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* * *

"Will you not leave me with one ounce of dignity, woman?" Nicholas yelled at her.

Jaci couldn't believe he wasn't at all happy with her diagnosis. "I believe you have bruised nerves, and they're beginning to heal. That's why you feel the need to go to the toilet."

Dead silence greeted her statement. Then, in a deadly soft voice, Nicholas ground out, "I hate you; get out."

His words effectively doused her spirits, for though he had yelled at her before, it never had quite the effect of his soft-spoken words. The glass of water she had poured slid from her shaking fingers and shattered on the floor.

"You don't mean that," she whispered.

"Of course I mean it. Now quit hovering over me and leave."

She looked deep into stormy eyes no longer glazed with fever. She wasn't at all sure she saw hate, but she did recognize fear and desperation. Even so, his words tore at her heart and with a cry, she turned and fled.

"Nicholas, that's certainly no way to talk to a lady," Thomas accused as he entered the bedroom. She couldn't greet the doctor, but instead turned her head to the side as she brushed past him on the way out the door.

Thomas found her later, after his examination of Nicholas. She had curled up in the window seat in the parlor, still crying her eyes out.

"I can take you to town, if you wish. You can stay with me." His invitation was issued quietly, and it took her a moment to realize exactly what he meant. She gave him a watery smile as he stood uncertain in the middle of the room.

She slowly shook her head. "I can't leave him, though I thank you very much."

Thomas frowned, his fair features such a contrast to Nicholas's dark looks. There was much to be admired in both men, but she feared her heart belonged to only one.

"You would rather stay here while he rants and raves and curses at you?" The good doctor's brows came together over piercing eyes, but something in his voice made her reconsider what she thought were his motives.

"Does he mean it? I mean, about hating me?" She almost choked on the words, recalling the anguish in Nicholas's voice at the time.

Thomas came over to the window seat and sat, taking one of her hands in his large, warm ones. "Right now, Nicholas hates everything about his world. He dislikes you and me because we can walk, and he hates himself because he can't."

"But that's so unfair. I love him." She flung herself into his arms, comforted by the strength she felt there. How easily it had been to come to depend on others in this world.

Thomas's smile was gentle as he set her from him. "I thought as much, and am happy for Nicholas. It might be the one thing that can make him want to live again. Right now, he doesn't consider himself a man."

She shook her head. "What do you mean? Because he can't walk doesn't make him less of a man." Jaci knew many handicapped individuals, and while a few remained hostile to the rest of the world, most lived productive lives.

"It's more than walking, though that is a very large part of it. It's..." Thomas shifted his gaze.

"Do you mean 'bodily functions?'" She mimicked Selkirk's voice. In the midst of chaos, all these very proper men couldn't speak of such things. In other circumstances, she would have laughed. "Selkirk told me about that and I think it's a good sign. If he feels the urge to do that, he may soon feel sensations all down his legs."

"You may be right on that note, and we should hope for the best. Still, there are other things to consider."

She looked at the doctor, this man who no doubt had seen everything there was to see on both man and woman. He wouldn't meet her gaze. "Are you talking about sex?"

Thomas blushed clear to his sandy eyebrows. This time, she did laugh; she couldn't help it.

"Haven't you ever delivered a baby, Doctor?"

"Of course I have."

"Well, sex is what created babies in the first place. I see nothing embarrassing about two people consummating their love for each other." She paused. "Are you saying you don't think Nicholas can make love?"

Thomas had to clear his throat before he answered. When he looked at her, she saw deep humor in the twinkle of his eyes. "You have quite a unique outlook and I think Nicholas is very fortunate to have found you. I sincerely hope he doesn't throw it all away. If anyone can make him feel like a man again, in any or all ways, I believe it will be you." He bent near and kissed her cheek, and she knew how fortunate both she and Nicholas were to have him as a friend.

* * *

As soon as breakfast was over the next day, Jaci summoned Mackey and Selkirk to the study where she explained her plan.

Mackey shook his head. "I don't know, miss. I dare say he'll steam real good if you do that."

