“I pray it is so,” Carolina whispered.
She was impressed by the whitewashed walls and newly mopped wood floors. The air seemed stale, but the building was warm, which was a great comfort after the frigid cold of the train. Although March was nearly upon them, the winter weather seemed to hang on with a fury all its own, and even now the skies were gray and heavy-laden with snow.
An older woman in a starched white apron and coarse gray wool dress appeared and began to question the approaching couple. Carolina found herself instantly impatient and spoke before Swann could manage to announce their need.
“I’m Mrs. James Baldwin. I believe my husband is a patient here.”
The woman nodded and pointed. “His bed is in the last ward on the right.”
“Thank you.” Carolina didn’t even wait to exchange a glance with Swann. All she could think of was seeing James again. She thought of the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, and the way he always set her nerves to right when his hand touched hers. Oh, James, she thought, picking up speed with unladylike strides, please be all right. Please be safe.
“Here we are,” Swann said, reaching out to push open the door.
Carolina hurried into the room and came to a halt at the sight of a redheaded woman kissing James’ forehead. She felt the blood drain from her face, even grew light-headed at the sight. Who was this woman and why was she being so familiar with James?
“I see you are faring very well,” Swann said, attempting to introduce their presence.
Carolina stood in complete silence as the woman straightened up and met her stare. She barely heard James’ words as he spoke. “Carolina! Mr. Swann! What a wonderful surprise.”
This caused Carolina to turn her attention back to James. His head was swathed in bandages, and his face was scratched and bruised. Her chest felt tight as she met his gaze and saw the joy in his eyes. Surely if anything were amiss, there would be some form of embarrassment or anxiety rather than happiness in his expression.
But still she remained fixed in her place beside Swann. In truth, she wasn’t sure what to do. The woman at James’ side was very attractive, although she wore a moderate amount of makeup, and Carolina was certain her hair was anything but natural in color.
Thomas Swann cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I gave Carolina the news of your accident. She insisted on coming immediately to be at your side.”
“I’m grateful that you brought her to me, Mr. Swann. We’ve been apart nearly a month, and I can’t tell you what a vision she is to behold.”
Carolina again turned to look at her husband. He spoke as though unaware of her discomfort. But surely he would have to know the startling effect of seeing another woman kiss her bedridden husband. Swann seemed to completely understand the situation and sought to put his friend at ease.
“If you two would like some time alone, I would be happy to escort your other visitor home.”
Carolina offered Swann a look of gratitude. Somehow she had to fight the feelings that were building inside her. Feelings of confusion, jealousy, and most disturbing—insecurity.
“That would be fine,” James said. “But first we must share introductions. This is Annabelle Bryce, world-renowned actress and good friend.”
Annabelle laughed. “I don’t know that the world-renowned actress is all that important, but I do value the friendship we share.” She moved forward to greet Carolina. “You must be James’ wife. I’ve heard so much about you that I would know you anywhere.”
“I’m afraid I’ve heard nothing about you,” Carolina replied, knowing her words poorly hid her dismay. Nevertheless, Annabelle’s smile remained fixed and sincere.
“I am Thomas Swann, Miss Bryce,” he introduced himself. “I am the president of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.” He gave her a slight bow, then moved forward to put himself between the two women. “Might I accompany you to your hotel or . . . ah . . . home?”
“I’m staying with my sister.” She put her gloved hand upon his arm. “Thank you.”
“Carolina, I will see to Miss Bryce and return later to accompany you to the hotel,” Swann said as he turned to go.
Carolina said nothing until the door had been drawn closed behind the exiting couple. She wanted to run to James and throw herself into his arms, but images of Annabelle Bryce caused her to remain standing. She lifted her head and caught James’ strange expression. It was as if he studied her for some reason. She quickly glanced away, noticing the rest of the ward for the first time. There were a half dozen beds in the room, but James’ was the only one occupied.
“Are you going to talk to me, or are you afraid I’m a ghost?”
