Chapter 21
Cressida took in a deep breath and blew it out, a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how much she rubbed her sternum.
She had just woken up, but it felt like the world was crashing in around her.
How could one little fever make her feel so awful?
She sucked in a breath of fresh air, looking out the window as the sun sank lower in the sky, a dark blue band across the top, the clouds making it look a little fuzzy as they moved across the sky.
There was a soft knock at the door before it opened. Ronan stepped in with a steaming cup in his hand, his eyes lightening when he saw her, a slow smile spreading across his face that had her sitting up and reaching to adjust her hair.
Even something as simple as sitting and leaning back against the headboard felt like it took an impossible amount of effort.
“I brought you some more tea.” Ronan approached the bed and sat on the edge beside her, careful not to touch her.
That didn’t matter, though. She could feel how close his body was. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the way it made her shiver when she smelled sunshine and soap on his skin.
“We shouldn’t have had any fever tea left,” Cressida murmured, her thoughts clearer than they had been the other times she had been awake. “I was running low on it, and if you gave me some this morning, that would’ve been the last of it. Etta didn’t ride, did she?”
Cressida’s heart leaped to her throat thinking of her sister on a horse. She wasn’t allowed to ride. It would only make the injury worse, and then Etta would have to rest more than she already did.
No, there was no way Cressida was going to stay in bed when Etta was risking permanently injuring herself.
“I went to get it,” Ronan said, moving the cup closer to her lips. “She told me where to go and what to get. Briggs wants you to feel better soon.”
“Well, I feel much better, and I don’t want the tea. I want to get out of this blasted bed.”
He laughed, his eyes shining with amusement. “Language,” he said teasingly.
“English, if you must know, but I could say it in French too,” Cressida snapped before losing steam and sinking back into the pillows. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help, but sitting in this bed is making me feel helpless.”
“Good. You are helpless right now.” Ronan inched the teacup a little closer to her. “Come on now, drink the tea. It’s going to make you feel better. And if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I rode all the way to town, which I’ve been trying to avoid, and had to speak to Conrad.”
“Oh, come on, he’s not a bad man. He’s a little pushy at times, but I think he means well.” Cressida’s mouth twitched, the tightness in her chest starting to ease the longer she sat there with Ronan.
“He is certainly pushy. Now, are you going to feel bad for me and drink the tea, or are you going to keep fighting with me and avoiding the fact that just this once, you aren’t as strong as you think you are?”
Cressida gave a teasing gasp, her hand flying to her chest. “I’m plenty strong.”
“I never said you weren’t, but right now you’re not as strong as you think you are, which means you need to slow down, give yourself a second to breathe and heal, and we can go back to working on the homestead as soon as you’re able to sit up without looking like you’re going to faint.”
“You know, you’re becoming rather demanding the longer you’re around us.” She leaned forward slightly and took a sip of the tea regardless of how she felt, unable to deny him entirely.
Even though Ronan was teasing her and smiling, she could see the worry in his eyes each time he looked at her. She didn’t want to keep seeing that look.
Though she supposed this was what Etta must feel like when Cressida was telling her to slow down and take care of herself.
Perhaps it is time I loosen the reins with her even more. She’s a grown woman, and I keep hovering over her like a mother hen. It must make her feel worse than I thought.
Ronan looked at her with warmth in his eyes as she leaned forward and took another sip of the tea, draining half the cup, hoping it would chase away the last of the fire in her veins and make her feel a little bit better.
“Will you at least agree to rest for today?” Etta asked, pushing open the door with a small paper-wrapped package in her hands. “I was so worried about you.”
Ronan stood as Cressida opened her arms. Etta flew into them, holding her tight, pressing her face into Cressida’s shoulder.
Cressida hugged her back, not wanting to think about what Etta’s life would’ve been like if the fever had taken her. As she held tight to Etta, she tried not to cry.
When Etta pulled back, she was beaming, holding out the package again. “Since you need to spend the rest of the night in bed, I thought it might be good to get you something to do.”
