Timing
Part 4
Christine immersed herself in washing the dishes after her siblings and the men had left. She was acutely aware of the young man upstairs and it gave her mixed feelings. There was no denying she was attracted to him. His quietness and handsome dark looks intrigued her. In London, he had treated her with polite respect and a hesitancy that bordered on shyness at the same time showing interest in her.
Nick, her boyfriend in New York, had been blond, cocky and boisterous; just the thing to attract a naïve girl from the country. Like his older brother, Jake, Nick had been pure city, used to the lights and bustle of Manhattan that had initially scared Chris. Riding on his whirlwind way of dealing with life, the young girl had learned to be comfortable in the brick and concrete city, though not as comfortable as Terry had been.
Chris pondered her older sister. She admired Terry and wished she could be more like her. Maybe it was the 'education' the older girl had received in Italy. Being taught the Mafioso way by their maternal aunt, uncles and cousins had prepared Terry for dealing with the mob beside Jake when Scarlotta had tried to take over Jake's bar. Jake and Nick had tried to keep Chris safe and out of the way. Terry, with her switchblade, knowledge of Italian and penchant for picking up accents, had gotten right in the don's face, showing aggression rather than fear. It was this that kept the older sister alive. Christine did not think Craig or any of the rest of the family knew the price it had cost Terry. Nick had eventually told Chris that it was no longer safe for Terry to show her face in New York. Craig had gotten the two girls out of there just in time. Scarlotta had taken the bar away from Jake after Craig had hospitalized the ex-surgeon. It had been Terry's money that got the Bradford brothers to the relative safety of war torn England. Dirk and Tinker, both working for Shiv as Jake was known, had quickly followed. It was Dirk who told Chris how Nick's cocky attitude had resulted in his death by firing squad in France.
Judging by what Terry had told her about the young man upstairs, Chief was probably more deadly and dangerous than Nick could ever have become. He just did not seem like a cold-blooded killer with no remorse or regret for the people he had supposedly killed. Not that Crystal had any firsthand experience with cold-blooded killers . . . that she knew of.
As she put away the dry dishes and filled the feed and water dishes in the chicken box, Chris contemplated the other three men in the group. She had not read their dossiers, but Terry had filled her in on their pasts and their records. Casino, though more Chicago than New York, was the mouthy type of man she had become used to when hanging around Nick. Terry had told her that underneath the bluster was an intelligent and basically decent man.
Goniff was adorable in his own funny little way. According to Terry, the pickpocket and second story man was a borderline, if not an outright kleptomaniac. He was like a raven, attracted to bright and shiny small objects. Goniff was the optimistic one of the group, jesting and trying to keep the peace in the bunch, though he did like his practical jokes. Terry said he could also be quite serious when necessary.
That left Actor. Born years before the others, but by no means old, he was the natural one to be the second in command behind Garrison. Extremely intelligent, European, suave, and with an air of mystery, he was the most difficult to understand. Tending to keep to himself, even when with the others, it was almost impossible to determine what was the truth with him and what was the con. Or maybe it was all a con. Christine sensed a sadness about the man that he kept hidden. He was also dangerous. Looking back on the first time in London, Chris wondered how she had gotten the courage to just go up and kiss the man. Anger at her sister was the only explanation she could come up with, besides the fact he was a good looking man, even if he wasn't her type. Chris smiled. Terry was concerned about her and Chief. She should be more concerned about herself. Terry had always been attracted to the intelligent ones and with the Italian heritage and handsome Roman features thrown in besides, it was a sure thing she would be interested in the man. Chris had a feeling it was too late to put a curb on that, even though the girl didn't seem to realize she was in deep water already.
Satisfied the chicks were settled for the night, Chris turned off the kitchen light. Moving into the common room, she banked the fire in the fireplace and walked back to turn off the light by the door. In the dim light from the upstairs, Chris headed up. She had left a light on in Terry's room to cast a dim glow into the hallway. Walking quietly down the men's hall, she paused in front of Chief's door. Knuckles tapped lightly on the door.
