“It’s— I’m fine.” He let go of her arm.
And collapsed on the sidewalk.
#####
“THANK YOU,” DEIRDREsaid to the two men who’d stopped to see what was wrong. They were on one of the many building crews in town, and they’d kindly lifted Jeremiah and carried him to the boardinghouse after Deirdre had ascertained that he’d passed out.
“Don’t mention it,” one of them said. “He’s the livery fellow, ain’t he?”
She nodded.
“He’s the one who let me work off borrowing a horse when I got to town. I didn’t have the money for it. You’ve got yourself a good man, ma’am.” He tugged his hat at her as they left.
Deirdre’s insides clenched. Of course Jeremiah would do anything to help someone in trouble.
“I’ve brought you some cold water and a couple of cloths.” Miss Darby bustled into the room and set the items on the table by the bed. “If it’s a fever, all you can do is wait it out.” She laid a hand on Jeremiah’s forehead and made a clucking sound. “It’s a bad one, but not so bad I’d say you need the doctor.”
“Are you certain?” Deirdre twisted her hands together. “He’s awfully warm.”
Miss Darby straightened. “I’ve seen many a fever, Deirdre. It’ll break. But if it gets worse, send for me and I’ll get my brother to fetch the doctor.”
That was a relief, although Deirdre hoped not to need a doctor at all.
“Get him as comfortable as you can. Cool him down with the cloths. And wait.” Miss Darby gave one last look at Jeremiah, and then closed the door behind her.
Deirdre moved the lamp she’d lit closer to the table by the bed.Get him comfortable, Miss Darby had said. Well, she’d start with a cold cloth. She dipped the fabric into the water and wrung it out before folding it and laying it on Jeremiah’s forehead. He stirred just slightly at her touch.
“Jeremiah?” she said, her words sounding louder than they should in the silence.
He didn’t answer, but she thought she saw his eyelids flutter. Perspiration still dripped from his forehead. She could feel the heat radiating from his body when her hand was still inches away from him. He had to be burning up in that suit.
She glanced at the door, wishing the men who’d carried him here had stayed. She could have asked them to undress him and put him into something more comfortable. But they’d gone, and Miss Darby had to be busy with her own work.
Don’t be a ninny, she told herself. He was her husband. She had to take care of him, whether he’d want her to or not.
Mind made up, she reached for his jacket. Trying to be gentle, she pushed and pulled until she’d gotten one arm out. Moving to the other side of the bed, she tugged on the fabric, but it wouldn’t slide beneath him. She had to lift him up somehow.
“Jeremiah,” she said, coming to kneel at the side of the bed.
He stirred just slightly.
“Jeremiah,” she said, more forcefully this time.
He made a pitiful groaning sound.
“Here.” She perched on the edge of the bed and reached an arm beneath his neck. “I need you to lift your head, just a little, so I can get this coat off you.”
He moved just slightly, and she gritted her teeth as she lifted his head higher and worked the jacket out from beneath him. It finally came loose, and she gently let him fall back to the pillow. She fixed the cold cloth before tugging the jacket off his other arm.
When she was finished, Deirdre was perspiring herself. Taking care of a sick person was certainly not the easiest thing she’d ever done. She didn’t think she’d gotten this much exercise cleaning out the horses’ stalls in the livery.
“All right,” she said more to herself than to him as she hung his jacket on the back of the desk chair. Her eyes traveled the length of him. “Shoes.” That shouldn’t be too hard.
His boots came off easily. She took a moment to soak the cloth again before considering what to do next. She stood there a moment, thinking. He ought to have his pants off, but she couldn’t imagine trying to do that on her own—and for that she was grateful. She tried to picture herself telling him she’d availed him of his trousers once he felt better. The very thought made her face go hotter than his was at the moment.
What she could do, though, was unbutton his shirt. That would allow more cool air to reach him. She didn’t let herself hesitate, or else she might not have done it at all. The heat from his body warmed her hands as she worked the buttons, and she let out a breath of relief when she saw the thin shirt he wore beneath the finer one. Of course he’d have on another shirt. She nearly laughed at herself, expecting to see his bare chest, except that she also felt vaguely disappointed.
“Oh, pull yourself together, Deirdre,” she whispered as she reached the last button. The man was ill, and here she was, wishing he might not have been wearing an undershirt.
