Chapter 19
Lucas woke to the sun's rays reaching for the inside of the cave. The girl was sleeping against him, breath laboured. A quick check of her forehead spoke of still high fever. He slipped out of the covers, surprisingly well rested and warm to his toes.
The horses seemed none the worse for their night in the mountains, greeting him eagerly. There was grain in both Pinto's and Spirits saddlebags, so Lucas fed them, trusting them to get water from the little brook.
Returning to the dimness of the cave, he found the patient tossing around again. Her face was pale with high spots of colour on her cheeks, her expression drawn.
"Emery."
She startled at his voice, but instead of calming like she had done last night, tried to crawl away from him. Lucas frowned, touching the moist cloth to her face.
"Emery, what's eating at you?"
She tried to sit up, eyes feverish and unseeing, movements erratic. "Need to tell…" One hand reached up to her head, a move as if to dislodge the scarf. With a small sound of pain she collapsed, pressing both hands to the wound.
Lucas had jumped to and caught her before she hit her head against the stone wall. "Calm, woman, you'll hurt yourself. Lie down." He found he used the same voice he reserved for sick Mark, or a spooked horse.
But it would not work on the young woman. "Need to tell… trust… betrayed…" Lucas tried to catch the fluttering hands, conveying security with his grip. "Stayed too long… too easy."
Torn between fascination and concern, the rifleman bent over his farmhand, searching the expressive face for all the things he had missed before. Her eyes roamed, taking in nothing, seeing only the inside of her own mind.
"Shh, calm down. You need rest." He sounded helpless even to himself.
She cried out in desperation. Ah, she was remembering the accident.
Sudden intuition flooded Lucas. "The accident was the reason you stayed…" He touched a hand to the narrow face in emotion.
Nobody would have frowned had Eirik left the McCain's employment at the beginning of summer. Quite the contrary, this was the time to leave if looking for something new… But he – she – had stayed on, needed sorely since Lucas would be unable to work for the next two months. A harder, more selfish person might have bargained for better pay… or left despite the situation, leaving the McCains to fend for themselves. They had the help of the town, another farmhand would appear…
"Here, take a sip of water. Next time it will be Willow bark, I promise."
Lucas made the young woman drink.
"…never meant… the lie…"
She was working herself up again.
Yes, the lie… it must have taken on a life of itself for the young woman, something she had not anticipated. If she'd left during the summer, the McCains would have lost a farmhand, and missed a friend, Lucas admitted angrily, but nobody would have been the wiser.
"We'll talk about this at home." He tried to convey calm reassurance, but had to admit he might be failing. "Drink."
He had to get her onto one of the horses and home to the farm. He'd figure out how to handle the Doc – or maybe not, let her explain herself once she was lucid.
The patient's head fell back in sheer exhaustion, fingers curled in Lucas's large hand. The rifleman considered their options for a moment. Then he stood, staring down on her with a heavy frown.
"Nothing for it, youngster. I need to get home to Mark."
Packing the remainder of their things and saddling the horses was a thing of minutes, then he faced the difficulty of what to do with the girl. Finally he wrapped her in the blanket for warmth, hoisted her first onto Spirit's back and then in front of himself across the saddle, cradling her against his chest the way he would a sleeping Mark. Her head rested against his shoulder. He had forgotten the bright hazel hair – but now that he had her settled against him, he could not care anymore. He spurred the piebald gently. Spirit would follow them on his own.