"Come in," said Chief.
Chris entered, leaving the door open. She smiled at the man propped up in the bed, a book barely sticking out from under the covers as though shoved under in a hurry.
"I came to see if you needed anything," she said, moving over to his fireplace.
"No, I'm fine, thanks," said Chief quietly.
"Aren't you cold?" the girl asked, very much aware of bare shoulders and arms above the covers that were bunched up in the middle. Maybe he didn't own pajamas or a tee-shirt.
"Naw," replied Chief, watching the girl's back as she lowered herself to add wood to the fire. At her skeptical look over her shoulder at him, he shrugged. "A little I guess."
Chris straightened and turned toward him. "You have pajamas or something?"
Chief nodded. "In the bottom drawer of the armoire." He wasn't about to tell her he usually slept in just his shorts. Terry was used to seeing him shirtless, but this was Christine, not Terry. Maybe he should be a little bit more dressed around her.
Chris walked across the room and opened the armoire. Chief watched her as she bent at the knees to open the bottom drawer and retrieve a pair of pale blue pajamas. As she straightened again, he noticed the grace with which she moved. It was almost like a dancer, or maybe the deer in the woods. She approached him and held out the garments. He took them from her with a nod of thanks.
"You – uh – don't need any help to get changed do you?" she asked hesitantly.
"No, I think I can manage," said Chief. He eyed her hesitancy and couldn't help but grin. "Terry didn't warn you, did she?"
"No," admitted Chris. "She just asked me if I could take care of the chicks and you. She just said you had gotten hurt. She wasn't specific about anything." She couldn't help a giggle of embarrassment.
Chief grinned openly. "In the morning, if you put the stuff close by, I can try to change the dressing myself," he offered.
Chris shook her head. "If Terry can do it, I can do it," she said firmly. "If you don't mind, I can change it."
Chief nodded. "I guess I don't mind."
The girl nodded, a little unsure about what to talk about now. She decided a retreat was the best idea. "Okay, well, I'm going to bed if you don't need anything. I'll leave my door open. If you need help during the night, just yell."
"I'm fine," assured Chief, thinking he was beginning to sound like the Lieutenant with that line.
"Good night, then," said Chris, backing to the door. She went out, pulling the door only half closed behind her.
GGGGG
The next morning, Chris arose and dressed before going to light a fire in the upstairs common room fireplace to warm it up. She figured at some point Chief was going to want to get out of that bedroom and it took a long time to heat up the cavernous common room. Next she went downstairs and checked on the chicks, stoking the stove before returning upstairs. Cautiously, she peeked into Chief's room. He lifted his head up to see her.
"Did I wake you up?" asked Chris, walking up to the bed.
"No," denied Chief. "I usually get up early. The Warden and I try to get a run in before breakfast."
"I don't think you'll be doing that today," smiled Chris.
"Don't look like it," said Chief.
"What would you like for breakfast?" the girl asked.
Fry bread and frijoles refritos immediately popped into Chief's mind. He wasn't sure where that thought had come from and wasn't about to ask the girl. He wondered if she even knew how to make it. Besides, he had never seen pinto beans in England. Instead, he shrugged his eyebrows. "Anything you feel like making is fine," he said. "You don't have to go any trouble for me."
That's a big help, thought Chris. "Okay, I'll see what Terry has in the kitchen." She looked down at him with a tilt to her head. "I have a fire going in the common room up here. Do you want to eat there or in here?"
"I'd like to get out of this bed," admitted Chief. "Uh, I don't have a robe or nothin'."
"Craig probably does," said Chris. "He won't mind."
Chris went into Craig's room and found a robe hanging on a hook in his armoire. Her eyes widened with an accompanying grin as she spotted the brandy bottle and glasses behind his shirts. She brought the robe back to Chief and laid it across the foot of his bed, pretending not to notice the book was back partway under the covers.
Going down to the kitchen, she dug around in the cupboards and refrigerator to see what was at hand. Bread, eggs, a bit of sugar, a tad of butter, a little flour in a tin, and a surprise tin of Golden Syrup. She grinned and set about making French toast from the loaf of bread in the bread box.
