27
13 March
Austin Manor
Rowan tossed his domino onto the table, pushing it into place, sure he would win on his next turn. Across from him, Juliana absently tapped her tile against the wooden surface. It was then, with the click ringing in his ear, he recognized it was her last domino. She glanced up at him and winked before she dropped it, winning the round.
He sat up straight in his chair. “Bullocks!” he complained without any real heat. “A quick study, huh?”
Juliana brushed off her shoulder with her hand, chin tilted away, eyes sly.
“Did you hustle me?” he asked, incredulous.
Shrugging, she finally met his gaze, her lips curved in grin. “Maybe.”
Secretly delighted, he leaned back against the thick pillows, taking her measure.
Over the past forty-eight hours, Rowan had thoroughly enjoyed the time with his unlikely caretaker. Of course, the first twelve hours he didn’t remember because he’d been high as a kite. At the first glimmer of awareness, he found Juliana across from him, curled up in the leather chair, keeping watch. Leia bunched on her haunches, watching Juliana with the devotion of an unhinged fanatic. He shuddered to think of how many belly rubs Juliana must have bestowed to earn the level of hero worship he detected in his youngest pup. But it wasn’t only Leia who had seemed to fall under the princess’s spell. Even the more discerning of his dogs, Pelé and Leo had crowded around her, flanking her like sentries. He had a fleeting thought of reaching out for her and being nipped by his own dogs. The girl’s effect on everyone around her astounded him.
He tossed his remaining domino into the middle. When he reached to swirl the tiles together, he felt the tug of pain and the exhaustion of being hobbled. It was shocking how much more tired he was when he was lying around most of the day.
“You should rest,” Juliana remarked as she began to clean up the game.
Her observation bothered him. Four days out from surgery, he’d hoped for more energy, and he almost resented her ability to notice the lag. He hadn’t expected to be running sprints, but the need to nap three times a day reminded him of a toddler’s schedule. Weakness was difficult for him to shoulder. He wanted to argue with her but found he lacked the fortitude to spar.
Juliana packed the dominoes away and stood. With three shadows, she left the room. He knew what she was doing, now used to the routine. A movie, a game, a book, some small activity with little movement. Tea. Medicine. Nap. Still, her care surprised him. The petulant, spoiled heiress he wanted her to be never seemed to materialize. It was the last thought he had before sleep claimed him.
When he woke, he pushed to his feet, now used to the weight of the brace and the discomfort of movement. No longer a well-honed machine, he creaked like a rusted, stalled engine. Moving with the speed of a slug, he used the loo and returned to the couch, now imprinted with the shape of his body. He noticed the quiet then. When he looked around, the empty room greeted him. He realized Juliana must have taken the dogs out.
Without second-guessing, he crutched toward the back of the house, where a spectacular terrace ran the length of it, a launch pad for the sprawling grounds beyond. He heard the jingles of collars, the excited yips and playful barks, and Juliana’s laughter. Involuntarily, he smiled.
The sounds of his arrival alerted his dogs, and they changed course, barreling in his direction. The breeze rippled through the trees, and the sunshine danced across the naked winter branches. Still, he stood, watching as Leo, Pelé, and—belatedly—Leia, enthusiastically turned on their thrusters, warping toward him. Too late, he realized his folly. He scrolled through options in his head to curtail the certain collision.
“Fuss!” he commanded, squeezing his crutch with his armpit and extending his hand.
Leo slammed to a halt a meter in front of him. Pelé, bless him, tried to stop but clipped the crutch dangling from under Rowan’s arm. Rowan shifted his weight, making sure his planted foot was loose, not locked. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ro!” Juliana yelled. “Sit down!”
Rowan, basking in the temporary glow of averting certain disaster, didn’t register what she was saying. He reached out and gave his dogs a good head rub. Then, he heard it—a sharp bark. Turning his head, he saw Leia in full sprint, hoping to join in the lovefest.
“Fuss!” he clipped out.
Leia’s eyes met his, and he could almost see her will. She wanted to obey, but inertia was going to win. Rowan flung his crutches and slumped to his ass. He felt every jerk of every muscle as he went down. The metal brace reverberated against the heavy stone of the terrace. He jarred his tailbone, pain radiating up so sharply that his teeth chattered. He braced for impact. Then, Leia leaped, her body flying through the air, hurdling Rowan’s prone form. He watched her sail over his head, astounded by her athletic ability and grateful for her instincts.
He fell back and looked at the sky, blinking in the bright sunlight. Closing his eyes, he cataloged all parts of his body. There was a dull throb in his knee, but it was the staccato beat of his heart capturing his attention. His dignity hurt slightly more than his body. He opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by three concerned muzzles. Leia whined next to him. He sat up with some effort.
“Are you okay?” Juliana said, scurrying in his direction. “I tried to hold her, but the idea backfired on me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything move so quickly.”
Rowan tilted his head, so he could see her looming over him. “I’m fine.”
“Really?”
He completed another inventory. Nodding, he said, “Yes.”
Juliana turned away from him. From his position, the sun cast Juliana in shadow. Rowan saw her raise her hand to her mouth. He thought he heard a noise but couldn’t be sure. He gathered his crutches, but not sure of the best way to stand, he remained sprawled out. He finally decided to roll over, leaving his brace out straight as he pushed up onto his hands and one knee. Then, he got stuck. He felt Juliana’s hand on his bicep, and he allowed her to help him to his feet. Feeling steady, she let go of him.
“You hungry?” she asked.
He looked at her, but her gaze skittered away from him.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you laughing?” he asked, incredulous.
A cough and a sputter came from her. She composed herself and met his stare. “No,” she said, straight-faced. Then, she bit down on her lip.
Leia sat between them, her head on a swivel.
“You were,” he accused. “I could have cocked up everything the surgeon did.”
She blinked at him, all innocent and wide-eyed. “I know. It was horrible to watch. I’m glad you are okay.”
He continued to scrutinize her, but he could find no hint of anything other than concern. With a nod, he turned toward the house, all three dogs prancing along behind him. Juliana caught him quickly, and reaching the door before him, she pulled it open.
“Thanks,” he said.