Linda Castle (22 page)

“Damn it, stop teasing me.” She turned her face away, but he gently grasped her chin and pulled it.

“I am not teasing. A man can see these things, Marisa. You desire me as much as I do you. Life is still worth living. There are a thousand ways we can love each other, darling.”

She blinked back tears. “How?”

He grinned. “I was hoping you would ask.” He wrapped the sheet around her body and scooped her up in his arms. “The exercise pool is empty this time of night. We will not be disturbed.”

“We are going back into the water?”

“Uh-huh, but this time not to work, my love.”

An hour later Marisa’s head was spinning from Brooks’s intoxicating kisses. He had told her that making love was as much a state of mind as it was physical.

She could not deny it.

Her blood simmered in her veins each time he touched her. He held her against him, half sitting, half lying on the stone steps, and she felt complete sexual fulfillment.

“You see, my love, we can touch each other, love each other in so many ways.”

“But it is not the same—for you,” she murmured between ragged breaths.

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t just as good, just as fulfilling.”

He captured her lips again. As the moon rolled overhead and cast silvery shadows through the wide windows, his love managed to breach the loss of feeling in her lower body.

T
he following day dawned bright and glorious. Brooks was happy to see bees buzzing from one tuft of clover to the next. The summer air was alive with a warm humidity and lazy energy.

He loaded into the buggy a thick blanket and a wicker basket full of ham, chicken and anything else he thought might tempt Marisa. When he had everything hidden from sight he walked into the common room.

Several patients were playing cards and one silverhaired lady was embroidering a pillow top. His heart contracted painfully when he saw that Marisa was just as he had left her, staring into the cold hearth as if the weight of the world lay on her delicate shoulders.

When they were busy with her regimen of therapy and exercise, she was like her old self, but the moment they stopped, she retreated to a place she would not share with him. There was a private place inside herself that she protected with silence and a thick icy wall.

He knew it was because they had seen no real improvement. One tiny muscle spasm that Dr. Levy had said could’ve been a reflex was not enough. Marisa would not let Brooks get any closer. Three weeks had flown by, and
though he hated to admit it, the specter of doubt was beginning to hover at the edges of his mind.

She turned her face to look up at him when he reached the side of her chair. “Are you sure you want to go for a buggy ride?” she asked.

There were smudges beneath her eyes and her cheeks were a little hollow. Even the pretty, pink-checked frock didn’t bring much color to her face.

“Fresh air is what you need. You are a wild girl from the Territory, never meant to be cooped up. A buggy ride will put roses in your cheeks.” Brooks tried to sound cheerful, but it wasn’t easy when he read so much sadness in her eyes.

She tried to smile, but the wan curving of her lips cut deep into his soul. He picked her up, savoring the delicious weight of her body in his arms. He took her outside and put her in the front seat of the buggy. The little cart horse pawed restively as Brooks made sure Marisa was secure.

“Comfortable?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She grabbed hold of the iron support that ran from the top of the buggy down to the frame.

“I will drive slowly, and I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

Marisa stared at him for a moment. “I know you will, Brooks. I know you would sacrifice your own life and happiness to take care of me.” She turned and stared straight ahead at the horse’s rump.

His chest tightened.

In her own, not too subtle way she was reminding him of their deal. That unless she could walk she would never marry him. He had to find a solution, and he had to find it quickly, for time was rapidly running out.

At first Marisa just sat unmoving in the buggy, but as they traveled along the gently rolling mountain road, she found herself noticing her surroundings. This country was so different from the Territory. Everywhere she looked there was something green, or a trickle of water. It was soothing and yet incredibly exhilarating. She found herself craning her neck to see around the next curve in the road or through an unexpected break in the thick canopy of trees overhead.

Wildflowers added splashes of color in the rolling green carpet. Forest birds chirped and bravely swooped in front of the buggy as they violated their privacy.

“It is beautiful up here,” Marisa murmured.

“The proper setting for you.” Brooks clicked his tongue. As the horse picked up speed, the wind blew through Marisa’s hair. She closed her eyes, held tighter to the iron rail and allowed her mind to take her far away. For one split second she actually thought she could feel the vibration of the wagon through the soles of her feet. But when she opened her eyes the sensation disappeared.

Fancy that—wishful thinking.

She would’ve given in to the feeling of helplessness, except Brooks had stopped the buggy in a place so wondrous she could only stare.

