Page 78 of Fairest of Heart

Please, God. Please.

Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his face. He did nothing to stop them.

“I’m here, Pen. And I’m not going anywhere. I just need you to wake up for me, all right? You can do it. I know you can.” His voice clogged on emotion. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Shuffling sounds accompanied by thumps and grunts echoed around him as the men of the Diamond D flooded into the room. They circled the bed, not saying a word. They just watched. Waited.

Doc shuffled in last, fitting his stethoscope to his ears as he came. Sorrow deepened the creases on his face. “Has she—”

“She squeezed my hand,” Titus blurted. “Twice. And her lashes fluttered.”

Doc’s brows shot upward. He scurried to the bed and pushed against Titus’s shoulder. “Move, boy. Let me examine her.”

Titus rose, taking care to keep his hold on Penelope’s hand. She squeezed it again, as if she’d felt the shift and worried he was letting her go.

Not a chance.

“I’m here, Pen.” He made room for Doc, moving closer to the head of the bed. “Right here.” He brushed his hand over her hair as Doc positioned the stethoscope over her heart. “We’re all here. Open your eyes, and see for yourself.”

Her lashes fluttered again. Titus held his breath. Her lids twitched, then slowly . . . torturously . . . lifted to reveal the most beautiful gray eyes the Lord had ever created.

“Titus?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible as she twisted her face toward him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Euphoria swept through him with such force, it made him light-headed. She anchored him, though. Her hand in his. Her eyes locked on his face.

A tiny smile touched her lips, and his heart turned a somersault in his chest.

“I’m not ready to go yet.”

Thank God.

33

Titus didn’t leave Penelope’s side the rest of the night. Not that there was much left of it. He’d barely drifted off, slouching in the hard, wooden chair by her bed, when sunlight crept around the curtain edges to wake him.

His eyelids scraped like sandpaper as he pried them open, but he pushed through the grit, determined to check on Penelope. Her slumber seemed more natural now. Deep breaths. A touch of color in her cheeks. She’d even rolled over onto her side sometime since he’d started dozing. Her arm lay stretched across the pillow as if she’d reached for him during the night.

Titus grinned. He rather liked the idea of her reaching for him. Heaven knew he wanted to reach for her nearly every time he saw her now. Only fair for the impulse to work both ways.

Careful not to wake her, he bent forward and bussed a kiss onto the top of her head. She didn’t stir, but her lips curved slightly, sending of a twinge of tenderness through his chest.

He stood the rest of the way and stretched the crick out of his neck. Before the men had dispersed to their own beds a couple of hours ago, Doc had assured them that Penelope was out of danger. It might take her a few days to regain her strength, but she no longer teetered on the rim of death’s canyon. God had brought her back from the brink.

Needing to work out a few more kinks, Titus sauntered over to the washstand and poured a few inches of water from the ewer into the basin. He splashed the cool liquid over his face, hoping to dispel the weariness and worry that clung to him like the sweat-laced, days-old clothes he wore. Eyes closed, he grabbed for the towel hanging on the washstand bar, then patted his face dry. The water might have refreshed him a little, but he really needed a full bath and a change of clothes. He eyed his haggard reflection in the small mirror above the basin and rubbed at the bristles darkening his jaw. Could use a shave, too. A man should look his best when his lady awoke from a near-fatal nap.

Hearing a soft clatter coming from the other side of the bedroom wall, Titus deduced that Coy or one of the other Diamond D men was up and puttering around in the kitchen. Maybe the fellow could be persuaded to sit with Penelope while Titus slipped out to the barn for a change of clothes. Even though she was out of danger, he didn’t want her to wake up alone. She might be confused or frightened.

He padded back over to the bed, sat down in the chair, and shoved his stockinged feet back into his boots.

“I’m gonna step out for a few minutes to get cleaned up,” he whispered as he brushed an errant strand of dark hair from her face. “Don’t go waking up until I get back, all right?” His lips met her forehead for a pair of heartbeats before he pulled away and headed for the door.

Instead of Coy, Titus found Jeb in the kitchen.

Jeb glanced up from cranking the coffee grinder, his perpetual scowl in its usual place as he met Titus’s gaze. “How’s our girl?”

“Still sleeping.” Titus crossed to the table and leaned his hip against the rounded edge. “Kinda what I expected you to be doin’ after the rough couple days you had.”

Jeb quit cranking the grinder. “I slept too much already.” He wagged his head and let out a grunt of disgust. “Can’t believe I let that woman get the drop on me. I told her to leave. Said we didn’t want none of her cider. But Angus and Ike insisted on bein’ neighborly. And Miss Penny and her soft heart were no help. Still, I shoulda known somethin’ weren’t right. Should never have drunk that stupid brew.” He lifted his chin, his eyes glistening with regret. “Doc trusted me, and I let him down. Let that sweet girl down, too. That kind of failure don’t let a man rest easy, you know?”