Coming Home for Christmas by Carla Kelly

pair.”
    He knew he had not translated that well by the sudden mystification in her eyes. “Two horses pulling one cart, my dear,” he said, trying again in Spanish. “Bacon and eggs,” he said in English. “Tea and toast.”
    Laura just shook her head, but she was no longer tugging against his hand. Thomas released his grip and she stood there. He knew she could bolt to the other room and refuse to leave it, or she could hear him out. Hewas counting more on her curiosity than her affection, of which he had no gauge.
    â€œListen to what I say, señora, ” he said, as formal as she. “Let me make you indispensable to San Diego.”

Chapter Seven
    L aura might have been uneasy, but she didn’t falter when Thomas took her by the hand and led her into the wardroom. Her grip got a little tighter when she saw the wounded soldier, but she didn’t hang back.
    Thomas glanced at Ralph, who still slept, and whispered in Laura’s ear, “When Ralph wakes up, I want you to help him eat.”
    She nodded, her eyes still on the gored soldier. Gently she freed herself from Thomas’s grasp and, to his relief, sat down in the canvas sling chair. She glanced at Thomas for permission; when he nodded, she smoothed the young man’s hair. “There now,” she murmured.
    Thomas knelt by the bed and raised the light blanket that covered Juan’s wound, moving the bedclothes to protect the man’s modesty. “He was gored in the thigh. I cleaned the wound and put in a drain, which needs to be irrigated every few hours. Let me show you how.”
    He taught her as he had taught any number of pharmacist’s mates through the years: one eye on the wound, and the other eye on the student. If she fainted, she wouldn’t be the first, but she didn’t. Her normally full lips came together in a tight line and she swallowed several times, but she watched with that intense gaze already familiar to him. When he finished his demonstration, he handed the tube to her and directed her hand as she inserted the drain into the ugly wound.
    Juan regained consciousness as she finished her task. Thomas moved closer. “Well, soldier, you’ve survived the night. I have high hopes.”
    The man’s eyes were on Laura. “This is my wife, Laura Ortiz Wilkie,” Thomas said. “She will be helping me care for you.”
    The man’s eyes narrowed for a moment and Laura looked anxiously at Thomas. Hoping she would not mind, he put his hand on her shoulder. He thought she leaned towards him a little, but he could have been mistaken.
    â€œSeñora Wilkie,” Juan said, and this time he managed a slight smile. “I would like something to eat.”
    Thomas felt his wife’s slender shoulders raise and lower in a silent sigh of relief. “The mush?” she asked over her shoulder.
    â€œThat would be fine. Pablo brought enough for these men, too. He always brings enough. Add a little of the cream to it, then feed your patient.”
    â€œAye, aye,” she said, which made him laugh. It touched him a little, too. She continued in Spanish. “Actually, I am Laura Ortiz de Wilkie, to be proper.” She smiled, and looked more her usual self. “I intend to correct your Spanish, if needed.”
    Thomas bowed. “I thought you might,” he said inwhat he knew was poor Spanish. This elicited an overly dramatic eye roll from his new bride, which suggested she might be regaining her equilibrium.
    He watched her hurry from the room, intent on her errand. Thomas glanced at Ralph, who was awake now. “When she finishes feeding the soldier, it will be your turn,” he told the carpenter.
    Ralph put his hands behind his head. “You plan to work yourself out of a job?” he teased.
    â€œI do, indeed,” Thomas replied. “I want everyone in the presidio to need Laura Wilkie as much as they need me.”
    And maybe the