“Pneumonia.”
She nodded. “As a young girl, my father became ill with that. It was a rocky two weeks, but he eventually recovered.”
“My maternal grandmother became sick with it, and after a week, it took her life.” He reached out and stroked Maxey’s hair.
“Don’t worry, Nash. That won’t happen to me. I’m strong.”
“No, you are not, but you are stubborn.”
Snuggling into the blankets, she closed her eyes. “I’m so tired, and I ache all over.”
“Then sleep.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
Fevered eyes opened and met his gaze, then she smiled. The impulsive sensation to kiss her lips became strong, but he resisted. She was still too ill, plus he couldn’t break her heart again.
“I thank you for helping me,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
He waited until her breathing became even and her lips fluttered with each exhalation before he moved to the table and ate his meal. He really wasn’t hungry, but he needed to keep up his strength, especially for the days ahead. This illness would get worse before getting better, and he wasn’t looking forward to that.
*
Maxey awoke inthe middle of the night, heated moisture sopping her gown. At the same time, an icy coldness penetrated every bone in her body. Nash lay beside her with his back turned, so she curled up behind him to feel his warmth. The moment she wrapped her arms around his middle, he jumped and turned.
“Maxey?” he said groggily.
“Nash, I’m—I’m—so cold.”
He gathered her in his arms, and she pressed her face against his bare chest.
“Oh God, no! Maxey, you are as hot as fire.”
“I’m not hot. Just cold.” Her body shook.
He mumbled a few words as he moved off the bed.
“Nash?” She reached for him.
“Maxey, I have to fetch the doctor. Your fever is out of control, and we need to bring it down.”
“No, Nash.”
After pulling on his shirt, he knelt on the bed and took her in his arms. “I will be right back,” he told her in a tight voice, then kissed her forehead.
Maxey curled in her blankets but remained still. Invisible knives stabbed her everywhere, and her body ached. She sobbed from the sheer torture it brought. It even hurt to breathe.
Slowly, a cloud filled her mind, and she saw a peaceful place, a place where no pain could reach her. Emotionally, she grasped for that haven, hoping to escape her sickness.
*
Nash rushed throughthe hallways and found the doctor’s door. He pounded frantically until the older man opened it.
“Doctor.” Nash breathed heavily. “Her fever is very high.”
The doctor quickly slipped on his robe and ran with Nash back to the room. When they entered, Nash noticed something different. Maxey lay still as death. He inhaled sharply and ran to her.
“Maxey?” he shouted, shaking her. “Maxey!”
The doctor pushed him aside. “Let me look at her. Go fetch a porter and have him bring buckets of cold water.”