A waterfall plunged into a pond with so much power the water below the cascade churned with white foam. Slate gray rocks glistened, having been polished to a high sheen from the force of the water. Grass grew in thick abundance at the edge of the pond, dotted with white daisies and yellow buttercups.

“This looks like heaven.” She was transfixed by the strength and beauty of the waterfall.

“I have a surprise for you. If you don’t mind waiting for a few minutes.”

“I could watch this all day.”

Brooks wrapped the reins around the iron foot rail and jumped down. While Marisa was distracted with the water, he removed the blanket and basket. A huge willow was nearby and he chose a spot beneath its dripping branches to spread out the blanket and position their picnic.

He returned to the buggy and went to Marisa. “Are you ready for the rest of my surprise?”

“That depends.” Her voice was wary.

Marisa’s hands went instinctively to his shoulders when he grasped her waist. He held his position, not moving her from the seat but not removing his hands. He felt suspended in time while she gently but firmly kept her grip on his shoulders.

“I promise it is not a ring, like last time,” he said.

A flicker of embarrassment flashed across her face, and he knew that was what she had feared, what she had been dreading.

“I will not offer you a ring again unless the terms of our agreement are met. You can trust me to keep my word, Marisa.”

She smiled.

For the first time in days the action brought a light into her eyes. “You are teasing me again.”

“Me? Never.” He slipped one arm under her legs and lifted her out of the buggy. A bird trilled a happy song nearby and he heard Marisa sigh.

She smiled at him again. “Don’t bother to act innocent. I know what kind of thoughts go on in that head of yours.”

“I wonder if you really do.” A cloud crossed her eyes and he decided to change the subject, determined to recapture
the easy feeling that had been between them. “I got a letter from Ellen today,” he said.

“Really? How is she?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet. I thought we would read it together, after lunch.” He settled Marisa on the blanket. When her gaze fell upon the basket her eyes filled with unshed tears. She blinked rapidly, as if trying to drive them back to their source.

“What is it, Marisa?” He dropped to his knees beside her.

“I know what you are trying to do, but it will only make things harder.”

“How can you say that?”

“There are only three weeks left until the end of our bargain.” She said no more, knowing that he would understand what she meant.

“God is not going to let me down. Besides, it is a beautiful summer day and I am with the woman I love. I intend to enjoy every single minute.” He reached out and with the tip of his index finger captured a teardrop that had escaped. “Now, no more tears. Let’s open Ellen’s letter and hear the gossip of the city.”

She sniffed. “All right.”

He ripped open the envelope and unfolded two pages. Ellen’s precise hand covered both of them, front and back. “She is in a chatty mood, it appears.”

“Unless there is something private, would you read it to me?” Marisa leaned back against the willow tree. Her motionless legs were stretched out in front of her, the toes of her boots peeking out from under her skirt.

“I have no secrets from you, love.” He winked and held up the page. “Dear Cousin,” he read. “I hope this letter finds you and Marisa well. I am feeling more my old self. Cyril has been stopping by and taking me for
strolls in the park. I believe the daily visits are working miracles. Brooks, please tell Marisa that she must hurry and get well in order to fulfill her half of the bargain.”

He glanced up. “What does she mean?”

Marisa sighed and closed her eyes. “It was just a silly promise I made.”

“Oh.” He gazed at the letter and read more. “By now I am certain Marisa has taken back your ring—”

“Stop,” Marisa said. “Don’t read anymore—please.”

He folded the pages and stuffed them back inside the envelope. “Tell me about your promises. It appears you are the one with the secrets, darling.”

She studied him with smoky gray eyes. “Swear you won’t tease me?”

“I swear on my honor.” He held up his hand as if taking a solemn oath.

“When we first left the Territory the most important thing in the world to me was becoming a proper lady. I put such stock in fine manners and knowing which petticoat to wear…” Her voice trailed off.

“Go on.”

“Ellen and I made a bargain. She would teach me how to be a lady and I…”

“Yes?”

“I would teach her how to ride.” Her lids lifted and she stared at Brooks. “Just foolishness, on both our parts. I wanted to be a lady so badly.” Her voice was flat and dry, almost devoid of emotion.

He reached out and stroked her cheek with one fingertip. “It doesn’t matter if you are a lady, or if you can walk. None of that matters to me.”