"Mackey, he's
steaming
now. What difference will it make? Besides, look at the view from this window." She scurried over to the drapes and threw them wide. "He can wake up to the sun shining in the window and see his horses from his bed. What could be better?"

She turned to face the men, firm in her conviction. "Nicholas needs to be with people. He cannot remain upstairs shut away any longer; nor will I allow him to do so. Spring will be here in another month and I know it will make a difference." At the continued reluctance she saw on the men's faces, she added the coup d'état. "You put me in charge; now you will reap the benefits of that decision. I expect the changes to be made by the end of the day."

Though the feeling of power made her head light, her stomach twisted nervously as the morning slid by. She deliberately stayed upstairs with Amanda most of the afternoon, trying to get the child to study. Eventually, they both gave up. Here was yet another reason Nicholas had to get well.

Amanda refused to learn her lessons, and Mackey said she hadn't been to the stables much since the accident. Every time Jaci helped her dress, it seemed her little shifts hung looser on her shoulders. As far as Jaci knew, Nicholas still hadn't seen Amanda. Well, all that was about to change.

Jaci had dreamed about the accident again last night. Each time that happened, the revelation came to her that Nicholas had crossed the century to show up in her photographs. To her, that meant something, and she refused to give up on him.

She prepared a special tray for him that night, telling Delta she would take it up herself. Selkirk and Mackey were the only people who knew the plan, and she wanted to leave it at that. She didn't want anyone else getting into trouble, and she had no doubt there would be some.

Nicholas scowled at her when she came into his bedroom. The lamps had already been lit and the drapes drawn, even though there was about an hour of daylight left. Smiling sweetly, she set the tray on Nicholas's lap and stuffed another pillow behind his back.

She didn't comment on the darkness, or the fact that he apparently hadn't let Selkirk shave him today. Since the accident, more often than not he would let his beard grow for days at a time before either he or Selkirk would shave it. Jaci frowned, but said nothing, leaving him to eat in solitude.

She didn't venture back for two hours, and when she entered the room this time, she immediately rang for the servants. The dinner tray had fallen to the floor, the dishes scattered from the impact. Nicholas lay sideways on the bed, still as a post.

Selkirk appeared by her side. "You didn't do him in, did you, miss?" His voice sounded quite shaky.

"No, of course not." Even so, Jaci reached out to check for Nicholas's pulse. He hadn't moved a muscle, and she really did hope she hadn't given him too much of the sleeping draught Thomas had originally left. "The drug will make him sleep soundly, so he won't argue with us when we move him. By the time he wakes up, he'll be in his new room downstairs. What can he do? Climb out of bed and walk back up here?"

The butler gasped, and she supposed her dark humor didn't set well. When Mackey entered, the two men hoisted Nicholas up and carried him downstairs to the study-turned-bedroom.

She dismissed the men once they had Nicholas comfortably tucked into bed. She opened the drapes and allowed the moonlight to filter through the glass. The night was clear and she saw a horse or two in the paddock. Because she knew he couldn't hear her, except perhaps in his deepest subconscious mind, she spoke from her heart.

"Nicholas, I hope you realize I'm doing this for your own good." She walked quietly back to the bed and sat down on the edge beside him. She took his hand and caressed the back. "I love you dearly, and am terrified of losing you. You must begin to understand that I'll love you forever. I want to see you well and on your feet again, but even if you never take another step, it won't stop my feelings for you."

She bent forward and placed a soft kiss on his brow. "I didn't want to fall in love with you. I now know what Nancy Schaffer meant, and I never thought it would happen to me."

She studied his profile. In sleep, the worry lines were gone; the downward slope of his mouth had softened. Perhaps he was having happier dreams than his day-to-day life inspired. She hoped so. Only the new day would tell whether her latest attempt to goad him into living would work.

* * *

"Sel-l-l-kirk!" The bellow ricocheted off the walls, and if the servants hadn't already been up, they most certainly would have risen in a hurry.

"Oh, dear, here it comes," the gray-haired man commented as he and Jaci looked at each other over coffee.

