Ghost of Christmas Past

Eight

Eight

 

Davy woke with the dawn—as he always did—and instantly felt… robbed. He had no memory whatsoever of having slept! It seemed that he’d crawled into bed last night, blinked his eyes waiting for Lilly, and opened them to find morning already arrived. Golden sunlight slanted through the windows, casting warm rays across the bed.

He shifted slightly, and cringed.

His entire body ached. His muscles were stiff, and he didn’t particularly want to get out of bed, but his parched throat begged for water and his stomach grumbled angrily. He supposed he could muster the energy to rise for the sake of breakfast.

He glanced down at Lilly curled beside him and a slight smile quirked his dry, chapped lips. The golden red tresses of her hair glowed like rose gold in the sunshine and the messy stands tickled his chest. Her arm stretched across his chest, her pale skin contrasted starkly with his darker flesh, and he reached up to stroke her milky smooth skin.

A little sigh whispered from her lips. She looked happy in sleep. Contented. He wanted to keep her that way.

It occurred to him suddenly that it was Christmas Eve, and all that he had to be grateful for this Christmas humbled him. His wife… a new child… his very life…  The fact that Lilly had taken measures to save him weighed heavily on him. She truly was amazing. He needed to do something to show how much he appreciated her. The words they’d shared last night might help mend the rift between them, but actions spoke far louder than words.

A plan took shape in his mind as he extricated himself from Lilly’s sleeping form. Big Springs was a good-sized town with a great deal to offer—nothing like Charleston where they’d moved from, but nonetheless, Davy was going to give Lilly a Christmas she’d never forget.

* * * *

Lilly tossed in the bed, aware that she was dreaming, but unable to pull herself from the dregs of slumber. Confusing images twisted in her head—Jack Dawes  with a pistol in his hand… Davy falling from his horse…

Lilly gasped, startling awake. Disoriented and unsettled after her bizarre dreams, she blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

The lingering discontent from her slumber slipped away as her vision cleared and honed in on Davy standing beside the door, shirtless. “Davy, you shouldn’t be up and about,” she mumbled sleepily, pushing up from the mattress.

He waved off her concerns with his left hand. “I’m fine.”

Blinking the last of the sleep from her eyes she raked a critical gaze the length of him. He looked well enough, she supposed, but he’d lost a lot of blood and his coloring was entirely too pale. “But the doctor said—”

“I know perfectly well what the doctor said, and I have no intention of overdoing it. I simply went to the front desk for the clothes the sheriff sent over, and now I intend to retrieve you for breakfast.”

As if on cue Lilly’s stomach grumbled. “Breakfast sounds heavenly. I haven’t eaten anything but the bread and cheese I packed to come find you.”

His blue eyes twinkled, and her heart flopped. “Neither have I. The hotel has a restaurant, and I smelled bacon when I was downstairs a few minutes ago. I’ll just need your help getting this shirt on.”

“Of course.” Lilly threw the blankets back and sat, rubbing her eyes.

Davy crossed the room and eased onto the bed beside her. He slid his good arm around her and kissed her sweetly. “Did you sleep well?”