****NOTE****: Weeeeell...I just found out (Wednesday night) that our family will be moving again within the next 7-30 days (because apparently having a definitive moving/report date would be too easy for the military, LOL). Semper Gumby, indeed. I have the rough draft for Chapter 18 completed, so hopefully I'll be able to put it out between the chaos of the upcoming weeks (can't promise anything, but I'm gonna try)!

To those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback (either in the form of commentary in the reviews or private messaging), thank you. Feedback of any kind (both positive and negative) is so, so helpful! You guys have been great not only at telling me what you like about the story, but also at pointing out my mistakes and things that don't make sense, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that you take the time to do so! I've been able to correct so many mistakes and change lots of plot and character details that I otherwise would have missed because of your feedback! Thanks a million!

A HUGE thanks to Royal Cobalt and Sydneyer for their excellent editing work on this chapter! You ladies are the best!

Chapter 17

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

-The Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel

I felt completely numb, as though every emotional response in me had been switched off as I ran to Will's side. I dropped to my knees next to him, mechanically searching for any sign of life. His chest rose faintly with rapid, shallow breaths, and when I placed my fingers against the side of his blood-splattered neck, I felt a weak, thready pulse. He looked frighteningly pale, and his skin felt cool and clammy to the touch. I quickly picked up a corner of the blanket and pressed it to the small hole where blood seeped from in his chest, just below his right shoulder. He didn't wake up or react otherwise when I applied pressure to the wound.

I knew I had to get help, and fast, but I didn't have my phone with me. Keeping one hand on the makeshift compress, I quickly reached into Will's front jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. Just as I was preparing to search his contacts for Richard's or Charles's number, the phone rang, and Richard's caller ID flashed across the screen. I quickly answered it. "Richard!"

"Lizzy, we heard gunshots, what happened? Where are you?" Wind static rushed through the phone speaker as if he was talking while running.

"Will's been shot," I heard myself say. Everything began to blur together as the reality of the situation settled upon me. Knowing that an emotional reaction wouldn't help anything at the moment, I closed my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "We're in the field at the top of the hill, to the west of the house. Do you know where it is?"

"We've just reached the four-wheelers. Charles and I will be there shortly. Just stay where you are,"he directed, before ending the call.

My stomach twisted when I glanced down at Will's pale face again. Taking care to keep pressure on the chest wound, I grabbed another section of the blanket and held it against the larger, messier wound in his right bicep, all the time fighting against the panic rising in my chest. I focused on listening for the sound of the four-wheeler engines, reassured by the fact that Will was still breathing, refusing to give in to the fear that was creeping ever closer as his pulse grew weaker, and his breathing became shallower by the moment. The five minutes that it took Charles and Richard to reach us seemed like an eternity, but I eventually heard the unmistakable growl of the engines.

Soon after the engines stopped, Richard knelt beside me. "Here, Lizzy, let's see." I moved my hands, and he carefully drew the blanket away from Will's arm and shoulder. He drew in a long breath and returned the compress to the wounds before he craned his neck to look over Will's shoulder, briefly examining his upper back and arm. He quickly glanced at me, his blank expression resembling Will's own when he was determined to hide his feelings. "It looks like the bullet in his chest passed through. I called the police. An air ambulance is on the way and the police and paramedics should be here soon."

"Will he be able to make it until the helicopter arrives?" I asked. My voice sounded hollow to my ears. "It'll probably take the paramedics and police a while to get here, won't it?"
Richard was silent.

"Where's Charles?" I asked.

He jerked his head back, motioning toward the field. "Tending to Wickham. Were you harmed?" he asked, his eyes softening as he looked closely at me for the first time since his arrival.

I shook my head. "No. Can I help?" When Richard shook his head, I said, "I'm going to go see if Charles needs anything."

He nodded and returned his attention to Will.

Feeling as though I were in some kind of horrible dream, I ran the short distance to where Charles crouched over George Wickham's body. "Is he…?" My voice trailed off, afraid to ask if I had killed him.

Charles looked up from where he was applying heavy pressure with his hands to the man's leg. Blood oozed between his fingers. "Not yet. The bullet is lodged in his thigh. His pulse is strong and he's breathing fine at the moment, but if we can't get this bleeding stopped, he will be. Thankfully you missed the femoral artery, or he'd have bled out before we arrived."

"I didn't mean to," I murmured, grinding my fist into my forehead. "He shot Will and then threatened me, and I had to stop him. I had to stop him," I repeated, rapidly shaking my head.

