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  Yet, she really had no choice. First, though, the doctor must be called. Backing from the room, she went to the staircase and called for Jason. He appeared in moments, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up at all angles, looking so much like his father, it took her breath.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, peering down at her.

  “I need you to get dressed and go for the doctor, Jason. Your father is sick, I’m afraid. He seems to be running a fever and I’m not certain what to do.”

  The boy’s face turned pale, his freckles standing out like so many specks of paint. “I’ll hurry, Miss Alicia,” he said, moving back into his room. Within a few seconds he was on his way down the stairs, buttoning his shirt and tucking it into his trousers. “I’ll run real fast,” he told her, and as he got to the front door, he turned and asked a question that sent chills down her spine.

  “Is he gonna die? Like my mom?”

  Alicia stiffened her spine and cast the boy a severe look, intent on making light of his fears, lest he panic. “Of course not, Jason. He’s just caught a chill. He’ll be fine in a day or so.”

  He slipped out the door and was gone. The doctor lived in the center of town and, with any luck, Jason should be back with him inside half an hour. In the meantime she needed to be busy trying to get Jake’s fever under control.

  The basin of cool water was simple enough to carry to the bedside. She dipped a towel in the water, then wrung it out and placed it on his head. She placed a second towel on his chest. Jake’s undershirt opened up with pearl buttons all the way down the front and Alicia had no qualms about opening it wide to apply the cool wet cloth to his chest.

  She lifted the towel from his forehead and felt the heat it had collected. A quick rinsing and wringing out made it ready for another application, and by the time Doc Hayes had arrived, she had managed a system that kept her changing towels at a regular pace.

  “What seems to be wrong, Mrs. McPherson?” the doctor asked. He approached the bed, bent over Jake and gently raised one of his eyelids to take a look. “He’s got quite a fever, hasn’t he?”

  Since he didn’t seem to expect a reply, Alicia didn’t bother offering one, but kept on with the task she’d set for herself. The doctor opened his bag and took his stethoscope from its depths and positioned it on Jake’s chest to listen to his heart.

  “His heart’s beating like a trip-hammer,” he said quietly. “We need to get that fever under control.” He rolled Jake to his side and pulled the shirt from his back. “Wonder what in the world brought it on.” He looked up at Alicia. “I surely hope you’re not excessively bashful, ma’am. We’re going to have to strip him down for this.”

  “That’s fine,” Alicia said quietly.

  “Lend a hand here,” the doctor said, stripping the sheet back and bending to remove the drawers that were buttoned at Jake’s waist. He moved them quickly down the muscular thighs and then took up a towel and placed it in a strategic spot to protect the unconscious man’s modesty.

  Careful to keep her gaze from Jake’s legs, Alicia picked up the drawers and placed them with the pile of clothing Jake had removed last evening. It seemed an intrusion to gape at his scars, when he couldn’t deny her the sight of his wounded legs. “What can I do?” she asked, anxious to help.

  Doc Hayes rummaged in his bag and drew forth a bottle. “Make him some tea with this. Six drops in a cup of hot water and add some sugar. It doesn’t taste like anything you’d want to guzzle down, but he won’t care at this stage. We’ll give it to him in sips with a spoon.”

  Alicia hurried to the kitchen, where Jason sat at the table, trying valiantly to eat a bowl of oatmeal. “Is he gonna be all right?” he asked, clearly worried. He was a child, Alicia reminded herself. Only a boy. And so she knelt beside him and put her arms around the narrow shoulders and drew him against her.

  “Of course he’s going to be all right,” she said, wishing she could cross her fingers to take away the lie. She didn’t know that Jake would be all right. In fact, right now he didn’t look anything like the man she’d fought with just two days since.

  “I have to make some tea for your father,” she told Jason. “Would you clear up the kitchen as best you can while I help the doctor?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jason said obediently, the most docile she’d seen him in the months since school let out.

  The tea was ready in moments, the big kettle holding hot water at the ready, the six drops measured carefully. Carrying the cup back into the bedroom, she stirred the sugar in and prepared to dose him.

