Page 17 of His Unforgettable Bride
Tabitha rose, shed her coat, and draped it over the back of a chair before sitting on a corner chair beside the table. Her weary face slumped, but her hair twisted like ivy climbing a wall. “You should be on your way, Icala. I know your wife is unwell today, and we’ve kept you far longer than planned. Thank you for helping.”
The cook stood and returned the roll of bandages to the table. “I hate to leave you in a lurch.”
“You’re not,” Livy added. “We’ll be fine.”
Icala hesitated, his eyes roaming to the patient one last time before saying farewell and leaving the room. If the part-time cook hadn’t helped cart the wounded man into the house, they’d still be struggling in the woods.
But now they had another task. “Shouldn’t we ask Icala to help lift the patient into bed?” Juliet asked.
“We’ll manage.” Livy was cleaning the fellow’s dirty hands, delicately and lovingly wiping between each finger with her cloth. “We often assisted our father in and out of bed during his illness, didn’t we, Tabby?”
“Yes, but he was never unconscious.” Tabitha mopped her brow with the back of her hand. “Before we move him, I must rest a stint longer. I’m exhausted. Then Juliet and I shall change into dry garments.”
The fire crackled, and Juliet turned to reposition the logs with the poker, recalling how she’d once played a nursemaid. “When my grandfather suffered after a fall, I fed him soup, gave him his medicine, read him Bible stories, and changed his garments.”
She added another log to the flames, set the poker in the brass holder, and turned around.
Livy was smiling at her, sympathy in her eyes. “How old were you?”
“Eight.”
“What a blessing you must have been to him.” Tabitha tidied the table, grouping the similar medical items. “However, you’ll not assist with our patient’s personal care. We dare not shock your sensibilities.”
Truth be told, Juliet’s sensibilities had received a robust jolt long ago. Just as she’d seen dead bodies back in England, she’d also witnessed naked ones on the streets. If the sisters learned the truth, they’d probably suffer from heart tremors.
Juliet decided a change in subject was in order. “So what about your family? If this is your nephew, what brought him here?”
Livy sat back on her haunches. “Our brother served in the Royal Navy and raised his family beyond England. It’s the reason we haven’t laid eyes on Alex in years. According to one of his letters, he’s in a dire financial bind, partly why he’s coming to reside with us.”
Tabitha bent to unlace her mud-caked shoes. “By the time Livy and I arrived at the colony fourteen months ago, he’d already moved north to Barkerville to mine gold.”
“I see.” Taking Tabitha’s lead, Juliet removed her grimy shoes and placed them near the hearth to dry. Then she straightened to glance at the unconscious man again. Was he the sisters’ relative, or merely a poor soul left in the woods to die?
Livy picked a leaf from his shoulder, which she discarded on the tarp. “Our father built this house to reunite his family under one roof. Unfortunately, he passed on a few weeks after we arrived.”
“I’m sorry.” Even though Juliet’s grandfather had died eleven years ago, the sting remained sharp as a claw. She hadn’t wanted to eat, drink, or live after he perished. In time, the loneliness seeped away little by little, but it never ran empty. “Do your brother and his wife also live here?”
A moment passed before Livy added, “Nolan and Katherine returned to our manor between Bristol and London after our father’s death. And we’re not offended by the slight if their departure had anything to do with our arrival. Tabby and I are too busy planning our tea shop to fret over such things.”
It was clever how the sisters pointed toward the future, not the past. If Juliet paid attention, she might learn more than manners and how to pour tea. Would they genuinely help her become more ladylike? If so, could she possibly wed an upstanding fellow one day?
Tabitha stood and held her dirty shoes away from her body. “Perhaps one of us should collect the constable.”
Constable? Juliet shuddered. Her one encounter with the law had ended in disaster. A lawman had hauled her to an orphanage, which still starred in her nightmares. Even though being on the streets homeless had been bad, the orphanage had felt like a prison. She’d been alone, bullied, and hungry. Quickly she’d adopted a motto: offer the legal authorities a wide berth.
Livy rose and wiped her hands with the wet rag before depositing the cloth on the table. “Involving the constable may cause more problems than help.”
Tabitha leveled a stern look at her sister. “What if this young man’s family searches for him and has contacted the local authorities? It certainly is a possibility.”
“But if he is our nephew, and I fully believe he is, he’d prefer to avoid all lawmen.”
Why? Was Juliet not the only person in the house with a criminal past?
Frizzy hairs now framed Tabitha’s serious face. “In my opinion, it’s a mistake to assume he’s our relation based on nothing but intuition.”
Livy waved her hands as she spoke. “In my opinion, it’s better to be optimistic than pessimistic.”
Based on Tabitha’s tight expression, she probably wanted to roll her eyes but was too much of a lady. Instead, she spoke calmly. “I’m not a pessimist. I’m cautious.”
