Chapter 6 - Homework
"Ma, is he goin' die?"
"I certainly hope not. Doc Sweton thinks he's going to be okay. As long as he doesn't get an infection."
"Petey says he's going to die", the young boy replied knowingly.
"Don't listen to your brother. He exaggerates."
Mrs. Michaelson finished straightening the sheet on the bed and looked pitifully at the unconscious man. When her oldest son and her husband had brought the bloody man home, she found it hard to believe that he was still alive.
"Do you think he has a family?"
"He's wearing a wedding ring so I expect he does", she answered matter of factly.
"He sure is handsome", the fourteen-year old girl in the bedroom said wistfully as she looked at Jack's bare chest, and then imagined his naked body underneath the sheet.
"Keep your eyes where they belong, young lady. You can go bring me a pitcher of water to put on his nightstand."
"Make Matthew do it. I'll stay and keep an eye on him."
"Elizabeth", her mother said sternly. It hadn't escaped her attention that while the doctor was tending to the wounded Mountie, her teenage daughter had been busy brushing her hair, pinching her cheeks to add some color, and changing into her Sunday-best blouse.
"Yes, ma'am", the girl answered sullenly. She took a final longing look at Jack before she walked out of the room, passing by her younger brothers and sister who were hovering around the bed.
"Do you think he's got kids?", the ten-year old boy asked as he stared at Jack's weapon, knowing that he dared not touch it, as it hung in its holster on simple wooden peg on the wall.
"I can't imagine why a Mountie would have a stack of diapers if he didn't."
"Why hasn't he woken up yet?"
"It looks like he had a really rough day."
"Do you think it was the mountain man that axed him?" the youngest child in the family asked as she looked at bloodied clothes on the floor.
"Let's not talk about it anymore. He needs his sleep so let's let him rest. And you children need to do your homework."
"But Ma!"
"Homework. Your sister can help you while I make dinner", the middle-aged woman said as she gathered up the torn and bloody clothes and ushered her children out of the small bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Poor man. He's been through the ringer.
In his foggy mind, Jack had heard the voices. But the words were almost entirely an incomprehensible jumble. Only two words broke through the curtain of unconsciousness.
Elizabeth.
Homework.
Elizabeth and Homework.
The words brought him back to another Elizabeth and another time. A time before he had ever made love to her. Before he had ever held her in his arms and kissed her firm breasts with the familiarity of a husband. Before he had dared to do more than hope of a family with her.
Elizabeth, can you have dinner with me tonight?
"I'm sorry, Jack but I've got way too much work to do."
"I thought the students were supposed to have the homework, not the teacher", Jack had teased her as he had leaned against the door frame of the schoolhouse in the evening sunlight.
Elizabeth had let out a sigh. "I know. But they've turned in their essays, plus I have to grade their math tests. And I still have to work on the Christmas pageant."
"You have to eat."
"I know, but I'll be miserable company."
"How about I be the judge of that?"
"You're a Mountie, not a judge", she teased him as she stood up and shuffled her papers. "But I will let you walk me home."
"And?"
Elizabeth smiled despite her tiredness after spending hours in the schoolhouse. "And I'll invite you to stay for dinner. . .
. . . But it will just be sandwiches", she let him know.
Jack had chuckled as Elizabeth walked across the room towards him.
"I'll take sandwiches."
He picked up her woolen scarf and thick winter coat; the only garments left on the row of pegs which lined the back wall of the school house, and held up the coat to her.
She smiled as she turned her back to him and reached her arms backwards into the sleeves. As she moved her arms into the material, Jack pulled the coat up and forward, over her small shoulders.
His body was just inches away. She smelled his clean soapy scent, letting her know that he had taken the time to bathe after his rounds that day and before coming to see her.
He rightly suspected that a warm tingle went through her body as he turned her around and then placed the scarf around her neck.
As she pulled her hair out from under the coat and scarf, she said a silent thank you that the weather hadn't made her tresses turn into a bundle of frizz that day.
"There. Now you're bundled up against the snow", Jack had remarked pleasantly as he tied the scarf in a loose knot around her neck.
"I just need to put on my gloves", she noted as she reached into her pockets.
"Actually I was planning on keeping your hands warm."
He moved towards her, and she suddenly felt the miniscule muscles on her skin contract and form little goose bumps on her arms.
Slowly she backed up a step and found herself with her back an inch from the hard wall and her front an inch from Jack. Despite the fact that he was wearing a coat, she knew how muscled his body looked under the layers.
"Jack", she questioned softly.
"Hmm", he said as he gently picked up a lock of her hair and began twirling it around one of his fingers.
He smiled at her, knowing how he made her feel.
They had only been courting for a few months but Jack had realized that as he had become more confident around her, Elizabeth had started to become more tongue-tied, especially when they were alone together.
