Chapter 5 Thea
Chapter five
Thea
Everything was on fire. Her body was burning up, and there was nothing she could do about it. At the same time, everything was so cold she couldn’t stop shivering.
Thea drew her body into herself, wrapping her arms around herself and getting through one particularly violent shiver before attempting to swing her legs out of bed.
Moving her feet felt impossible, but she couldn’t lie in bed all day. She had Ginger and the other cat to take care of, and a store to run.
At the very least, she needed to get herself some water.
As she swung her legs toward the floor, she groaned at the movement, which sent even more shivers through her body.
How was she supposed to manage the store like this? She couldn’t, really. She’d have to close the café.
The urge to collapse back into bed was strong, but her mouth was dry. She needed water. She couldn’t get dehydrated.
If only she had someone else to rely on. She needed an apprentice, someone to help run the store if she got sick. Even though she never got sick.
She couldn’t think of the last time she’d been so under the weather that she could hardly get out of bed.
But this... This certainly was a doozy of an illness.
She finally managed to swing her legs over the end of the bed and lie there, flat on her back, trying to find the energy to force herself to sit.
The act of sitting up made her feel lightheaded, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.
She couldn’t pass out. She had no one here to catch her.
Would it be better for her to lie down rather than risk passing out while standing up?
She wanted her mother.
Something about being sick must create a reflex that you never outgrew, because Thea was a grown woman whose mother was long gone, but still, her mother was all she wanted.
But Mother wasn’t here, and she had animals to take care of, and she could not leave them alone.
She struggled to her feet, then sat back down as another wave of dizziness crashed over her.
Maybe she should take a nap before trying again.
There would probably be cat pee somewhere in the café with the new cat if she left them unattended for too long, but it would be better to clean up cat pee than to pass out and hurt herself. Right?
She was gathering her strength to begin another attempt at standing when there was a knock on her bedroom door.
Thea’s heart caught in her throat. Who had broken into the café? “Who is it?”
“It’s Nathaniel,” a familiar voice responded, and Thea sighed.
He was safe. She didn’t have to worry. But why was he here?
“How did you get in here?” she called back.
“I have a key, and people were worrying about you.”
It was nice to have people to worry about you, she supposed. “You needn’t worry,” she tried to say, but her voice wavered through the words.
“May I come in?” he asked quietly, cracking the door open and speaking through it.
“It sounds like you already are,” she said wearily.
Nat pushed the door open, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.
Thea glanced down. She’d forgotten she was wearing her nightgown. Normally, she would have been dressed for the day long before now.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” he said, “but I wanted to make sure you were well.” He glanced at her with skepticism. “It doesn’t look as if you are.”
“I will be fine,” she said, waving her hand at him, even though the motion took effort. “I was just getting up.”
“I don’t think you are,” he said, shaking his head and walking toward her. “You need to lie down.”
“I do not need to lie down,” she said, her voice frosty. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he said sternly, reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder. It took everything in her not to lean into his touch the way she once had.
“You’re burning with fever,” he said, frowning at her. “I can feel it through your nightgown. Lie down. I will take care of you.”
“But the café—” she began, and he shook his head.
“I’ll put a sign on the door. People will understand. You’re allowed to be sick occasionally.”
“I’m not sick,” she tried to protest, but he gently pushed her shoulder until she had no choice but to lean back and lie down again. Her pillow felt cool on her cheek.
“Rest, Thea.” There was a warmth in his voice that echoed the love in his eyes. She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see it.
“It is nice to lie down,” she admitted. “You’re sure the café will be all right?”
“If anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me,” he said sternly. “You need to rest, and I won’t hear another word.”
Thea sighed and opened her eyes to grimace at him. “If you say so.”
“I do,” he said cheerfully. “And you have no choice but to listen to me. Stay here. I’ll bring you some tea.”
“I don’t need—” she began, but he cut her off with a stern glance.
“What you need is to let somebody take care of you,” he said. “I don’t want to hear any more arguments.”
Thea sighed and closed her eyes. It didn’t seem worth it to argue with him.
There was nothing that Nathaniel was better at than taking care of someone.
She knew that all too well, and it was nice to be reminded of it, even if it rankled that she had to experience it once again when she’d had no intention of letting him get any closer.
Knowing him, he was probably excited to get to make her tea again.
He was the only one other than her parents who had ever taken the time to learn how she liked it and regularly bring it to her.
She’d missed that.
“I will be right back,” he promised, hurrying out the door.
With the door now open, Ginger left, too, and Thea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how she’d planned on spending her day.
The next thing she knew, Ginger was snuggled on top of her legs, and there was a glass of water beside her bed.
She hadn’t even noticed that he’d brought it.
Her cheeks heated at the thought of him being in her bedroom without her noticing.
But if there was anyone she would trust in that position, it was Nathaniel.
He, of all people, knew how to take care of her.
She reached out and took a sip of the water, then closed her eyes again.
There was a knock at the door, and Thea opened her eyes to see Nathaniel opening the door quietly and poking his head in.
“You’re awake,” he said brightly when he saw her eyes open. “I was wondering if you would be. You’ve had quite a long nap.”
The embarrassment flooded her cheeks. Perhaps it was still the fever that made her feel so warm.
“How long did I sleep?” she asked.
“It’s nearly evening,” he said gravely, “but when I came to check on you earlier, you told me to go away quite forcefully.”
She thought her cheeks were already warm, but they somehow grew warmer.
“I apologize,” she said. “I’m not quite myself when I’m sick.”
Apparently he’d noticed, but there was a grin on his face, and he didn’t seem upset. He walked over and sat at the foot of her bed, with Ginger between them. “It’s been a while since you’ve yelled at me like that. Fortunately for you, I didn’t mind.”
Of course, he didn’t mind. He was probably rejoicing in the fact that she was speaking to him.
“I hope you don’t get used to it,” she said lightly.
“Why not?” he asked, his tone serious. “I would love to get used to it.”
The room grew quiet as Thea struggled to come up with a good answer. The silence was broken by Ginger getting to her feet and letting out a loud meow.
Thea smiled down at her cat and reached over to pet her.
“She’s barely left your side all day,” Nathaniel said, granting her a change of subject.
She shot a grateful smile at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Would he know why she was thankful?
He regarded her with those big brown eyes that had always given her such warmth—even when she wasn’t speaking to him. “You know I would do anything for you,” he reminded her.
“I know,” she admitted, the words sticking in her throat. She did know that. She had known it from the moment he had first entered her life and kept her from falling.
She had long known that Nathaniel Alder would always be there for her—but how could she let him after everything that had happened? How could she learn to depend on him again, knowing that he had left once? It didn’t seem possible.
“Thank you for your help today,” she told him. She couldn’t say much, but she could say that. “And I’m sure Ginger is thankful, too,” she added lightly. “She might have been trapped in this room all day if I couldn’t manage to stand up long enough to open the door.”
Nathaniel let out a chuckle. “I think she would’ve voiced her displeasure loud enough for you to let her out,” he said.
“Did you open the café?”
“For a little while,” he said, “though I didn’t do nearly as good a job as you do. Everyone was concerned for you, and since I wasn’t going to leave without making sure you felt better, I figured I might as well sell a few leftover things while I was here.”
Thea smiled. “Thank you again.”
Nathaniel could no longer meet her eyes, and he got to his feet with a brisk smile. “I made soup,” he said as he hurried toward the door. “It’s not much, but it’s what my mother always made for me when I was ill. It never failed to make me feel better. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you,” Thea called as he quickly escaped and hurried down the stairs, his footsteps thundering through the building.
She let out a sigh. Why did he have to be so wonderful? And what was she going to do about it?