"Well, at least we won't have any trouble hearing him from now on," she said wryly, not at all sure, in the morning light, that they had done the right thing. Unable to allow Selkirk to take the blame, she shadowed the man down the hall as he entered the study. Back against the wall, she scooted forward to overhear their conversation--feeling guilty, but not guilty enough to stop listening.

"What in the hell is going on? How did I get here?" The bellow hadn't softened, even though Selkirk was now inside the same room.

"Miss thought you'd be more comfortable--"

"Who?"

"Miss Eastman, sir. She thought it would do your spirits good to be among your family on the ground floor, and to see your horses." Jaci heard the scratch of the curtains being drawn open further.

"The only thing that will help my spirits is a bottle of spirits. And draw the damn drapes!" Nicholas's voice had become so belligerent that Jaci almost stepped inside.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Eastman says no more booze." Apparently Selkirk could hold his own.

"Booze?"

"Her word, sir, but I believe it means spirits."

"Miss Eastman, Miss Eastman. Who the hell put her in charge? Isn't this my house, anymore?"

"Yes, sir, but while you're recovering, Miss Eastman has taken over; so to speak, sir."

"Well, get Miss Eastman in here." There was a pause, and Jaci longed to see what was transpiring.

"Now!" The single word was hollered. Jaci's head scrunched into her shoulders.

"Yes, sir." Selkirk's voice was quite near, and when he appeared at the doorway, a wide grin split his usually stern features.

In a conspiring voice, he whispered, "Come," and headed down the hall towards the kitchen. Jaci quickly followed. Once they were out of hearing distance, he turned, the smile still in place.

"By Jove, it's good to see him show some spirit. He hoisted himself up on the bed, and for a moment, I actually thought he would jump up and come after me."

For the first time in days, Jaci laughed. It appeared things would get better. She took Nicholas his breakfast as a peace offering. He scowled at her but didn't bluster, and she refused to be intimidated. Calmly she explained that moving him was for his own good, the sunshine was for his own good, and getting well was for his own good.

"I'll come back when you're in a better mood," she ended her speech as she put his breakfast tray on his lap.

"That'll be a cold day in hell," he countered, but she took heart that he didn't sound nearly as belligerent as usual.

* * *

"Good day, sir. We're all very glad you've made it home." Selkirk's voice drifted into the parlor from the front door, and Jaci wondered to whom he spoke. Thomas wasn't expected, and she knew of no one else who had indicated they would come visiting.

Sitting in front of the fireplace, she looked up from the game of checkers she and Amanda were playing. A gasp escaped as a man entered the parlor. "Nicholas? How on earth?"

Amanda squealed and jumped up, running across the room. "Papa!" She grabbed the man's leg in a hug and wouldn't let go.

The man stood there, awkward and seemingly not knowing what to do with the child who clung to his person. He clumsily reached down to pat her head.

So this is Cameron, the prodigal brother,
thought Jaci. He looked just like Nicholas.

Dark hair fringed a tan face, his eyes the same silvery color. Upon closer scrutiny, she realized he was shorter than Nicholas, and gray had yet to tip his hair.

"Amanda, where are your manners?" she softly chided the child.

Amanda peeked around the edges of Cameron's coat, not in the least bothered by the fact that her own papa didn't toss her into the air as Nicholas did upon his return from business. She looked at Jaci, puckered her lips and shrugged her shoulders.

Jaci sighed and shook her head, trying to gracefully untangle her legs and rise from the floor.

"Allow me." Cameron had moved across the room to help her.

"Thank you." She suddenly felt shy, not at all sure how to respond to this man. After all, he was family, albeit absentee, and she was only an employee.

"My brother—where is he; how is he?" Even as he spoke, Cameron doffed his greatcoat and hat, handing them to Selkirk, who had followed him into the room. "Amanda, stop." He curtly acknowledged the child's tug on his pant leg.

Jaci immediately sprang to the little girl's defense. Gently, she untangled her from her father's leg and lifted her close. Kissing her cheek, she whispered softly to her, but shot daggers at the man. "Don't worry, sweetheart, your papa is tired from his trip. I'm sure that's the only reason he would speak so."