  “Try to get a few drops down him,” the doctor said. “Sit down right there beside him and talk to him. See if you can persuade him to open his mouth.”

  “Jake?” She leaned over him, her hand against his forehead, then bent to whisper in his ear. “Jake? Can you hear me? I need you to take some of this tea. Open your mouth for me, will you?”

  His eyes opened, shiny with fever, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints as he looked toward the sunlight pouring in the window. “Rena?” he asked, his voice hoarse as he spoke the name.

  “Yes, Jake. Just open your mouth and take some of this tea.”

  Alicia felt the doctor’s gaze touch her as she coaxed the sick man to respond, knew his eyes held pity for the hurt she must feel. That Jake should call Rena’s name was enough to make her howl with anguish.

  The teaspoon trembled in her hand and half the tea dribbled down his chin. “Open your mouth,” she repeated, attempting to pour a scant teaspoonful at a time between his lips. She feared him choking on the liquid, yet he seemed to swallow automatically.

  “We need to keep that up,” the doctor said. “I’ll work at the towels if you’ll keep up with the tea.”

  “Whatever it takes,” she told him, concentrating on Jake. His big body radiated heat, and it seemed the towels were having little effect on him.

  “Let’s try some rubbing alcohol,” the doctor murmured. “Dilute it half-and-half with water, ma’am, and we’ll douse him good with it.”

  Alicia rose and did as she was bidden, then settled back down to bathe Jake with the alcohol mix. The moisture lay against his skin and evaporated quickly. Then his eyes opened, and he looked up at her, his expression dazed, his brow furrowed.

  “Alicia? What’s wrong?” he asked hoarsely. He tossed his head from one side to the other. “I’m hot. Can you open the window?”

  “You have a fever, Jake. Just lie still and let me bathe you.”

  His mouth twitched and he laughed, a rusty sound that held not a shred of genuine humor. “I didn’t think to get you in my bedroom this way.”

  “Pardon?” The word slid from her lips automatically as she bent closer. Fortunately the doctor was busy digging in his bag and missed the byplay, but it mattered little, for Alicia felt a blush creep over her cheeks at Jake’s words.

  His eyes closed again and he groaned as a chill gripped him and his body shuddered. “Cold,” he whispered, his arms crossing over his chest as if he tried to preserve body heat.

  “Doc?” Alicia raised her voice and the doctor looked in her direction. “He’s taken a chill,” she said.

  “Not surprising. When a man runs so high a fever, it sometimes goes in the other direction, kind of a reaction to the strain on his body.” He looked toward the wardrobe. “Any quilts in there?”

  Alicia rose from the bed. “I’ll get one.” She opened the wooden door and reached for a thickly quilted coverlet, opening it and spreading it over Jake’s body. He was trembling in earnest now, and she felt the urge to hold him against her in order to lend him her own heat.

  For almost an hour, they fought the shivers, tried to stem the trembling with a second quilt and a hot water bottle Alicia found in the airing cupboard upstairs. They rolled Jake onto his side, then placed the warmth against his back and held it there with a pillow, doing their best to offset the effect of chills.

  “I think he’s taken with a fever of some sort,” Doc Hayes said. “Pr
obably something he picked up in the war. Sometimes these things hibernate and then show up years later. If that’s what it is, it shouldn’t last more than a day or two.” He sorted through his bag and brought forth another small bottle.

  “Once he comes to, you’ll need to dose him with this, Mrs. McPherson. Just the same way you made the tea. Six drops or so in a cup of hot water. It’ll help with the fever. A high temperature is more dangerous to him than the chills.” He picked up his bag and approached the bed again.

  “Just do the best you can. I’ll stop by this afternoon when I’ve returned from seeing a couple of sick folks outside of town. I think you can handle it all right.”

  The thought of being left with the sick man was frightening. But, unwilling to admit her fears, Alicia nodded agreeably and followed the doctor to the bedroom door.

  “I can find my way out,” he said, and shot her a penetrating glance. “You seem like a capable woman, ma’am. But if you want me to, I’ll send a message out to Cord and let him know you’re needing help.”