She glanced back to find him giving her a lopsided grin. Taking a deep breath, she clutched her handbag tightly. “I was so afraid.” It was all she could manage to say. For the first time she saw further indication of his injuries as she eyed his right arm in a sling.
“I was too.” He extended his left arm and beckoned her to come to him.
“And when I heard you were in a hospital, I didn’t know what to think.”
“The boardinghouse where I usually stay was full, and this seemed more convenient than the hotel. But you can ease your fears, my dear. I am a bit battered, but I will survive.”
Carolina moved forward, desiring nothing other than to be in his arms, but she halted as if Annabelle herself stood between them. “She’s very beautiful, James. Why did you never speak of her?”
James surprised her by sitting up quickly. He grimaced with the pain the movement caused but refused to let it stop him as he reached out to take hold of her hand. “Because it seemed unimportant. Now, come here and kiss me like a proper wife.”
Carolina gasped as he pulled her down beside him. “James, this isn’t how a proper wife acts,” she protested.
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” he whispered, slipping his hand behind her head. “But you mustn’t fight me. I’m very injured, you know. Any struggle and I might strain something and lengthen my recuperation period.”
Carolina looked at him in surprise, but his grin reassured her, and if not that, then his kiss did the job in short order. He kissed her long and passionately, as though his hunger for her canceled out the pain of his injuries. Carolina forgot about Annabelle and the fears of whether James lay near death’s door. It took very little encouragement for her to return the kiss, and without realizing it, she sank onto the bed and melted against him.
“I’ve missed you more than words will ever express,” he whispered as he eased away slightly. “Your face was all I could see, even as the darkness claimed me. When I thought I might die, my real regret was being parted from you and the children without being able to tell you one more time how much I love you.”
“I feared I’d never see you alive,” she managed to say, choking back a sob.
“Now, now. You aren’t allowed to cry,” he said in a teasing tone. “You may only cry when a person is truly in jeopardy. I’m merely dented a bit, but hardly all that broken.”
Carolina straightened up and immediately noticed that she’d transferred smudges of dust and coal smoke onto James’ white nightshirt. “I must be a sight,” she said, trying to wipe away the dirt.
“You are,” he answered, his blue eyes dark with appreciation. “A most welcome sight.”
“I . . . ah . . .” she stammered to think of just the right words. Reaching up a hand to her stylish velvet bonnet, Carolina could feel strands of her carefully pinned coiffure coming down. “I didn’t have time to freshen up,” she said, trying to resecure the hair.
“I don’t care,” James said, reaching up to pull her hand back down. “I think you look wonderful.”
Carolina could only envision the exacting fashion of Miss Bryce. The actress, whether given to dying her hair or not, could boast that not a single strand had been out of place. Even the woman’s afternoon walking dress had been freshly pressed and in perfect order. Then, too, the image of Annabelle giving James a loving kiss on the forehead positively eroded her last pretenses at being strong. Without warning she began to weep, and soon her sobs were quite uncontrollable.
James eased her back to him and let her have her cry. She felt the tension of the last twenty-four hours overtake her. He might have died in that landslide instead of only sustaining injuries. She might be viewing his dead, mutilated body instead of feeling the warmth of his arms around her. Suddenly all the security of husband and home faded from her and the haunting reminders of their frail existence overwhelmed her reason.
“You mustn’t take on so,” James finally said, his left hand lovingly stroking her back. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see. I’ll be fit as a fiddle before you can even say jack-a-dandy.”
Carolina shook her head. She couldn’t explain her insecurities to him. She couldn’t tell him that Annabelle Bryce had been her undoing. That even when faced with James’ accident and the possibility of his death, she had remained strong. Why should it be that this stranger’s attentions toward her husband should be the one thing to undo her resolve?
“Carolina, listen to me,” James said, shifting with some difficulty so as to allow her to get nearer. “It was just an accident. Did they even tell you the details?”
Carolina shook her head and eased away from her husband in order to see his face. “I only know it was a landslide at Doe Gully.” She drew a ragged breath and attempted to dry her tears with her dusty handkerchief.
