"That is good to hear, my lord. But until your physician gets here, I intend to do what I can."
"I'll help you remove the bandages," Luc said gently. "Father, why don't you and Chris get a breath of fresh air and something to eat? You've been here the past two days. Let Lee and me take over for a while."
The earl seemed unwilling to leave, but Christian Tanner gently took his father's arm and the two men left the building. Luc helped her unwrap the wound in Caleb's chest and the one in his thigh, then he stepped away.
Her heart squeezed. She was scarcely a physician. All she could really tell was that the injuries were severe. If Caleb were a horse, she would have at least some idea what to do, but he wasn't a horse, he was a man.
Then again, he had always been as stubborn as a mule.
"What do you think?" Luc asked.
Lee worried her bottom lip. "How long before the doctor arrives?"
"He was out of town when we sent for him. He is probably on his way by now, but there is no way to know for sure."
"We can't just sit here. Not when we don't know how long it might be until the physician gets here." She reached down, touched Caleb's pale face, and silently willed him to hang on. She turned to Luc, thinking of the mare several months back who had cut herself badly on a downed rock fence and trying to remember exactly what Jacob had done.
She gazed down at Caleb and took a steadying breath. "There are things I'm going to need. The herbs, you will find at the apothecary shop. The rest you will find in the nearest stable."
Luc flashed her a look of disbelief.
"Bring me pen and ink and I'll make you a list," she went on, as if she didn't see the doubt etched into his face.
Then very slowly he smiled. It was the first real smile she had seen since his arrival at the door of her father's town house. "I'll get the herbs. And there are stables right here with any number of horse supplies. You shall have the items you need as quickly as I can collect them."
True to his word, he returned not long after with milkweed and rue, boneset and dogwood, horse liniment, and fresh bandages. Lee took them gratefully and set to work, saying a silent prayer she could remember exactly what to do.
25
« ^ »
It was an endless night and most of the following day before the earl's physician finally arrived. In the meantime, Lee cleaned the wounds as best she could, then made salves and poultices, remedies old Arlie and Jacob Boswell had taught her, and applied them to Caleb's wounds. Still, during the night, his fever returned and he began to hallucinate.
Over and over he relived the terrible battle, and the pain in his voice made her ache for him. It was just before dawn that he whispered her name and when she heard it, her heart nearly shattered.
"I'm here, Caleb." She stroked his cheek with a hand that trembled and tears clogged her throat. "I'm right here, my love." But he said no more and by morning, she was exhausted.
She hadn't eaten since her arrival. Her stomach rebelled at the mere thought of food and her clothes were wrinkled and bloodstained and smelled of the same stench that hung like a shroud over the endless rows of hospital beds.
Lee was bathing Caleb's face, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair when she spotted the Earl of Selhurst striding toward them between the rows of beds. The man at his side, a thin man with a light-brown mustache, she presumed to be the physician the earl had summoned from London.
"Get out of my way, young woman." The doctor, a man Luc said was named Criffle, walked up to Caleb's bedside. "Let us see how much harm you have done."
Her hopeful smile faded. "I did what I could. I didn't believe it was in Caleb's best interest to wait."
The doctor harrumphed. Stripping away the dressings and poultices, he surveyed the wound in Caleb's chest, then turned his attention to the infection ravaging the gash in his thigh. He was frowning and Lee's heart began to thud with fear.
What if she had made matters worse? Dear God, what if she had done something that would kill him!
For the next half hour, Dr. Criffle worked over Caleb's still figure, cleaning and redressing the wounds. All the while, she stood fearfully between Lucas and Christian, praying Caleb would be all right.
Finally the doctor turned. "Young lady—I owe you an apology. You did an excellent job, considering what little you had to work with. I have no idea what exactly you used on Captain Tanner, but it seems to have helped the swelling in his chest and leg and some of the redness is beginning to fade. I do not believe putrefaction has set in as I had expected and whatever you used seems to have helped."
Relief made her weak and she felt Luc's hand close over her fingers in a grateful, reassuring squeeze.
"The problem now, I'm afraid, is the head injury he has sustained. For that there is nothing I can do. If he cares for you as his brother suggests, perhaps your presence here will make a difference."
She nodded, and prayed that it would.
It was a strange world Caleb lived in. At times the battle still raged inside his head. He remembered the cannon fire, remembered men falling beneath a barrage of gunfire and grapeshot, remembered the big French cavalry officer he had clashed with, the saber cut that had nearly unhorsed him. He remembered the searing pain of the musket ball that had slammed into his chest, the flames racing over the grass.
Most of the time, he lived in a world of darkness, an odd nothingness that engulfed him, made his body feel weightless, the days and hours seem to have no end.
But there were those few rare moments when he no longer drifted, when he thought he recognized voices. His father. His brothers. Lee.
It couldn't be, he told himself, but still he could hear her, gently calling his name. He wanted to answer, but he knew if he opened his eyes, she wouldn't be there. She was just an illusion and once he knew that for sure, then the pain of losing her would return and it was nearly as bad as the terrible ache in his chest.
"Caleb? Caleb, can you hear me?" She was there again, drifting through his mind. Peace settled over him and in his mind he smiled. He didn't try to awaken. Instead, he would far rather dream.
"I think we should take him home to Selhurst," the earl said.
"Dr. Criffle believes it's still too risky," Luc argued. "He says Caleb should remain here until he is more fully recovered."
But Lee wondered if the earl might not be right. Caleb's wounds were healing. At Selhurst, he would receive the care and attention he needed. He hadn't yet spoken, but each day he grew stronger. His body was recovering very well. It was his mind that held him hostage.
"Let's give him another few days," Luc argued, and she thought that it was because she was there and wouldn't be with him at Selhurst. "Perhaps by then he will be lucid."
As she watched him sleep, she wondered what Caleb was thinking, wondered if he heard her when she spoke to him during the night. Sometimes she believed he did, when his mouth twitched at the corners and it seemed as if at any moment he would smile.
She wanted to shake him then, to shout at him and demand he open his eyes. And so that afternoon, while the others had gone off for something to eat and she had returned to his bedside, while she sat there speaking his name again and again, talking to him about Grand Coeur and Noir, telling him racing stories, her frustration mounted. She reminded him of the day they had raced and he had pretended to lose, told him he owed her a rematch, and bet him another week of mucking out stalls, and to her complete frustration, his lips faintly curved.
"You heard me! I know you did! That's it, Caleb Tanner! You open your eyes this instant! I won't put up with your nonsense a moment more!"
To her surprise and utter amazement, he did exactly that. For an instant, they simply sat there staring at each other.