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simply fall back into old habits.
And what about Ransom? Assuming they eventually got back home, what would he
want from her?
Great sex in the midst of their busy schedules? A brief affair? A long affair?
She didn't think he would simply forget about her once they were back in New
York; he hadn't forgotten last time, after all. She might not even worry about
what he wanted, except for one problem; she had fallen in love with him, and
she was starting to realize that she wanted a whole hell of a lot from him.
And if she had worried because he had known about her shameful secret six
months ago, it was nothing compared to the vulnerability she felt now that he
held her fragile heart in his hands. He could break it so easily, she knew;
but she wouldn't take it back from him, even if she could. She wouldn't run
away from legitimate pain anymore, or keep people she cared about at a
convenient distance.
She returned to the mission as soon as she was done eating, conscious that
Ransom needed her. Sister's
Margaret's help would, of necessity, be limited to advice and occasional
visits. Other than that, Ransom was completely dependent upon Madeleine's
care. She felt inadequate and desperately wished she knew more about medicine.
Despite being cut off from the outside world, Madeleine harbored a hope that
someone would send supplies soon, before Ransom got any worse. With all the
refugees streaming into this area, surely
someone the Red Cross, the UN, someone would learn what was happening in San
Remo before long.
But how would the supplies get here? She understood logistics and operations
far better than physiology, and she pondered the question as she returned to
Ransom's side. He was resting fitfully, his skin flushed and hotter than ever.
She decided it was time to make that poultice and went back outside.
A young girl saw her looking for a small pot in the kitchen yard and offered
to help her. Madeleine accepted gratefully and watched in silence as the girl
went about preparing the poultice with apparently experienced hands.
It would be hard to bring supplies overland, Madeleine reflected, yet the
enormous quantity of food and medicine and other supplies needed here, as well
as the lack of a local airstrip, would probably make overland delivery
necessary. If they came across the nearest border Argentina they'd still take
a full day to get here after entering the country. Maybe longer, considering
the condition of the roads, the cumbersome weight of the trucks, and the
unpredictable outbreaks of violence throughout Montedora now. Add on the time
it would take to mount such an operation, as well as the time it would take
various organizations to even realize the scope of the assistance needed in
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San Remo ... Madeleine felt panic stirring in her stomach again, threatening
to bring up the food she had recently consumed. Could Ransom hold on that
long?
Sternly suppressing her fear, she accepted the young girl's offer to apply the
poultice for her, led her back to Ransom, and watched everything she did,
trying to learn. Ransom woke up long enough to tell her what a terrible idea
he thought this was.
Would you like me to pour some Listerine on your wound instead? she
suggested.
He glared at her. With his growing beard, cuts and bruises, and glittering
eyes, he looked terribly fierce.
The girl glanced doubtfully at Madeleine.
You're scaring her, Madeleine chided.
His gaze slid to the girl. He said something in Spanish that made her giggle.
When Madeleine suspiciously asked what he had said, he told her, I said you
were a shrew and a witch.
Here, drink this, she ordered, ignoring the girl's giggles.
What is it?
Juice.
I don't want
Your body needs help. Drink it.
He was too weak to lift his head without help. She forced half a pint of juice
down his throat, bit by bit, before he quit.
When the little girl left them, Ransom wearily groped for Madeleine's hand,
then said, I'm sorry, Maddie. Hell of a thing for you to wind up waiting hand
and foot on me, cleaning up all my blood and
I don't mind, she interrupted, seeing how his weakness shamed and frustrated
him. I just want you to get better.
I'll be fine, now that we're not on the run.
He was lying, and they both knew it, but she didn't bother to contradict him.
* * * *
He was much worse by morning. He was sweating heavily again, but the fever
wouldn't break.
Madeleine sponged him down again and again, to no avail. He started shaking
with chills, and by mid-morning, delirium had set in. Shivering and twitching
and sometimes struggling violently, he moaned and muttered unintelligibly,
restless and tormented. Sometimes he shouted. Madeleine understood a word here
and there, but none of it seemed connected or made any sense.
The fighting was closer today. She could hear shelling in the distance. Some
of the refugees packed up and moved on, even as new ones streamed into San
Remo in a constant flow.
Maddie... Ransom moaned.
I'm here, she said, as she said every time he called her name. I'm right
here.
His eyes were open this time. He seemed to be looking at her. You've got..
get away...
Shhh... She bathed his hot forehead with a cool cloth.
Please ... safe...
We're safe, she lied, hoping he was too delirious to hear the shelling.
We're safe.
When he fell asleep again, she finally gave in to tears.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Like everyone else that evening, Madeleine heard the helicopter as it
approached San Remo. For a moment, she was afraid they were going to be
bombed. But then she realized it was only one helicopter, and she let herself
hope.
Ransom was so ill by now, she was afraid to leave his side for more than a
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minute or two, so she waited for the children to bring her news. After a half
hour, one of the boys came running back into the schoolroom.
Journalists, the child cried. Foreign journalists! They had flown in from
across the border. There was a camera, the boy told her, and he had waved at
it. He might be on television!
Trust journalists to be on the scene like vultures, Madeleine murmured,
having no particular fondness for the media. However, she felt a glimmer of
hope. Now that someone was reporting the chaos at San
Remo...
She gasped as the realization struck her. Of course! She didn't have to wait
for help to reach Ransom;
she could take him to where the help was. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]