A few minutes later they managed to drag Ian underneath the crude tarpaulin-covered shelter. "Take care of him." Ruel turned and staggered away from them toward the bridge.
"Where are you going?" Jane called.
"Kasanpore. Doctor . . ."
"You can barely walk. How can you make it to Kasanpore?"
"No one else. Kartauk can't go," he said jerkily. "Neither can Li Sung . . . crippled."
"What about me?"
"Stop arguing with me." He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes blazing at her. "Just keep Ian alive until I get back."
Jane held her breath as she watched him start across the gorge. The bridge appeared to be still intact, but she couldn't be sure after the punishment it had taken.
Her breath expelled in a rush of relief as Ruel finally reached the bank on the other side. A moment later he was lost to sight around the bend.
Keep Ian alive until I get back.
And how was she going to do that? Jane wondered in despair as she turned to stare down at Ian. He looked as if he was barely clinging to life right now, and it would be hours before Ruel could get back with help. The blanket they had draped over him was already damp and she had no way to keep him dry, no way to build a fire.
And when Ruel returned with help, they would find Kartauk.
She might not be able to keep Ian alive, but there was a chance she could still save Kartauk from Abdar. She turned to Li Sung. "I want you to take Kartauk to Narinth."
"I won't leave you here," Kartauk said.
"Do what I tell you!" She had to pause to steady her voice. "I've lost everything else. I won't lose you to Abdar. I'll tell everyone Li Sung was killed in the train wreck. Perhaps Abdar will think you were on the train and killed too. When you get to Narinth, put up at an inn near the waterfront and contact me when you've arrived."
Kartauk frowned. "I don't think—"
"Stop thinking and do what I tell you. I'll be safer here than you will. It may take you days to get to Narinth on foot."
Li Sung grasped Kartauk's arm. "She's right. There's nothing we can do to help her, and your discovery will only endanger her. I will make sure he is kept safe, Jane."
"I know you will," she said dully. "Good luck."
She turned back to stare down at Ian. At this moment it seemed impossible there could be good fortune anywhere in the world. Poor Ian. She doubted if he would ever see Glenclaren or his Margaret again. When she looked up a few minutes later, Li Sung and Kartauk were gone.
She trudged to the edge of the bridge and looked down at the rails crossing the gorge, then beyond them to the wreckage of the train in the river. Her stomach twisted and the bile rose in her throat. She turned and walked back to the lean-to.
Keep him alive.
It seemed an impossible task, but she had to try to do as Ruel had commanded. She had to salvage something from this horror. She had to save Ian for Ruel. She lay down close to Ian on the wet earth, cuddling close to him, trying to share her warmth.
"No!" They were taking him away from her. Didn't they understand he would die if she didn't keep him warm? "No, you can't . . ."
"Shh, it's all right." Ruel's voice. "They're putting him on a stretcher to carry him over the bridge."
She became conscious of voices, lanterns, movement all around her, and struggled to a sitting position. "Is he still alive?"
"Barely." Ruel's tone was clipped as he rose to his feet and helped her to her feet. "But we have to get him out of this foul weather. Patrick has a wagon waiting on the other side of Sikor Gorge and we'll make better time once we reach there." His gaze searched her face. "You look as pale as Ian. Can you walk across the bridge? There are some ties missing and it's not safe for me to carry you."
"I can walk." She stumbled after the four men carrying Ian, her gaze fixed desperately on the stretcher. "He has to live . . . my fault."
"Don't be ridiculous," Ruel said harshly. "No one's to blame. At first I thought Abdar must have done this, but it seems to me he would have appeared by now, and why would he want to sabotage the train? I'm beginning to think it was only an accident." They reached the other side of the gorge, and he swung her up into his arms. "God, you're shaking yourself to pieces. It's no wonder you're not thinking clearly."
"My fault . . ."
She woke in her bedroom in the bungalow later to find Ruel in a chair beside her bed. He had changed to dry clothes but still looked terrible. Dark circles colored the flesh beneath his eyes, and deep grooves scored either side of his lips.
"Ian?" she whispered.
"Still with us. We were afraid to move him any farther than the bungalow, so Patrick gave up his room and brought a doctor from the fort. Dr. Kendrick's with him now. I suppose he's doing everything he can."
"Of course he is."
He said haltingly, "I want to thank you for helping my brother." He wonderingly repeated the words. "My brother. Do you know I haven't called Ian that since we were boys together? I thought if I could keep him at a distance ..." He closed his eyes. "I ... love him, you know."
"Yes, I could see it whenever you were together."
"Could you? Then maybe he could see it too. God knows I tried hard enough not to admit it. I didn't want to love him. I didn't want to love anyone, but somehow . . ." His eyes opened. "He won't wake up. The doctor says there's not much he can do. Ian might never wake up, just drift away. ..."
"I'm so sorry, Ruel," she said gently.
His eyes were suddenly glittering fiercely. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Because the doctor's wrong. I'm not going to let Ian die."
"But if there's nothing you can do . . ."
"There's always something you can do." He stood up and strode toward the door. "And I'm going to do it."
The door slammed behind him.
Dear God, she loved him. The knowledge that had exploded inside her when she had seen Ruel running down that embankment was thorn-sharp. Wasn't love supposed to be sweet? She felt no sweetness, only a sense of the inevitable. No matter how she had tried to prevent it, her feelings had grown, deepened until she had been forced to face and acknowledge them. She didn't want to feel love for Ruel MacClaren, dammit. He was ruthless, mocking, and self-serving, and the most difficult individual she had ever met.
Ruel is one of the heroes of the world.
Ian had said those words and Ruel had proved him right tonight. If he was sometimes ruthless, he could also be selfless and courageous, giving with no thought for his own safety. As for mockery, it had not been present in the man she had seen a few minutes ago; he had been vulnerable and hurting. An aching sense of helplessness washed over her, and she realized she was feeling Ruel's pain as if it were her own. It was so like him to deny his own helplessness and start moving, struggling to do something, anything.
And she had something to do too.
She lay there steeling herself, sick with dread. Then she threw aside the covers and swung her legs to the floor. She flinched as she stood up, every muscle in her body throbbing with soreness. She ignored the discomfort and moved across the room toward the washstand.