Could it be?Watseka moved her head ever so slightly.
Selah swallowed down a sob of gratitude, tears streaking her cheeks like rain. Just as hope soared, fear swooped in like a devouring raven. A great rustle of brush sent the Africanfleeing as a horse charged into the thicket. For a moment even the rain abated. The rider jumped to the ground, the fickle moon sliding behind a bank of clouds. Selah’s heart seized.
Laurent? They were on his land—
“Selah?”
Xander. She went weak with relief, her answer lost to another gust.
He sank to his knees, hands roving Watseka, assessing, much as hers had done. “I’ve brought two horses. Meihtawk will carry Watseka, and I you.”
“Where is the man who brought us here?” She half believed him to be no African but an angel in disguise.
Xander shook his head. “There’s none but us four. At least now.”
Selah released her burden to Meihtawk, only too glad to return to her husband’s arms. Atop the horse they took a different route to Rose-n-Vale, the wind giving way to deafening thunder.
44
The shutters were closed in Oceanus’s room, the dim morning light soothing. Watseka lay on her back atop the bed, eyes closed, her face a frightful spectacle of scratches and insect bites. Freshly bathed and dressed in a loose smock, she had a linen sheet pulled to her middle. Selah perched on a near chair as Candace and Widow Brodie came and went with food, drink, and tonic. These sat mostly untouched under Selah’s sleepless gaze. Though her eyes stung and she needed a good soaking of her own, she wouldn’t leave the girl’s side. Not yet.
Xander stood by her at intervals, having summoned the Mount Malady physic. They listened for his arrival as the sunny morning lengthened, making their travail of the night before naught but a bad memory.
“She is so still,” Selah whispered. “Alarmingly so.”
“After such an ordeal, rest will restore her better than anything else.”
“Mother has made sure she is well watered. She ate but a few bites of porridge, then fell back asleep. But she’s spoken nary a word.”
“I know one unerring remedy.”
She looked up at him in question.
He smiled. “Oceanus.”
“Shall you summon him?”
“Meihtawk is already on his way.”
The news rose inside her like the sun. Reaching out, she stroked Watseka’s bug-bitten arm, the welts covered by a poultice. “Oceanus will help restore her, aye.”
He kissed her before returning downstairs to his study. Stifling a yawn, Selah started to rest her head on the bed’s coverlet when a noise at the front of the house sent her to a window instead.
Below on a large gray horse sat Nicholas Claibourne, a fierce if former opponent of Xander and all his endeavors on the governor’s council. A friend of Laurent’s, he had an equally rakish reputation. Selah watched him dismount and walk to the front door, where a housemaid admitted him after a loud knock.
“Kentke.” The soft voice was more warble.
Surprised, Selah turned and moved toward the bed. Watseka’s eyes were open. She repeated the word, this time more clearly.
“Your pup? Last I knew he was with Shay in the orchard.” Selah smiled and squeezed her hand. “Would you like me to fetch him?”
A nod. Selah was hard put to contain her joy. She hurried downstairs just as Claibourne entered Xander’s study, the door shutting soundly behind them. Ignoring the dart of worry his presence wrought, she hurried outside to find Shay. He was at work cleaning up the battered orchard, the ground littered with ripe fruit and windblown limbs andleaves. Several trees had toppled. Nearby, curled up in a patch of sun, was Kentke, asleep.
“Watseka is asking for her pup.” Selah scooped the furry creature up, his gangly legs a testament to his growing. He licked her face with a dart of his tongue, reminding her of Jett reviving Watseka.
Shay smiled. “So, Miss Mischief has come to her senses at last.”
“’Twould seem so. Being missing for more than a fortnight takes a toll.”
