Dream Weaver (22 page)

 
She headed for the Windsor chair, deciding to keep her distance from him, for her own peace of mind.

The aroma of baking bread drifted from the kitchen, and flames crackled in the hearth, imbuing the common room with a cozy warmth. Lumi lay stretched out by the hearth, an occasional twitch telling her he was dreaming. The children's laughter reached them from the backyard swings, all these familiar attributes she'd come to accept without thinking.

Everything was so pleasant and homey. A wish flashed through her mind, that this was her home and Christian her husband, the children theirs. Looking over at Christian, she caught his gaze on her. She'd give anything to know what went through his mind. Was he thinking the same as she? Now, she must be dreaming.

Rebecca left the kitchen to join them a few minutes later. "Sorry Daniel isn't here," she said, wiping damp hands on her woolen apron. "He departed for
Fort
Pitt
but a short while ago." "Strange." Christian's glance swung from Gwen to Rebecca. "That is my destination also. As a matter of fact, I stopped by to see if you needed anything from the trading post. However, 'tis always pleasant to visit my neighbors." His gaze settled on Gwen. "No school today?

She met his gaze with her own and dared to imagine he was recalling their last trip to
Fort
Pitt
and their kisses, their caresses....

She jerked her mind back to his question. "Saturday. I let the children have two days off. They work hard enough the rest of the week."

"Oh, aye. One day seems much the same as another, except Sunday, of course." He paused, tapping his fingers on the arm of the settle. "My patient from
Bedford
paid me quite generously--ten pounds, as a matter of fact--so I intend to order more medical supplies, gauze and such. But I've been wondering... Surely there must be other things I could do with the money, for the people around here, that is." Christian tossed both women a hopeful glance. "Have you ladies any suggestions?"

"A hospital," Gwen said on the spur of the moment.

"A hospital?" Rebecca and Christian echoed.

Gwen spread her arms wide. "You know what I mean--a central place where you can keep your medical supplies, where people can come to you for help, where women can give birth--"

"Give birth in a hospital?" Christian asked with a disapproving frown. "I've heard about a hospital like that in
Paris
where women give birth. They must share a bed with other patients, four or five people to a bed, each suffering from a different malady." He shook his head. "And don't forget, Gwen, this isn't
Philadelphia
. I can't quite envision a hospital in the wilderness."

"Well, I think it's a good idea," Gwen said. "You could train young men and women to apply bandages and help look after those who are sick, maybe pay them a certain amount for their services. And then, if someone has an illness, like pneumonia, he could rest and receive treatment in the hospital." She threw them both a satisfied smile.

"How would a person get to the hospital," Rebecca asked, "if he's sick? 'Tis difficult to ride a horse when you have a fever."

Gwen folded her arms across her chest. "How much rest and care does a person get at home, when there may be several children and a crying baby besides?"

Christian nodded. "Aye, you may have a point there. 'Tis something to consider. And I shall think on it." He rose and made a slight bow to both of them, but his look switched to Gwen, his gaze warm and steady. "'Twas a pleasant visit with two charming ladies. But now, best I go on to
Fort
Pitt
." He walked out of the room in his confident stride, leaving a lot of ideas for her to ponder in his wake.

Rebecca returned to the kitchen, and Gwen resumed her sewing, with Christian dominating her mind. She thought again of his kisses, the touch of his skin, his hard, taut body. Letting her hands fall into her lap, she remembered the last time he held her close and what might have happened if she hadn't stopped him. And why had she stopped him, darn it! If she had him with her now, the two of them alone... Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander.

 
She shook her head. Thinking about him wouldn't get her anywhere. Better to focus her mind in a more profitable direction, the hospital, for instance, with Christian in charge and she at his side. If she couldn't return to the twenty-first century, she'd do everything possible to help Christian here, to enrich his life...their lives.

If only she'd get the chance. If only Christian would marry her.

Chapter Fourteen

"What about Thanksgiving?" Gwen asked Rebecca one frosty morning after breakfast. A brisk wind rattled the windows, and a bone-chilling cold hung over the common room, telltale reminders of the coming winter. A fire blazed in the fireplace, but unless she sat next to it, she froze like an iceberg. With a torn dress of Bryony's and a threaded needle in her lap, she eased her chair closer to the hearth. "The holiday is coming up soon."

"Thanksgiving?" Rebecca paused in her mending, a thoughtful frown on her face. "The Puritans celebrated it for the first time, I believe, but we normally don't. What about you? Did you celebrate Thanksgiving where you come from?"

"Well, sure, in late November. We made a lot--much of it, with a big turkey dinner and pumpkin pie, lots of other goodies--uh, good things to eat."

Another puzzled look from Rebecca reminded her--again!--to watch her language and talk more like a Georgian lady.

"That sounds agreeable," Rebecca said. "I'll mention the turkey to Daniel, see if he can fetch a big one. Mayhap invite Edward and Leah, and Christian, of course."

Thanksgiving--one little touch of my twenty-first century life, Gwen thought as she finished her mending. And another chance to see Christian.

Days later, Gwen inhaled the delicious aromas that wafted from platters of turkey and venison, dishes of potato pudding, corn, and green beans that graced the long lace-topped table in the Chamberlains' common room. Thanksgiving, 1762. Christian sat next to her at the table, a fact she tried to accept with studied casualness, even though his proximity made her heart beat a little faster.

And Christian? What was going through his mind? Did his pulse race too, just sitting next to her? Did his mind stray to images of kisses and warm embraces, like those they'd shared on their last trip to
Fort
Pitt
?

 
"Best dinner I've had in a long time." Christian set his fork on his plate, his gaze covering everyone.

