In His Eyes(67)

Lee shivered as she rubbed his tiny chest and prayed that the treatments would work and that Westley would return soon. If only he could find a doctor, then Lee would be safe. Surely the doctor could give him something to ease these spasms.

Please, let him return quickly….

No sooner had Ella flung the prayer heavenward than she heard noises from downstairs. Basil and Sibby shared a concerned look, but Ella ignored them as she gathered Lee to her chest and scrambled toward the stairs.

She made the turn on the landing and came to a halt halfway down to the lower floor. Major Remington placed his hat on a hook and turned to look at her with a weary expression.

He was alone.

Ella craned her neck to look at the door behind him and took two more steps down. “Where is the army doctor you went to fetch?”

The major’s eyes softened and he reached out a hand to her. Ella remained rooted in place, dreading the words that would come next.

“Ella….”

“You couldn’t find one, could you?”

He scratched his head. “No. I found one.”

Ella hurried down the remaining steps and tried to skirt around him to open the door. He reached out and caught her arm. “He isn’t here.”

Ella had to lift her chin to meet his eyes, her short stature feeling all the more diminutive so near his height and breadth. “What do you mean?”

Westley lifted his hand, and when she remained frozen, he ran his thumb along the edge of her jaw. “I’m so sorry, Ella. He said he could not come. He had men to see to, and then his orders were to go to one of the hospitals in Memphis.”

Ella stepped away from his disconcerting touch and turned a watery gaze on Lee as she began to pace the foyer. “But, then, who will see to him?”

“I did explain the symptoms to the doctor, and he concurs with the shopkeeper’s assessment. It is most likely the whooping cough.”

“And?”

Despite her bristled tone, he continued to look at her with compassion. “And he said that we already have the treatments the doctor would give. There would be nothing more that he could do.”

Ella jerked to a halt by the parlor door and clutched the baby tighter. “But…I’m not sure the medicines will work!” Her voice hitched, and she hated the frustrated tears that gathered in her eyes.

His cane thumped over the floor and then his hand rested on her shoulder, and the comfort it brought ushered more tears to the surface. She should not enjoy his touch so. Nor should she wish to move closer to him or yearn to breathe in more of his scent—a mix of something like fresh rain and leather.

Curse her weakness. She needed to worry about Lee. The tears spilled over onto her cheeks, and despite her self-admonition to do otherwise, she did not resist when Westley pulled her closer, tucking the baby safely between them. Something in her lurched, and she foolishly wished that they were a family, and that he were Lee’s father and she his mother in truth.

Westley stroked her back, and she felt some of the tension drain from her. He would not touch her so if he did not care, would he?

“Easy, Ella. It will be all right. We have the medicine. Your baby will be fine.”

A sob bubbled in her throat. “I’m a terrible mother.”

Westley stepped back and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his deep brown eyes that brimmed with concern. “Do not say such a thing. Anyone can see that you love your son.”

Ella shook her head. “Oh, Westley. Love or not, I shouldn’t have tried to keep him. What do I know of properly caring for a child? I should have done what was best for him and not just what I selfishly wanted.”

His eyes sparked, and she wasn’t sure if the reaction came from her confession or the fact that she had let his given name slide from her lips.

His knuckles caressed her cheek and then he let his hand rest on her shoulder as he looked down at Lee. “Come now, you know that isn’t true.”

Ella sniffled. Such kind words, meant to soothe her guilt. But such things were hollow. “I was so foolish,” she continued as though he’d never spoken. “And look, now he is sick because I didn’t take him to the orphanage as his mother, his real mother, asked me to do.”

“Ella.” Her name snapped from his lips, as though to revive her senses. He put his finger beneath her chin. “Look at me.”

She reluctantly lifted her gaze, like she was a soldier under the influence of his commanding voice.

“The doctor said the whooping cough takes days to show signs. It starts as a sniffle and grows from there. Lee likely had it before I even arrived home.”

That still didn’t mean she hadn’t made matters worse. She always seemed to make things worse.

He dropped his hand. “Have you been giving him the treatments I brought for him?”

Ella nodded. “They have helped him sleep more, and they seem to ease the coughs a little but….”

As though to disprove her claim, Lee began another coughing spasm, his little body wracking with coughs so violently that Ella had to tilt him and pat his back to help him spit up the mucus.

Westley reached out to take him from Ella, and much to her surprise, she allowed it. Westley cradled the baby in one arm while Ella cleaned his face.

“This is what the doctor warned would happen,” Westley said as Ella tugged the soiled blanket off him, leaving him in just his gown. “He’s going to cough up the thick spittle until he clears it from his lungs. After that, if he doesn’t choke and he hasn’t grown too weak, he should begin to recover. With the treatments, and as my mother would insist, prayer, he should be just fine.”