  She shook her head. “I think we’ll be fine. If Jake doesn’t perk up by evening, I’ll think about letting Cord know.”

  Doc Hayes nodded and walked quickly toward the front of the house. Jason came from the kitchen and watched the man leave, then looked to Alicia, his eyes shiny with tears he refused to shed.

  “Will my pa be all right?” he asked. “Can I go look at him?”

  “Yes, to both questions,” Alicia said briskly. “You keep an eye on him while I fix myself a piece of bread. I’ll need something in my stomach to keep me going. Just sit beside him and call me if he stirs.”

  Jason nodded and Alicia went on into the kitchen. She’d purposely kept her gaze averted from Jake’s legs, but the sight of scarred stumps had touched her peripheral vision and she swallowed hard as she thought of the pain he must have endured while his wounds healed. It was no wonder the man was grouchy sometimes, bitter most of the time and a recluse without a desire to associate with his fellow man.

  One leg was indeed longer than the other, his right knee still intact, and she closed her eyes as she recognized the cruel results of war. He had a right to be ornery, surely must be filled with anger at the limitations he lived under. She’d been able to overlook his injuries so long as she did not actually see the tortured limbs. Now they loomed before her, making her aware of the pride that had kept her from viewing the damage.

  She might never be allowed admittance to his bed, although his remark had startled her into wondering just what his thoughts had been on the matter. I didn’t think to get you in my bedroom this way.

  Well, like it or not, she was situated there now. At least for the next day or so. Long enough, anyway, to get him past the sudden illness that had struck him during the night. Maybe Cord would know if Jake had been prone to a recurring fever. It might be worthwhile to send someone out to the ranch to let him know about the situation.

  She took her cup of coffee with her, carrying a plate with a slice of bread on it, and returned to the bedroom. Jason sat still beside his father, only turning his head to regard her beseechingly as she approached the bed.

  “He’s going to be fine,” she whispered, hoping to comfort the boy. But his eyes grew shiny once again, and he rose hurriedly and went to the window, as if he would not allow her to be an audience to his tears. “I’m sure of it, Jason,” she said more firmly. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I think you know that. Besides, the doctor wouldn’t have left if he weren’t sure that your father was going to be all right.”

  Those words seemed to reach him, for he turned to face her. “I suspect you’re right,” he said. “I think I’ll just stay here, though, if it’s all right with you.” At her nod, he settled in a chair near the window and watched as she adjusted the quilts over Jake.

  He’d ceased trembling now and had tossed the quilt aside, though he shifted restlessly beneath the sheets. “Hot…” he muttered beneath his breath.

  Alicia went to the basin and dampened the towels again, placing one on his forehead, the second on his chest. She spoke soothingly, calming words that seemed to settle him. His hand reached for her, groping against her dress, restless fingers tugging at her. Setting aside the cup she held, she lifted his hand and cradled it between her palms.

  “I’m here, Jake,” she said quietly. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Hot.” He repeated the word, moving restlessly against the sheet. The bowl of rubbing alcohol and water was nearby and Alicia began smoothing the cooling liquid over his skin, leaving it to evaporate and dry.

  She lost track of time, knowing only that Jason came and went, bringing her more coffee, carrying in a cup of hot water for her to use in making the tea required. She spent long minutes coaxing Jake to swallow, watching carefully to gauge his reaction to the medicine. It helped, she decided, soothing him, taking the edge off his fever.

  When the doctor returned late in the afternoon, she was still beside Jake and waited anxiously as he was examined. “I think he’s doing well,” Doc Hayes said finally. “He’ll no doubt be restless tonight. Fever always seems to rise around midnight. Never could figure out why it’s thataway, but I know it’s true.”

  He gathered his things, closed his bag and readied for his departure. “I’ll drop by in the morning, ma’am,” he said. “If you need me through the night, send the boy.”

