Saving the Gunslinger

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sunlight streamed in on Eleanor's face and she cursed, realizing she had forgotten to pull the curtains closed before going to sleep the night before. She moaned as she snuggled deeper into her pillow and pulled the covers over her head.

"If you're awake, I believe we need to have a talk."

Eleanor heart slammed into her ribs as she shot upright in bed, her eyes immediately falling on Doctor Reynolds where he sat in the arm chair pulled close to the bed. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

His expression was tight. "Take a moment to gather your wits. You'll remember."

Frowning, she rubbed at her face and glanced around the room. Her mouth was dry and her head dizzy. Her body felt weak and tired and everything ached. What had happened? An image of Timothy O'Neil came to mind, and with it, the events of the evening before. Eleanor had gotten very ill and she'd lost consciousness. That would explain the docs' presence.

Doctor Reynolds got to his feet and filled a glass of water from a small pitcher beside the door. He placed it in Eleanor's hand and waited as she took several small swallows. "I ran Timothy out of here around two this morning because if the man had paced one more time across this floor he very likely would have fallen through to the saloon below."

Eleanor was confused. Why would Timothy care what happened to her?

"You and I need to have a talk, Eleanor. Timothy wanted answers as to what was wrong with you, as did Caroline. I was as honest with them as I felt I could be. You are malnourished from improper diet. You are severely dehydrated. You're exhausted from lack of sleep. All in all your rather dramatic display of last night was caused in most part by those three things."

Eleanor winced but she was relieved. If the doctor thought that was all that was wrong with her then it meant he hadn't realized she was with child—if anyone found out it could be a disaster.

"I'm sorry, doc. I'll take better care of myself," she promised, taking another long sip of water before setting the cup on the side table. She wrapped the blanket around herself, feeling a chill as she sat there in her corset and bloomers.

Doctor Reynold's heavy graying mustache tugged down at the corners as he took a seat beside her bed once again. "It's too late for the rue to work, Eleanor."

She froze. Her eyes blinked several times. Her heart dropped to her stomach. "What?"

"You heard me. I would guess based on the heartbeat I could hear with stethoscope and the measurements I took, that you are nearing three months along. Rue has to be taken within the first month to be safely effective. To end your pregnancy now would require more of the herb than your body could survive. You would die."

"How... how did you know?" Dear God he knew. That meant others would know. What was she going to do? Eleanor had no idea. How could she be a mother and a whore? It simply wasn't possible.

"Breathe, Eleanor." The doctor reached in his pocket and pulled out a vial of peppermint oil. Pouring several drops on a rag, he held it out. "Breathe this in, it will help with the nausea. You're looking rather green."

Green? Hell. Eleanor did her best to take several steady deep breaths. Doctor Reynolds sighed. "When Caroline came racing into my office last night and told us you had lost consciousness, Lewis panicked. He knew he had given you that rue and he was terrified that you had used too much and done harm to yourself. He admitted to me that he had given it to you and he has been dealt with severely."