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“I stand corrected.”
Giving him another withering glare, she grabbed hold of the bed’s wooden side panel and began working herself to her knees. She made a bit of progress, but her weakened state conspired against her efforts. Refusing to surrender and breathing harshly, she slowly inched herself to a standing position, careful not to get her feet fouled by the swath of blanket, and promptly keeled face forward onto the mattress.
Chuckling softly, he picked her up from behind and placed her gently into the cradle of his strong arms. He smiled softly. “It’s called stubbornness.”
Rolling her eyes, she allowed herself to be carried from the room.
Rhine came from a long line of determined women, and the little lady presently in his washroom could have been one of them. While he stood waiting in the hallway a short distance away from the closed door to give her the privacy she needed, he had nothing but admiration for MissEddy Carmichael. He wondered again what she’d be like at full strength. Those withering looks she kept shooting him had probably brought more than one man to his knees, but he was finding them amusing.
The door opened and there she stood, upright but panting from the exertion. She appeared to be wobbly on her pins and on the verge of toppling, so he went to her and picked her up. She didn’t protest but he could tell by her tight face that she wasn’t enjoying being carried as much as he seemed to be enjoying offering the assistance.
He set her gently back in the center of his bed. “Would you like more water?”
She nodded.
He poured again from the pitcher.
When she’d had her fill she handed the glass back with a shaking hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And thank you and your friend for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome for that, too.”
“I had a carpetbag with me. Did you find it?”
“Yes.”
“Can you bring it to me.” No matter her condition, she wasn’t going to go without underwear.
“Yes, I will. Now, lie back.”
Again a nod. He waited while she undid her cocoon. From the slow pace of her movements, she obviously had very little strength, but rather than offer to help and draw her ire, he let her handle it alone. Finally free of the blanket confines, she slowly spread it out, seemingly careful to keep her lovely legs hidden from his sight. Content, she snuggled in. If she had any lingering worries or misgivings about being in the room with him, she didn’t voice them. “Rest now,” he told her quietly. A blink of an eye later she was asleep. Shaking his head at her determination, he went back to his chair for some rest of his own.
The next time Eddy awakened she was alone. The drapes on the windows were drawn, giving her the sense that it was night and making her wonder how long she’d slept. Finding herself alone was a relief. Seeing her carpetbag on the nightstand was a relief as well. Her rescuer had been caring and attentive, but a woman like her had no business in the home of a White man, let alone his bedroom. So far, he’d lived up to his pledge of not harming her, but would it last? She would have to trust him at least for now. For her own peace of mind though, she needed somewhere else to recover, but her still weak state made that a problem. She knew no one in Virginia City. Was there a Colored community? If so, did he know someone who’d be willing to put her up until she got back on her feet? For a woman who’d always depended upon herself, being bedridden was maddening. That she had no idea how long it would last only made it worse. Struggling up, she retrieved the carpetbag and after puzzling over the torn blouse she found inside, she took out a clean pair of drawers. It seemed to take a lifetime to get them on but she managed. She didn’t have the strength to add a shift so she left it off.
Hearing the doorknob turn, she raised the blanket to her chin. Fontaine walked in.
“Good evening, MissCarmichael.”
As he approached the bed, she offered a hesitant nod. She wanted to ask about the blouse but was still leery.
“Feeling better?”
“Somewhat. What time is it?”
He pointed at the clock hanging on the wall. “Nine in the evening.”
She felt like a ninny for not having noticed the clock earlier. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Since about midnight.”
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
She’d slept away almost an entire day!
