good, girl. Spit it out,” James murmured.
Dory hurried into the room, her face anxious. “Is she choking?”
“You filled her so full of that tea she had to vomit.”
Dory knelt down and wiped Odette’s face while Ben stood helplessly by and watched James and Dory work with the young girl
who had come to mean so much to him.
“Do you have something dry you can put on her, Sis?” James asked, as he laid Odette back down on the makeshift bed. “We can’t
let her get chilled.”
“I’ll get a nightdress. You men can go drink your coffee while I change her gown. Do you think she’ll be all right?” Dory
asked anxiously.
James stood and looked down at Odette’s pale oval face. Her thick blond braid had come unraveled and damp strands curled about
her ears. Suddenly she opened her eyes and looked directly into his. Her great blue eyes were wide open and staring… at him.
There was a strange stillness about her. He didn’t know what to say. Then her eyes drifted shut. He wanted to look into those
blue eyes again. He wanted her to see him, really see him. He wanted—
“James,” Dory prodded. “Will she be all right now?”
“I don’t know. I sure as hell hope so. Sit by her, Sis, so she don’t roll off. When we come back up, we’ll put her over in
the bed.”
James put on his shirt and went out the door. Ben’s eyes met Dory’s and held. He moved to her, put his hand on her shoulder
and squeezed gently.
“Thanks,” he said, low-voiced and husky.
She nodded.
CHAPTER
* 8 *
Dory was bone-tired, too tired to sleep. James had urged her to get some rest. Ben was going to sit with Odette and had promised
to call her if there was the slightest change.
She lay in Milo’s bed beside Jeanmarie thinking that she had never, in all her life, lain on this bed. Occasionally she changed
the bedding as she had done the first night Odette spent here. Other than that she seldom even came into the room. Milo didn’t
seem to mind the dust balls on the floor or the cobwebs on the ceiling, so why should she?
Milo was getting bolder and bolder with his abuse. Tonight was the first time he had struck her face. Usually it was a pinch
or a slap some place where the bruise wouldn’t show. Thank heaven James had been too occupied with Odette to really notice
her face. By morning the swelling would be down and the bruise less noticeable.
When Dory heard the roosters crowing, she turned her head to look out the window. It was daylight. She eased out of the bed,
tucked the covers around her daughter and felt on the floor for her moccasins. After belting her wrapper tightly about her
waist, she ran her fingers through her short curls and left the room.
Ben sat in a chair beside the bunk where Odette lay, his head tilted back against the wall. His eyes were closed, his mouth
relaxed and slightly parted. Dory stood for a long moment looking at him. As soon as Odette was strong enough to travel, he
would take her and leave. This could be the only chance she would have to really look at him, to store away his image so that
she could bring it out in the dark lonely days ahead and relive the few short hours they had shared.
His hair, dark as midnight, was thick and wavy and fell down over his ears. His cheekbones were high and his strong jaw was
covered with a stubble of black whiskers. His face, she thought, was somewhat sinister looking until he smiled, which was
seldom. Dory saw a great deal more than his physical good looks. She saw a kind, strong, restless man seeking to do the best
he could for his daughter just as she was trying to do for hers.
Suddenly she realized his eyes were open and he was looking at her. Her heart lurched, but she managed to lift her brows in
question and nod toward Odette. The girl lay on her side and from the rhythm of her breathing, seemed to be resting peacefully.
Ben looked at his daughter, then back at Dory. His smile told her what she needed
Dory hurried into the room, her face anxious. “Is she choking?”
“You filled her so full of that tea she had to vomit.”
Dory knelt down and wiped Odette’s face while Ben stood helplessly by and watched James and Dory work with the young girl
who had come to mean so much to him.
“Do you have something dry you can put on her, Sis?” James asked, as he laid Odette back down on the makeshift bed. “We can’t
let her get chilled.”
“I’ll get a nightdress. You men can go drink your coffee while I change her gown. Do you think she’ll be all right?” Dory
asked anxiously.
James stood and looked down at Odette’s pale oval face. Her thick blond braid had come unraveled and damp strands curled about
her ears. Suddenly she opened her eyes and looked directly into his. Her great blue eyes were wide open and staring… at him.
There was a strange stillness about her. He didn’t know what to say. Then her eyes drifted shut. He wanted to look into those
blue eyes again. He wanted her to see him, really see him. He wanted—
“James,” Dory prodded. “Will she be all right now?”
“I don’t know. I sure as hell hope so. Sit by her, Sis, so she don’t roll off. When we come back up, we’ll put her over in
the bed.”
James put on his shirt and went out the door. Ben’s eyes met Dory’s and held. He moved to her, put his hand on her shoulder
and squeezed gently.
“Thanks,” he said, low-voiced and husky.
She nodded.
CHAPTER
* 8 *
Dory was bone-tired, too tired to sleep. James had urged her to get some rest. Ben was going to sit with Odette and had promised
to call her if there was the slightest change.
She lay in Milo’s bed beside Jeanmarie thinking that she had never, in all her life, lain on this bed. Occasionally she changed
the bedding as she had done the first night Odette spent here. Other than that she seldom even came into the room. Milo didn’t
seem to mind the dust balls on the floor or the cobwebs on the ceiling, so why should she?
Milo was getting bolder and bolder with his abuse. Tonight was the first time he had struck her face. Usually it was a pinch
or a slap some place where the bruise wouldn’t show. Thank heaven James had been too occupied with Odette to really notice
her face. By morning the swelling would be down and the bruise less noticeable.
When Dory heard the roosters crowing, she turned her head to look out the window. It was daylight. She eased out of the bed,
tucked the covers around her daughter and felt on the floor for her moccasins. After belting her wrapper tightly about her
waist, she ran her fingers through her short curls and left the room.
Ben sat in a chair beside the bunk where Odette lay, his head tilted back against the wall. His eyes were closed, his mouth
relaxed and slightly parted. Dory stood for a long moment looking at him. As soon as Odette was strong enough to travel, he
would take her and leave. This could be the only chance she would have to really look at him, to store away his image so that
she could bring it out in the dark lonely days ahead and relive the few short hours they had shared.
His hair, dark as midnight, was thick and wavy and fell down over his ears. His cheekbones were high and his strong jaw was
covered with a stubble of black whiskers. His face, she thought, was somewhat sinister looking until he smiled, which was
seldom. Dory saw a great deal more than his physical good looks. She saw a kind, strong, restless man seeking to do the best
he could for his daughter just as she was trying to do for hers.
Suddenly she realized his eyes were open and he was looking at her. Her heart lurched, but she managed to lift her brows in
question and nod toward Odette. The girl lay on her side and from the rhythm of her breathing, seemed to be resting peacefully.
Ben looked at his daughter, then back at Dory. His smile told her what she needed
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