style="font-size:15px;"> Ben wasn’t convinced—not by a long shot.
And judging by the softening look on Ida’s face, she wasn’t convinced, either. With only the strength in his index finger, he pushed her back on the pillows. “Your dress is in a wet heap on the floor. And you’re not moving a muscle.”
Ignoring him, Rachel sat forward. “Perhaps, then, I could just trouble you ladies for a dress. I could trade mine for it. Once it is dry you will see that it is a fine dress.”
“When you are well, I will happily see to getting you a dress. For now, listen to Ben, dear,” Ida cautioned. “Your health could take a turn and you would find yourself in real trouble.”
Clutching the blankets, Rachel boldly swung her legs over the side of the bed. She paused, clearly dizzy. Her mind wanted more than her body could manage.
The woman was stubborn, Ben thought.
She started to crumple forward.
Ben wrapped calloused hands on her bare shoulders. Her skin burned with the heat of a fever now. He eased her back against the pillows.
Rachel’s breathing was ragged. “I really must leave.”
She was weaker than a kitten and it took only a slight nudge to settle her.
“Lady, only a fool or a runaway would try to leave in your condition,” Ben said evenly. “So tell me, which are you?”
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