Breathe Again

Chapter 32

Sterling wiped the remaining evidence of tears from his face with the sleeve of his shirt and cleared his throat, striving for control. He'd spent enough time weeping.

Now he needed to follow through with his decision. Clenching his jaw, he finished removing his gear from Fancy's back and tried his best to ignore his broken heart.

Grabbing a handful of hay, he dried Fancy off and rubbed her down before giving her a bag of oats. He watched Fancy for a few more minutes, knowing he was stalling.

He should go upstairs to see what awaited him. Closing the stall, he forced down a swallow and willed his hands to quit shaking.

He took the stairs two at a time, and cautiously made his way over to the quilt door where he listened to Ashfield ask, "Do you see double?" There was no reply other than retching.

Sterling closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dottie was still alive. Now came the hard part; doing what he must so she remained that way.

He raised a hand to move the quilt aside when Ashfield said, "How many times have you vomited?"

Sterling waited, straining to hear anything over his heart hammering in his ears. His stomach was a series of knots, tightening the longer he stood outside the partition. Muttering a curse under his breath at his foolishness, Sterling moved the quilt aside.

He stood frozen as it swung quietly back into place behind him at the same time Louisa said, "She's only vomited once, but every little motion seems to make her sick."

The bitter smell of bile mixed with sweet hay lingered in the air, making Sterling's anxiety escalate. He rolled his shoulders to try to ease the tension, fighting against the desire to escape the room and forced his feet to remain rooted where he stood.

Ashfield moved his finger back and forth in front of Dottie's eyes, "Follow the motion of my finger without moving your head." A moment later, he lowered his hand to his lap, "Vomiting is a common side effect of head wounds." Ashfield paused briefly then looked up at Louisa, "Has she lost consciousness at all since she hit her head?"

Louisa blinked and took a step back, unsettled at having his gaze suddenly fixed on her. She nodded, "Y-yes, she had just barely come out of a faint when Sterling brought her back to-" Elliot cried out, drawing her attention. "It's alright, sweeting...your mama is going to be just fine."

She rested a hand on his stomach and soothed him back to sleep. Pulling his blanket up, she smiled and placed a kiss to his cheek. Elliot made a soft sucking noise and sighed, but remained asleep. After waiting a few minutes to ensure he was calm and wouldn't wake, she moved over to Ashfield and Dottie and bent to listen as he asked another question.

Dottie glanced over to the quilt door, hoping she'd find Sterling, and upon seeing him in the partial darkness, motioned him over.

Worried that talking would bring on another bout of dry heaving, she spoke with caution, "From the look on your face...I can only assume you had me dead and buried..."

Sterling clenched his jaw tight. She knew him too well. He'd have to watch what he said so she wouldn't suspect the nature of his thoughts. He didn't want to cause her any worry or alarm in her current state.

Stealing himself against the sharp pain in his heart, he walked to her side and held her hand. "I'm glad I was wrong."

Ashfield rummaged through his bag and withdrew a small corked vial then turned to Louisa, "Will you get me a cup of warm water? Not too hot..." He watched Louisa step from the room and turned back at Dottie. He smiled, "It's remarkable your head wound seems to be the worst you've suffered from your ordeal. You're extremely fortunate." He turned kind eyes to Sterling, "It's almost as if you two had a guardian angel watching over you tonight."

Dottie met Sterling's gaze, but they both remained quiet while Ashfield cleaned Dottie's various wounds and placed two stitches into the gash.

Louisa brought over the hot water Ashfield had asked for and handed him a cup, which he took and poured a small amount of brownish liquid from the vial. He added another drop of the potion, then placed the bottle back within his bag.

Giving the cup a gentle swirl, he held it out to Dottie, "Drink this. It'll help with your nausea and headache."

She gave the brew a cautious sniff and drank it. Even though the drink had been warm, a pleasant cooling sensation trailed down her throat until it settled and pooled in her stomach. Within a few short minutes, it began to ease her discomfort.

Taking the empty cup from Dottie, Ashfield handed it back to Louisa and withdrew a wide-mouthed bottle from his bag. He uncorked the bottle, and all four adults coughed as the pungent aroma assaulted their noses and burned their lungs.

Ashfield turned apologetic teary eyes to Dottie, and gasped, "This is going to work wonders, I promise."

Sterling held a hand over his mouth and nose and struggled to breathe normally. "At least it doesn't smell rotten like the ones you gave me."

"And do you remember what I told you?" Ashfield coughed then raised a brow. He took a careful sniff so the effect would not be lost, and continued with mock snobbery, "The smellier they are, the better they are. You are living proof that my potions work just as I said they would."

Sterling snorted, coughed, then shrugged, watching Ashfield apply a thin layer of ointment to the stitched wound at her temple and the other scrapes before corking the bottle and placing it on the small bedside table.

"That should do it for now." Ashfield gave a reassuring smile to Dottie and stood, gathering up his supplies and depositing them back within.

Glancing around to make sure he hadn't forgotten any instrument, he latched the bag closed and took up his hat. "I'll come by in the morning to check on you, but don't hesitate to call on me if you need me for anything before then." He looked at Sterling, "Do you have any wounds that need my assistance, or has a miracle happened and spared you from further harm?"

"I'm sore, but not hurt."

Ashfield nodded. "Well... it would appear my presence is no longer needed." What else could he say or do to stall and spend a few more moments in Louisa's company? Nothing came to mind.

Rolling his shoulders to ease the tension setting in, he took his bag in hand. "All right then...I'll be on my way. Remember to call me if you need me at all before morning."

"Thank you," Dottie and Sterling said in unison.

Ashfield nodded and plunked his hat upon his head. He cast a lingering glance at Louisa, then smiled, "My pleasure." Blinking, he turned his attention over to Dottie and Sterling, "Goodnight." With one last nod and a quick smile at Louisa, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Dottie gave a pointed look to her mother, which lasted far longer than Dottie thought she'd have to hold it.

She hid a smile when Louisa gasped, "Oh...uh-" she swallowed and called out with a squeaky voice, "I'll see you out, Ashfield." With a glance back at Sterling and Dottie, Louisa followed Ashfield from the room.