"Lizzy, look at me," Charles directed.

I slowly raised my head and met his eyes.

Maintaining eye contact, he continued in a calm voice, "Can you remove his belt? We need to make a tourniquet."

I nodded but hesitated briefly before leaning over Wickham's body to clumsily remove his belt with numb fingers, all the while half expecting him to wake up and grab me. I finally managed to pull the belt from his waist and quickly moved to the opposite side of his body, where Charles knelt.

Charles nodded to the top of the man's thigh, a few inches above where he still applied pressure to the wound. "Put it around his leg and pull it tight."

I nodded and quickly did as he asked.

"He must have hit his head when he fell," Charles mused. "I don't think he's lost enough blood to cause him to lose consciousness."

I grimaced. "I kicked him in the head shortly before I shot him."

Charles cleared his throat. "That would do it," he murmured. "I need something to prop his leg up with. We have to get it elevated. And something to use as a compress."

I rose and scanned the area. My eyes landed on Will's backpack, lying in the grass near the tree. I ran to retrieve it, glancing at Will as I did so. Richard still knelt over him, applying pressure to his wounds.

"Lizzy! Did you find anything I can use?" Charles called.

Forcing myself to turn away from Will, I shouldered the backpack and returned to Charles's side. I rummaged through the bag and pulled a folded-up fleece jacket from the bottom. "Here."

Charles looked up briefly as he took the jacket from me and then quickly pressed it to Wickham's leg. "I'll lift his leg. I need you to slide the pack underneath his knee."

Charles carefully lifted Wickham's leg and I slid the backpack beneath it.

Soon, the blood flow began to slow. Charles looked up, his hands still pressed against the wound. "I've got this if you want to go to Will."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

He nodded, and I rose to my feet and ran back over to Richard and Will. I knelt next to Will's uninjured left side, keeping out of Richard's way. I glanced at the blood-soaked blanket that he still held against Will's chest and arm. "Has the bleeding stopped?"

Richard turned his head toward me. "It's slowed some, but his pulse is getting weaker, and his breathing is becoming more irregular." He took a deep breath. "What happened, Lizzy?"

My vision blurred as I focused on the barely perceptible rise and fall of Will's chest. I shook my head slowly, mechanically. "We were just sitting here, talking. Will thought he heard something and then there was a gunshot. George Wickham walked up to us and threatened to-," I couldn't give voice to what had almost been the realization of my worst fear. "He threatened me, and then shot Will again." I swallowed thickly, my stomach churning. "I got the gun away from him and shot him when he came after me." I blinked rapidly and lifted my eyes to glance at Richard, who nodded and pressed his mouth into a hard line.

I could tell that he was worried, very worried, and that concerned me greatly. I picked up Will's cold, limp hand and held it in mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement at the edge of the woods. I turned my head sharply in that direction and saw several police officers and paramedics emerge from the tree line. "Thank God," I breathed.

I returned my eyes to Will's ashen face as the emergency personnel surrounded us.

"Excuse me, ma'am, you'll have to move," a man's voice called from behind me.

It took a moment for me to realize that he was speaking to me, so focused was I on Will. I reluctantly laid his hand down at his side, feeling like my heart was being ripped in half as I did so. I rose to my feet and took several steps backward into the tree line so that I would be out of the way.

Nothing felt real. I felt lightheaded and I couldn't even feel the ground beneath my feet. My eyes moved mechanically from one person to another, without quite comprehending what I was seeing. The group of paramedics that surrounded George Wickham stood, carrying his body between them on a backboard. I didn't watch as they disappeared into the forest.

I heard the helicopter blades cutting through the air before I saw it come to land in the middle of the field. I swept my hair, blown across my eyes by the wind generated by the helicopter blades, away from my face, and absently felt around in my pocket for a hair tie, but then remembered that Will had slipped it over his own wrist earlier.

Two men in uniforms rushed out of the open door of the helicopter toward Will and helped the paramedics who were already working to load him onto a backboard before rushing him into the aircraft. A cold chill traveled through my body as the door slid shut and the helicopter took off and disappeared over the hill. I wondered if I would ever see him alive again.

With Will out of sight, countless emotions threatened to overwhelm me as everything that I hadn't felt during the ordeal seemed to flood me, all at once, including fear. A hand grasped my shoulder and my heart leaped into my throat. I jumped and screamed.

