"I know you will,"she said dully. "Good luck."
She turned back to stare downat Ian. At this moment it seemed impossible there could be good fortuneanywhere in the world. Poor Ian. She doubted if he would ever see Glenclaren orhis Margaret again. When she looked up a few minutes later, Li Sung and Kartaukwere gone.
She trudged to the edge of thebridge and looked down at the rails crossing the gorge, then beyond them to thewreckage of the train in the river. Her stomach twisted and the bile rose inher throat. She turned and walked back to the lean-to.
Keep him alive.
It seemed an impossible task,but she had to try to do as Ruel had commanded. She had to salvage somethingfrom this horror. She had to save Ian for Ruel. She lay down close to Ian onthe wet earth, cuddling close to him, trying to share her warmth.
"No!" They weretaking him away from her. Didn't they understand he would die if she didn'tkeep him warm? "No, you can't… "
"Shh, it's allright." Ruel's voice. "They're putting him on a stretcher to carryhim over the bridge."
She became conscious ofvoices, lanterns, movement all around her, and struggled to a sitting position."Is he still alive?"
"Barely." Ruel'stone was clipped as he rose to his feet and helped her to her feet. "Butwe have to get him out of this foul weather. Patrick has a wagon waiting on theother side of Sikor Gorge and we'll make better time once we reach there."His gaze searched her face. "You look as pale as Ian. Can you walk acrossthe bridge? There are some ties missing and it's not safe for me to carryyou."
"I can walk." Shestumbled after the four men carrying Ian, her gaze fixed desperately on thestretcher. "He has to live... my fault."
"Don't beridiculous," Ruel said harshly. "No one's to blame. At first Ithought Abdar must have done this, but it seems to me he would have appeared bynow, and why would he want to sabotage the train? I'm beginning to think it wasonly an accident." They reached the other side of the gorge, and he swungher up into his arms. "God, you're shaking yourself to pieces. It's nowonder you're not thinking clearly."
"My fault… "
She woke in her bedroom in thebungalow later to find Ruel in a chair beside her bed. He had changed to dryclothes but still looked terrible. Dark circles colored the flesh beneath hiseyes, and deep grooves scored either side of his lips.
"Ian?" shewhispered.
"Still with us. We wereafraid to move him any farther than the bungalow, so Patrick gave up his roomand brought a doctor from the fort. Dr. Kendrick's with him now. I suppose he'sdoing everything he can."
"Of course he is."
He said haltingly, "Iwant to thank you for helping my brother." He wonderingly repeated thewords. "My brother. Do you know I haven't called Ian that since we wereboys together? I thought if I could keep him at a distance… " He closedhis eyes. "I…love him, youknow."
"Yes, I could see itwhenever you were together."
"Could you? Then maybe hecould see it too. God knows I tried hard enough not to admit it. I didn't wantto love him. I didn't want to love anyone, but somehow… " His eyes opened."He won't wake up. The doctor says there's not much he can do. Ian mightnever wake up, just drift away… "
"I'm so sorry,Ruel," she said gently.
His eyes were suddenlyglittering fiercely. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Because thedoctor's wrong. I'm not going to let Ian die."
"But if there's nothingyou can do… "
"There's always somethingyou can do." He stood up and strode toward the door. "And I'm goingto do it."
The door slammed behind him.
Dear God, she loved him. Theknowledge that had exploded inside her when she had seen Ruel running down thatembankment was thorn-sharp. Wasn't love supposed to be sweet? She felt nosweetness, only a sense of the inevitable. No matter how she had tried toprevent it, her feelings had grown, deepened until she had been forced to faceand acknowledge them. She didn'twantto feel love for Ruel MacClaren,dammit. He was ruthless, mocking, and self-serving, and the most difficultindividual she had ever met.
Ruel is one of the heroesof the world.
Ian had said those words andRuel had proved him right tonight. If he was sometimes ruthless, he could alsobe selfless and courageous, giving with no thought for his own safety. As formockery, it had not been present in the man she had seen a few minutes ago; hehad been vulnerable and hurting. An aching sense of helplessness washed overher, and she realized she was feeling Ruel's pain as if it were her own. It wasso like him to deny his own helplessness and start moving, struggling to dosomething, anything.
And she had something to dotoo.
She lay there steelingherself, sick with dread. Then she threw aside the covers and swung her legs tothe floor. She flinched as she stood up, every muscle in her body throbbingwith soreness. She ignored the discomfort and moved across the room toward thewashstand.
Ten minutes later she shuffledpainfully out of the room and went in search of Patrick. She found him on theveranda, lounging in his favorite cushioned rattan chair, the usual glass ofwhiskey in his hand. God, she hoped he was still sober enough to be coherent.
