Through the Darkness: Of Love and Loss Series Book One

7

Everett clenched his teeth against the jolt of pain, searing its way through his body. It wended its way from his thigh in an incessant wave of spasms while Tabitha changed his bandages for the second time that day.

After three delirious weeks of torture, the infection had finally cleared, or so the imperious Nurse Winters decreed early this morning. As though he couldn't figure that part out himself by the absence of molten lava coursing through his veins.

Imbeciles. The lot of them.

Bumbling imbeciles, to be more exact, he silently amended. If he'd learned anything during his time here, it was that in all their training, which he was beginning to doubt a good majority possessed, no one had ever taught any of them how to be gentle. Not when dealing with appendages with nerves that had been flayed wide open and screamed at the faintest touch.

The only person capable of soothing him remained to be Pegleg. But for some reason, she'd yet to make an appearance today. He'd asked about her earlier. Several times, in fact, and to different people—at least, he thought they were different. Being blind, it became a bit difficult to know for sure. However, they'd all rudely ignored him.

So, Everett decided to give them the silent treatment in return. Juvenile behavior it may be, but it also proved to be somewhat effective.

Those who tended him approached with caution, like a dangerous animal meant to be kept at arm's length. Proof that Captain Rattlesnake had made a lasting impression.

They carried out their duties of bathing him, changing bed linens, and dressing his wounds with quick and impartial efficiency. Which should have filled him with satisfaction. But instead, it only made Pegleg's absence more noticeable.

She'd been at his side every day since his arrival, which meant spending an entire day without her made today one of his worst. It surprised and worried him because, by midday, he realized his current misery stemmed from her absence.

He might almost believe he'd fallen for her if he didn't know better.

"All finished," Tabitha murmured, securing the last bandage. She pulled his blanket to his waist and gathered her tray of supplies. "There's talk you'll be discharged shortly, perhaps within the next week or two."

That got Everett's attention, but he didn't want her to know. So, he grunted. Let her figure out what he meant by it.

"You're on the mend," she added with a smile in her voice. Curious how he'd begun to pick up on those slight inflections he'd never noticed before. She paused for a moment before continuing, "Why the frown? I thought you'd be pleased."

He thought he would be too. "I am," he lied.

"Your family must be eager to have you home, safe and sound."

Everett muttered a curse and clenched his hand into a tight fist. Her steadfast positivity in the face of his bad mood only irritated him further. "Oh yes, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have me back again, now that I'm blind and crippled."

The tray softly clattered as she leaned forward, her hand resting lightly upon his bare shoulder. "Captain...sometimes, we are only as crippled as we allow ourselves to be." Then, without another word, she left.

Everett grumbled under his breath, unsure why her parting words raised his hackles. Before the war, he might have said something along the same lines. He used to believe a person was solely in charge of who or what they became in life—regardless of how, or perhaps most importantly, who raised them.

He had even been a prime example of such theories since his first thirteen years living with his father were anything but ideal.

But he was older now. Wiser to the true workings of life. He no longer viewed the world in such a simple, idealistic way. War, no doubt, had that effect on people.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he forced his fingers to unclench and strained his ears for any sound of Pegleg. But before he knew it, minutes passed into hours, and a little while later, instead of hearing her distinct tap tap tap reverberating down the hall, there came a confident, light step he couldn't put a name to before they entered his room.

"Oh my," an unfamiliar woman said. "Even with those bandages over your eyes, you have the look of a thundercloud about you." She had a kind voice full of good humor, the sort of person who could instantly put others at ease.

However, in his current state, it only served to irritate him. "Who are you?" He growled, not even caring that he sounded rude. "What do you want?"

"Goodness, she was right," the woman chuckled softly, walking toward his bed. "I'm Daphne, a friend of Elyria's."

"Who?"

Daphne clucked her tongue in disapproval and sat in the chair beside his bed, saying softly, "I believe you call her Pegleg."

Everett grunted. "She told you."

"She tells me everything."

He sighed, unsure if it was good or bad that Pegleg talked about him with her friend. "Why isn't she here?"

Daphne hesitated." Because she's attending to a family matter today."

Whatever that meant, it couldn't possibly be a good family matter. The gravity of her tone made him wonder what she kept from him. But it wasn't really his place to delve into the issue further.

He was the interloper where Pegleg was concerned, not Daphne. They were friends—he remained merely a patient, and when he left here, there'd be a good chance she wouldn't even remember him.

"Why are you here?" He asked, hating that he couldn't hide the dejection from his voice. "Did Nurse Winters send you to ensure I'm behaving myself?"

Daphne held silent for a moment before softly saying, "No. Elyria asked me to see that her friend was being taken care of, so I thought I'd pop in before I head home for the day."

He grunted, unsure if he believed her. "Friend?"

"She doesn't have many," Daphne said, causing the chair to creak when she stood. "So, believe me, Captain, when I tell you she doesn't use the word lightly." Her cool fingers caressed his brow, "Do you need anything before I leave?"

Everett swallowed and shook his head, unable to speak around the lump of emotion clogging his throat.

She patted his shoulder gently and straightened the blankets at his waist. "Then goodnight, Captain Rattlesnake. I hope you sleep well."