Charles's face came into view as he stepped in front of me. "Hey, there," he soothed. "Lizzy, it's me."

I clapped a hand over my mouth.

Charles's eyes, full of wary concern, tightened at the corners. "The police said they will need a statement from you," he told me, jerking his head in the direction of the law enforcement officials who were, at the moment, speaking with Richard.

I nodded absently, my legs beginning to shake uncontrollably beneath me. I collapsed. Charles's arm caught me around the waist before I hit the ground. He held me upright, hugging me tightly to his chest, and said in a calm but firm voice, "Lizzy, look at me."

I raised my head and looked up into his warm eyes.

"That's right," he spoke very slowly. "Alright, breathe with me now. Take a deep breath in through your nose." Charles took a deep breath and I followed his example. "Good. And now out slowly through your mouth."

I exhaled slowly.

"Good. Now, again."

For the next several moments, Charles held me and just helped me breathe. My body felt rigid – like my muscles would tear apart if I dared to move.

When I had control of my breathing and had calmed a little, he directed, "Just relax. I've got you. We're going to sit down now, alright?"

I tried to do so, but my body just wouldn't respond. My legs, which had been unsteady at best minutes before, felt like steel pillars, refusing to bend or move.

"Just let your body go limp. I've got you and I won't let you fall. Relax your legs first. Pretend they're made of rubber. Imagine all the muscles, from your hips, down through your legs, and into your ankles and toes, releasing and turning to liquid."

My eyes held fast to his as if they were a lifeline. I did as he said and, starting with my toes, I imagined all my muscles relaxing, one by one. A distant part of my mind was surprised it worked.

"Good," he whispered as he lowered us carefully to the ground without breaking eye contact until we were seated cross-legged in the grass, facing each other.

My whole body began to shake, and I held Charles's gaze, afraid that if I looked away and saw the bloodstained blanket and grass, I'd fall apart even more.

He gently rubbed his hands over my arms. "It's over now," he soothed. "I'm here, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

I heard footsteps approach, and a pair of legs came into view behind his shoulder, startling me.

Charles turned his head and glared up at the new arrival. "This really isn't a good time."

I looked up at the man, a police officer, who had come to stand next to us.

"I am sorry, but we need a statement. Mr. Fitzwilliam is giving his account to one of the other officers. We'll need one from you, too, sir."

"Okay," I whispered shakily.

The man sat down beside me and smiled tightly. "Whenever you're ready, ma'am."

I nodded robotically and recounted the details of the encounter, leaving nothing out.

When we had finished, Charles helped me up and led me toward the four-wheelers, being careful to take a route through the trees so that I wouldn't see the blood, I assumed; a consideration that I greatly appreciated. When we reached the vehicle, he handed me a helmet. "Lizzy, are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," I lied, trying to hold myself together.

He laid a hand on my shoulder and I looked up. "Richard needs to stay to finish up with the police. He's going to come back to the house shortly and take Georgiana to the hospital. Jane and I will take you after you've had a chance to shower and change, alright?"

I nodded and climbed on the back of the four-wheeler, holding tightly to Charles as we drove over the trail through the woods.

oooOOOooo

Jane and Georgiana met us at the front door. Georgiana's face twisted into a mask of horror when she saw me, and she burst into tears. After several moments, she shook her head. "What's happened? Where is Will? Is he-" Her words broke off sharply as she covered her mouth with her hand. Charles stepped forward and took Georgiana aside to speak with her.

Jane put an arm around my shoulder and walked with me up to my room. She guided me into the bathroom and asked if I wanted her to stay with me.

I gave a tired nod, not meeting her eyes. "Please."

She took a seat on the floor while I quickly undressed and stepped into the cavernous shower. I looked down as the water ran over my body, and gasped. The water draining away across the shower floor was red. Blood red. The sight startled me so much that I nearly screamed before I remembered Jane's presence in the room. Instead of crying out, I bit my lip so hard I tasted my own blood.

I quickly glanced down at my body. Blood stained my legs, arms, and hands, as well as the cracks and creases of skin on my knuckles and palms, and underneath my fingernails. I grabbed a washcloth from the stack of towels on the windowsill and furiously scrubbed the red stains away as long-held-back tears ran down my cheeks, mingling with the water that pelted me from the showerhead above. My silent tears turned into sobs as I dropped to my knees on the tile floor.

"Lizzy," Jane called in a soft voice from outside the shower door. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," I choked. "I just need some time to get cleaned up."