A little while later, Chris carried a tray with two plates of French toast and two cups of coffee up to the common room. As she was setting out the places at the table, Chief limped in and eased himself into one of the chairs, Garrison's robe tied firmly shut.
"I don't know when the last time was I had French toast," he remarked in appreciation.
"It's amazing what you can come up with when you're rationed," replied Chris.
They ate in silence for awhile, neither knowing what to say to the other.
"Terry says you used to work for the OSS," Chief broached.
"Not anymore," she replied. "I do some stuff sometimes for the SOE and the Maquis in France." She glanced up at him. "Nothing like you guys do."
"Well, like what kind of stuff?" asked Chief.
"Mostly dead letter drops," she said between bites. "Sometimes I try to get information from officers' desks, like that time when I met you in France."
"Stuff wasn't on a desk," said Chief. "Casino got it outta the safe. You break into safes?"
"No," admitted Chris. "Tinker does, but he was somewhere with Dirk."
Chief was curious about this young woman who was quieter and a bit more timid than her sister. "What would you have done if you couldn't get the papers?"
"I would have stayed there until I could get my hands on them or Tinker came to get me out."
"So you're not really a nurse," said Chief with a tiny grin.
"No," she replied. "I'm just the sister. Terry's the one who went into nursing. It was the best she could come up with to get off the ranch."
"So when this war is over, what are you gonna do to get offa the ranch?" Chief took a sip of coffee and watched her.
"Oh, I'll go back to the ranch. I don't really know or want anything else." She turned her eyes to the Indian. He was leaning slightly towards her and he seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying. It made her comfortable enough to open up to him. "I always thought I would marry and have children." She gave a little shrug. "There just aren't many young men around and what's there I wouldn't want to be married to. The Gallagher boys are too much like brothers to me. Besides, Joe's too old, Pres is older and after Cinder, and Jeff got killed in North Africa. And I wouldn't touch any of that nasty Cummings brood."
Chief grinned, "Cummings aren't good husband material?"
"Hardly," grinned Chris. "They were always trying to do something bad to Monty, just because he's Indian. Jim and Craig used to get in some really bad fights. Jim picked on Terry too, but she just belted him right back. Craig taught her how to fight."
"What about their father? Didn't he try to stop it?"
"Roy Cummings? He's worse than his kids. He came over one time and tried to get Ma in the kitchen. She picked up a butcher knife. I think she would have used it too. Monty came in with a shotgun and ran him off our land."
Chief stared at her. "Where was your father?"
"Washington, where he always is. Craig was at the Point."
"So what happened?" Chief wasn't even drinking his coffee now.
"Nothing. Nobody will take on the Cummings. It looked like war was coming, so Roy went back into the Army. He was a Major in World War I. It got rid of him, and the boys got called up so they left. It was real quiet after that." Chris grinned.
"So why do you stay here?" questioned Chief. "Why don't you go home?"
"Because I think I'm doing something useful here," she replied. "I never felt useful at home. I never felt useful in New York for that matter. I'm the little sister. Everybody tried to protect me. I wasn't allowed to go to Italy like Craig and Terry so I didn't get their education. And when we were taken out of New York, I was sent back to the ranch and Terry wasn't."
"You were underage," Chief reminded her.
"Yes, I know, but I don't think it would have mattered how old I was." She smiled at Chief. "I just want to do something good like Terry is before I go back to the ranch."
"What we do isn't safe," said Chief.
"I know," said Chris. "But it makes a difference in the lives of the people in Europe."
"They don't know what we do," objected Chief.
"No, but we know." She glanced at the harness that was on the young man's arm even in pajamas in the house that was safe. "Terry said you made hers. Could you make me one?"
Chief looked at her startled. "You know how to use a switchblade?"
Chris nodded. She bent a little sideways and straightened with a blade in her hand that she had retrieved from her boot. "Shiv taught me when he taught Terry. He didn't want me around them without knowing how to use them. I'm just not as good with it as she is."