  Jason elected to sleep on the couch in the parlor, as if he would not rest being farther from his father. Alicia prepared for the long night, putting on her nightgown and wrapper, then settling into a rocking chair she brought from the parlor, in order to gain some small amount of comfort during the dark hours.

  She dozed off and on, rousing when Jake complained of discomfort, bathing him and then covering him when he became chilled. The night was long and she rested little, her eyes closing when it seemed she could no longer hold them open.

  Late morning found Cord at the back door, and he came to Jake’s room without delay. “What’s going on?” he asked gruffly, his gaze falling on the man who did not respond to his voice. “Doc Hayes went past early on and let me know Jake was down with the fever again.”

  “He’s had this before?” Alicia asked, feeling relief that Cord recognized an ongoing condition.

  “Something he brought home with him years back,” Cord said. “This happens once in a great while, but it lasts for a couple of days usually. Makes him miserable while it keeps a grip on him. But if you’ll just keep him cool when the fever hits and warm when he takes a chill, he should get over it without any trouble.”

  He looked at Alicia, his gaze measuring. “I want you to go up to bed. I’ll stay with him while you sleep. I’m afraid you’ll be up all night again tonight, so you’d better rest while you can.”

  She didn’t argue with him, but gratefully trudged up the stairs and sought her bed, only rising late in the afternoon when Rachel came to her door. “Alicia? Are you all right?” she asked. “Cord is about ready to go home, but I can stay if you need me to.”

  Alicia sat up, then scooted to the edge of the bed, her toes seeking out the carpet slippers she’d left on the rug earlier. “No. You both go on home. I’m awake now, and I’ll be fine through the night.” She yawned widely and smiled.

  “I didn’t think I’d sleep so long.” She rose and picked up her wrapper, donning it quickly, then reaching for her brush. “Is Jake still the same?” she asked, gathering her hair together in her palm in readiness to braiding it.

  “Just about,” Rachel said. “I’ve seen this before, and it’s frightening, but he usually comes out of it in a day or two. It just takes a lot out of whoever has to tend him. Cord is wiping him down again right now. The fever returned a while ago.”

  “I’m coming,” Alicia said, braiding her hair with haste and preparing to return to the sickroom. “Can you see to it that Jason gets something to eat?”

  “I’m going to try persuading him to go home with me,” Rachel said quietly. “He’s wo
rried about Jake, but you don’t need the distraction of him being here, and he’ll do better if he’s somewhere else with something to occupy his mind.”

  Alicia was grateful for the suggestion. The boy had fears enough without watching his father in the throes of illness. Perhaps Cord could be the deciding factor.

  She went downstairs and headed directly for Jake’s room. Cord was bent over the bed, drawing the cloth over Jake’s body, the scent of alcohol in the air. He looked up as Alicia neared.

  “I think it’s working,” he said, standing erect and rubbing at his back. “I hate to run off and leave you, but I’ve got a horse down with colic, Alicia, and I need to be back at the ranch. Will you be all right till morning with him? Did you get a good sleep?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, then sat down beside her patient. Jake’s eyes opened and his hand reached for hers.

  “Alicia.” His voice sounded rusty as he spoke her name and she was grateful he’d managed to recognize her. Had he called for Rena, she’d have been mortified. It was bad enough that the doctor had been privy to that bit of delirium, let alone having Cord know that Alicia was definitely in second place in Jake’s thoughts.

  By late evening the house was in darkness, only a candle on the bedside table lighting the sickroom. Jason had been persuaded to go home with Cord and Rachel, and Alicia was fortified with a cold meal of cheese and bread. She’d managed to get three cups of tea down Jake’s throat and sensed that he was feeling better.

  He slept for several hours and she leaned back in the rocking chair, closing her eyes and relaxing. Then, with a start, she was awakened by his voice, muttering and then rising as he called out with harsh tones. The words were unintelligible, but the terror in his eyes as they opened wide spoke of some remembered horror in his past.

  She moved quickly to sit beside him and he reached for her, his hands gripping her tightly, her arms almost numb from the hold he maintained on them. “Don’t let them—” he said harshly. “Don’t let them do it!”