Gingerly, Cressida took the package and slipped her finger beneath a fold of the paper, carefully unwrapping it to find a beautiful violet leather-bound journal. She turned the thick pages, her eyes watering.
“This is such a thoughtful gift, Etta. Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Cressida held the journal to her chest, knowing she would treasure it forever.
“I thought you might want to work on some of your lesson plans.” Etta’s cheeks were flushed a pale shade of pink.
“I know how much you’re missing teaching, and I think you should get back to it.
I can handle enough around here on my own, and if you go back to teach, we could hire a hand to help with all the animals, so all the work doesn’t fall on you. ”
“Thank you,” Cressida said again, but she didn’t know what to say to the rest of Etta’s ideas.
While she could go back to work, and while she knew she needed to let Etta have more freedom, the thought of being so far away and leaving Etta home alone for the day made her feel uneasy.
It was too much, too fast.
“Supper is almost ready,” Etta said, glancing at Ronan. “I’ll make a big plate for you and keep it warm until you’re ready to eat.”
“Thank you.” Ronan put the teacup on the bedside table, sitting down in the chair beside the bed, slipping his hand into his pocket, and pulling out another wrapped package as Etta left the room, shutting the door behind her.
“What’ve you got there?” Cressida asked, eyeing the package in his hands.
Ronan shook the package slightly. “This? Oh, you wouldn’t be interested in this. Not at all.”
“Oh, well now I think you’ve got my curiosity spiked. You’re going to have to show me what’s in that. Get something for yourself in town?”
If there was one thing she didn’t like, it was secrets. Even if it was something as harmless as a present, it had always bothered her, even as a child, to not know what someone else might be hiding.
“Curious, huh?”
“Oh yes.” Cressida put the journal to the side gently, still glancing at the package in his hands, trying to figure out what it might be.
Ronan smirked, shrugging and crossing his arms, hiding the present. “I don’t think you really want to know what it is.”
“I do.” Cressida leaned to the side slightly, still trying to get a look at the package.
“When I was little, I used to go through my mother’s trunk at Christmastime.
She always made me a new dress to wear at Christmas, and I would always find it before she had the chance to give it to me.
Eventually, she turned it into a game to see how long it would take me to find out where she had hidden it that year. ”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if I ever get you a gift again, but I think so far I’ve done a good job at hiding it.”
“You’re going to have to show me what you got me now.” Cressida gave him a teasing smile before it fell. “If we’re being honest, though, there was no need to get me anything. It’s too kind of you.”
“I saw what Etta got you, and I thought you could use something to go with it,” he said, handing over the package. “And I know I didn’t have to, but I saw it at the store, and I wanted to. It seemed like exactly the kind of thing you should own.”
Her heart swelled in her chest as she looked at him, holding onto the gift for a few moments with a smile on her lips.
“Are you going to open it?” Ronan asked, laughing as she started to slip her finger under the paper, slowly opening it.
She wanted to take her time with this moment, savoring it as much as possible. Even though she had loved her husband, he hadn’t been the kind of man to come home with presents. He was far more likely to take her out for an evening ride and watch the sunset with her.
Which she had to admit was nice, but there were times when she wished he had done something as simple as picking a wildflower on his way home to give to her just because he knew she liked them.
When she finished opening the present, a glass dip pen and a little pot of black ink were in her hands. The glass pen was one of the prettiest things she had ever seen, with white swirls running through it. Whoever had made it was a master at their craft.
“Thank you,” she said, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I love it.”
Ronan rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at her, a sparkle to his eyes that she didn’t think she had ever seen before. “You’re welcome.”
Perhaps this was the beginning of the dream she had about them. The one where he fell in love with her and she fell in love with him, and five years later, they were living the life they wanted, their first child on the way.
At one time, it seemed like a foolish dream, one that she shouldn’t dare hope for because she hardly knew him.
But knowing that he had taken his day to care for her, that he thought about the things that would make her happy, made her think that maybe the dream wasn’t so foolish or far off after all.
There was a life in which they could be happy with each other, she was sure of it.
“Can’t have a new notebook without getting a new pen,” he said, almost like he was trying to make the gift seem smaller than it was.