"I guess I can make you one," said Chief, wondering what the Warden would think about that.
"Thank you," she smiled.
They finished their breakfast and Chris collected their dirty dishes. With a promise to Chief that she would come up and change the bandage on his hip after she was done, she took the dishes downstairs to wash them.
Chief watched her disappear out the door of the common room. He sat back in his chair, feeling the warmth in the room and contemplated the young woman. She seemed more fragile than her older sister, but he sensed because of what she said or maybe how she said it there was steel in her spine too. And she talked to him like a person, even confiding in him. Not once in the times he had shared with her now had she spoken or acted in any way that showed fear or condemnation. She treated him like a worthwhile person, something that he wasn't used to from the female population. His previous fiancée, also ironically Christine, had condemned him in the end. Somehow, he knew this Christine wouldn't do that.
Slowly, he levered himself up from the chair and, because he was alone, allowed the wince of pain in his hip to spasm across his face. It was getting stiff. He needed to move more and he wanted to get out of the house. He wasn't used to being cooped up in the mansion except for weather and even that rarely stopped him. Chief hobbled back to his bedroom. Before climbing back into the bed, he made sure the book Actor had given him to read was tucked safely under the pillows.
GGGGG
Crystal walked slowly up the stairs with a sense of trepidation about what she was about to do. She had seen Terry's face take on a calm, unfazed expression when she had changed dressings on her siblings when they were at the ranch. Terry had always been the family's answer to a medicine woman, having learned some of the Native American herbal lore from Monty and more for the Blackfoot tribe's medicine woman, Laughing Water. Chris had never had the need or opportunity to practice first aid and wound care at home. Oh, sure, she had doctored on Kelly, Dirk and Tinker, but one was her brother and the other two really were like brothers to her, and none had been wounded in what she considered to be a delicate location. This man upstairs was not a brother and the wound was not in a spot she was comfortable with.
With a smile on her face, she paused in the doorway to Chief's bedroom. He was partially propped up in bed waiting for her. Chris moved to the dresser top to get the supplies and arrange them on the chair beside the bed. Chief had moved away a bit and was wiggling under the covers. To the girl's relief, he carefully arranged the covers to only show the dressing and bit of outer thigh.
Chris hesitated. "Do you need anything first? Aspirin? Morphine? I know there's morphine in the fridge. I know how to give that."
"I know," said Chief with a humorous smile. "I remember you snowed the Warden."
"I didn't know any better," said Chris with embarrassment.
"I know," replied Chief, enjoying her rosy cheeks. "I don't need nothin'. Really."
Chris couldn't put it off any longer and bent to tentatively reach toward the dressing.
"Uh, you can sit on the bed. I made room," offered Chief.
Chris perched a hip gingerly on the edge of the bed. With careful fingernails, she loosened the ends of the tape pieces and slowly peeled them back, aware Chief was watching her and not moving. She found herself aware of the contrast between her pale hands and his nut brown skin. It was a nice contrast. She was also aware of the firm muscles down the short length of thigh that was visible.
Trying to restrict her mind to the task at hand, she carefully removed the old dressing. There were tiny specks of old blood on it, but nothing fresh or dirty. The wound was finely stitched with some bruising on the innermost side, but no redness or drainage. She frowned, trying to understand the dynamics of the wound that bruised on one side only.
"It came in from the side. It wasn't a front shot. Terry says it's what saved me from it hitting the bone head on," said Chief, understanding what she was looking at.
"And Terry's the one who took it out?" asked the girl as she sprinkled sulfa powder on the wound. "I didn't know she knew how to do that."
"She didn't," replied Chief. "Warden talked her through it." He paused, watching her fingers. "Is Terry really a medicine woman?"
"I guess as much as a white woman can be," said Chris. She laid some gauze pads on the wound and started ripping tape. "She was taught by the Blackfoot. They don't call theirs 'medicine woman.' I think it's a white man's term."
"Same with the Apache," said Chief. "My mother's father was the shaman of our tribe. He taught me the herbs and the ceremonies."
