He pulled the sheet to her knees, exposing the bandage on her calf and another around her ankle.
“When did you do that?”
“Last night.” He examined his handiwork somewhat awkwardly. “You didn’t budge when I bandaged you up. You were too tired. It was the smoke. You swallowed quite a bit.” He handed her a glass of water. “See if you can keep some of this down.”
She took a sip, but her lungs seized, and the coughing spasm rifled inside her rib cage.
Ezekiel removed the glass from her hand before she dropped it and patted her upper back. “You’ll be fine.”
“You sure? Everything hurts,” she said. “I should get up.”
“And do what? No, rest your leg.”
“I am tired.”
“Would you like something to eat? I can bring you a tray.”
Feeling her eyelids droop, she scooted down in the bed. “I think I’ll sleep a little longer.”
“I’ll come back later with some food.” He paused at the door. “I’m so sorry.” Ezekiel rubbed a rough hand through his hair.
“Careful. You’ll pull out all those pretty waves.”
He looked away, but not before his eyes darkened. What else was on his mind?
“This is my fault,” he said quietly.
“What? The fire? Fires were burning all day everywhere.” She coughed.
He reached for the pitcher of water, but she shook her head. Anything might cause another coughing spasm.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ezekiel. You didn’t set the fires and didn’t break my ankle.”
“Not broken.”
“I was scared.” She snuggled beneath the sheet. “There was never any heat in that old building.”
He stood next to the bed. “I’m so sorry, Honoree.”
“Stop saying that. People were freezing and wanted to be warm.”
“The fire in your building might’ve been caused by Gallo’s men. Those boys knew where you lived.” His words made gooseflesh rise on her skin. “That’s why I’m saying, my fault.”
“Come here.” She shifted to the middle of the bed, pulling up her mother’s quilt and smiling. “Bessie had it?”
He nodded.
“Come lie with me.”
Ezekiel wiped a hand over his eyes. “I’m wearing my work shoes and overalls.”
“You know how to wash clothes. My mother taught you.” Something in her heart turned, and her throat closed on a sob. “I want you to hold me. I need to be held.” She placed her hand over her heart. “I think you could use some holding, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He unlaced his shoes, kicked them off quickly, pulled down his suspenders, and crawled into the bed next to her, fully clothed.
“Go to sleep now.” He hugged her to his chest. “I missed you so much.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “My sweet, sweet Honoree.”
* * *