"You shouldn't stand so close to me", she said breathlessly.
"I like standing close to you."
He leaned towards her, and raised one of his arms, placing his hand on the wall behind her, trapping her beneath his body.
"But . . . someone might see us." She swallowed an uneasy gulp as she tried not to think about how incredibly handsome he looked.
"We're just talking", he noted with a twinkle in his eyes.
Elizabeth nervously tried to think of something to say; something to keep the conversation going so she didn't stand there like a love-struck girl staring longingly at his lips.
She knew what he was going to do. He was going to kiss her and leave her entirely breathless and wanting more.
Her whole body wanted him to take her into his arms and make passionate lustful love to her despite knowing how utterly impractical that was. After all, they were dressed in thick coats, standing in a school house, and not married.
Although she ashamedly suspected that if only two of those three things were true, she would be a more than willing participant.
Elizabeth swiftly shifted her gaze from Jack's ever-so desirable mouth to the papers in her arms.
"I've graded so many papers, I feel like I've absorbed the homework by osmosis. I probably taste like homework", she said quickly, practically fumbling over her words.
Right after she spoke, she realized the implication; that she wanted Jack to taste her.
She blushed and looked down at her boots, avoiding Jack's eyes. He probably thinks I'm a forward hussy, she thought to herself.
"Hmm. Taste like homework? I'll be the judge of that. . . Even if I am just a Mountie", he had said huskily as he lifted her chin and slowly leaned his head down towards hers.
He found her lips warm and soft. They tasted delicious - like wintergreen, and he realized that she had been expecting him to come for her after school. Preparing for his lips. His kiss. His taste.
"Homework never tasted so good", he whispered before moving away.
"Well, shall we go? I think we have some sandwiches to make for dinner", he said with a grin, pretending not to notice Elizabeth's heavy breathing and her disappointed look that he had pulled away.
As Jack's body fought to repair itself, his mind continued to drift in and out of consciousness.
He heard the sound of the door creaking open but he was too tired to open his eyes so he lay there wondering if he was still dreaming.
He felt the presence of someone near him. He felt the soft fingers on his wrist. But still . . . he didn't know if it were real or if it was his mind teasing him.
Someone pulled back the sheet which covered his body and he flinched when the fingers touched his wounds.
The woman removed the thick pads of gauze covering each wound before picking up the small brown bottle from the nightstand.
Following the doctor's instructions she held a cloth by each wound to soak up the drips as she gently poured the purplish liquid onto the newly stitched skin. The man jerked slightly but remained unconsciousness.
She waited patiently while the iodine dried before she re-covered the injuries. The woman knew that if the man was her husband or one of her children, she would gently blow on the wounds to quicken the drying time.
But somehow, it seemed too personal with him. That would be something his own wife would do.
As she returned the bottle of iodine to the nightstand, she looked at the man and then turned her eyes to the photograph.
She had found it in his jacket pocket when she had taken his clothes outside to wash. After she had emptied the garments, she had scrubbed them with strong lye soap until the water had changed from red to pink and eventually clear of the tinge of his blood. If she had time tonight, she'd sew the three large rips caused when the ax sliced into him so he would have something to wear if he recovered.
Mrs. Michaelson set the black and white photograph back onto the nightstand. It was a simple picture and she realized it was quite lovely in its casualness.
A woman wearing a light-colored knit hat and the man in a cowboy hat. They looked happy; like the photograph had been taken without much serious planning. There was no child in the picture so Mrs. Michaelson assumed that it was taken when the couple was courting or engaged or even newly married.
He must have a child now. Or expecting one. Why else would he have the diapers.
Oh dear, I hope he lives. For the sake of his family.
It was late by the time Elizabeth put aside the students' papers and made her way into the bedroom.
She paused to look at Thatch, who was sleeping soundly in his bassinet. He had kicked off his thin blanket so she covered him again, knowing that he would most likely kick it off again within the hour.
Despite the warm weather during the day, a night chill had crept into the mercantile home.
As Elizabeth sat on the side of her bed and took off her woolen slippers, she sighed in exhaustion.
She hoped that she was tired enough.
She had purposely stayed up two hours later than usual, hoping that she would be so tired that when she finally crawled into bed, sleep would come quickly. She didn't want to spend another night lying in the darkness worrying about Jack.
Five minutes later, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her eyes.
Her feet were cold.
Not just cold.
They were lonely. They needed Jack's warm legs to smoosh under.
She needed to hear him laugh and complain that he couldn't possibly sleep with her cold feet under him.
She needed him.
Knowing that she still wasn't tired enough to allow her mind to stop worrying, she climbed out of bed and went back to her desk, turning on the dim light.
She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob as she finished grading homework.
Up next: Chapter 7
