Through the Darkness Read online

  "You," the Captain hissed.

  "Me?" Tabitha asked worriedly.

  "No," the Captain growled, "the man."

  A tense hush fell over the occupants of the room, broken by Stew's stammered, "M-me?"

  "Yes, you…lay a finger on me, and I'll break your arm in five places." Despite any apparent fatigue and weakened condition, his voice dripped with suppressed violence.

  Elyria gulped down a swallow at the threat and took three steps back just in case objects went flying.

  "Pegleg?" He cried out, then his tone changed to one of relief, "Pegleg, is that you?"

  She froze, everyone in the room turned in unison to look at her, the weight of their stares heavy and uncomfortable. "Y-yes," she stammered, "I'm here."

  "Have her do it," he ordered, "she's the only one I want near me; she's the only one I'll trust."

  "But, she's-" Tabitha began to say, but Elyria placed a hand on her arm and shook her head. Please don't say that I'm blind, she silently pleaded.

  So many people already treated her like her lack of vision made her less than. But to the Captain, she was just as capable as any other person in the room.

  It would devastate her should he learn the truth and have it change his opinion of her.

  Tabitha, with doubt and resignation plain in her voice, quietly agreed, "Alright."

  Taking a steadying breath, Elyria squeezed Tabitha's arm in thanks and walked with her to the side of the bed.

  When she set a calming hand to the Captain's forehead, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. His fever had finally broken. Smoothing sweaty strands of hair off his brow, she smiled when his body slowly relaxed under her touch.

  Tabitha guided her in removing the soiled bandages and replacing them with fresh ones, all without a single peep of protest from Captain Rattlesnake.

  When she finished the job, Tabitha patted her on the shoulder and whispered, "Good work."

  Such simple praise, and yet it made the urge to weep hard to contain. Elyria chewed on her bottom lip and blinked until it subsided without a single tear falling.

  Stew muttered a few unintelligible words and fled the room, followed soon after by Tabitha setting the metal instruments on the tray with a clank. "I'll be back to check on you later," she said softly before leaving.

  The Captain let out a weary exhale and gripped Elyria's nearest hand. "You'll stay with me, won't you, Pegleg?"

  Her cheeks flushed with heat while she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at his request. Caressing his brow with her left hand, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze with her right, "Yes."

  "Good," He said softly, squeezing her hand in return.

  Hoping he hadn't tipped over the washbasin or chair during his outburst, she reached out to their usual location and smiled upon finding them both upright.

  "You realize," she murmured, taking a seat for fear her wobbly legs would give out. Dipping the cloth into the bowl, she wrung out the excess water and began mopping his brow. "Now that you've called me Pegleg in public, everyone will be wondering if I really do have a wooden leg and only use my walking stick to avoid suspicion."

  A tired chuckle escaped him.

  "I have a joke for you; care to hear it?"

  His lips bent into a smile, "Sure."

  She cleared her throat and brushed the cloth softly across his forehead. "How do you catch a polar bear?"

  "I don't know, how?"

  The cloth left his skin, followed by a brief hesitation before she said, "You cut a hole in the ice, place some peas around it; when he comes around to take a pea, you kick him in the ice hole."

  Everett choked on a laugh, not knowing what surprised and delighted him more—the fact she told such a joke, or that she'd delivered the punch line as though imparting a vital kernel of wisdom. "I'll have to remember that one. It's quite good."

  "It's one of my brother's favorites. When he was younger, he used to drive my parents mad reciting it any chance he got." She grew quiet and dipped the cloth back in the water. "You don't care for Stewart?"

  He let out a pained chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

  She smiled, returning the damp rag to his forehead, and cradled the left side of his face in her palm. "Subtle is not a word I associate with you, Captain Rattlesnake."

  "Can you blame me? He and oaf number two dropped me twice within the first three seconds of meeting me."

