Page 14 of Never Leave Me
With adrenaline pulsing through every vein, he stepped down tentatively, making sure both feet were firmly planted before moving to the next step. He took the first three stairs slowly, deliberately. The fourth he touched with only one foot, moving to the next and the next until, before he knew it, he was standing at the bottom looking up.
Ellen stood at the top watching him, the tears still trailing down her cheeks, her hand remaining over her mouth.
He wanted to jump up and let out a whoop. But aristocratic men like him didn’t give way to such exuberant displays. Instead, he grinned with the crazy pleasure of his accomplishment.
“Can you believe it?” He hopped to the bottom step, his face upturned toward her. He could hop. The thought sent such a rush through him that he hopped to the next step, and before he could stop himself, he was charging back up. By the time he reached the top, he was laughing with the joy of being able to move in a way he’d only dreamed about.
Ellen dropped her hand and smiled in response, her lips tremulous, her cheeks wet.
He had the sudden overpowering urge to bound down the steps again. He spun and this time ran. His heart pounded in tempo with his feet. His feet. He relished the clomp of his footsteps muted by the runner. When he reached the bottom, she was laughing through her tears.
“Have a look at this!” He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he slid to a stop in front of her, his chest was pounding hard, and his breath came in a burst. He was sure his grin was as wide as the universe. “Isn’t it splendid?”
Ellen’s eyes welled with tears again, tears of joy. “Oh Harrison.” Before he realized what was happening, she wrapped her arms around him and buried herself against his chest.
He could do nothing less than slide his arms around her in return and hold her tight. He felt the length of her long, supple body in a way he’d never experienced before, her legs brushing his, her knees, her hips, her waist. The contact was electric, even more overwhelming than her kisses had been.
Her body shook with silent sobs. He could sense her relief and amazement in each shudder.
For a moment, he held her, his eyes stinging too. The miracle was massive beyond anything he could have anticipated. It was too good to be true.
“Pinch me,” he whispered against the side of her head, her hair glorious and soft against his face.
“What?” Her voice wobbled.
“Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming.”
She squeezed, tightening her arms around him. “If you’re dreaming, then so am I.”
His throat ached with happiness. He lifted a silent prayer of thankfulness heavenward. He’d experienced a miracle. The holy water had fixed what was broken or damaged in his body, not only healing his paralysis but strengthening his muscles, rejuvenating his eyesight, and giving him fresh vitality. It was impossible to work it out any other way. He now understood why the stained-glass windows in the Trinity Chapel of Canterbury Cathedral had gained the name “Miracle Windows.”
Arthur had tested the holy water in the lab and so had Marian. Harrison had reviewed their tests and studied their conclusions. They hadn’t found anything within the molecular structure of the water that could be broken apart and examined—other than the compound of the water itself. The only explanation was that the life-giving residue wasn’t of this world. It was of God and heaven. God had wrought the miracle.
“You know what this means, don’t you, love?” Harrison closed his eyes and again relished every exquisite sensation of holding Ellen.
Ellen shook her head, not lessening her hold.
“It means you now need to drink the other flask of holy water.”
At his proclamation, she jerked back. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” Surely she knew he’d only ever been consumed with finding a cure for her, not himself. Of course, he couldn’t deny he’d sometimes entertained the fantasy that he could do what he was doing at that moment, hold her as a healthy and strong man. But her healing was more important than anything. In fact, he’d give up his life for hers if he could.
He held her chin and gently tipped up her head so she had nochoice but to meet his gaze. “I did this for you. I drank the holy water to convince you to take it.”
“There are so many others who need it.” Her lips trembled as she spoke. “So many sick children. Like Josie.”
He shook his head and fought against his rising frustration. “The second ampulla is for you, Ellen. Only you.”
“But how can I drink it when there are others worse than me?”
“Who’s worse? The doctors told us this morning they can no longer operate. You only have months—if not weeks—left.”
She nibbled at her lip, uncertainty bending her delicate brows together.
He pressed his hands on either side of her shoulders, marveling that he stood above her in height and for once was peering down at her and not the other way around. “Look, love. Your father and sister sacrificed themselves so they could give you this cure. You have to realize that’s why they did everything.” He couldn’t stop himself from brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We can’t let them down, can we?”
She hesitated.