"I believe we should credit Molly for much of the cooking." Rebecca directed a smile at Gwen. "And certainly we should thank Gwen for the suggestion of a Thanksgiving dinner." She returned to the task of cutting up pieces of turkey for Robert, who sat in his high chair, happily banging his spoon on the tray. Bryony sat on Rebecca's other side, very much the sedate little lady, as if trying to put her younger brother to shame.

Edward glanced at Gwen. "So this was your idea, and a splendid one, to be sure. I understand you're teaching some of the young people in these parts. How go your classes, Gwen?"

She tucked a stray lock of hair under her mobcap. "Coming along fine. I really enjoy teaching those kids--uh, children. They can all read short sentences and do simple mathematics. Maybe after awhile, I'll teach the older ones rudimentary algebra."

"Only the boys, of course." Edward looked to her for confirmation.

"What do you mean, 'only the boys'?” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Why shouldn't the girls learn algebra, too?"

"'Tis fine for boys to learn that branch of mathematics--although I know not how such a subject will benefit them in this wilderness--but I fear 'tis too difficult for young girls. The study may prove harmful to the delicate female brain."

"Delicate female brain! Well, well, Mr. Horton, where'd you get that idea? It sure didn't hurt me to learn algebra." Was the whole world crazy, or was she the only one? She cut off a bite of turkey and chewed, hoping to conceal her frustration with the mindset of the times.

Christian cleared his throat. "Another good idea Gwen had concerns a hospital for this area," he said, conveniently forgetting his earlier opposition to her idea.

"A hospital sounds good," Leah said, expressing an opinion for the first time. "Christian, didn't you once tell me you practiced medicine at a hospital in
Philadelphia
?"

Amid discussions of hospitals and illnesses in the wilderness, the meal ended with spicy pumpkin pie and bohea tea. With contented smiles and occasional comments, everyone pushed their chairs back from the table, some gathering by the hearth. If only we had central heating, Gwen mused, drawing her shawl closer about her shoulders.

In her quiet way, Molly came to collect the plates and cutlery and took them out to the kitchen. Gwen helped her clear the table, a welcome chance to cool down after Edward's narrow-minded remarks. She piled several plates on top of each other, topping the load with a serving platter.

On her return from the kitchen, Christian stood in the hallway outside Daniel's study, his look intense. She halted in her steps, then continued on in her normal stride, her face set in studied nonchalance.

He blocked her way. "A few minutes of your time, please." With a slight bow, he opened the door for her. "Pray come inside with me. I want to talk to you."

Although aching to be alone with him, she wouldn't make her feelings obvious. "Oh, I don't know," she said with a cautious glance toward the common room. "They'll--"

"--not miss us at all. I already excused myself by telling Daniel I wanted to look at a few books in his room. He and Edward are discussing the rotation of crops, and I doubt not Rebecca and Leah are exchanging recipes."

"Spoken like a true chauvinist!"

"A true what? Never mind. Tempus fugit." With a flourish, Christian motioned her inside. "You know you want to talk to me." He grinned. "So admit it, why don't you?"

"Sure of yourself, aren't you, Christian Norgard?"

"But of course!"

"Well!" Shivering from the chill in the hall, Gwen stepped into the room. Strange, she'd never been in this room before. Now she examined it closely to mask her excitement at Christian's nearness, her gaze roaming over every corner of the room. A fire smoldered in the brick fireplace, enfolding the small, closed room in a satisfying warmth.

He bolted the door, surprising her.

"Don't tell me," she said, "let me guess. You're going to hold me for ransom."

Christian chuckled. "Nothing quite so dramatic. I wanted only to speak with you in private. 'Tis bad the weather has been lately, with much sickness, giving me but little opportunity to see you. And when the snow arrives, the path may be impassable, so you may not see me again for a long time."

She wanted to say something flippant but remained silent, afraid of giving herself away. How could she tell him she'd miss him as she'd miss her every breath, every heartbeat?

An unfathomable expression touched his face as he drew away from the door, each step bringing him closer, until he stood before her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Unable to stop herself, she absorbed his every facial feature, his dark and sexy eyes. The men of her own time had nothing on him, she thought, her gaze covering over six feet of tempting masculinity.

She wondered what he was thinking about now, what made his shoulders tense and caused the anxious look to cross his face. Her heartbeat picked up, scads of speculations darting through her mind, each one beginning and ending with Christian.

"I must confess you've been much on my mind lately." Christian shook his head. "No, let me say that another way. You are all I can think about." He sighed. "I still don't understand where you came from, and we'll let that go for now," he said as she opened her mouth to respond.

He held up a hand. "Nay, let me finish. I want to know if you intend to stay with Daniel and Rebecca here in the valley, or if you're going to leave us as mysteriously as you arrived. So pray tell me your plans and forgive this interrogation, but I think I have a right to know."

"A right?" She tilted her head back. "Why do you want to know my plans?"

"I'll tell you why," he said, his face gentling. He reached up to tuck an unruly lock under her mobcap, then let his hand fall to his side. "You've come to mean much to me. I said the same the day of Leah's wedding, or don't you remember?"

"I remember," she murmured. So what's the reason for your questions? she wanted to ask, her resistance wearing down, her heart thumping like a hundred bass drums. One more minute and she'd throw herself into his arms and beg for a kiss.

Christian eased her closer, his voice low and soft. "I love you so much I don't know how I can live without you. So pray tell me your plans.”

This was what she wanted, what she'd dreamed of all these months. Nothing could be more wonderful than this--to have his strong, hard body so close to hers that she caught his body heat, his heartbeat next to her ear. Lost in the miracle of his love, she had to search for the right words to answer him.