Page 56 of Memories Made At Midnight

If anyone approached, the birds falling silent and the red squirrels’ kuk-kuk-kuk would sound the alarm.

Layton had already opened the shutters covering the cottage’s two windows, but for good measure, Cassius propped the door open with a rock. He’d be damned if he’d sit inside with the windows covered and the door bolted like a convict in an underground cell.

Sighing, he retreated inside and directed his attention to Beatrice.

Even though she couldn’t hear him, he spoke to her.

“I have to remove your gown, Beatrice, but I’ll leave your shift on.”

He kneeled at her side and laid the back of his hand against her fevered forehead. She burned with the illness that assailed her.

“You have a fever, and I must try to get your temperature down.” In his many musings about Beatrice, Cassius never dreamed he’d play nursemaid to this beautiful woman. “I promise I shan’t look upon you any more than absolutely necessary.”

As he set to unfastening the gown’s remaining buttons, he explained what he intended. “I’ll wipe you with a cool cloth when I’ve finished. It should help make you more comfortable.”

Nala lifted her head, staring at him with soulful eyes before once more resting her muzzle on her great paws. She heaved a forlorn sigh.

Cassius paused in his ministrations of Beatrice to run a hand down the boarhound’s back and to scratch behind Teddy’s ears.

“I know you’re worried.” He slid Beatrice a sidelong glance, drawing his eyebrows together in disquiet. “I am too.”

Shouldn’t she have roused by now?

It was hard to know if she was deeply asleep, her body fighting whatever sickness afflicted her, or if she was unconscious.

As he slid the gown down her hips and past her shapely legs, he forbade the artist in him to stare in appreciation at her well-shaped thighs and calves, strong and supple from daily walks, no doubt. After all, he’d just promised her he wouldn’t ogle her.

Stirring slightly, she moaned softly before a harsh cough shook her.

Worry clawing at his ribs, Cassius tossed the gown onto the table before hastily dipping a cloth in the bucket of cool water. After wringing the rag out, he gently ran the damp cloth over her face, neck, and shoulders, and then down her legs.

“Beatrice? Can you hear me?”

She didn’t respond, but her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

He glanced at Nala, and an idea took root. He pointed to the door. “Guard.”

To his immense satisfaction, the large hound promptly rose and walked to the entrance where she lay across the threshold, facing outward, ever vigilant. Not only could she hear far better than he could, but dogs’ sense of smell was vastly superior to humans.

The remaining horse snorted, the sound filtering inside the small structure as a few valiant rays of sun poked through the overhead canopy and timidly ventured inside through the open window casings.

After soaking the cloth in the little remaining water in the bucket, Cassius wrung it out and laid it tenderly across Beatrice’s forehead. He rose, clasping the bucket as he did.

Teddy stood, wagging his tail as he looked between Cassius and Beatrice.

“Don’t worry, little fellow. I’m just fetching more water.”

He needed to feed the dogs too, but they were down to a few pieces of bread, a hunk of cheese, and two apples. Not exactly a feast.

If Beatrice wasn’t so ill, he might try to set a snare or catch fish, but he dared not leave her alone for any length of time.

He tucked Layton’s knife into his belt. In these circumstances, wisdom decreed caution.

Nala sat up as he approached the door.

Cassius stepped through and then turned back. “Guard.”

At once, she resumed her diligent stance.