The Heavenly Surrender (11 page)

“Brevan,” she began. “I-I don’t think I can do this. It’s going to hurt you so.”

“Genieva…I need to get to restin’ up. The plantin’ won’t wait, and I’ve got to finish that field. Sew the vile thing shut so I can get to me bed!” he growled.

Genieva knew the wound pained him unmercifully. Thus, as tears flooded her cheeks, she pinched the large laceration together and began to stitch it. Brevan only flinched once—the first time she pricked his tender flesh with the needle. It was a horrible task to perform, and she wondered how physicians tolerated such things.

It was not a pretty sight she studied when she’d finished the stitching of Brevan’s flesh. She could only bring herself to initiate twelve large stitches—stitches that were too far apart—but it was all she could do. The bleeding had slowed, and she washed the area once more.

As she helped Brevan stand, she was immediately frightened at the pallid tinge and weariness of his face.

“Sit down, Brevan. I’ll do it,” she affirmed. He sat down on his bed, wincing as he did so. Genieva struggled with his boots but was able to remove them.

“Thank ya, Genieva,” he muttered. His eyes were already closing, worn with fatigue.

“You’ll sleep better without your socks and…and trousers, Brevan,” Genieva reminded him.

“Fine then, lass. Take them off as well. Strip me naked if ya must—just let me rest.” His voice was filled with frustration and fatigue.

Genieva removed his socks and settled for loosening the buttons of his trousers. She helped him to lie as comfortably as he could on his stomach. He was sleeping before she even left the room.

“What frightened the mules?” she asked herself aloud as she sat at the table in the kitchen with a glass of refreshing water after having sponged Brevan’s blood from nearly every surface in the room. She was sure she had heard a gunshot. It had been close too. But Brian and Travis never hunted close to the houses.

“What’s goin’ on, Brevan?” Brian shouted as he stormed into the house.

“Shhh!” Genieva shushed him. “He’s resting.” How relieved she was for dear Brian. He would know what to do—she was certain.

“Resting? His idiot mules just came tearin’ through me strawberry patch, Genieva! The plow they were draggin’ behind them destroyed half of it, it did! And he’s restin’?” Brian started for the hallway, but Genieva stood, stalling him.

“There’s been an accident, Brian. Brevan bent down to clear the path for the plow, and a gunshot frightened the team, and they bolted. They pulled the plow with them as they went, and it cut Brevan’s back so badly that I can hardly imagine a man living through such an injury! I was afraid to leave him here alone to go for help. I didn’t even think about the team being loose.”

“Well take me to him, Genieva! Is he well? Did you tend to the wound?” Brian asked, his anger turning to deep concern as they made their way to where Brevan lay.

“I did the best I could, Brian,” Genieva said, as she removed the light sheet she had placed over Brevan. Immediately the tears streamed down her cheeks once more at the sight of the blood-saturated cloth she had laid over the wound to protect it.

“St. Patrick’s snakes a slitherin’!” Brian exclaimed, astonished at the severity of the wound as he gazed down at it. “Is he breathin’ still, Genieva?”

“He’s sleeping. He seems to be…” she began.

“Such a wound, lass! Such a deep and painful wound.” Reaching down, Brian affectionately squeezed one of Brevan’s hands lying on his pillow near his head. “Ya watch him close, Genieva. Infection could kill him.”

“I-I cleaned it as good as I possibly could. I used the iodine…I…oh, Brian!” she cried, burying her face in her hands.

“Now, now, lass,” Brian soothed, gathering her into his arms. “He’s the strongest man I’ve ever seen in me life, he is. No doubt he’ll be up in the mornin’ and referrin’ to that horrible sight as his wee scratch.” As he smoothed her hair, Genieva let her tears soak his shirt at his shoulder. “Ya’re tired, ya are. I’ll send Brenna and Lita over to keep ya company, and the three of ya can take yar turn sittin’ up with him tonight. It’ll make ya feel better.”

Removing herself from his arms, Genieva dried her tears with her apron and nodded. “It will help me to have them here, Brian. Thank you. Oh, and I’m so sorry about your berry patch.”

Brian smiled with understanding and shook his head. “’Tis nothin’ to speak of, Genieva. Nothin’ at all.” He frowned then, inspecting once more the massive wound on his brother’s back. “I’ll send Brenna and Lita over right away, lass. Ya’re not to worry. I tell ya, he’s stronger than a bull, that one.”



Brenna and Lita gasped in perfect unison when Genieva pulled back the sheet and revealed to them Brevan’s terrible laceration.

“Genieva!” Brenna exclaimed in a whisper. “’Tis a foot long if it’s an inch!”

“Oh, no!” Lita disagreed. “A foot deep! Oh, Genieva! How did you manage it?”

“Brevan’s a very authoritative man, you know,” Genieva whispered her answer, motioning for the two women to leave the room with her.

As the three women walked quietly down the hallway, Lita took Genieva by the shoulders and turned her toward her own room. “Aquí, mí amiga,” she directed as she pointed to Genieva’s bed. “You need to rest. You look so tired and worried. Brenna and I will sit up with your husband.”

“Oh, no, I can’t!” Genieva argued.

“You must, Genieva,” Brenna insisted. “I know me brother, and he’ll be hard to handle tomorrow, he will. He’ll be steamin’ angry that the field won’t be gettin’ plowed, if the pain itself doesn’t make him a rabid animal.”

