Page 134 of The Formation of Us

“I said it, and I mean it.” She kissed his forehead, thankful it was only warm and not burning hot. “I love you for treating Adam with fairness. I love you for being kind to Cora, and giving her the daddy she needs. I love you for showing me a world I’ve never known. I love you for forgiving my lies, for defending my family, and for surviving that nasty gunshot.”

Her throat jammed with emotion, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled of balm and the herbs she’d used to ease his discomfort and bring his fever down.

“I was afraid I dreamed that,” he said hoarsely.

“You weren’t dreaming. I love you.”

“Then feed me. My belly button is touching my spine.”

She smiled and sat up. “I’m afraid you’ll have to start with chicken broth instead of eggs.”

He made a face. “Skip it then. Lock our door, and climb in beside me.”

She didn’t lock the door, and she didn’t climb into bed beside him, but she did lean down and kiss him. His lips were chapped, but their light, warm touch against her mouth comforted her. He was alive. Their nightmare was over. And he knew she loved him.

He turned his face away. “I must stink.”

“Not at all. We’ve taken good care of you.” She sat back. “You’ve had a sponge bath every day.”

“Not from Iris, I hope.”

“Only twice. We all took turns. Even Patrick and Cyrus helped.”

His laugh was weak but so encouraging. “I can imagine the rumors going around the mill.”

“Your reputation is shot.”

“I don’t mind. Trying to be faultless doesn’t . . . leave much time for living . . . and loving.”

“Then get better so we can do that.” She linked her fingers with his. “Our house is full of people waiting to see you.”

“Let ‘em wait.” He tugged her hand, and in the sweetness of his chaste, tender kiss, her heart turned over with love and gratitude that he had held on. For Cora and Adam, for his family, and most of all, for her.

Chapter 41

Duke was standing up gripping the bedpost when Faith walked into the room carrying a steaming bowl of God-knew-what in her arms. She stopped and gaped at him.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“I’m escaping.”

She arched her shapely eyebrow. “You’re going to fall and undo all my hard work.”

“I can’t take any more of your torture,” he said, only half-joking. “I’ll do anything if you’ll let me out of here.”

She smiled and set the bowl on the bedstand. “Get back in bed, darling, or I’ll send for your brothers.”

“They’re traitors. They’ve deserted me.”

“They come to see you every evening after they finish work.”

“I’m going mad lying in bed around the clock. I need to get back on my feet.”

“You will. When you’ve healed a little more and your strength returns. Now get in bed.”

He eyed the green and brown stuff floating in the bowl with suspicion. “I’m not drinking that.”

Her laugh rang through the room and she embraced him. “You don’t have to. I’m making a poultice from birch leaves and bark to put on your shoulder.”