a seat that lifted. At least she would have something to brace her upright. With much trepidation, he did leave her there as soon as she was near enough to reach it. She glared at him meaningfully until he turned away and left her alone.
A scant few moments later she reappeared, grasping the edge of the heavy wooden screen with both hands. “Nick?”
He rushed to her from the doorway where he’d been waiting. “Yes, dearest? Could you not manage alone?”
She tried unsuccessfully to focus on his face. “I see two of the bed. Help me to it?”
Gladly he scooped her up and put her back where she belonged, reminding himself to order Lofton to bring a bedpan. Less than a quarter hour into this sickroom business and Nick admitted he was already a sorry wreck.
Doc checked Emily’s pulse, pinched the skin on her arm, then urged her to drink a full cup of the broth Lofton had fetched. He waved Nick to the chair beside the fireplace. “You might as well get some rest while you can. This looks to be a long night ahead.”
Nick settled in the chair, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands, leaning his forehead upon them.
Alternately he prayed, cursed, promised and threatened all manner of things. He both vehemently beseeched and ordered the Almighty to allow her to survive, knowing all the while that what would be, would be.
Nicholas had been in dire straits more times than he could count, but never in his entire life had he ever felt so helpless as he did now.
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