Jane was silent for several moments, but she finally said, "I'll go pack your bag and mine, then, and I'll bring you some fresh clothes in about an hour, okay?"

"Thank you," I answered, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes as if doing so would blot out everything that had happened that day.

oooOOOooo

Two hours later, I was clean and dressed, and standing next to Jane at the front door, waiting for Charles, who had stayed with Georgiana until Richard returned, before going to the meadow to clean up the mess and then showering himself.

When he finally appeared, we stepped outside.

"How is Georgiana?"' I asked as we walked to his black sedan parked in the driveway.

"She was pretty shaken up and understandably so. I apologize for not being ready sooner, but I couldn't leave her alone and I didn't want either her or Richard to have to deal with going back to the meadow to collect Will's things." He stopped next to the car and held the rear passenger door open for me and gently closed it after I was seated.

We drove in silence and had just reached the outskirts of Manchester when Charles's phone rang.

"Hello," he answered. "Mhm. We're about twenty minutes away." He was silent for some time, apparently listening to whoever was speaking on the other end of the line. "Thanks," he finally said before ending the call.

I leaned forward in my seat.

"That was Richard," he explained over his shoulder before I could ask. "Will is out of surgery. He is stable, but still unconscious. He's lost a lot of blood, so they're going to give him several units. The bullet in his chest passed through and missed any arteries, but the one in his arm was a bit more complicated. They've cleaned what needed cleaning, repaired what needed repairing, and stitched what needed stitching. Richard gave me his room number. He's in the intensive care unit." Charles's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

Jane looked up from her phone with wide eyes.

I rested my elbow on the window ledge and chewed my knuckles as I pressed my toes into the floor as if doing so would help propel us along faster to reach Will.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, Charles parked the car and I stepped out, nervously smoothing the front of my blouse as I did so. It wasn't until I looked down that I realized I was wearing the same white lace blouse and light blue jeans that I'd worn the first day I met Will. I fervently hoped that it wasn't an omen that this day would be our last one together. The thought made me freeze, my chest constricting with horror.

"Lizzy," Jane whispered softly.

I shook my head to clear the macabre thought from my mind.

Jane wordlessly held out my duffel bag, her expression sympathetic. I slung the strap over my shoulder and began to walk through the parking lot toward the front doors of the hospital. We reached the intensive care unit and followed Charles to the door of Will's room.

Through the glass wall, I saw Richard glance up from where he sat next to Will's bedside. He rose and stepped into the hallway, leaning one shoulder against the door frame as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Will still hasn't regained consciousness. Hopefully, he will soon…the next several hours are going to be critical." He looked directly at me as he said, "They only allow two visitors at a time. Go in, Lizzy, if you'd like."

I nodded and took a deep breath before I slipped past Richard and stepped into the room. My eyes landed on Will's face as I approached the bed. Someone had cleaned the blood from him, but he still looked frighteningly pale. My eyes moved from Will to Georgiana, who sat in a chair next to the bed, her forehead resting on the safety rail. "Georgiana," I whispered, moving to her side and placing my hand on her shoulder.

Georgiana looked up at me, tear trails staining her cheeks. "Lizzy," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around my waist as she began to cry.

I returned her hug and held her tightly as she wept for her brother. The two of us remained there, staring down at the lifeless form of the man we both loved until a nurse shooed us out an hour later.

oooOOOooo

Later that evening, I sat with Jane and Charles in a private waiting room in the ICU. The room was small, but we were grateful for the sofa and the handful of chairs it offered. Richard and Georgiana were taking their turns at Will's side for the time being. I hugged my knees to my chest and stared blankly at the gray carpeting. Jane dozed in a chair next to Charles.

"How are you doing, Lizzy?" Charles whispered, so as not to wake Jane.

I glanced up. He looked unusually somber. "I'm okay. You?"

He gave me a tight smile and a nod. "Fine. Do you want some coffee? I was going to get a cup."

I nodded, and he stood to leave the room.

"Charles," I called out as he reached the door.

He looked over his shoulder at me.

"Back in the meadow," I began, "when I was freaking out or whatever that was." I paused to take a deep breath. "You've done that before, haven't you?" I finished in a whisper.

Charles turned and crossed the room to sit in the chair next to mine. The corners of his eyes tightened as he regarded me, appearing to search for the right thing to say. "Psychological shock," he nodded.

