45. A Chance at Love

45

1865 October 30, Monday

Ido not know how long John sat there, but when I opened my eyes at dawn, there he was, his head resting on his propped hand, asleep on the chair beside my bed. He had not left my side since bringing me home.

When we reached the house in the early morning hours, the house was alight with gas lamps. Waiting for us. As if it knew we would return. That I would be found safe.

Mrs. Mathis and Nora whispered around me, but they did not speak to me, only speaking to John. Thankfully, Katie was asleep in her bed and would not see me shivering and bleeding.

John brought me to bed, Nora helping me out of my boots and stockings, Mrs. Mathis attempting to shoo John out the door, but he insisted on staying, and I did not deny him. He stayed while they helped undress me. Exhausted, I was barely aware of John's heated gaze when he saw my nakedness before a nightgown was pulled over my head.

I winced when Mrs. Mathis cleaned my palm and head wounds, the cut on my hairline especially tender. John poured me a large glass of whiskey, handing it to me to calm my nerves.

I killed a man today.

The shock was setting in and my trembling resumed, punctuated with nausea.

Mrs. Mathis did not ask where Seth was, and John did not volunteer the information as she wrapped my hand. John poured me another glass of whiskey and she chastised him, but I needed it to sleep. I did not know how I'd rest otherwise, knowing that as soon as I closed my eyes, I would see Ethan's battered and bloody head.

John pulled a chair beside the bed. Mrs. Mathis and Nora did not say a word, leaving us alone. Taking my hand in his, he pressed a kiss to my fingers and promised to hold it until I fell asleep.

Seeing him now when I awoke, my love for him swelled. He sat vigil all night, and somehow, I was able to find a dreamless sleep. My head was tender to the touch, but it no longer throbbed.

Sensing my eyes on him, John's eyes fluttered open. Neither one of us moved, just stared at each other. I could sense the love and worry radiating off him, and I reached a hand out to him.

"Did you sleep?"

"Yes. Thank you for staying with me."

"I'm so sorry, Ella. I'm so sorry this happened. I should have protected you. I should have made sure he never found you?—"

"John, don't. Please, don't. You protected me. I'm here."

"I could have done more?—"

"Stop it. He did this. He is the one to blame." I would not say his name. Never again. He was dead. "I'm safe now."

"But he hurt you."

"But I'm safe now. I'll survive this."

John brought my hand to his lips, tenderly brushing my scraped knuckles against them. "I could have lost you. I don't know what I would have done if?—"

"I know. I know." I had lost him. It nearly broke me. And now that I had him back, I would do anything to protect him. I knew then what I had to do. "John, I love you so much. You have to know you are so deserving of love and happiness. I want us to have our chance. For nothing to stand in our way. For us to have a chance to choose each other each and every day. And I'm so scared I may lose you again … you have to go."

"Go?" He stared at me, confused.

"You have to go west. Take that military commission. Do what you need to do, for yourself, your health, and if anyone—anyone—starts asking questions about the Williams' place, and you know they will. There will be an investigation once my pa goes to trial. You need to be gone … long gone. Seth too. Take him with you. Neither one of you should be here when that happens."

"What about you, Ella? I don't know if I can leave you now, not like this."

I gave a soft nod against the pillow. "I'll be here. Katie and I will stay here. And we'll write to each other. We'll survive this." My throat stung. "Once you're settled and ready for me, send for me. I'll do everything in my power to come to you. I promise, I'll come to you."

John reached for me, scooping me up from the bed, and cradled me in his lap. He did not say a word. He did not have to. He pressed me against him, his lips in my hair, my nose nuzzling his neck. I took him in. All of him. The scent of him—soap and grass, and an underlining smokiness of cigar. I took in the feel of him. His chest was filling back out, hard against me, his legs were firm beneath me, and his warmth penetrated my nightgown.

"I love you, Ella," he whispered against my lips.

"I love you, John." It was a goodbye, but I knew, in time, that I would follow him.