wall. Joe took her gently by the shoulders and turned her around again. When she closed her eyes wearily, he pried them open with his fingers, to reassure himself that they hadn’t started to settle back in her eye sockets just yet.
“Go away,” she whispered, her voice a croak.
“Not a chance, Susanna,” he said, his voice full of command. “Put your arms around my neck.”
To her credit, she tried, but she was too weak. He scooped her up anyway, standing still a moment to steady himself. He realized with a pang that she barely weighed anything.
Emily stood at the bottom of the stairs, crying. Joe watched her a moment. She started to twist her hands, as though trying to clean them of something—responsibility, remorse. He didn’t know, and he suddenly didn’t care.
“Mrs. Reese, you’re useless,” he snapped as he carried Susanna out the open door.
Joe stopped on the porch, wondering what to do. He couldn’t take her to the hospital, because his one small ward was occupied with soldiers. He thought about the Rattigans, and knew she would be welcome there, but he didn’t relish carrying her across the parade ground under everyone’s prying eyes. There was only one place for her, and the odd humor of the situation took over.
“Susanna, I’m going to ruin your reputation and take you to my quarters,” he told her as he hurried along the icy sidewalk. “But you have no reputation to ruin, and neither do I. Any objections?”
She had none. In fact, her eyes were closed in exhaustion.
“I thought not.”
He set her in his armchair, the old thing that M’liss had threatened not to take along, on their last journey together. Without a word, he covered Susanna with a blanket, felt her forehead and then hurried to his dependents’ clinic across the hall.
Susanna offered no protest when he unbuttoned her shirtwaist, pulled aside her chemise and pressed his stethoscope at her heart. Her heartbeat was slow and steady, which reassured him. Her pulse was a little too slow to please him, but at least it wasn’t thready. He had felt worse.
“Thirsty or hungry?” he asked, his voice gentle. The last thing Susanna Hopkins needed was one more bully in her life.
“Let me die,” she said finally.
He shook his head. When he spoke, his words were so cheerful that he even surprised himself. “Sorry. You can’t do that on my watch. It’s not allowed.”
“I am tired of being told what to do.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute, but it’s too bad. I’ll get you some milk. When you finish that, I’ll have my warmed-up oatmeal for you.”
“You’re not listening,” she said, clearly irritated.
“I never do when my patients talk twaddle,” he assured her. “Susanna, you are going to live and thrive.” He leaned closer until his lips brushed her ear. “I’m surprised someone as bright as you never learned that living well is the best revenge.”
He left her there, angry at him, and spent enough minutes in the kitchen to produce warmed milk, courtesy of Gale Borden, and some thinned oatmeal, well sugared.
“I’m no cook,” he told her when he returned, happy enough to see that she hadn’t bolted from his quarters. But where could she go? He handed her the mug of warm milk, holding his breath. He let it out slowly when she drank it down without a pause.
She took the oatmeal from him with no comment, spooning it down. She handed back the empty bowl and shook her head when he offered more. It took her another moment, but she finally looked him in the eyes.
“After two days, I wasn’t really hungry.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “It was easier not to face anyone.” She put her hand on his arm and he felt her tremor. “All I wanted was to start over.”
“I know,” he said, covering her hand with his own. “You’re not asking for the moon. Shall we try again?”
“Not here.”
“Yes, here.”
He was acutely aware that she was a single woman in a single man’s quarters, even though he was a physician. For all he knew, word of what had just happened had spread all over the gossip-prone garrison, where so little happened that even the smallest deviation would be talked about for weeks. This was no small deviation. But, as he had pointed out earlier, she had no reputation to worry about.
He stood up, ready for action, even if it did embarrass her. “I am going to draw a bath for you in my kitchen. You