Rumors and Promises (25 page)

Sophie had managed to help Caira wash up and dress later in the morning. Early afternoon arrived. Her stomach rumbled. Returning aches and pains sent her back to the settee, when a knock sounded at the front door.

Who could it be? Ian or Maggie wouldn’t knock. Perhaps a package had come for one of them. She stood up, seeing stars. She gripped the arm of the settee and sat back down until the dizziness subsided.

“What dat?” Caira sucked her finger and looked up from the pile of blocks she was playing with.

Rap! Rap! Rap! The visitor grew more insistent. Sophie stood slowly and took her time moving toward the door. She moved the curtain away from the window. “James?”

Sophie pulled her borrowed robe tighter around her middle before she opened the door. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I brought you dinner. Are you all right? I was afraid something had happened to you.” His brow furrowed.

“I’m just kind of weak.”

“This should give you some strength. Maggie made chicken soup this morning and asked me to bring it to you.” James smiled.

“Thank you. Go around back, and I’ll let you into the kitchen.” He held quite a large pot and Sophie would have hated to drop it and waste it all because of her weakness.

She hurried through the house with her heart pounding. Her skin had begun hurting again. No doubt her fever spiked.

She tried to wait as Caira’s quick little footsteps padded behind.

Sophie reached the back door and opened it since his hands were full. James was looking for a place to put the steaming pot and left the door open behind him. She rushed to get a trivet, but changed her mind. “Just put it on the stove.” Sophie had turned too quickly to give directions and saw stars again. “James—help!”

Sophie heard James plunk the pan onto the cast iron surface. Then she felt him grip her by the arms.

“Easy now.” He helped her into a chair by the kitchen table.

Sophie closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, sensing that James knelt down in front of her. She surrendered her head to the support of James’ shoulder. “Steady now. Take as long as you need.”

Caira’s tiny frame barreled into James.

“Hi, Cooper!” Her little voice gave away her happiness of seeing a familiar face from the boardinghouse.

“Be careful, you don’t want to hurt Sophie, do you?”

Sophie opened her eyes. James put an arm around Caira. “How’s my little friend today?”

The stars began to clear from Sophie’s vision. She picked up her head off James’ shoulder in time to see Ian standing as though frozen in the doorway while a chill breeze swept in, matched only in intensity by Ian’s icy gaze.

CHAPTER 15

I
an closed his mouth as soon as he sensed it had fallen open. He blinked, not believing what he was seeing. Was he dreaming?

A pale Sophie sat by a kneeling James Cooper. In fact, he was almost sure that he’d seen her head resting on his shoulder. And James held the beloved little Caira. Her shining smile beamed up at him.

How had this happened? Ian hadn’t been gone yet two full days. Or perhaps Sophie and James had always been sweet on each other, and he had been too daft to see it. Was there even more she hid from him? Although, Ian noticed, James knelt rather precariously, supported Sophie’s elbows, and moved back. The young man’s eyebrows knit together.

“Reverend, Sophie is terribly weak. Could you help me take her back to the settee?” James pointed at the pot on the stove. “I was just dropping off some soup that Maggie made for Sophie and Caira.” He scratched his head.

Ian swept off his hat, leaving it on the table. “I’ll take her up to bed, where she belongs.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I just haven’t eaten much today,” Sophie whispered.

He felt her forehead. “You’re burning up.” Almost before he realized it, Ian had scooped her into his arms and pushed the kitchen door open with his elbow as he stepped through sideways, careful not to bump Sophie’s head.

“But, but … I’m not a child. Put me down.” Sophie pushed her hands against him until their gazes locked. The amber fire in her eyes abated to reveal fright.

No
, you’re
a beautiful woman who needs to trust your friends and let them care for you.
And she was a mother, who needed to recover so she could care for her child. But knowing how she’d been hurt, he could now guess what caused the wide-eyed frightened deer look that often possessed her. Her eyelids flitted downward. His sense of hurt made room for compassion.

“Please, take me to the parlor.” Shaking, Sophie turned away.

“’Cowmick, where you going?” Caira pulled on his pant leg.

Ian stopped and looked down. “Sophie’s sick, so I’m taking her … to the settee.” Realizing he would overstep proper boundaries by going upstairs, Ian strode to the parlor. He wished he could hold Caira, too, when he saw the crestfallen little face. She whimpered. He softened his tone. “We have to take good care of your … sister, don’t we?” How easy it would have been to reveal the secret he possessed and refer to her as Caira’s mother. He knew he needed to watch himself.

“Wan’ Soffie. Wan’ ’Cowmick,” Caira wailed, holding tighter to his pant leg and hiding her face in the scratchy woolen fabric.

“Now, now. Mr. Cooper will gladly watch you.”

“I suppose.” James stood in the kitchen doorway with hat in hand and shrugged.

