“Yeah . . . elevators kind of creep me out too but we won’t be in it very long.” Lilia latched on to his elbow and pulled.
“In it?” A look of disbelief arched his brows higher. He locked his legs and refused to move forward.
“Come on. Before someone else on another floor pushes the button and it leaves.” Lilia pulled him in the rest of the way, patting his chest as she led him to the back of the elevator. “I get to push the button this time.” She jabbed a knuckle against the seventh floor button then took a stance beside Graham. The doors slid shut and the elevator took off.
“Son of a bitch!” He splayed his hands against the wall on either side of him and lowered himself into a defensive crouch.
She rested a hand on top of his arm. Poor guy. She didn’t like elevators either and sheknew how they worked. “It’s okay. We’re almost there.”
The elevator jerked to a stop, the bell dinged and the doors slid open. Graham rushed out into the hall, glancing back at the thing as though it were a beast that had just spit him out. His eyes grew even wider as he looked around and realized it had transported them to a different place. His voice shaking, he drew closer to Lilia. “Where the devil are we now?”
“Seventh floor.” Lilia took his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Eliza’s room is down this way.” Her heart went out to him as his nostrils flared and he jerked a leery look all around. “Disinfectant.” She wouldn’t add that the sickening aroma of death also filled the air.
An efficient-looking older woman dressed in bright flowery scrubs and clutching a steel clipboard to her chest met them just as they passed the nurses’ station. “Good day to ye, Miss Sinclair. I thought ye’d already been by for yer morning visit wi’ Mistress Eliza. She didna mention ye’d not been in yet. Ye ken how she always fusses when ye stay here longer than she deems fit.”
Dear stubborn Eliza. Bound and determined that Lilia wasn’t going to waste a precious minute of life sitting at the hospital waiting for her to die. “I know. She always tries to run me off as soon as I get here.”
Lilia pulled Graham forward with an apologetic shrug. “I’m afraid we ran a bit late this morning. How is she? Has there been any change?” Even though her mind knew the odds of Eliza improving were nil, her heart couldn’t help but hope.
Compassion softened the nurse’s face as she barely shook her head. “Och, no. No change at all. But she does seem to be resting a wee bit easier today. I believe the new medication is controlling her pain a great deal better now that we’ve put her on the timed IV and she doesna have to ask for it. She’s none too happy about it—too strong-willed for her own good, that one is. Ye must convince her ’tis not a sign of weakness to allow us to ease her troubles.”
Lilia swallowed hard, battling the choking knot of emotions lodged in her throat. “I’ll do my best but you know Eliza. She thinks she’s supposed to take care of everyone else—not the other way around.” She nervously hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and gently pulled Graham forward. “We’ll pop in and sit with her a bit. Even if the meds have her groggy, hopefully, she’ll know we’re there.”
The nurse nodded with an understanding smile. “I’m sure she will, dearie. I’m sure she will.”
Lilia reluctantly led the way into Eliza’s room, bolstering her trembling wall of control as much as she could. It always broke her heart to see Eliza so still, so small—a faded weak shadow of the vibrant soul she had once been.
Lilia bit her lip. Her dear friend seemed paler today but the nurse was right—the stubborn old woman appeared to actually be resting rather than fighting the endless pain. The deep lines of pain that had been etched across her drawn face were somehow softer.
Graham eased into the room beside Lilia, his movements silent and reverent in the hush of the low-lit area. He scowled at the monitors mounted around the head of the bed, his eyes narrowing at the plastic bags of liquid hanging from the IV poles and the tangle of tubes disappearing into the padded tape cuffing both of Eliza’s pale thin arms and the port embedded just below her collarbone.
He moved closer to the bed, his head tilting to one side as he peered closer at her face. He bowed and made a polite dip of his closely cropped beard, one hand fisted to the center of his chest. “It is my honor to meet ye, Mistress Eliza. Graham MacTavish at yer service.”
Lilia’s heart hitched as Eliza’s eyelids barely fluttered and twitched. Her beloved guardian, fragile and worn from her battle, was making a valiant effort to rise from the depths of her drug-induced sleep. One of her mottled hands shifted atop the coverlet, her knobby fingers trembling as she lifted them in what appeared to be a weak acknowledgment that they were there. Her thin lips moved but no sound managed to escape.
Lilia slid her hand beneath Eliza’s cold, drawn fingers, gently cupping what had become little more than skin-covered bones. “Granny sent Graham to us along with his friend Angus. Graham wanted to meet you. He is your kin.” Her voice broke. Lilia swallowed hard and took another deep breath. She didn’t dare let the dam break and free her emotions. She had to be strong. Control had to be maintained or she would never regain it.
Eliza finally managed to open her watery eyes and focus on Graham. Her thin lips twitched at the corners as she wheezed in a shallow breath. “’Tis about time ye got here.” Her whisper was weak and broken but at least finally audible.
Graham shifted closer. A sad smile lifted a corner of his mustache. His voice fell to the hushed, consoling tone usually heard in the presence of the dying or out of respect for the already dead. “Aye, my kinsman. I did tarry. But I am here now and that is all that matters.”
“Aye,” Eliza whispered, her eyes slowly closing. “See that ye do well.” Without lifting her hand from the pillow cradling her bruised arm or reopening her eyes, she pointed a shaking finger at him. “I will haunt yer arse the rest of yer days if ye hurt my wee lass.”
Graham solemnly bowed his head in acceptance of Eliza’s verdict. “I swear to ye that our fine lassie here will never again face this world alone, m’lady.” Graham eased his hand to the small of Lilia’s back and gently pulled her closer. “I give ye my oath, Mistress Eliza, I shall protect this fine woman well and guard her true.”
Eliza didn’t respond but the quiet beeping of the heart monitor changed in rhythm, increasing in speed for an extended string of rapid erratic beats. The wavering green line bounced faster, additional spikes jumping across the screen. It carried on for several minutes then gently smoothed back to the weary beep with the neon line barely rippling. Eliza’s fingers twitched in Lilia’s hand, curling a bit tighter in a weak squeeze, then relaxed and went still. The old woman’s sunken chest shifted with a slow deep inhale then her body settled back in place as she released the breath.
Lilia held her breath, afraid to move as she stared down at Eliza’s face. The palest flush of color now washed across Eliza’s cheeks and she seemed almost serene. “What pact did you two just make?” she whispered, blinking fast and hard against the tears stinging in her eyes.
Graham pressed a warm, soft kiss against her temple. “That I will always be with ye.” His voice dropped to a lower whisper—a deep, lilting caress that lifted her up and held her. His soothing tone reassured her at a very basic level that all would somehow be well. “I grant ye, lass, she will rest easier now as she prepares for her final journey.”
Settling Lilia’s hand firmly in the crook of his arm, he gently pulled her away from the bed and turned them toward the door. “Come. Ye ken she wishes ye to go. Leave her to her rest now that she knows ye to be safe and protected.”
CHAPTER10
He jerked awake, body tensed, all senses alert. A cold sweat peppered across his brow. Graham sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, floundering to remember where the hell he was and how the hell he had gotten here.
“We’re here.” The clear, sweet voice soothed him immediately.
