goddamn mistake
.
“An aversion,” she said, her eyes wide. “To touching?”
“Not…” He had not looked at it this way. He had not taken it apart like this. It was all just a blank horror. “I can tolerate touching her, I think. But I can’t tolerate… to be… touched by her.”
“Why aren’t you with this... her? To work on your aversion.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. “If I fail, it will hurt her so much.”
Her smile was startling. And pretty. “Well, I do love a challenge. May I help you take off your coat?” she asked, but before he could answer she reached for his buttons. The pressure of her fingers against his ribs made it suddenly impossible to breathe, and he flinched away.
“I’ll do it.” Carefully he took off his coat, laid it across the chair near the table with the lamp.
“Your vest,” she said. There was a secret tension in her body. And he could suddenly feel her interest.
It was not uncomfortable.
He took off his vest, and then he was standing there in his shirtsleeves and suspenders.
“Would you like to touch me?” she asked, holding out her hands, those moonlight arms.
Trembling, he reached for her fingers. They were warm from being in the gloves. Her palms were damp. His fingers traced the tendon under her wrist, and her breath came in slowly. He got to her elbows, and her fingers brushed the insides of his arms, and he stopped for a moment. He didn’t flinch, which was an improvement, but the instinct was one he had to fight.
“What happened?” she asked. “That you're like this?”
For a moment the memory was too strong. The crush of the bodies. The wet thickness of blood and shit seeping into his clothes. His skin.
He lurched back, sucking in air.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her hands up. “I’m sorry I asked.”
He stood just outside the brightest circle of light from the lamp. His shoes were cut in half by it.
He needed to give up on this idea of Anne. Of being anything of use to her besides a friend.
But that, of course, would be over too. Once she was married. There would be nothing of them when she married.
And that, more than anything, made his decision for him.
“Shall we try again?” Delilah asked.
Anne
, he thought. Anne was worth it.
He nodded and stepped back into the light.
And then the screaming started.
Chapter 6
A nne put the last of the re-laundered and rolled bandages into the dresser in the room they used for surgery and exams. She blew out the lamp, and the curl of smoke and the smell of extinguished flame followed her out the door.
It was past time for her to go to bed, and she’d exhausted all of her distractions.
I could ask for a lesson in setting bones
, she thought, looking down the hallway at Dr. Madison’s shut door. But he’d gone into his room, sweating and shaking, a few hours ago and she did not have the wherewithal to face him. Not his addiction. Not his piercing eyes. Not after Steven.
In the back, there was a baby's soft cry and the thump of Elizabeth's feet on the floor.
I could see if she needs help. Surely
, she thought,
someone needs help
.
A sudden pounding on the door made her jump, her heart in her throat.
“Doc!” a man yelled, and he pounded again. Frantic. “Doc! We need you!”
There was no movement, no sound from Dr. Madison’s quarters, so she stepped toward the front door and opened it, letting in moonlight and cold air.
And Tell Garrity.
“What’s happened?” she asked. All thoughts of Steven and Dr. Madison gone. “Is it Sam?”
Tell’s thin, dirty face was streaked with sweat and tears. “There’s a problem at Delilah’s. Sam… Sam did something to one of the girls, and he’s got himself locked up in the room, and he’ll only open the door for Dr. Madison. People are threatening to kill him if he doesn’t open the door…”
Oh, God. She’d wanted a distraction, but not this.
“One minute,” she murmured, already halfway down the hallway. Dr.
.
“An aversion,” she said, her eyes wide. “To touching?”
“Not…” He had not looked at it this way. He had not taken it apart like this. It was all just a blank horror. “I can tolerate touching her, I think. But I can’t tolerate… to be… touched by her.”
“Why aren’t you with this... her? To work on your aversion.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. “If I fail, it will hurt her so much.”
Her smile was startling. And pretty. “Well, I do love a challenge. May I help you take off your coat?” she asked, but before he could answer she reached for his buttons. The pressure of her fingers against his ribs made it suddenly impossible to breathe, and he flinched away.
“I’ll do it.” Carefully he took off his coat, laid it across the chair near the table with the lamp.
“Your vest,” she said. There was a secret tension in her body. And he could suddenly feel her interest.
It was not uncomfortable.
He took off his vest, and then he was standing there in his shirtsleeves and suspenders.
“Would you like to touch me?” she asked, holding out her hands, those moonlight arms.
Trembling, he reached for her fingers. They were warm from being in the gloves. Her palms were damp. His fingers traced the tendon under her wrist, and her breath came in slowly. He got to her elbows, and her fingers brushed the insides of his arms, and he stopped for a moment. He didn’t flinch, which was an improvement, but the instinct was one he had to fight.
“What happened?” she asked. “That you're like this?”
For a moment the memory was too strong. The crush of the bodies. The wet thickness of blood and shit seeping into his clothes. His skin.
He lurched back, sucking in air.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her hands up. “I’m sorry I asked.”
He stood just outside the brightest circle of light from the lamp. His shoes were cut in half by it.
He needed to give up on this idea of Anne. Of being anything of use to her besides a friend.
But that, of course, would be over too. Once she was married. There would be nothing of them when she married.
And that, more than anything, made his decision for him.
“Shall we try again?” Delilah asked.
Anne
, he thought. Anne was worth it.
He nodded and stepped back into the light.
And then the screaming started.
Chapter 6
A nne put the last of the re-laundered and rolled bandages into the dresser in the room they used for surgery and exams. She blew out the lamp, and the curl of smoke and the smell of extinguished flame followed her out the door.
It was past time for her to go to bed, and she’d exhausted all of her distractions.
I could ask for a lesson in setting bones
, she thought, looking down the hallway at Dr. Madison’s shut door. But he’d gone into his room, sweating and shaking, a few hours ago and she did not have the wherewithal to face him. Not his addiction. Not his piercing eyes. Not after Steven.
In the back, there was a baby's soft cry and the thump of Elizabeth's feet on the floor.
I could see if she needs help. Surely
, she thought,
someone needs help
.
A sudden pounding on the door made her jump, her heart in her throat.
“Doc!” a man yelled, and he pounded again. Frantic. “Doc! We need you!”
There was no movement, no sound from Dr. Madison’s quarters, so she stepped toward the front door and opened it, letting in moonlight and cold air.
And Tell Garrity.
“What’s happened?” she asked. All thoughts of Steven and Dr. Madison gone. “Is it Sam?”
Tell’s thin, dirty face was streaked with sweat and tears. “There’s a problem at Delilah’s. Sam… Sam did something to one of the girls, and he’s got himself locked up in the room, and he’ll only open the door for Dr. Madison. People are threatening to kill him if he doesn’t open the door…”
Oh, God. She’d wanted a distraction, but not this.
“One minute,” she murmured, already halfway down the hallway. Dr.
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