James took the cloth from her and reached up to wipe her face. “It was indeed a landslide. The big slide had taken place prior to our arrival. I was inspecting the site when another piece broke loose and tumbled down upon me. I have a concussion and nasty gash on my head, as well as a broken right arm. My ribs are sore, as is most of my body, but otherwise I am well.”
“Are you truly?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
James smiled and gently dabbed her cheeks. “I promise you, I am well on my way to recovery. In fact, Ben tells me that I shall be allowed a job at home in Baltimore, so see there, this thing has its good points, too.”
At this, Carolina remembered her selfish prayer to bring James home to her for a good long time. The thought that somehow her prayer might have caused James’ accident sent her into yet another fit of tears. “I’m . . . sorry,” she said, trying hard to control her sobs. “I know . . . I shouldn’t cry.”
“I’m sure your worries have been many, but”—he lifted her chin in order to force her to face him—“Annabelle isn’t one of them.”
Carolina couldn’t even attempt to hide her expression of surprise. How could he know what she was feeling? How did he understand that Annabelle’s poise and confidence were her undoing?
“I thought that might be a matter of grief to you,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Do you not yet know how much I love you? How you hang the moon and stars for me? Annabelle is a dear, dear friend. She was there for me in a time when you were totally unavailable, but she is only a friend. You needn’t fear that I prefer her company over yours. Even our conversation lent itself to you.”
“Me?” Carolina questioned, taking the handkerchief from James in order to wipe away the new tears.
James laughed. “Does that surprise you? You come in to find a woman kissing your husband, and you find it hard to believe we had just discussed you?”
For the first time since her arrival, Carolina offered her husband a weak smile. “It did seem rather odd to have spent the entire trip worrying about whether you lived or died, only to find you in the clutches of another woman.”
James touched her cheek lightly, and where his fingers traced her face, Carolina felt a tingle of warmth spread. “My home is with you. I’ve always come home to you.”
“It’s just that railroading is so unpredictable—so dangerous. I love the railroad, but I love you more.”
A grin broke James’ serious expression. “I was never quite sure about that.”
“Oh, don’t tease me now,” Carolina said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand sometimes what it is I feel. You make me cast aside normal thought, and my emotions are never so churned up as when you have stirred them with your words or actions.” She reached a hand up to lightly touch his bandage. “To think that I might have lost you—it’s unbearable.”
“And unnecessary. You didn’t lose me, and in time I will be back to perfect order. You’ll see.”
Carolina frowned. “Until the next time.” Her insecurities crowded in around her, placing a wall of fear between her and her heart’s desire. She knew perfectly well that her feelings defied her more logical nature, but this was life and death, and the life that hung in the balance belonged to the man she loved.
“You are borrowing trouble,” James whispered, eyeing her very seriously. “None of us knows the future. The end will come to each of us, even as it has come to those who’ve gone before us. We can’t stop living just because of the things that might happen tomorrow.”
“I know you’re right. My head hears your words and comprehends them just as it did the algebraic expressions you taught me as my tutor. But my heart—” she paused and drew her hand over her breast—“my heart isn’t as easily convinced.”
James took hold of her hand and placed it on his own chest. “My heart is convinced of only one thing. My love for you. The rest seems unimportant.”
“The rest is completely wrapped up in that one thing. If something should happen to you—”
He put a finger to her lips and hushed her. “Our faith for tomorrow is in God. Our faith in each other is bound there, too, for as we seek Him, we draw closer to each other. Our trust is strengthened and our love purified and refined. We must believe that He is in control of even the slightest detail of our existence.” He let his fingers trail down her jaw to her neck.
“I do believe,” Carolina said, shivering from the emotions stirred by his touch. “I must believe.”
He kissed her again, this time less urgently. “Believing often requires practice, just like algebra,” he said with a smile. “We’ll work at it together and you’ll see. It will all work together.”
Carolina stayed beside her husband until the doctor and nurse arrived to shoo her out. She stepped into the hallway, fully intending to find Thomas Swann awaiting her arrival, but instead she found Annabelle Bryce.