Anna blinked, the pain in her side owning her attentions before the low throbbing that thumped in her head. She raised her arm and rubbed her eyes, once more blinking to focus her blurry vision. The bluish hue of winter daylight dusted in from the window and the fire sputtered. As her vision cleared, the familiar surroundings of the bedchamber calmed the sudden rise of fear. She was home. But where was William? What had happened—why was she abed?
She gasped and her throat seized. Tears burned her eyes as the still-sharp memories cut through the fog of pain. Shouts. Gun shots. Burning in her side and a strike against her head. Then blackness. She bolted rigid and pressed her hands to her belly. No, no, no, no! Please, Lord in heaven, no! A low, moaning wail ached its way through her chest, echoing her grief through the lonely room. The child was lost. It must be. How could something so small and precious survive something so grave? Sobbing, she kept one hand on her middle, covering her face with the other. She had lost everything. The man she loved and the child she’d hoped might be living within. Both things more precious than her own life, stripped from her forever.
Again William’s biting words and hard eyes nipped at her torn spirit, and she moaned as a wave of anguish crashed over her. She gasped through her tears before another storm of grief assailed her, hot tears running past her ears to the pillow.
“Anna?”
Someone rushed in and she turned away, heedless of the pain that slashed through her as she rolled to her side.
“Kitty, bring the broth. She will need to eat.”
Anna stilled, moving her hand from her face as the sound of the voice whispered through her like an unbidden memory. Nay, it could not be true.
A figure dented the bed behind her before a warm hand touched her hair. “Anna, I am here. Tell me what pains you, my love.”
She gasped and turned, disbelief plating her pains in gold. This could not be. It was too wondrous.
Blinking the moisture from her eyes she stared, unsure if she should allow such a vision to take hold should it be no more than a dream.
“William?”
He nodded, his mouth bowing in a soft smile, but ’twas only when he touched her face that she knew ’twas not a mere wish of her heart.
“I—” She put a hand to her mouth to cover her quivering face. “I thought you had left me—that you had that man take me away—”
“Never would I leave you.” William’s forehead pinched and he leaned forward, cupping her cheeks with his hands. His expression crumpled, his words fissured with pain. “Why? Why did you do it? You could have been killed, and I would have died of grief knowing ’twas by my hand. If I had lost you…”
Lost.
Like a wave in a tempest, the grief assailed her again and she covered her mouth, the sudden wails she could not suppress contorting her face. She gasped between sobs as William gently gripped her shoulders.
“What is wrong, my love?”
“I have…” She hovered her trembling hand over her mouth as she struggled to speak. “I have lost our baby.” The very sound of the words ground through her spirit like a millstone against grain, grinding to dust the longings she’d carried so many years.
“Nay, Anna.” William scooted closer on the bed, bending toward her and speaking over her cries. “Hush, my love, please. Nathaniel assured me our baby is well.”
The next cry stalled in her throat, but her hiccoughing breath still chopped through her words. “He did?”
Could it be true? Nay, she dared not believe it.
She blinked the moisture that still flooded her eyes and William’s smile stroked the quaking in her spirit. “Aye, he did.” William reached in his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, dotting it against her cheeks. “’Twas of great concern to him, to be sure the babe was not in danger.” He leaned closer still, his own eyes misting. Stroking her tear-streaked face with his hands, while his words stroked her spirit. “You are with child, Anna. We shall have a child.”
Tears pricked again, but no longer from grief. She took his hand from her face and held it against her chest. “I can hardly believe it.”
A reverent sparkle lit his eyes. “I can. ’Tis a miracle indeed and I could not think of anyone more worthy.” He lowered his gaze, pulling his lip between his teeth before meeting her stare once more. “I know you had wished to tell me. I hope you do not—”
“Is she all right?” Kitty’s voice burst through the room as she entered, when she stopped abruptly. “Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She rested a tray on the table, love stretching from her eyes and embracing Anna from a distance. She paused and touched William’s shoulder. “There is someone who wishes to see you.”
She nodded to Anna then William before turning for the door.
William pivoted, allowing Anna a clear view of the doorway, and the man who stood in its shadow. Her neck tensed as if the very hand of fear wished to strangle her, but William’s gentle touch and his welcoming gesture to the stranger eased her tensing muscles.
The man neared, standing at the end of the bed. William then turned back to Anna, brushing a hand down her arm and twining his fingers with hers. “My love, you must meet Warren Fox.”
The man stepped forward, gripping his hat in his fingers in front of him. His face warmed, tenderness coaxing an unfamiliar longing in Anna’s soul.
He opened his mouth then closed it, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Anna…” The man stopped again, looking to William and back again before the words streamed from him like a mountain brook. “You do not know me, but I know you—have known you since you and Samuel were born.”