Chris looked up at him in surprise. "You're a medicine man?"
"Naw," denied Chief, embarrassed at her now thinking he was that important. "I just know some of it."
She looked back down and applied the tape to the bandage. He had never moved, but he seemed a little tense. She wondered if he was embarrassed too, but decided, being a man, probably not. Finished, Chris popped up off the bed with a smile and bent to gather her supplies and put them away. She watched Chief flip the covers where they belonged and wiggle under them to adjust his pajamas.
"Is there anything more I can do for you?" the girl asked.
"Naw, I'm good," he replied.
Chris headed for the door.
"Hey, Crystal?" called Chief.
"Yes, Rainey?" she stopped and turned back expectantly.
"Uh, thanks for takin' care of that," he nodded toward his hip. "And for breakfast. It was nice of you to make somethin' special."
"Oh, well, you're welcome," she said. "I'm going to see what I can find to make for supper. If you need anything just yell."
GGGGG
Chris spent the rest of the morning puttering around, cleaning the common room and the kitchen. She had found a frozen beef roast, small, but it could be stretched with vegetables and such into a nice stew. It was set on the table to thaw. Periodically, she went to check on Chief. He was always in about the same position, propped up in the bed. She saw no more of the book and wondered what he was doing to occupy himself, but didn't ask. It was early afternoon when she started cutting up vegetables for the stew.
Having had enough of the bed, and figuring it was probably warm enough out, Chief got up stiffly and got a pair of pants and a sweater out of the armoire. Sitting on the edge of the bed and bending his leg to get his ankle over his knee and putting his sock on pulled at the dressing and wound. He was determined to get out of the house, so he continued on. The pants were tight on the dressing also, but he ignored it. Dressed, he made his way to the door, down the hall and down the stairs one at a time.
When he got to the door to the kitchen, he paused to put a smile on his face and force himself into an erect posture. Trying not to limp too badly, he pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. The girl looked up from the table at him in surprise.
"What are you doing up and down here?" Chris asked.
"I need to get out of the house for awhile. Thought I'd go out and sit in the garden," replied Chief casually.
"Okay," said Chris dubiously. "Do you need help down the steps?"
"No," denied Chief. "I got down here all right."
He felt her eyes on him as he walked to the backdoor and let himself out. He wasn't too sure this was one of his better ideas, until the fresh air hit him. Now he was determined to make it down the steps and to the bench under the trees. He paused to take a deep breath of the fragrant air and started down the steps. He could have used one of Actor's fancy canes, but that would have been a sign of weakness and he wasn't about to show that in front of the girl. So, he made his way slowly and carefully to the bench and sank down on it in relief.
Chris watched out the window until he was seated before going back and putting the meat on the stove in seasoned water to start cooking. With another look out the window to make sure the man was all right, she went upstairs to his room. With him out of the bed, she thought she would straighten the sheets and fluff the pillows for him.
She pulled the covers down to the bottom of the bed and fanned and smoothed them so he could reach them easily when he got back in. Chris smoothed the sheets with her hands and picked up the top pillow, shaking it to plump it up again. She laid that one down and picked up the other one. The book was closed under it. Fluffing the pillow first, she set in aside and picked the book up, looking at the cover.
Treasure Island. That was a fun book. Her mother had read it to them as children. Chief was about a third of the way through it, judging by where the dust cover was keeping his place. She laid it on the bed and put the pillows back where they belonged.
Going back to the kitchen, she looked at her other charges in their warm box by the stove. The fuzzy little birds started chirping in earnest when she drew near.
"Oh, no," she laughed. "I am not your mother. And you better not all be roosters either."
She fixed a spam and cheese sandwich for herself and Chief. Taking the sandwiches and two glasses of milk, she carefully went out the back door and down the steps.
"You hungry?" she called to the Indian. "It's going to be awhile until supper."
"Sure," said Chief.
Chris sat down beside him on the bench, handing him a glass of milk. He set it on the bench next to him and took the sandwich she held out to him.
"Sorry, it's spam."
"'S okay," he said with a smile.
