“Here,” she said, fiddling with the supplies in her apron. “I brought more liniment and wrapping. Let me see your arm.”
“As you wish,” he said, dipping his head. “Although you avoid my questions, youarea faithful nurse.”
She could feel his gaze on her but was afraid to meet his eyes for fear of what she’d see there—or what she’d feel in return. “This time, can you try to keep it dry for more than a few hours?”
“I’ll make no such promise. My ship and my men need me, and I cannot stand by like a lily-livered dandy just because of my arm.”
“You are insufferable.”
He just smiled. He ought to win an award, if not for bravery, for sheer stubbornness. She glanced down at the faded scar she’d noticed before on his other palm. “You’ve had pain before.”
“Yes, I have,” he said, his tone finally showing weariness. Every inch of his person hung with exhaustion. He looked at her, and Ann thought she saw sadness there. Instead of saying more, he cleared his throat.
She gently took his arm and applied the salve to the burn as gingerly as she could. She felt his eyes studying her, but she stayed dutifully on task, wondering if he could feel the heat of her skin rise with such proximity. When she finished the bandage, she lifted her eyes to meet his. They were stilltired, but softer and grateful—and perhaps they held something more—but she knew it was best not to linger any longer.
“I should let you get some rest.” Ann moved back toward the door.
“Yes,” he said. His eyes darted to the side, as though something was on his mind. “Can you help me with one more task?”
“Of course,” she said. He shifted in his hammock, and with great effort pulled himself to standing with one hand.
“I don’t think I can remove my jacket by myself.”
His normal teasing bravado was gone, and he studied the ground.
“Oh, right.” Was that color on his cheeks? He turned away slightly and held out his arm. Ann was glad for it, because she too was blushing.
“I can’t believe I have to ask you for help with something so simple.”
“Please don’t feel that way.” Tugging on his coat sleeve, she worked quickly. “I am happy to help.”
When the entire jacket sleeve was loose, she gently guided the cut part over the wound and folded the jacket in half and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He took it in his good arm. His eyes lingered on hers. “I’ve taken care of myself for so long, it feels strange to have to rely on someone else, even for the simplest tasks.”
“I am happy to help.” She glanced at his bandaged arm, partially because it was a much safer place to look than his eyes.
“I didn’t think I would feel this way, but I am happy to have it.” He raised his good hand and brushed a bit of hair from her face. The touch of his fingers on her cheek sent raw emotion through her. Her pulse quickened, and she knew her skin went from blushing to burning.
“Please let me know if you need something else.” She turned slowly to the door.
His eyes met hers, and a smile snuck across his mouth. He glanced down at his arm. “I wouldn’t mind if you checked on my injury again.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Ignoring her inner flutterings, she crossed the enclosed area back to her own cabin. Yet like one of the very waves that threatened outside, her feelings washed over her, hitting her with palpable force. Though she had onlyknown him a few weeks, every moment with William Boyd increased how much she cared, how much she hoped to see him again. She didn’t know what, if anything, would come from their time together, but she knew she wanted to see him more.
Chapter 21
March 19, 1854
26 days at sea
Will woke to a surge of painas he tried to roll over in his hammock. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but it was clearly daytime, and it appeared—though abated—the storm still blew. Swinging his feet over the edge, he stood and realized he would have to forgo his jacket for the time being. Getting his wet clothes changed yesterday had been enough of a challenge, even after Ann had helped with his jacket. Pain had been shooting through his arm and fingers, and they hadn’t responded in normal ways.
That realization brought his thoughts back to Ann: her caring, sensible touch and her playful eyes. She’d been so kind to him, and though it was uncomfortable to need her assistance, he’d be lying to say her help hadn’t heightened his regard for her. She was beautiful, to be sure, but she was also thoughtful and genuine.
Qualities which, he reminded himself, he was objectively noticing, because nothing could come of their interactions together, at least while on this ship. And since he’d left the sick bay so quickly, he didn’t have an excuse to talk with her as much now that he’d assumed his normal duties.
