Page 34 of Brian and Cora
Brian brushed at the stray petals on his shirt. “Some brother you are,” he groused.
Hank smirked. “You’ll see soon enough.”
They passed Torin’s house, the shutters drawn over the windows. Hiding like a gopher in a hole. Hopefully, when Seth left tomorrow after staying overnight at Hank’s, his friend would emerge with Jewel. He’d managed to save the child one piece of taffy, having given out the rest to Seth’s family and the posse members.
When the path curved around the third lake bend, Brian couldn’t help a spurt of expectancy. Home. As the wagon drove through the last stand of trees, he anticipated the first view of his snug cabin set on a stretch of sand before the lake.
But instead, the house had almost doubled in size, the formerly-weathered gray boards painted a fresh brown, and a wide porch running the length of the original cabin. His mouth dropped open. “What the dev—” he caught himself “—dickens!” He blinked, and then blinked again. Has the laudanum affectedmy brain? Am I seeing things? He rubbed his eyes and, when the view remained the same, clenched his fists on a wave of anger.
“Wasn’t my doing.” Hank swung down from the saddle, flicked Chipper’s reins around the porch rail, and sauntered over to the wagon. “Your nurse needed her own bedroom.”
“Nurse? I don’t need a nurse. I can take care of myself.” Brian didn’t need some old besom, he mentally spat out a disparaging description he’d heard his Scottish grandfather use, intimately touching him, ordering him around.
A woman stepped out from the porch shadows, her carriage proud. Contrary to his image of a pinch-faced, narrow-eyed older woman with white hair pulled back in a tight bun, she was young. And not just young, pretty. She coolly gazed at him with intelligent gray eyes.
Something about her shook him to his bones.
I’m in trouble now.
Brian castthe young woman a glance of loathing before turning to glare at his so-called friend.
Hank held up his hands in an I’m innocent move. “Andre Bellaire wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”
“Bellaire? Don’t know the man. I’ve heard of him, of course. I would have been quite comfortable without this….” He jerked his thumb to indicate the porch and back addition. “And why build onto my house?”
“Because your nurse needs her own room.” Hank beckoned the woman forward. “This is Miss Cora Collier. She’ll take care of you until you’re up and about.”
“I’m up and about now.”
Hank raised an eyebrow, directing a pointed look at Brian’s definitely not up and about body. “Not like you to tell a lie.”
Seth tied off the reins, set the brake, and climbed off the wagon seat, stopping to stretch out his legs and open and close his hands several times. He glanced over at the house and back to Brian, a glint in his silvery eyes. “Not what you expected, eh?”
Brian grunted, not bothering to dignify the question with an answer.
With friendly aplomb, Seth ambled over and unhitched the back gate of the wagon. “You ready for this?”
Up until five minutes ago, Brian had been so ready to reach his house and shut the door on the world. But now, he wished he could run away. Heck, he’d settle for gimping away. Somewhere far away.
“You!” He jabbed a finger toward where the woman stood. “Stay there. Don’t move.” He didn’t need an interfering female trying to involve herself in what would be a painful transition from wagon to the ground to the house.
Her eyebrows drew together in apparent concern. But at least she didn’t move. Yet.
Right then and there, Brian determined he wouldn’t use the young woman’s name, wouldn’t even think her name. He’d pretend she wasn’t here. Hopefully, she’d quickly tire of being shunned and beat a retreat down the mountain.
Catching Hank and Seth’s attention, Brian nodded his readiness, braced himself for the pain, and scooted slowly toward the back of the wagon, trying to put as much weight on his hands as possible.
Seth and Hank positioned themselves on either side of his legs, leaning in to grab his upper arms and slide him the rest of the way, carefully setting him on one foot.
Throughout the excruciating process, Brian wanted to let out a string of curses against the agony. Hank and Seth, being men,would have understood. But Hank and Seth, being gentlemen, would have boxed his ears for cussing in front of a lady. As Brian would have done if the situation were reversed.
The next pain-filled moments he endured in gritted-teeth, stiff-necked silence, feeling queasy and lightheaded. He only muttered the minimum words when need be, like when Hank asked if he wanted to use the privy.
He didn’t particularly but knew he should. Better use the outhouse while they can help me hobble there. Once I’m down, I probably won’t be able to get back up. “Yes.”
Brian suffered through the pain and indignity of what came next. Then, as the faint streaks of pink and gold and violet slowly darkened against the purpling sky, the two helped him hobble-hop back to the house and up the step to the porch.
Stepping inside his home, he saw the woman had lit the lamps, far more lights than the lantern that hung on a hook near the door and the writing lamp he kept on his desk. A third one, brass, with a translucent glass ball around each of the two flames, perched on top of the bookshelf. A small night candle burned inside a glass chimney on a tiny table next to his bed. The air smelled of beeswax and vinegar. No doubt every inch was scrubbed and polished.