They sat in relative silence, eating and enjoying the warm sun and cool breeze.
"I straightened your bed out," mentioned Christine. "Are you enjoying Treasure Island? I thought it was a fun book, peg-legged pirates, parrots, and buried treasure."
Chief's initial unease at her finding the book was quickly eased by her words. "Actor picked it out. He thought I'd like it. He was right."
"Is Robinson Crusoe in the library?" asked Chris.
"Yeah. I read that one already. Liked that one too."
"How about the Three Musketeers?"
Chief shook his head. "Can't. It's in French."
Chris smiled. "I have it in English at home. The next time I come down from London, I can bring it for you if you'd like."
Chief smiled back at her. "I'd like that. Thanks."
Rising and taking the empty glasses and plate, Christine looked down at him. "I have things to do in the kitchen. Are you coming back in?"
"Not yet," said Chief. "It's nice out here."
"Okay," she smiled.
Chief watched her walk back to the house. He still could not get over how someone as sweet as her could treat him like a normal person. She knew what he did. She probably even knew what he had done, or supposedly had done, and she didn't seem to care, just taking him at face value.
An hour later, the hip was aching from the tightness of the pants pressing against the wound and sitting on the hard bench. Chief levered himself up, biting his lower lip at the sharp stab of pain. Slowly straightening to his six foot height, he took a couple steps forward. The hip buckled and he almost fell. The back door burst open and Chris leapt down the steps, running to meet him. She grabbed his arm.
"Rainey, are you all right? Can we get you into the house?" There was genuine worry in her voice.
"I'm okay," said Chief, not wanting to admit he wasn't.
"Craig's rubbing off on you," said Chris in disgust. "For heaven's sake, Rainey, let me help you. I'm not that fragile and you're not that well. Or are you too darn stubborn to accept help from a woman?"
He looked at her, seeing the stubbornness in her eyes and realizing he was going to need her help to get up the steps and into the house. "Okay," he conceded quietly.
Chris slipped under his arm, holding his hand in front of her shoulder and placing her other arm around his waist. Together they managed to hobble him up the steps and as far as the common room downstairs. She got him over to the big chair by the window and helped him ease down into it, putting his leg up on the ottoman.
"We'll give it a rest and try the stairs in a little bit," Chris said firmly.
"Yes, Ma'am." He grinned at her firmness. He grasped her hand lightly. She was something and he had a strong urge to kiss her.
Chris looked at him with a pretty little smile as if reading his mind. "I suppose one kiss can't hurt anything."
He pulled on her hand and she bent to lightly touch lips to his. The kiss lasted a little longer than planned before both pulled back. Chris eyed him contemplatively.
"I'll be in the kitchen." She turned and walked away thinking she had been wrong about that one little kiss. It made her want more.
Chris went into the kitchen and added the vegetables to the pot of meat. There would be more vegetables than meat, but that was the way of things nowadays. If it worked out right, there would be enough to feed the whole group tomorrow night if she added dumplings to the stew. Tonight she and Rainey would have bread with it.
By the time she returned to the common room, Chief was ready to try the stairs. Chris stood close by as he stood up. The hip hurt, but so far it wasn't trying to buckle on him.
"I can make it," he said with more confidence than he had.
"Yes, well I'm going with you," said Chris firmly.
He grinned at her. "Gettin' a little cocky there aren't you?"
"Somebody has to make you behave," she shot back with a returning grin.
"Oh and you think that's you?"
She linked her arm with his. "I'll just tell Terry you were overdoing it and wouldn't follow directions."
"That really scares me," scoffed the Indian with humor.
"I'll tell her you need to be in a hospital," said Chris smugly. "If you're in a hospital in London, I can come see you more."
"You could just stay here for a couple more days."
"Only if you want me to," Chris said turning shy again.
Chief shrugged, "Wouldn't bother me none if you did."
"Wouldn't bother you if I didn't?" she asked.
"I'd miss you," he replied boldly.
That brought a smile to her face. "Then I guess I'll stay awhile."
They made their way upstairs one step at a time.