  She clucked her tongue and smoothed the cloth across his brow, "I wouldn't like him much either if I were in your position."

  "Well," he said in a drowsy slur, "I like you."

  A delicious warmth bloomed within her chest at his words, and she couldn't stop herself from admitting quietly, "I like you too."

  Seven

  Everett clenched his teeth against the jolt of pain searing up his body from his thigh while Tabitha changed his bandages for the second time that day.

  After three delirious weeks of torture, the infection had finally cleared, or so the imperious Nurse Winters decreed early this morning—as though he couldn't figure that out himself by the absence of molten lava coursing through his veins.

  Imbeciles, the lot of them.

  Bumbling imbeciles to be more exact, he silently amended. If he'd learned anything during his time here, it was that in all their training, the whole lot of the damn fools had never learned how to be gentle. Not when dealing with appendages with nerves that had been flayed wide open and screamed at the merest touch.

  The only person capable of soothing him remained to be Pegleg. But for some reason, she'd yet to make herself known today. He'd asked about her earlier, several times in fact, and to different people—at least he thought they were, being blind it became a bit difficult to know for sure—but they'd all rudely ignored him.

  So, he decided to give them the silent treatment in return. Juvenile behavior it may be, but it also proved to be somewhat useful.

  Those who tended to him approached him with caution, like a dangerous animal best kept at arm's length. Proof that Captain Rattlesnake had made a lasting impression.

  They carried out their duties of bathing him, changing bed linens, and dressing his wounds with quick and impartial efficiency; which should have filled him with satisfaction, but instead, it only made Pegleg's absence more noticeable.

  She'd been at his side every day since his arrival; which meant spending an entire day without her made today one of his worst. It surprised and worried him because, by mid-day, he realized his current misery stemmed from her absence.

  If he didn't know any better, he might almost believe he'd fallen for her.

  "All finished," Tabitha murmured, securing the last bandage. She pulled his blanket up to his waist and gathered her tray of supplies, "There's talk you'll be discharged shortly, perhaps within the next week or two."

  That got his attention, but he didn't want her to know that. He grunted. Let her figure out what he meant by it.

  "You're on the mend," she said with a smile in her voice. She paused for a moment before continuing, "I thought you'd be pleased."

  He thought he would be too. "I am."

  "Your family must be eager to have you home safe and sound."

  Everett muttered a curse and clenched his hand into a tight fist. Her constant positivity in the face of his bad mood only served to irritate him further. "Oh yes, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have me back again, now that I'm blind and crippled."

  The tray clattered as she leaned forward, her hand resting lightly upon his bare shoulder. "Captain…sometimes we are only crippled if we allow ourselves to be." Without another word, she left.

  Everett grumbled under his breath, unsure why her parting words raised his hackles. Before the war, he might have said something along the same lines. He used to believe a person was solely in charge of who or what they became in life—regardless of how or perhaps most importantly, who raised them.

  He had even been a prime example of such theories, his first thirteen years liv
ing with his father were anything but ideal.

  But he was older now, wiser to the real workings of life. He no longer viewed the world in such a simple, idealistic way. War, no doubt, had that effect on people.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, he forced his hand to relax and strained his ears for any sound of Pegleg. But a little while later, instead of finding her distinct tap tap tap, only a confident light step, he couldn't put a name to entered his room.

  "Oh my," an unfamiliar woman said. "Even with those bandages over your eyes, you have the look of a thundercloud about you." She had a kind voice full of good humor, the sort of person who could instantly put others at ease.

  In his current state, it only served to irritate him. "Who are you?" He growled, not even caring that he sounded rude. "What do you want?"

  "Goodness, she was right," the woman chuckled softly, walking toward his bed. "I'm Daphne, a friend of Elyria's."

  "Who?"

  Daphne tsk-tsked and sat in the chair beside him, saying softly, "I believe you call her Pegleg."

  Everett grunted. "She told you."

  "She tells me everything."