"Before I took over my family's real estate corporation, I worked as a paramedic." He shrugged. "It started out as a condition of my inheritance that I attend university and then work in the 'real world,' as my dad said, for a few years before I began working with the company, so I wouldn't take anything for granted. I ended up loving the work and couldn't imagine myself doing anything else. I had dreams of one day becoming a pediatrician, but my parents and elder sister, Louisa, who was going to take over the business in my stead so that I could pursue that dream, died in a car accident during the summer holiday just before I was set to begin my final year of medical school, and duty called."

I toyed with the small cross pendant at my throat. "You'd have been a good one," I whispered.

Charles pressed his mouth into a firm line and gave a nod. "I'm going to go get that coffee." With that, he rose and left the room.

An exhausted-looking Georgiana shuffled in shortly after Charles left. I stood when she entered and gave her a hug. "Hey there."

Georgiana sighed heavily. "Thank you."

I stepped back but kept my hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm just tired. If you'd like to go sit with Will, I'm going to try to get some sleep."

"One of the nurses dropped off a couple of pillows and blankets earlier. They're folded up there, on the sofa."

"Thank God," Georgiana murmured.

I gave her shoulder a final squeeze before I turned to leave the room.

oooOOOooo

Richard glanced up from where he sat, next to Will's bedside, when I entered the hospital room. "How's he doing?" I asked, taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed.

Richard shrugged. "He seems to be holding his own now. How are you holding up?"

"I'm great," my words fell flat as I watched the steady rise and fall of Will's chest. My throat and chest tightened, and tears stung my eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a deep breath.

"Lizzy," Richard began, "no one expects you to put on an act here."

I jerked my head up and looked at him.

He shook his head. "We're all here for you, too. Just know that."

"Thanks," I whispered.

Richard rose from his chair, stretching his arms out to his sides with a grimace as he did so. "I'm going to go for a bit of a walk. I've been sitting still for far too long. Do you want coffee or anything?"

"Charles actually went to get some for me. If you happen to meet him in the hallway, would you mind grabbing my cup from him?"

Richard nodded and left the room.

I turned my chair to face the head of Will's bed and picked up his hand. I was relieved to note that some warmth had returned to it. I pulled my feet up onto the chair and hugged my knees to my chest with my free arm while I lifted the hand that I still held and pressed his palm against my cheek.

Several minutes later, Richard returned to find me in the same position. He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Here's your coffee," he whispered as he came around the chair to face me.

I lifted my eyes from Will's face to Richard's. "How was your walk?" I asked, accepting the cup with a grateful smile.

"Refreshing," he nodded. "Have you had any rest at all?"

I lowered my eyes to the black plastic lid of the coffee cup. "I'm okay. I'd rather not sleep…I'm a bit worried about what dreams may come. I'm a loud dreamer sometimes, especially with nightmares." I glanced back up at Richard and saw understanding in his eyes.

"I know what you mean. If-" he stopped abruptly and sighed. "If you think you'll need a sleep aid, I can take you to the clinic. It can help with the dreams."

He would know, I supposed. I bit my lip and considered his offer briefly. "I think I'll be okay, but thanks."

Just, then, Will's finger twitched against my cheek. I thought it might have been my imagination, but then his hand twitched.

"His hand is moving!" I watched Will's face carefully. His eyelids fluttered but stayed closed. He began to move his head from side to side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Richard quickly leave the room and heard him call for a nurse. A flurry of footsteps entered the room then, and I was unceremoniously ushered away from Will's side by a woman in blue medical scrubs.

"Sorry, ma'am," the nurse apologized. "The doctors and nurses will be needing access to the bed and monitors. You'll have to wait outside."

I nodded and with one last look at Will, left the room. I couldn't see him through the doorway or the glass wall. Only his blanket-covered feet at the foot of the bed were visible, so surrounded was he by medical staff. I rested my forehead against the cool glass.

Richard stood with his arms crossed over his chest on the other side of the wall, inside the room, out of the way of the activity. He looked over his shoulder and motioned for me to join him.

I rounded the doorway and slipped past the crowd to stand beside Richard in the out-of-the-way corner of the room. "What's going on?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Haven't a clue."

I heard the low sound of Will's voice, but it wasn't loud enough for me to make out what he was saying. Still, relief flooded my heart just to hear it.

I looked up at Richard at the same moment he looked down at me. Smiling, he put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned against him, thankful for the support, both physical and emotional.

Eventually, a doctor approached us. "Are you Richard Fitzwilliam?"

Richard nodded. "I am."

