She crossed to the bed and reached for him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
In a flash, his hand shot out and closed around her wrist, his grip tight. “What do you think you are doing in here?” he growled.
“You were having a nightmare,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “I thought it best to wake you before your shouting woke the entire household.”
His grip didn’t ease at once, but she saw the confusion in his eyes as he slowly surfaced from the dream. At last, his fingers loosened. “Oh,” he muttered, as if disoriented.
In the quiet that followed, she noticed the ragged rhythm of his breathing and the way his chest heaved beneath his linen nightshirt.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“No,” he answered, the word clipped.
She glanced down. He was still holding her hand. “Who is John?” she asked carefully.
At once, Dominic stiffened. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”
His curt dismissal stung more than she wished to admit. “Can I get you something?” she offered. “Perhaps a warm glass of milk?”
“I don’t need milk,” he snapped, his voice edged in frustration.
“Then what do you need?” she asked, not out of obligation, but because she truly wanted to know.
He sat up in bed, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “Nothing you can give me,” he muttered.
Dorothea nodded, swallowing the ache in her throat. “I see,” she whispered, though it wasn’t the truth at all. She turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” Dominic said suddenly, his voice quieter. “I should be thanking you for waking me.”
“No thanks are necessary,” she replied, pausing at the doorway.
He studied her. “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head. “No. I was already awake.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
She gave him a tired smile. “Sometimes my thoughts are too loud to ignore.”
He let out a soft breath. “I understand that... more than I’d like.”
She hesitated. “Well, I’ll let you return to bed.”
But as she reached for the door, his voice stopped her. “John was the one who saved me.”
Turning back, she asked, “Pardon?”
Dominic’s face was shadowed by memory. “John Cooper. He was in my unit. A good man. Better than most.” He swallowed. “He’s the reason I’m still alive.”
“I’m afraid I never met him.”
“I’m not surprised. He didn’t take well to attention or praise. But when it mattered most, he was there.” His voice grew rough. “I was broken, bleeding... certain I would die. And John found me. Carried me across the battlefield, even as bullets tore through the air.”
“What happened to him?”
Dominic’s eyes closed, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “He died the next day in battle. A rocket exploded and he died instantly. Alone.”
She stepped closer, instinctively reaching out. “You were wounded. You couldn’t have helped him.”
