Jesus, take me now.
“All right, everyone out of my way so I can work.” Dr. Penrose waved his arms around and knelt alongside her. “Tell me what happened, Mrs. Hale.”
Heat rose in her face and she blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. She whispered to the doctor. As she did, the crowd surrounding her shuffled closer so they could hear.
After listening to her story, Dr. Penrose turned. “I want everyone out of the room except her husband. I have to examine this woman.”
Chapter 6
After Dr. Penrose announced he would examine Angel, Mrs. Darby ushered the boys into the kitchen with promises of milk and bread with jam. Without fanfare, the doctor drew the blanket down to Angel’s waist. Nate took her hand when she flashed him a startled look in reaction to the doctor’s treatment.
Angel closed her eyes, and chewed on her lip. Sensing her discomfort, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. As he watched the doctor poke and prod, Nate attempted to maintain his composure, but his mouth had gone dry and his manhood stiff.
She was everything he’d imagined. Perfect white skin, with generous, rose tipped breasts, more than enough to fill his hands. To the right of her left nipple was a small mole. He imagined circling his tongue over that mole, and working his way over to the nipple to suckle. And then he would move his lips further down, circling her . . . He stopped when he realized what he was doing. For heaven’s sake, the woman was lying on the floor in pain.
After pushing gently on her ribs once more, Dr. Penrose announced Angel had bruised her ribs, and possibly cracked one. The bruises didn’t seem to be affecting her lungs, though. Nate didn’t know about Angel’s lungs, but he was having a hell of a hard time sucking in a lungful of air himself.
He and the doctor helped her to sit so he could wrap her ribs. Wrapping slowly and carefully, the doctor took his time, all the while leaving her bosom exposed. By this time Nate’s chest and back were covered with sweat. And he kept shifting his position to rearrange his parts.
“Now, Mrs. Hale, you are not to do anything strenuous for at least a week.” Dr. Penrose turned to Nate. “I know you’re newly married, son, but this woman cannot move her ribs until they heal. And being an intelligent man, I’m sure you know what I mean.” The doctor slapped him on his shoulder.
Nate nodded and mentally mumbled curses about bathtubs and soapy water.
“Get her into bed.” The doctor rolled his sleeves down. “I’ll leave something you can give her every few hours for pain. But don’t let her take it for more than a day or so, only until the worst of the pain passes.” He re-packed his satchel as he spoke. “By taking it easy, she should be fine in about a week. Bring her by my office after she’s had time to heal so I can take another look.”
Dr. Penrose eased her back down, pulled the blanket up again, and snapped his bag closed. Nate walked the doctor to the door, their heads bent together.
Angel winced as she shifted. She wouldn’t be able to move easily for days.
“Honey, I want to get the boys back into bed before I help you upstairs. You’ll be all right for a while?” Nate stood in the doorframe to the parlor, one shoulder leaning against it. Amidst the pain, a warm feeling washed over her at the endearment he’d used. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes again, tears still leaking.
Nate ushered the boys upstairs, and Mrs. Darby took her leave, with promises of returning the next morning to help out.
Angel must have fallen asleep, because it seemed only minutes before Nate returned and bent over her. “I’m going to help you up, and I’ll try real hard not to hurt you.”
“Could you get my nightgown first?”
“Oh, sure. In your trunk?”
She bit her lower lip. “I placed it on the dresser before I took my bath.”
After a few minutes, he returned with her white cotton nightgown, helped her to sit up, and eased the gown over her head. “I think it’s better if you walk, with me helping you, instead of trying to carry you.”
Slowly, with his arm wrapped around her waist, they made their way u
pstairs. A fine sheen of sweat had appeared on her pale face. Nate settled her in the bed, propped up on the pillows he had arranged.
“I’m really sorry,” she panted.
Nate shrugged. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yes, there is. I’m a calamity. I’ve been nothing but trouble since I got off the stagecoach. You must be so sorry you ever sent for a wife.” She looked up at him as one tear tracked down her cheek.
“No, honey, it’s okay. Honest.” He wiped the tear with his knuckle. “Now, you need to rest. Let me give you the pain medication Dr. Penrose left so you can sleep.” He took a small brown bottle out of his pants pocket and placed it on the dresser.
Angel sniffed, two more tears escaping. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red and dripping. She looked so pathetic, he pushed aside his disappointment at the loss of his wedding night. He headed downstairs to the kitchen and got a spoon. When he came back, Angel had slid lower, and was lying flat on her back.
He filled the spoon with the liquid from the bottle, and holding up her head, offered her the medicine. He used his finger to wipe a bit off the corner of her mouth. Then he impulsively bent down and kissed the spot he just wiped.