or spiked another fever. But the way his heart thudded inside his chest as he quietly slipped into her room, he knew he was fool—
He stopped cold in his tracks when he glimpsed her nestled safe in a fluff of quilts and pillows. His throat constricted. His pulse skidded to a halt, staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. He was so taken by her innocent beauty that he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away, even if he tried.
He advanced one step closer, growing increasingly uncomfortable at the way his thoughts were so caught up with this patient and the intense need he felt to protect her.
And wholly compelled by the way her auburn hair fanned across her pillow like rich strands of fine satin, gleaming in the sunlight. The late-afternoon glow poured through the windows in warm, comforting streams, lighting on her face to reveal a freshly scrubbed, pink tint there. Revealing also a small, ragged scar at her hairline. He’d missed it before with her matted hair, but now in the soft glow, he could see it. And the sight fixed a tight cinch around his stomach.
He gritted his teeth. Fisted his hands as images of this delicate woman being mistreated whipped through his mind once again. Any man who’d do that to a woman wasn’t worth his weight in gold, and must’ve been raised by the devil’s minions. Had it been an employer? Her father?
An appalling suspicion brought him up short.
Surely not Max. Max may have come by lying and cheating and drinking and gambling easily enough, but surely he couldn’t have found it so easy to physically harm his own wife.
Or could he?
Ben seethed with fury that Callie had been treated with such abject disregard.
When she stirred slightly and gave a small, distressed moan, he stepped nearer, instantly troubled by the way her brows creased in a frown. The way her mouth turned down at the corners in a distinctive look of fear.
Hunkering down next to the bed, he gently braced a hand on her shoulder. Instead of easing her distress, she jerked hard. Gasped in fear as her eyes flew open. She scrambled to the other side of the bed. Heaved a pillow over her head as if she meant to defend herself.
“Callie?” he spoke low, noticing how the covers quivered with the force of her heartrending trepidation. “Callie, it’s me. Ben.”
Her fingers blanched white with force. Her breath came now in short pants as she inched the pillow down. She slid a terror-filled gaze to him and blinked hard, once, then again as if bringing him into focus. He saw the light of awareness dawn in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she swung her gaze aside, fastening it to the wall as though holding the structure in place. “Are you all right?”
“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” Heaving a big sigh, she shot up to her elbows and glared at him. “Do you always do that to your patients?”
“I didn’t sneak up on you.” He kept his voice low and even. If she’d suffered abuse, then it would certainly account for her skittishness around him. He’d have to tread lightly when it came to touching her. “I came in to check on you. Just like I would any other patient. You’ve been sick, remember?”
The way she studied him out of the corner of her eyes as he raised his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever, one would think he had a gleaming scalpel poised, ready to make a deep incision. But the way she jutted her chin out in obstinate refusal to show weakness pierced his heart straight through.
“Well, next time knock, if you would, please.” She summoned her rose-colored lips into a headstrong pucker that brought to mind dainty rosebuds.
“I did knock.” He wrangled up his patience and his good sense, even as unsolicited images of those perfect lips touching against his drifted through his mind. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to convey that, but darn if his thoughts didn’t find their way there. “You must’ve been having a bad dream.”
“I was not,” she retorted.
He tried to hide his dismay at her stubbornness. “You feel cool to the touch. I’m glad for that.”
When he withdrew his hand, silky strands of hair whispered against his fingertips, kicking his pulse up a notch. He busied himself, pouring her a fresh glass of water as he forced himself to focus on her needs as a patient.
“I hope you didn’t overdo it with the bath.” He offered her the glass, his errant gaze locking on her lips as she took several generous sips. “I probably should’ve waited to make that suggestion.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine.” She fell back to the pillow. “In fact, I can’t believe how much better I feel. I’ll be up and working probably by tomor—” Her proclamation was interrupted by an unceremonious, lingering yawn.
“No, ma’am. Not tomorrow, you won’t.” Ben shook his head, trying hard not to grin at her strength of will, and the small glimpse of innocence he saw right then in her cute frown. “Not the next day either. I’ll let you know when you’re well enough to begin work.”
When she knit her brows together even tighter, he had the distinct feeling that he’d probably just stepped on her pride. He’d do it again, since he was a stickler for enforcing ample recovery time. And in her case, much needed rest.
“Thank you all the same, but I am fully capable of judging that for myself.” She crossed her arms at her chest. “And I feel more than ready to tackle the tasks that need to be done.”
“You are stubborn enough that you would, too.” He gently grasped her wrist to feel her pulse. “But I’m a doctor. And, honestly, I question whether you’re in the habit of making sound decisions regarding your health.”
With a protesting huff, she jerked her hand back.
“And before you go thinking that I just insulted you, let me assure you that it wasn’t meant as such,” he cut in, distracted by the way her soft skin remained imprinted on his. “Given the way you showed up here, I’d say mine is a fair assessment, don’t you think? No one in their right mind would have braved that kind of weather in the condition you were in at the time.”
Crossing to the dresser, he eyed the locket lying atop her worn garment. “Nothing is worth that.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them and since he’d given her his back, he could only guess what her reaction was. But the one thing he’d learned about Callie, thus far, was that even though she’d make gallant efforts to hide her emotions, the uncertainty that churned inside her pretty little head was evident on her face.
“Your brother told me to find you.” The words fell from her lips, stiff and measured and loaded with things unsaid.
He faced her. “What do you mean? Max sent you here?”
Suspicion, thick as mud, overpowered the compassion that had just moments ago pervaded his mind. Joseph’s and Aaron’s strong words of caution echoed through his mind. Maybe they were right—that he was too trusting at times. That he was too much of a soft heart. That he opened himself up to get taken.
But when he peered into Callie’s distressed gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to make that kind of outright conclusion. Not without direct proof, unshaded by doubt.
“That