She grasped the finger tracing a line around her jaw. “I know, but it matters to me.” She glanced at the churning water in the clear blue pond. “It matters that I can’t
walk. And it matters that I can’t dangle my feet in that water.”

“Who says you can’t?”

She frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Let me show you.” He moved to her feet and lifted the edge of her skirt. Nimble fingers unlaced one high-topped boot and tugged it off, then he reached up under her petticoat and found the top of her stocking. Slowly he rolled it down.

“You know what I miss the most?” she whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I miss you tickling the bottom of my feet.”

“Like this?” He deposited kisses across her instep and on each toe.

Her foot jerked.

They looked at each other, afraid to move, afraid to speak.

“Did you do that?” he finally asked.

“I’m not sure. I think I…I’m not sure.” Her heart beat a little faster.

Brooks shoved up her skirt and quickly removed the other boot and stocking. With his index finger he drew an invisible line on the sole of that foot.

“Could you feel that?”

“No. Nothing.” Disappointment flooded through her. Until that moment she had not realized how hopeful that tiny jerk had made her.

“Let’s try it again.” Brooks ran his finger down her other foot. Again there was a small amount of movement. He looked up at her.

A bright smile flashed across his face.

“Dr. Levy said I might experience some reflexive movement. It could be nothing.” Even while Marisa was cautioning him, the stubborn flame of hope had been ignited
in her own soul. She couldn’t let Brooks know it, though, not unless she was truly getting better. “Brooks, you can’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late. I think this calls for a celebration.” He stood up and gathered her into his arms. With sure strides he brought her to the edge of the pool. The crashing noise from the waterfall made conversation impossible, but when Marisa looked at his face, she knew.

He was happy.

Probably for the first time since her accident. He grinned at her while a cold spray of mist covered his dark hair and mustache. Droplets of water turned to jewels in the summer sun. She couldn’t help but laugh even though a tendril of fear still clung to her heart. It was crazy and irresponsible, but she allowed herself to think there was a slim hope for a future with Brooks as he gently placed her feet in the churning pool and sat down beside her.

Marisa dreamed of walking in knee-deep snow. Her feet and legs were so cold they were numb. She searched for shelter, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a place to get warm. Her feet and legs ached from the frigid temperature.

She was freezing…

Marisa woke with a start. The moon hung like a fat yellow pearl in the night sky. The curtains fluttered in front of the open window.

She touched her throat. Sweat had pooled in the hollow of her neck. Damp strands of hair clung to her face.

I’m not freezing, it’s hotter than blazes in here.

It was puzzling that she would dream of ice and snow when her room was warmer than the desert in August.

A frisson of pins and needles suddenly shot from her lower spine to her toes and back again. She levered herself
up and stared at her legs in doubt and wonder. They were contorting, cramping, the muscles twitching and pulling.

And with the strange reawakening of her limbs she had the sensation of being wrapped in ice.

“Oh dear Lord,” she whispered. She was determined not to marry Brooks until she could stand at his side. But would she ever be able to do that?

“Can you feel this, Marisa?” Dr. Levy prodded the sole of Marisa’s foot with a pin.

“Not really.”

Dr. Levy pulled the sheet down over Marisa’s bare toes and tucked it under the mattress. She stood up, and as usual, her brows were pinched together in thought.

“Describe the sensation to me again.”

“One leg feels like a million red ants are crawling over me. The other is sort of like having your foot go to sleep in church.”

“Hmm…”

“What does it mean? Am I getting better?”

“I’d like to give you assurances, Marisa, but I can’t. The sensations you are experiencing could mean the swelling in your spine was only temporary and feeling is returning to your limbs. Or…it could mean nothing. It is just too early to say. We need to observe this for at least another month.”

“That long?”

“At least. If you are recovering, it is important to keep exercising those muscles. Right now is the most critical time in your recovery. You are going to have to work twice as hard as before, but we simply can’t rush things.”

“I understand,” Marisa said. Now hope warred with her determination to spare Brooks. She had sent for Dr. Levy secretly, not wishing to give him false hope.

“Dr. Levy?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you to say anything about this to Brooks.”

Dark brows rose. “Why am I not surprised?” The doctor’s words were tinged with sarcasm. “Is there any part of your care that I am allowed to share with him?”

“Do you think I am wrong to try and protect him?” Marisa levered herself up in the bed and frowned at the doctor.