For all the talent he claimed as a journalist, the boy could be clueless about the simplest things. Somebody needed to educate the young man about real life. “Well, come take her by the hand.”

“Of course, Reverend.” James smiled. “Come along, Caira, you can help me get some soup for your big sister.” He reached his hand out to take the little girl’s.

She looked up at James and then Ian. He could tell she was hesitant. Her lip quivered. “’Cowmick?”

“Go on, Caira.” Ian’s voice grew sterner. His heart squeezed a bit with grief as he thought about how he might have to get used to seeing Caira walk away with James.

More than ever aware that Sophie’s head rested against his shoulder, the scent of lavender wafted up from her soft, curly hair, tickling his cheek. Grasping the front of her robe, she crossed her forearms against her chest.

“I hope you don’t think I’d ever drop you.” Ian was immediately sorry for his attempt at humor, knowing Sophie had been overtaken by deep fear.

Concern for her well-being buoyed him up with strength as though he carried a mere hummingbird instead of a young woman. Having his arms under her, surrounding her petite frame felt right, protective, like she was meant to fit there. He clutched her harder as limpness overtook Sophie’s body. Had she blacked out as she had in the church when she thought she was alone with him? Or had sickness overtaken her?

Fear infused him with a fire of energy. He set her down, placing her head on a pillow as though she were a little bird. “Sophie.” Ian patted her hand. No response. He reached to pat her porcelain white cheek. “Sophie. Can you hear me? Wake up!”

She looked pale, even against the white pillowcase. What if she became sick … unto death? The thought pierced Ian’s heart, as if only the thought of her dying took a large chunk of his heart with it.

“Cooper! Look in the cabinet to the right of the stove for smelling salts!”

“Whatever you need, Reverend.” James’ whistling annoyed Ian.

“Hurry, would you please!” Ian smoothed the hair back from her forehead, which beaded with sweat. Perhaps she’d fainted.

James had found them and brought the small bottle to Ian. Caira sniffled, chewing her fingers, and clinging to the younger man’s hand.

Ian moved the smelling salts back and forth below Sophie’s nose until her eyelids fluttered open and she inhaled deeper.

With terror returning to her eyes, she grabbed his wrist as though to push him away.

“Nobody is going to hurt you.” Ian mustered the most soothing tone he could. “You need rest. Maggie will be home soon.”

Sophie nodded as recognition lit her face. Her forehead smoothed. Her lips relaxed in parting. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to get Doctor Moore.”

“But I can’t afford—”

“Nonsense. You’re a guest in my home. And we treat our guests like family. I’ll take care of it.” What had Maggie been thinking? Why hadn’t she called the doctor for her sooner?

James ambled into the parlor. “I’ve got a bowl of soup for our patient. Would you like to feed it to her?” James stepped into the room with a napkin over one arm and a steaming bowl of hot soup. The rich scent of thyme and onion in the chicken noodle soup filled the room. Caira traipsed behind like a chick behind a mother hen.

Ian took a deep breath. His stomach rumbled though eating had been farthest from his thoughts. Maggie’s soups tasted as delicious as they smelled. James offered him the bowl.

“Don’t let Caira get too close.” Ian felt a need to take control. “We don’t want her to get sick, as well. You go ahead and see if Sophie will eat some of this. I’m going to call Doctor Moore, but if I can’t get through, I’ll go get him myself, once Maggie returns.” He rubbed the side of his face, wanting to flee Sophie’s presence, the closeness overtaking him.

The back door slammed. “James? Where are you? Sophie?” Maggie called out. A few moments later her firm footsteps echoed in the kitchen.

Caira danced in the dining room between the parlor and the kitchen, waving a cracker around. “Cooper, ’Cowmick, Cooper, ’Cowmick.” The spirited toddler sang the two names over and over as though she were weighing which one sounded better.

“What are you doing running around with a cracker in here?” Maggie took it away, brushing the crumbs from Caira’s hand into her own. She looked from Ian to James. “And just what are you two doing here with Sophie?”

“I was bringing her lunch to help her eat.” James showed her the bowl.

Ian smoothed his hair back. “I’m afraid this is my fault. She was feeling faint, and I thought it best to bring her in here to rest.”

“She was perfectly fine with Caira. This is most improper. I sent James to do a simple errand and told him I would be coming home to help Sophie shortly.” Maggie snatched the bowl from James’ hand. “Off with you now. Get back to the boardinghouse. I left your lunch on the sideboard. You men may be on your own making sandwiches for supper tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.”

“Ian—”

“I’m on my way to see about Dr. Moore.” He put up his hand, wanting to halt his sister’s tirade.

“See that you do!” Maggie turned to Sophie. “Let me get some nourishment into you, my dear. I’m so sorry about those two. They’re supposed to behave like gentlemen.”

Ian made his way toward the back door, and James followed, looking as sheepish as a scolded puppy. Their shoulders bumped as they hurried through the doorway.