look at him.” Patrick, five years younger than Nathan, headed for the stairs.
“He may not see me.”
“You have to try. I don’t know what else to do.”
The plea in Patrick’s eyes scared him. Perhaps this was worse than he thought. A world without his grandfather seemed inconceivable, even if the old man wasn’t talking to him. “Fine. I will do what he will allow me to do.”
He followed Patrick to their grandfather’s bedchamber. The drapes were open and light poured into the room, but the air smelled of sickness. Nathan took one look at the shrunken figure in the large bed, and his worry intensified. There was not anything invincible about the man lying there, still, his eyes closed. Lines of age carved deep into his grandfather’s craggy features, almost all the color gone from his face.
Nathan inhaled a deep breath to ease the contraction about his chest. He moved to the bed and put his bag of medicines on the table next to it.
When he lifted his grandfather’s hand, the old man’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment he did not seem to recognize Nathan. Then a light dawned in his eyes. He slipped his fingers from Nathan’s grasp. The action only increased Nathan’s concern. In the past his grandfather would have yanked his hand away, with anger immediately invading his expression. The frown finally appeared, but slowly, as though Grandfather did not have the strength to be fully mad at him.
“Leave,” his grandfather whispered, a touch of fury behind the one weak-sounding word.
“I will leave when you can get up and make me.”
The old man tried to rise and fell back the few inches he had managed. “I will—soon.” Coughs racked his body.
Nathan laid his palm on his grandfather’s forehead. Heat burned into his hand. “As soon as I get you well, you can personally throw me off this land.”
The old man’s eyes closed, and he did not reply to the challenge. That worried him more than anything else. His grandfather never let anyone get the last word in, especially his disowned grandson. Nathan went to his bag and searched for the chamomile and feverfew. As he treated Grandfather, the powerlessness he had experienced in the war when caring for wounded soldiers mantled his shoulders as if hundreds of pounds pressed down on him.
His hands shook as memories assaulted him. The echoes of the soldiers’ screams rang in his mind like a death toll. He had tried to help many men—some lived, more died. He had become a physician to save lives and ease the suffering. He had failed with his father and Eliza and her child. The sense that he could not help them had been confirmed during the war.
Nathan assisted his grandfather to sit up so he could sip the brew he had mixed for him. Nathan’s determination hardened. He had already lost too many people he cared about. He would not lose his grandfather.
Five
A knock sounded at the cabin door. Rachel jumped and gasped. Maddy’s eyes widened, and she scanned the main room as if she were searching for a place to hide. As Rachel moved toward the front window to see if she could spy who was outside, another rap filled the cabin. Although the noise was not that loud, Faith started crying in the other room.
“I will get the baby.” Maddy scurried into the bedchamber.
Rachel peeked outside and glimpsed a tall, thin man, dressed in black pantaloons and tailcoat with a tan vest and boots. He reminded her of a gentleman she would have seen on the streets of London. Beneath his black top hat that partially shadowed his face, she saw a strong jawline and a cleft in this stranger’s chin. Both features reminded her of Nathan.
His brother ?
When the man turned away to leave, she caught a better look at his face—a kind one that resembled her benefactor. Is something wrong ? She hastened to the door and opened it when the man was halfway to his carriage.
“May I help you?” she asked in a breathless rush.
He swung around and faced her, removing his
“He may not see me.”
“You have to try. I don’t know what else to do.”
The plea in Patrick’s eyes scared him. Perhaps this was worse than he thought. A world without his grandfather seemed inconceivable, even if the old man wasn’t talking to him. “Fine. I will do what he will allow me to do.”
He followed Patrick to their grandfather’s bedchamber. The drapes were open and light poured into the room, but the air smelled of sickness. Nathan took one look at the shrunken figure in the large bed, and his worry intensified. There was not anything invincible about the man lying there, still, his eyes closed. Lines of age carved deep into his grandfather’s craggy features, almost all the color gone from his face.
Nathan inhaled a deep breath to ease the contraction about his chest. He moved to the bed and put his bag of medicines on the table next to it.
When he lifted his grandfather’s hand, the old man’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment he did not seem to recognize Nathan. Then a light dawned in his eyes. He slipped his fingers from Nathan’s grasp. The action only increased Nathan’s concern. In the past his grandfather would have yanked his hand away, with anger immediately invading his expression. The frown finally appeared, but slowly, as though Grandfather did not have the strength to be fully mad at him.
“Leave,” his grandfather whispered, a touch of fury behind the one weak-sounding word.
“I will leave when you can get up and make me.”
The old man tried to rise and fell back the few inches he had managed. “I will—soon.” Coughs racked his body.
Nathan laid his palm on his grandfather’s forehead. Heat burned into his hand. “As soon as I get you well, you can personally throw me off this land.”
The old man’s eyes closed, and he did not reply to the challenge. That worried him more than anything else. His grandfather never let anyone get the last word in, especially his disowned grandson. Nathan went to his bag and searched for the chamomile and feverfew. As he treated Grandfather, the powerlessness he had experienced in the war when caring for wounded soldiers mantled his shoulders as if hundreds of pounds pressed down on him.
His hands shook as memories assaulted him. The echoes of the soldiers’ screams rang in his mind like a death toll. He had tried to help many men—some lived, more died. He had become a physician to save lives and ease the suffering. He had failed with his father and Eliza and her child. The sense that he could not help them had been confirmed during the war.
Nathan assisted his grandfather to sit up so he could sip the brew he had mixed for him. Nathan’s determination hardened. He had already lost too many people he cared about. He would not lose his grandfather.
Five
A knock sounded at the cabin door. Rachel jumped and gasped. Maddy’s eyes widened, and she scanned the main room as if she were searching for a place to hide. As Rachel moved toward the front window to see if she could spy who was outside, another rap filled the cabin. Although the noise was not that loud, Faith started crying in the other room.
“I will get the baby.” Maddy scurried into the bedchamber.
Rachel peeked outside and glimpsed a tall, thin man, dressed in black pantaloons and tailcoat with a tan vest and boots. He reminded her of a gentleman she would have seen on the streets of London. Beneath his black top hat that partially shadowed his face, she saw a strong jawline and a cleft in this stranger’s chin. Both features reminded her of Nathan.
His brother ?
When the man turned away to leave, she caught a better look at his face—a kind one that resembled her benefactor. Is something wrong ? She hastened to the door and opened it when the man was halfway to his carriage.
“May I help you?” she asked in a breathless rush.
He swung around and faced her, removing his
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