Chapter 25 #2
Alone in the warehouse, she reached inside a crate stacked with clean, folded blankets and clenched the cotton with all her strength.
Why did this war continue blasting inside her?
She’d done what she had for the right cause.
Mr. Colt had assured her he would check her list against the records in Allegheny County and would see to it the breaking story would end up in the correct hands once the information was verified.
The rulers of industry would be exposed, justice served, and she could finally have peace.
Tears filled her vision. All she wanted was peace.
She also wanted a future with Monty. Was it possible to have both?
“Miss Worthington, do you know where the rolls of bandages are?”
The voice startled her. She didn’t see anyone else but recognized Doctor Rose’s voice.
Embarrassed to be seen in such a state of agitation, she shook herself into action. “They’re here, sir.”
She fumbled on a top shelf and gripped the roll.
Doctor Rose rounded the corner. “Wonderful. Will you assist me in binding Mr. Childs’ ribs, please? Mrs. Heimlich has admitted another patient. Infection in the leg that will need drained.”
“I’ll be right there, Doctor.”
He left with the bandages.
Taking a few cleansing breaths, she stepped into the sunlight and prepared herself for whatever Monty had to say. She would not feel guilty about what she had done. She was a juror in the court of human life, and she was seeing to it that the club members paid for their crimes.
The air seemed thicker than it had been before. Her nerves stood on edge as she ducked beneath the tent flap. Mrs. Heimlich was speaking with the other patient, and Doctor Rose was assisting Monty in removing his shirt. Annamae halted abruptly. Monty’s gaze met hers over the doctor’s shoulder.
Her mouth went dry.
Blood, vomit, death—she took it all like a good soldier. Monty’s naked chest made her want to run the other way. Actually, it made her want to stay and appreciate his male form, which is why she should run the other way.
“Miss Worthington,” Doctor Rose called, sensing her presence. “Can you stand behind him and hold the end of the bandage below his armpit while I wrap? Be mindful of his bruise.”
She did as the doctor asked, careful of the angry knot on his side, and nearly jumped to the ceiling when her fingers touched his bare skin.
Goose bumps fanned across the cord of muscles on his back.
The sight would be perfection if it weren’t for the blotches of purple and yellow covering his flesh.
Wounds she was responsible for.
What if releasing the club membership to Mr. Colt put Monty in danger again? This time, they might aim to kill. Oh, why hadn’t she thought of that sooner?
Doctor Rose wound the bandage across Monty’s front then handed it to Annamae for her to continue the circle around his back.
They exchanged the ball of rags four times before they ran out of fabric.
Mrs. Heimlich called the doctor over to her patient while Annamae crossed to the front of Monty, holding the end of the bandage tight.
She tried to avoid his gaze, but cat-like curiosity had always been one of her weaknesses.
She raised her eyelashes to look at him.
Monty watched her, a smile touching his lips. He knew this affected her, and it amused him.
Clamping her teeth over her lower lip, she concentrated on tucking the end of the bandage inside the coil around his ribs.
“You seem flustered,” Monty whispered.
“I’m a professional,” she whispered back. “I don’t get flustered.”
Affection and desire flared in his eyes. Annamae glanced at the others in the corner to see if they were paying attention.
“Your face has turned a lovely shade of pink.” He brushed his fingers over hers.
She stiffened. “Then explain the redness in your cheeks as well. And don’t give me the excuse of being in pain or I’ll pull this bandage even tighter.”
He laughed softly. “I’m not sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered.”
She handed him his shirt. “Be both and get dressed.”
Busying her tingling fingers with whatever she could find to distract them, she waited—back turned—for Monty to cover himself.
“Thank you, Doctor.” Monty brushed past her.
“Return in two days, and we’ll give you a fresh bandage.” Doctor Rose raised his hand in farewell then returned to the patient with the leg infection.
Monty strutted from the tent.
Annamae trailed after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To the church.”
“I thought you had something to ask me.”
He feigned ignorance.
She slapped his arm.
“Ouch.” Monty snickered. “I guess I came for a purpose, didn’t I?”
She waited while he stared at her. “Well?”
“Come with me. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
He’d likely want to show her the first train back to Washington if he knew she’d spoken with Mr. Colt.
The story hadn’t gone to print yet, and even when it did, Mr. Colt had assured her she would remain anonymous.
Therefore, people would think that anyone could have provided him the information.
Or that a reporter investigated deeply enough to discover it. So why let it spoil the moment?
If Monty ever asked her, she’d tell him the truth. Otherwise, they could move on in their relationship.
“Let me change out of this apron and tell the administering nurse I’m leaving. I’ll meet you outside the new general store in fifteen minutes.”
Monty agreed, and she rushed into her tent to freshen up.
Small ringlets of damp hair burst from beneath her cap but would dry soon without it on.
She wiped her face, neck, and chest with a wet cloth, then applied a splash of rosewater.
How she wished she had one of her nicer dresses for the occasion.
But she had left anything impractical back at her apartment in Washington.
As promised, she met Monty outside the general store. Insecurity filled the space between them as she walked beside him toward the church. Finally, he spoke. “I heard Doctor Martin left. Did you give him a reason to go home, or had his time away from Washington expired?”
She cut him a sidelong glance. “If you’re asking if I rejected his offer of courtship, the answer is yes. I told you weeks ago that I wasn’t married because I hadn’t yet met a man I could tolerate spending the rest of my life with. That comment included Doctor Martin.”
Monty’s hands fell into his pockets. “Do you still feel you haven’t met a man you could tolerate spending the rest of your life with?”
Her irritation grew by the second. His confidence had filled the infirmary, and he had blurted his intentions in front of Mr. Lowman. Why was he being coy now?
“Yes,” she answered.
His steps halted, and his brows creased.
“I mean, yes, you can court me.”
He blinked. “You made that easier than I thought you would.”
She wrapped her hand around his arm, careful not to hurt him. “There’s no point in dragging this out. It won’t be long before the Red Cross will pack up and return to whence they came.”
“What about your life in Washington?”
She thought for a moment as they walked along. “I’ve grown fond of my life there, but after coming here, after meeting you, I’ve come to realize I’m not exactly happy living an independent life of solitude.”
“Neither am I.”
They neared the church, and amazement filled her at how much progress they’d made since her last visit.
“This disaster has reminded me how short and precious life is,” Monty said. “I want the days I have remaining to be spent with a good and honest woman by my side. Someone who loves the members of my congregation as much as I do. As much as God does.”
He stopped in front of the open doors of the church, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close without touching his bruised side.
Job trotted toward them and greeted Annamae, rubbing against her skirt.
Monty bent, and he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “You’re the woman I need, Annamae.”
Remorse attacked her conscience like a hungry lion. Would he still feel that way about her when he discovered what she’d done?