"Excellent. I'm Doctor Carter," he reached out to shake Richard's free hand. "May I speak to you in the hall, please?"

"Of course," Richard replied. "Lizzy," he motioned for me to follow.

When we reached the hallway, the doctor began, "Will is stable and coherent. As you were told earlier, both bullets passed through without doing major damage; mainly just some torn muscles and ligaments, some of which we repaired and others that should heal well on their own. I don't see any symptoms now that would contradict that. He's lost a lot of blood and suffered hypovolemic shock as a result, hence the prolonged period of unconsciousness.

"Luckily, none of his organ functions seem to be impaired, which is lucky. Fifteen minutes more and he would have had a completely different outcome. If you'd like, you can speak with him for a bit, although he may tire easily. We'll keep him here, in ICU, through tomorrow morning, but if he's doing well enough, he'll be moved to HDU by tomorrow afternoon. He should be able to return home in a few days, barring any further complications."

"Thank you," Richard nodded.

"Let us know if there's anything else we can do," the doctor replied before he turned and walked down the corridor.

Richard squeezed my hand. "Are you ready to go back in?"

I glanced through the glass wall. All the medical staff, with the exception of a nurse who appeared to be taking Will's blood pressure, had left the room. I took a deep breath. "Okay."

Richard strode to Will's bedside, while I hung back near the doorway to allow the nurse room to work.

"Hello, Will," Richard said in a quiet voice.

Will's head turned toward his cousin. "Elizabeth," he closed his eyes tightly. "Is…is she?" He seemed unable to finish the sentence.

"Elizabeth is fine, Will. She's right here." Richard raised a hand and motioned me over to the bedside.

The nurse finished adjusting the blood pressure cuff on Will's arm and left the room. I moved to the place she had just vacated by his bedside. "Hey, I'm here," I smiled, willing the tears that had pooled in my eyes not to fall.

Will reached for me with his uninjured left hand, which rested on the side of the bed next to where I stood, and tightly closed his eyes as he brought my hand to his mouth to kiss the backs of my fingers. He opened his eyes and looked up at me. "Thank God," he whispered, releasing my hand to cradle my cheek in his palm.

I leaned into his touch and held his hand against the side of my face. I couldn't stop the tears that followed, even though I did everything in my power to try.

Will brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. "Did he hurt you?"

Richard chuckled from the opposite side of the bed.

Will abruptly turned his head to look at his cousin and winced. "What?"

Richard grinned. "You're asking the wrong question. You should be asking if she hurt him. Thanks to Elizabeth, Wickham received a good beating and a gunshot wound to the thigh. She's quite the ninja when pressed."

Will gave an incredulous laugh and then winced at the pain the movement must have caused. "You're joking."

"Wow, thanks for your vote of confidence, Will," I said in a sarcastic tone. The events of the day were still too fresh to warrant humor, but sarcasm I could do.

"No," Richard answered. "She saved your life."

"I don't know about that," I demurred. "Richard and Charles heard the shots and headed out on the four-wheelers for the field shortly afterward. They're the ones who called the police and helped me stop your bleeding."

Richard rubbed a hand over his tired-looking eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two alone for a bit. I'm going to go let Georgiana know you're awake."

When Richard had left the room, Will turned to me. "I thought I'd lost you."

I looked down to meet his eyes, which I was surprised to see held unshed tears. I shook my head. "Never."

"I almost did today."

I sat down in the chair next to his bedside, keeping his hand in mine. "No, Will, you didn't. Everything turned out just fine."

"This afternoon, when I told you what I wanted for my future, I meant what I said, Elizabeth. And after everything that happened today, I know that I don't want to spend another day without you by my side. There's something I need to speak to you about."

I noted his dilated pupils. "Will," I interrupted him with a smirk, "do you know how many pain meds they've got you looped up on?"

He frowned. "I'm being perfectly serious."

I laughed softly. "O-ho, no. I've been on that side of an IV drip before, remember? There'll be time enough to be 'perfectly serious' when you're not under the influence, okay?"

He gave me a disappointed look.

I raised an eyebrow. "That look isn't going to work with me, mister."

"How about this one?" he asked, shifting his features into a smoldering display that made my stomach do funny, fluttery things.

"Not a chance," I lied, raising his hand to my lips to kiss his fingers, interwoven with my own. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied.

I sat next to his bedside until he fell asleep. Eventually, Georgiana and Richard returned to the room, and I went back to the waiting room to check on Jane.