“But I-I can’t just…” Genieva stammered.

“To bed with ya now, Genieva,” Brenna ordered as she closed the door behind her.

With pangs of guilt and trepidation, Genieva did retire to her own bed—and she cried pitiful tears as she thought of how horrid it had all been. What would she do without Brevan if he were stricken ill and taken from her? It frightened her to realize that she already knew she would never recover from losing him. Never recover from losing the great stranger of a man she was so thoroughly in love with.



It was hours and hours later when Genieva woke. She was certain she had heard the deep intonation of Brevan’s voice. Quickly she threw back her blanket and walked down the hallway to his room. She stopped before his doorway, however, when she heard another voice—Lita’s.

“Brevan, mí amor,” the woman sobbed. “Perdóname. Forgive me. I should’ve…I should’ve…this is all my fault!” she cried softly.

“Ah, hush, Lita,” Brevan assured her. Genieva peeked carefully around the doorway. Brevan was still lying in his bed—on his stomach. Lita sat on the floor next to him holding one of his large hands against her cheek as she wept. Instantly, an overwhelming anxiety and jealousy washed over Genieva. Yet she stood still and hidden as she continued to eavesdrop.

“She won’t, Lita. I’ll see to it. I’ll make sure of that. Ya just worry about yarself, lass. Ya’ll be needin’ to be more careful now, and ya shouldn’t be losin’ sleep like this either. It’s not good for you
or…” As Genieva watched Lita lean over and kiss Brevan affectionately on the forehead, her temper flared, and she stepped into the room.

“I am tired,” Lita admitted as she rose. Reaching out, she took Genieva’s hand and squeezed it with reassurance. As Genieva looked into Lita’s beautiful brown eyes, her anger began to dissipate. Surely she had misunderstood the implications in the conversation she had overheard. Lita appeared so unruffled and sincere.

“Brenna is resting in the spare room. Would you mind if I take your bed?” Lita asked.

“Of course not, Lita,” Genieva assured her. She smiled at the woman, and when Lita had left, Genieva turned her attention to Brevan.

“Feeling better?” she asked shortly.

“Ya shouldn’t have let her stay up so late, Genieva,” Brevan barked at her.

“Brenna insisted that we take turns, Brevan. It wasn’t my idea,” she defended. “And anyway, you seemed rather smitten with her company.”

“She needs her rest, lass,” he continued to bark, lowering his voice.

“We all need our rest, Brevan,” she reminded him rather too curtly.

“’
Tis true enough. But Lita…” he paused, seeming uncertain about whether he should continue. “Lita must think of her baby now.”

Genieva sat down on the chair near his bed. She was so stunned—as if someone had simply hit her over the head with a board.

“You mean she’s…Lita is…” she mused.

“The word is
pregnant
, Genieva. ’Tis a proper word, ya know,” he snapped at her.

“Why hasn’t she told any of us? Why hasn’t Brian said anything? He’s the one that suggested she come over here!”

“Brian doesn’t know of it yet.”

“You mean to tell me…she’s confided this profoundly intimate secret to you, and not to her own husband?” Genieva’s heart began to pound—furious with anxiety again.

“I guessed at it. Brian, good and true man that he is, doesn’t see things on the end of his nose sometimes,” he groaned. It was obvious the wound was paining him once more, for he clenched his eyes tightly shut and held his breath for a moment.

“I’m tired, Genieva. Me back hurts…me head is poundin’, and me field is waitin’ to be planted. Just let me rest now. And it’s not necessary for ya to stay here with me,” he grumbled.

“Well, I can’t very well return to my bed to sleep, so I might as well…”

“Me own bed is big enough for the both of us, Genieva. Just stop yar endless chatter, and let me rest,” he moaned. He was hurting, and Genieva forgave him instantly for being so curt with her—and for suggesting such an inappropriate resting place for herself.

“I’ll leave you then. Don’t worry about your field, Brevan. It will still be here when you feel better.” But as she rose to leave, he caught hold of her hand. She turned to find him glaring up at her, an expression of warning blatant on his face.

“Brian was over early this mornin’, Genieva, and finished the plowin’. I’ll help ya plant the corn, I will. Then Brevan won’t be forcin’ himself to work before ’tis safe for him,” Brenna informed Genieva at the breakfast table. Lita had left early—before Genieva had awakened—but Brenna had waited and fixed a fine breakfast.

“Did you know that Lita is…?” Genieva stammered.

“That she has a wee bun in the oven?” Brenna finished joyously. “Oh, yes! She told me just this mornin’ on her way to tell Brian. I’ve no doubt he’ll be walkin’ on the air all day now. When did she tell you?”

Genieva looked up, startled when Brenna giggled merrily. “Oh, Brevan. He can read a person through and through, ya know. He guessed at it. He must’ve.”

“
Yes. Lita is beautiful. And as for your brother…” Genieva could not finish her thought—for a horrid idea had been forming in her mind since she’d overheard the conversation between Brevan and Lita—and now it was threatening to further pollute her thoughts. It just seemed too unnatural for Brevan to guess at Lita’s condition while Brian remained ignorant of it. Shaking her head, Genieva tried to dispel the unthinkable vision from her mind. She tried to dispel the name of Amy Wilburn echoing throughout it as well.