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“I can feed myself,” Percy mumbled.
“I know. But let me look after you,” Albie said gently. “I looked after you all night. I don’t intend on stopping now.” He met Percy’s eyes. “Or ever. I will always look after you.”
Percy smiled shyly, and took the mouthful of porridge. Then he closed his eyes, letting his head rest on the headboard. Albie could see the bump at his temple was less swollen, but it now had more colour.
“You took a knock to the head,” Albie said. “Must have been when you went down the ledge.”
Percy opened his eyes, focused on Albie. “I don’t remember much. Just parts.”
Albie traced his fingers over Percy’s wrist where the rope burns still showed. Percy looked at them as if he was seeing them for the first time. “Oh.”
“Do they hurt?”
“No.”
Albie offered him more porridge, and he ate half the bowl before refusing anymore. He sipped his tea but he’d had enough, and Albie didn’t want to push him.
Percy settled back down in the bed. “Tired. But I feel better, thank you.”
“Clara washed your clothes,” Albie said. “And dried them by the fire. I’ll bring them in. But you can rest all day. Sleep as you need to.”
Percy looked too tired to argue.
Albie left him to sleep, doing some morning chores before he sat down to breakfast with the others. He told them Percy had eaten a little, but he was still tired and their concern for him was a comfort Albie wasn’t sure he even knew he needed.
Before their plates were even cleared away, the barking dogs alerted them to another visitor. Albie went out onto the veranda to see the doctor riding in.
“Mr McAllister asked me to do a house call,” he declared before getting off his horse. Then he slid down and took off his gloves. “I only arrived up here after dark last night. I’d have come sooner but for the late hour.”
Albie greeted him with a shake of his hand. “Thank you for coming now. Have you had breakfast?”
He smiled warmly at Albie. “I have. Mrs McAllister insisted. But thank you, young Albie. You’ve grown two feet since I saw you last. Very sorry to hear about your father.”
The reminder hit Albie hard and unexpected, the way grief often did. “Thank you,” he managed. Then he gestured to the front door. “The patient is this way.”
The doctor grabbed his bag and followed Albie inside.
“He was sleeping when I left him this morning,” Albie explained, standing at the closed bedroom door. “He did manage to eat something this morning, though he took ill last night, vomiting, and he was confused and sleepy.”
The doctor gave a serious nod. “Very well. Let us see him.”
Percy was asleep, though he woke when they walked in. He seemed startled, pulling the blankets up as if he’d been caught in a bed he shouldn’t have been in.
“Percy,” Albie said gently. “This is Doctor Dawson. He’s here to check on you.” Then Albie turned to the doctor. “I put him in this room to keep an eye on him, if you were wondering.”
That was more for Percy’s peace of mind, but the doctor didn’t seem to even notice. “Right then, give us a few minutes privacy please, Albie?”
Albie left them, closing the door quietly and he found Elsie and Clara in the kitchen. “He’s checking him over,” Albie said.
Elsie put a comforting hand on his arm. “Percy’ll be fine. He’s a tough one.”
But then a few minutes became a few minutes more, and Albie couldn’t stand it. “I’ll be outside, doing... something. Anything.”
He checked on the new pig pen and gave the new piglets fresh hay in their bed stall, and when he was on his way back to the stable, he saw Elsie walk the doctor out. He rushed over, and Elsie quickly went back inside.
“How is he?” Albie asked.
Doctor Dawson met his gaze, but he smiled. And smiling had to be a good sign, right?