  He sighed, unsure if it was good or bad that Pegleg talked about him with her friend. "Why isn't she here?"

  "Because she's attending to a family matter today."

  Whatever that meant it couldn't possibly be a good family matter. A gravity to her voice made him wonder what she kept from him. But it wasn't his place to delve into the issue further.

  He was the interloper where Pegleg was concerned, not Daphne. They were friends—he remained merely a patient, and when he left here, there'd be a good chance she wouldn't even remember him.

  "Why are you here?" He asked, hating that he couldn't hide the dejection from his voice. "Did Nurse Winters send you to make sure I'm behaving myself?"

  Daphne held silent for a moment before softly saying, "No. Elyria asked me to see that her friend was being taken care of, so I thought I'd pop in before I head home for the day."

  He grunted, not sure he believed her or not. "Friend?"

  "She doesn't have many," Daphne said, causing the chair to creak when she stood. "So, believe me when I tell you she doesn't use the word lightly." Her cool fingers caressed his brow, "Do you need anything before I leave?"

  Everett swallowed and shook his head, unable to speak around the lump of emotion clogging his throat.

  She patted his shoulder gently and straightened his blankets at his waist, "Then goodnight, Captain Rattlesnake. I hope you sleep well."

  Eight

  Elyria took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, clenching her teeth against the wave of emotion that threatened to reduce her to a weeping mess right there outside the hospital.

  Both mother and father had questioned whether returning to the hospital today proved wise after only a week. She ought to have remained home with them another day, they said, mourning the loss of her brother Stephen. And for a moment, she'd wavered in her decision.

  But in the end, she'd found herself walking out the front door with only one destination, one person for that matter, in mind.

  Upon entering the building, she feared she would have to face heavy stares or even awkward hugs and words of condolences. But instead, life carried on as usual and, for the most part, they ignored her like before.

  After depositing her hat, coat, and gloves in her little cubby in the staff cloakroom, she made her way down the long corridor leading to the Captain.

  Had he missed her? Would it even be fair to hope that he did?

  Her heart already beat at a furious pace, but it threatened to jump out of her chest when she turned down his hallway.

  "DON'T touch me," he barked, his voice strained, "I can do it on my own."

  "And fall flat on your face again? I think not," Tabitha said, sounding frazzled.

  "If you hadn't been standing in my way," he said in a condescending tone, "I wouldn't have fallen."

  Tabitha let out an unladylike growl before saying through clenched teeth, "You are infuriating."

  "Then get out of here!" He snapped, "Leave me alone."

  "Suit yourself," Tabitha said in a huff. "Nurse Winters will hear of this."

  "She doesn't scare me!"

  "Well, she ought to!"

  Elyria froze where she stood. Heavens, what was she about to walk in to? She waited until the sound of Tabitha's footsteps receded in the opposite direction before crossing the remaining distance to the Captain's room.

  She'd taken only one step through the door when a loud crash several feet ahead shook the floor beneath her and reverberated up through the walls.

  "DAMN THIS INFERNAL LEG," The Captain shouted, throwing something across the room--a piece of wood by the sound of it when it smacked into the wall at her right before falling to the floor with a clatter.

  He spewed several curses, many of which she'd never heard before.

  "Your command of the English language is quite inventive, Captain."

  "I was speaking French," he grumbled from the floor. "Where have you been?"

  She barked a laugh and shook her head. "I may have only taken one course of French years ago, but even I know that is a bald-faced lie…I was at home," She answered frowning. Had he fallen out of bed? "What are you doing on the floor?"

  "I'm playing a game of jacks, care to join?"

  Oh dear, he was in a mood. "Would you like some help back to bed, or do you wish to remain where you are?"

  The most sullen kind of silence filled the room. Elyria didn't know if she wanted to deal with this sort of behavior from him today. Perhaps Mother and Father were right; she should have stayed home.

  "I need my cane," he muttered, sounding more like a petulant child than a grown man.

