Page 62 of Winterset

Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. She had to be strong for Kit, she reminded herself. She could not give way to weakness. Reed was not with her. He would never be with her. She had lived the great majority of her life without him; she could live the rest of it the same way.

Keeping a stern grip on her emotions, she sat through the rest of the ride home, holding the makeshift bandage against her brother’s head and refusing to think of anything but the hope that Kit would soon wake up.

The house was brightly lit when they reached it, and as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the door, it opened and the butler and several other servants hurried out. Anna climbed down out of the carriage and held up her hand, forestalling any questions.

“Kit is hurt. I don’t know what happened, but he has a head injury, and he’s unconscious. Take him up to his bed, and we’ll clean the wound and wait for the doctor.”

Shock stamped the faces of the servants, but they hurried to do as Anna had told them. As they carefully lifted Kit out of the carriage and carried him toward the house, there was the sound of hoofbeats. Anna swung around, a crazy hope swelling inside her.

A horse and rider thundered up to the house from the east, moving much faster than was safe in the dim light. He had obviously come the faster route through the fields instead of along the road. He pulled to a stop and jumped down from his horse, his long strides eating up the ground between him and Anna.

“Reed!” Something inside Anna snapped, and she flung herself against him, heedless of all the watching eyes of the servants. His arms went tightly around her, holding her to his chest.

“Anna! What’s happened?”

She could not answer. The fear she had been holding in check swamped her now, and she burst into tears. She clung to him, crying, and Reed smoothed his hand down her back, murmuring to her comfortingly. Over her head, he watched the servants carry the limp form of her brother into the house, and he tightened his hold on Anna.

Gradually Anna’s arms loosened a little around his waist. She stood for a moment longer, listening to the reassuring thud of his heart beneath her ear, her tears drying. She thought of the servants watching and knew that there would soon be a wealth of gossip in the servants’ quarters, but at the moment she could not bring herself to care.

Finally she stepped back, wiping her tears from her cheeks with her hands.

“Here.” Reed pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed away the moisture.

Anna gave him a trembling smile. “Thank you.” She glanced back at the front door. “I—I must go to Kit.”

“Of course.” Reed took her arm, and they started for the door.

“How did you—how did you know?” Anna asked, looking up at him. “I mean, what are you doing here? It must be near midnight.”

“I had a dream,” he replied. “I think. I was in my study, reading, and I—I suppose I had begun to drift off. And then I heard you call my name. It was so clear, so real. I don’t know how, but I was certain that you needed me. So I had my horse saddled, and—well, here I am.”

Anna thought of the way she had cried out to him in her mind, of how everything inside her had yearned for him to be with her. She had needed him. And, somehow, it did not even seem strange now that he had known.

They walked through the house and up the stairs to Kit’s room. The servants had laid him down on the bed, and removed his jacket and boots. There was a bowl of water on a table beside the bed, and it was pink with diluted blood. Kit’s valet was cleaning the wound on Kit’s head with a washcloth, and he turned as they entered the room.

“Miss Anna.”

“Thompkins. How does it look?”

“There was a lot of blood, but I’ve cleaned most of it off, and I don’t think the wound itself is very big.”

“What happened?” Reed asked.

“I don’t know,” Anna replied. She leaned over her brother, bending down to inspect the wound. Behind her, Reed picked up an oil lamp and held it closer so that she could see.

She let out a little side of relief. “It looks as though he’s been hit on the head, doesn’t it? I don’t think it’s a bullet wound, do you?”

“No,” Reed agreed. He set the lamp down and pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. “Here. Sit down. Is the doctor on his way?”

“Yes. Cooper went to get him.”

Reed turned to the valet. “Why don’t you go down and bring us a pot of tea? I’m sure Miss Holcomb could use a cup, and the doctor will doubtless appreciate one, too, when he arrives.”

Anna thought that she should not let Reed give her servants orders, but at that moment she was too tired to care. Once she had seen Kit’s wound, all her energy had seemed to leave in a rush. She leaned forward, taking Kit’s hand in one of hers and propping her head against her other arm on the bed.

As soon as the valet left, Reed squatted down beside her, looking into her face. “Now. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I had a…a feeling, the sort I told you about, like the one I had that day in the woods. Somehow I just knew that Kit was in trouble.”