Page 19 of On a Midnight Clear
Hope’s heart picked up speed. An escort. So there was no affection between the two. Nothing scandalous, anyway. Surely there was a little attraction. A man as handsome as he was and a lovely young woman like her...
She kept her tone as innocent as she could. “Mr. Bentwood is a friend of your family?” Perhaps the two had long been intended for marriage. Since childhood, maybe.
Yet, why did it matter? These two lovely people could marry if they pleased.
Miss Whitmore nodded. “He works for my father. Handles negotiations in the east, while my father takes care of dealings in the west.”
Hope murmured, “Ah, I see,” then stepped back. “Well. I hope your sleep is pleasant. Do let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” The young woman glanced past her to the main room. “Is Mr. Thompson all right? He looked quite unwell at supper.”
Hope turned to study the man now slumped over the table.
Asleep, maybe. Though his pain and fever might not allow it.
Likely he was too exhausted to hold his head up.
“The wound on his arm has festered badly. I’ve cleaned and dressed it, and I’m making a medicinal tea for him now.
But he’s feverish and needs close watching through the night. ”
Miss Whitmore’s hand fluttered to her throat. “I’m sorry to hear that. Please let me know if there is any way I can assist you in caring for him.”
“That’s kind of you.” Even with the privileged background the woman must have enjoyed, she appeared to have a caring heart. “I plan to have him sleep out here where I can tend him. Speaking of...” She looked at the kettle on the stove. “I should get that tea to him. Sleep well, Miss Whitmore.”
“Ellen, please. And thank you again. For everything.” With a final smile, Ellen retreated into the chamber and shut the door with a soft click.
While Hope returned to the main room and poured a cup of the pungent garlic tea, her mind worked through all the new details. An escort. Ellen’s father’s business associate. Yet that didn’t mean Mr. Bentwood was unattached.
And once more, why did this matter to her?
It shouldn’t. She loved life here, running the stage stop.
A man like Noah Bentwood could never be happy in such a remote, toilsome life.
She’d seen too many people pass through here, acting like they might want to stay, but they never returned.
She had to guard her heart from anything more than distant admiration.
She forced those thoughts away and set the cup in front of Mr. Thompson. She touched his shoulder. “Mr. Thompson. Can you sit up and drink this tea? It’ll help with the pain and cleanse your blood.”
With a groan, he lifted his head and straightened, then took the cup with his good hand. He sniffed the contents and wrinkled his nose. “Smells awful.”
She couldn’t help a chuckle. “I know, but it’ll do you good. The garlic will fight the infection, and the willow bark will help with the fever and pain. Drink up now.”
The man grimaced but took a tentative sip. He shuddered, then tipped the cup back and gulped down several swallows. When he lowered it, only a third of the liquid remained. “Tastes as bad as it smells.”
She strode to the trunk against one wall and pulled out an armful of blankets.
“You’ll need to drink a cup of it every few hours.
” She deposited two of the blankets on the floor where there was enough room to fit a mattress tick.
“I’m going to make up a bed for you here so I can tend you through the night. ”
“I can’t put you out, Miss Hope.” He shook his head and tried to stand but fell back onto the chair with a wince. “As soon as I rest a bit, I’ll bunk down in the barn with Bentwood.”
She fixed him with a stern look. “You’ll do no such thing, Sam Thompson. You’re ill and you need care. I won’t take no for an answer.”
The grizzled man sighed but surrendered with a nod. “I hate to be a burden on you and your brother.”
Hope stepped to the door, the rest of the blankets in her arms. “You could never be a burden. You need rest and prayer, and I’ll provide both. Wait there while I bring a mattress tick from the barn.”
He waved her off as he pushed to his feet once more. This time he made it. “I only need a blanket. A warm room and a dry floor are luxury enough.” He shuffled toward the quilts she’d placed on the floor and eased down to sit beside them.
She pinched her lips together. This point wasn’t worth arguing, but she’d bring the mattress tick inside anyway. The next time he woke, she could have him climb onto it.
Now it was time to see to the comfort of their other guest—one Noah Bentwood. Even the thought of him made her middle tighten. He had to be the most handsome man who’d come through their inn, at least that she could recall.
Those warm eyes and smile made her heart beat faster.
And his manners! He comported himself as a gentleman.
Yet he’d gone out in the snowstorm to help put the horses away.
He’d even gone back out with Martin after dinner to unload the coach.
In her experience, most gentlemen didn’t willingly roll up their sleeves any time there was menial work to be done.
She took in a breath and exhaled. She needed to keep her silly mind focused on the task at hand. They had two guests to make comfortable despite the snowstorm outside. And one very injured stage driver who would need her care through the night and the next few days.