  Elyria let out a slow breath and said, "Well, then use it."

  "I can't."

  She counted to ten. "Why not?"

  Silence, and then, "Because I threw it over there."

  So that's what that sound had been?

  "Where?" She turned this way and that as if she could miraculously make her eyes work at that exact moment.

  "I don't know," he ground out, "I'm blind, remember."

  So am I, you idiot! She wanted to scream. "Let me go find someone to help you. I'll be right back."

  "NO!" He cried out with panic threading his voice. "Don't leave…you're the only one I trust."

  She chewed on her bottom lip, torn over what she ought to do. There was no denying that she was not the best person to handle the current situation, regardless of his protestations.

  But somehow, instead of leaving in search of help, she found herself muttering a curse and getting on hands and knees, hunting along the floor to her right until she found his cane. "Found it."

  "I'm overjoyed."

  She scoffed, "Liar."

  Now she needed to find him—without kicking or stepping on him—and then somehow get him back to bed. Easy peasy, just like Daphne used to be fond of saying when they found themselves in ridiculous situations that were anything but.

  Elyria swallowed hard and decided to crawl over to him; it would be safer for both of them that way. And with any luck, no one would walk in while they were crawling on the floor like infants.

  "What are you doing out of bed anyway?" She asked, needing to keep him talking so she could locate him faster.

  "Battle-ax Winters gave me the cane and told me to try walking. Since I've been doing it rather well over the past two decades of my life, I didn't think it would be all that difficult."

  Elyria bit back a smile. "It didn't go as planned I take it?"

  "No."

  She wanted to whoop for joy when she found his foot but refrained. "There you are."

  "Right where I've been all along. Where did you think I was?"

  "Goodness, you are sulky today. Perhaps I shall leave you and return once you've had a good think on your current attitude."

  He grunted, pushing himself up into a sitting position and bumping
her as he did so. "Can you blame me?"

  No, she couldn't. Heaven knew she'd done her fair share of sulking when she'd been in a similar position. But her parents hadn't tolerated such destructive behavior, and neither would she. "Here you go," she murmured, offering him his cane, "reach out your hand." Once he had it firmly in his grasp, she made it to her feet.

  "Show off."

  She smiled. "Can you stand?"

  Nine

  Could he stand? Hadn't he just proved that he and gravity weren't on the best of terms at the moment?

  Gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain in his thigh, Everett rolled from his butt onto his left knee, planted his left foot, and used his cane to help him stand. There. He'd done it. Now what?

  He wobbled and feared he'd pass out, but suddenly Pegleg's hands were at his waist, holding him steady.

  The wave of dizziness passed, leaving him intensely aware of how close they were. His heart kicked up a notch, and his senses became hyperaware of Pegleg's scent—soft notes of vanilla and roses that made him yearn to bring her closer and press his mouth to hers. Would her lips taste as good as she smelled?

  His breath caught in his throat, shocked at the thought. An unexpected thrill shot through him and filled his mouth with moisture. But the desire only grew and caused a peculiar ache he worried would only be eased by holding her.

  She stood taller than he'd thought she'd be, that much became apparent by the hairs at the top of her head tickling his chin.

  "Steady…" she murmured, her breath fanned against the bare skin of his throat and caused a delicious shiver. "Do you know where your bed is from here?"

  He didn't have a clue. In his current state, she could have asked him if he had a middle name and he would have drawn a blank. "Somewhere…over there, I think."

  She sighed.

  Everett gave himself a mental shake and bit back a chuckle. "I missed you. Where did you go?"

  "I told you—at home."

  There it was again, the tone that said her world was crumbling down despite any words she used to the contrary.

  Despair. He knew the emotion all too well. The overwhelming desire to say or do something that would offer her comfort took hold, settling in his gut like a lead weight. Daphne had said Pegleg called him a friend and wasn't that something friends did for one another?