me so.”

“That is true. I’ve seen it myself,” Duncan said, worried either way, knowing Northrop had no choice. “Do you trust Dr. Northrop?”

After a bit of hesitation, Camy nodded.

“He seems competent. It is right as rain to be brave, lass.” Duncan smoothed a wayward curl from her forehead. “I’ve been shot before.” He pushed his sleeve above his elbow and showed her the scar. “I have another here,” he said as he pointed to the middle of his chest. “And here on my leg. Chloroform was not always available on the battlefield. As much as I dislike telling you, the fact is, the pain is too much, even for a woman of courage such as yourself.”

Her brown eyes pooled with tears. He’d give every coin he had to trade places with her, to go back and choose not to be swayed by Hamish’s offer. “If it makes you more comfortable I will not leave your side and I’ll be here when you wake.”

She blinked. One lone tear crept from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She lowered her chin and drew in a slow breath. She glanced at him, the hint of a smile curving her mouth. “This is not your business.”

He patted her hand and smiled back. “As I said before, your business is my business until things between us are settled.”

* * *

“What things?” Miller ducked into the cabin, his bowler falling off as it skimmed against the frame. His straw-colored hair was plastered to his head, his hands were clenched at his sides and his face was ruddy. His bloodshot eyes, telling her he’d been drinking, narrowed when he caught sight of her hand held in Duncan’s. His glare deepened when he lifted his eyes to hers. “There is nothing that needs to be settled other than our marriage. The sooner the better, since it’s obvious you can’t care for yourself. What sort of fool gets herself shot?”

Camy stared at Miller in disbelief. He’d called her many things over the last months, had insinuated even worse, but he had never outright called her a fool to her face. Her face must have reflected the sting of his words.

As he unclenched his fist, Miller’s eyes softened. “I am sorry, Cameron. I don’t like you being hurt. If you would quit resisting the inevitable...why can’t you see that I am the only man willing to care for you?”

Willing. Camy had heard his argument before. There was never a confession of love, but what did she expect when her own father hadn’t loved her? Did Miller always have to make her feel helpless? Worse, did he have to speak her fears aloud? No man wanted her. Her father had proved that when he left her with Hamish. Even Miller’s pursuit had everything to do with Sims Creek.

Suddenly she felt tired and weak. She wanted to curl up in a corner and cry until all her troubles disappeared. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the warm palm anchored to her. Duncan gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before releasing his hold on her hand. The mattress shifted beneath his weight and released as he rose and crossed his arms over his chest. The loss of his calloused palm had her lying back against the pillow. She closed her eyes in hopes of keeping the tears from spilling. For good measure she covered her eyes with her uninjured arm.

“First,” Duncan said, “I will remind you that you are standing in Miss Cameron’s home and that you would do well to respect all of the ladies of this house, even if they have an inclination toward accidents. Second, I have known Miss Cameron only a short time and I have concluded she is capable of caring for herself. She does not need a husband. Certainly not one who abuses her with his sharp tongue.”

Despite the searing pain radiating throughout her upper body, and the ache in her heart, she felt giddy and had the urge to applaud Duncan’s performance. It was a performance, right? After all, he’d met her only a few hours ago, not enough time to judge her capabilities.

“You have no right to tell me what she needs and does not need,” Miller argued. “I have courted her for nigh unto two years.”

Camy snorted and felt Miller’s intense glare. His attempts at courting were akin to falling in a thornbush. His last attempt had landed him in the river near to drowning, and her under Mrs. Smith’s condemning eye for breaking the unspoken rule about a lady pushing a man into the river after he stole a kiss. A rule saying she was compromised and must marry. Camy had yet to discover if it was the river washing or the stolen kiss that deemed a lady soiled. But given that Mrs. Smith felt the need to act like a mother to the poor Sims sisters, the woman was adamant that Camy save her reputation and marry Miller. Much to Camy’s relief, Pastor Hammond came to her defense and spoke sound reasoning to Mrs. Smith, defusing the matter altogether.

