Page 270 of Conveniently Wed
His insides clenched as if in the grasp of a giant fist. Never in the years of living with Aunt Mary had she ever hinted that he was a nuisance or a bother, and now she said he was of no use to her. The acid words burned a wound in his heart.
Stella must have understood. She touched his shoulder, brought his attention to her. “She didn’t mean it. She’s not in her right mind. Don’t let it bother you.”
Bruce eased his breath out, letting it take his troubled thoughts with him. “I won’t.” It was Stella’s words that made it possible to dismiss what Aunt Mary said. He squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what to do for her.”
Stella remained kneeling at the bedside.
He cupped his hand over her head. Her brown hair hung in a braid down her back.
She lifted her gaze to him. “I don’t either. Although she’s a little warm, I don’t think she is fevered. When I checked her burn at bedtime there was no sign of infection, although…” Her voice drifted off.
“What? What are you thinking?”
“I suppose it’s possible for there to be infection coming from the bone. But in any case, all we can do right now is keep an eye on her.” The worry lines on her face disappeared in a narrow smile. “And try and keep her from disturbing her injured leg.”
Aunt Mary continued to mumble and reach into the air for things that didn’t exist.
“And pray. That’s the one thing Aunt Mary would suggest we do.” His hand still on Stella’s head, he bowed. “Lord God, the great healer, please ease Aunt Mary’s mind so she can rest, and if there is infection anywhere, please see fit to heal it. Thank you. Amen.” Reluctantly, he lifted his hand from Stella’s head. “I’ll stay with her so you can go back to bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep for worrying about her. I’ll stay. You go.”
“I won’t leave her.”
Stella’s gaze burned through his, rich with what he took for as approval. Because he cared about his aunt? Or was it because he was willing to stay? Given her worry about him leaving heassumed it was the latter and hoped she would realize he wasn’t a leaving sort of person.
“You sit here, and I’ll get a chair.” He stood and let her take his place on the edge of the bed then brought in a chair. He parked it close enough that he and Stella were elbow to elbow. He wanted to reassure her. Strange as it was, given their short acquaintance, he also wanted the comfort of her presence. Something about her—her words, her pleasure in home and family, her very being—had consumed the time he would normally need to feel this connection to another person. Not that he’d ever felt it. Certainly not with Louella.
Of course, being married helped the process. Gave him the right to hope for more.
Aunt Mary shot up in bed. “You rascals. Get away from my shed.” She shook her fist at unseen intruders.
“She’s remembering when someone set fire to her shed. All because of me. She paid a price for taking me in.”
“She loved you. Loves you still. I think she would say it was worth whatever it cost her.”
The lamplight filled Stella’s eyes with golden light. Warm and welcoming. He wasn’t quite willing to believe it wasn’t his imagination that thought so. “I wonder if you will regret marrying me simply to get back here.”
“I don’t think Aunt Mary regrets having given you a home. Nor do I.”
Was it possible she meant he was welcome on a level deeper than a marriage for business benefit only? Or was it simply the midnight hour making him think the impossible was possible?
They finally settled Aunt Mary, and Bruce eased his thoughts back into the reality of the life he and Stella had agreed to.
For a time, Aunt Mary was quiet. He was about to suggest again that Stella return to her bed even though he didn’t want tospend the rest of the night alone, when his aunt called out and again reached for things in the air.
A little later, she quieted, and dawn reached into the room. He turned the lamp out and yawned. “She hasn’t stirred in quite some time.”
Stella stretched. “If you stay with her, I’ll get dressed and make coffee.” She slipped from the room.
Bruce watched her go. With her departure, the air had grown strangely thin, making it impossible to get a satisfying breath into his lung.
“Bruce, what are you doing here?”
He turned his attention to his aunt. “You had a rough night.”
“I remember awful dreams. People coming and going.” She looked around the room. “There was no one here but you?”
“And Stella. We stayed with you to keep you safe. You tried to get out of bed. How are you feeling now?”