Duncan stared Miller down. “At this moment, Mr. Northrop, I have every right.”

The cabin fell silent. The pop and crackle of wood as it burned in the fireplace and the drips of water seeping through the roof plopping into strategically placed pots were the only sounds. Slightly lifting her arm, she peered at the occupants in the cabin. All of them seemed to be holding their breath waiting for Duncan’s next words. Duncan leaned forward.

Lord, please don’t let him say anything about Hamish’s proposition. Please. I’m in no position to argue with Miller.

Although he was a head shorter than Miller, his fierce countenance caused Miller to shrink. “Miss Sims needs tending to without further delay.”

Miller grunted. His cheeks looked as if he’d been attacked by rouge. “You’ve no business here. In fact, as I see it you should be in jail. Has the sheriff been fetched?”

“Miller.” Ellie touched his arm. “Please, now is not the time.”

“Outside, Murray.” Miller circled his fists in front of him, ready to fight Duncan. Duncan looked as if he pitied the younger man.

Camy didn’t think Miller meant much harm. Only a year older than she, he was foolish and young, determined to get his way in all things. Mostly with her. And Sims Creek, the property adjoining his father’s. Miller’s father had coveted Sims Creek for years, even before the railroad’s interest, and it was obvious Miller carried on his father’s determination, but why, as it was decent farming land, nothing more? And Miller despised the idea of plowing fields and milking goats. Worse, he didn’t seem to like her much. He was always the first to tell her when her hair was unkempt. When the color of her dress was wrong. He even dared give her a tonic to do away with her freckles. Of course, she’d tried to scrub them away on occasion, but to no avail. She’d given up long ago on trying to obtain her sisters’ perfect complexions.

“Miller, I think you should return home if you won’t wait outside.” Benjamin, always the calm one of the brothers, tried to defuse the situation.

Miller crossed his arms. “Not until I hear what rights he has to tell me anything about my fiancée.”

Camy jerked her arm from her eyes. “I’ve never agreed to marry you, Miller Northrop.” Nor would she ever!

“It seems we all have things we wish to discuss,” Duncan added.

“Yes, we do,” Miller added.

“I am not discussing marriage.” Camy tried to sit, but Benjamin halted her progress by pressing a warm cloth to her shoulder. “To anyone.”

“She is right. Everyone outside, now.”

She could have kissed Benjamin Northrop’s cheek for intervening.

“I’m not leaving.” Ellie’s soft voice cut through the tension. Camy knew it cost her sister more than she’d ever say to be in the same room with the man who’d broken her heart, but she was beyond thankful for the sacrifice.

“I’m not leaving either.” Miller stomped his foot like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I am your apprentice and can help more than Ellie.”

“Ellie is a better doctor than most,” Camy argued, not wanting Miller and his unsteady hands to come anywhere near her.

“Any other patient and I would accept your assistance. However, brother, you’ve already done more harm than good by upsetting Camy. Her agitation has caused her wound to bleed more than it should. Besides, your hands are unsteady and your judgment is clouded by too much whiskey.”

Relieved at Benjamin’s soundness, Camy released the air she’d been holding.

“What about him?” Miller tossed.

“I’ll be staying.” Duncan’s words were like a boulder, unyielding. He glanced at her, his voice softened. “I gave my word.”

He had, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Duncan soothed her fears and gave her a sense of peace. “All right,” Camy said.

Miller huffed, swung the door wide and slammed it behind him.

“Shall we begin?” Benjamin asked.

Kneeling beside the bed, Duncan held her hand as Benjamin took a brown bottle from Ellie. The white cloth hovered outside her vision and then over her head before covering her nose and mouth. Her head dizzied, and her eyelids became heavy. The deafening silence broke with the opening of the cabin door and Hamish’s gruff voice.

“Ellie, lass, you best cook up a feast. The rev’nd will be here for dinner.”