"Perhaps it's only temporary. Perhaps the doctor is wrong."
"God, I hope so." Ruel turned away and moved heavily across the room. "I've got to get back to him. I don't want him to wake up and find no one there."
She watched him go back into the bedroom, tears stinging her eyes. In the past weeks, as they had labored to save Ian, she had learned Ruel was much more than the sensual mandarin she had feared. He was also a man who experienced pain and discouragement and could show gentleness as well as strength. She wanted to go after him, comfort him, try to ease the pain she sensed.
"Jane."
She turned to see Patrick standing in the doorway, his face flushed, his manner awkward. "I heard at the club Ian is doing better. I came by to see if there is anything you need."
She shook her head.
"Food? Medicine? We still have a little money left in the cash fund, don't we?"
"Ruel's seeing to everything."
"Oh." He still stood there, turning the brim of his hat in his big hands. "Well, if there's anything . . . Let me know. . . ."
"There's nothing you can do." She paused and then burst out, "Ian may never walk again."
"No," he whispered, stricken.
She nodded jerkily. "It's not fair. You don't know him. He's such a gentle man, such a good man—" Her voice broke.
Patrick was suddenly across the room, gathering her in his arms. "It's all right." His hand cupped her head, smoothing her hair. "Don't cry, Jane."
It wasn't all right. She wasn't sure anything would be all right again, but Patrick's arms were strong, loving. How many times had she yearned for Patrick to hold her in affection like this?
"That's my girl," he said soothingly. "That's my Jane."
She gave a tremulous sigh and pushed him away. "I'm sorry. I know this kind of thing makes you feel awkward."
"No, I'm the one who is sorry. I've been a terrible fool." Patrick smiled with an effort. "But you've forgiven me, haven't you?"
"It's not my place to forgive—" She broke off and said wearily, "I don't know if I can forgive you or not."
"We've been together too long to harbor bad feelings." He paused and then said in a rush, "I don't like to bring you more bad news, but I'm afraid you're going to have to leave the bungalow by the end of the month. The maharajah has rescinded the lease."
She shook her head. "We can't leave here until Ian is well enough to be moved."
"The maharajah wants us out of Kasanpore, Jane."
"I don't care what he wants," she said fiercely. "I'll not leave while Ruel and Ian need me. If you want to help, find a way to persuade the maharajah to let us stay."
"I'll do my best." Patrick's smile was strained. "Maybe if I go through Colonel Pickering and ask him to intercede ... he seems to have a liking for Ian MacClaren."
"Do whatever you have to do."
He nodded, still hesitating. "I've been thinking about what we're going to do after we leave here, Jane. Perhaps we should go back to America and start again. It's a long way and maybe no one will hear about—"
"Not now. I don't want to think of anything but Ian right now."
He nodded. "I understand. But you'll see, it may take a while, but everything will be the same as before."
She looked at him in disbelief. "You're wrong."
"Why do you say that?" Anxiety flickered over his face. "You won't leave me? I need you, Jane. We need each other. We're family."
It was the closest he had ever come to saying the words she so desperately wanted to hear. Why did it have to come now? She didn't answer him directly. "You'd better go back to the club and talk to Colonel Pickering."
He opened his mouth to speak and then turned away. "If there's anything else I can do, let me know, darlin'." He hesitated and then reluctantly turned back again to face her. "There's something else you should know. The maharajah asked Colonel Pickering to have one of his engineers conduct an investigation of the train wreck."
Her gaze flew to his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why should you have to worry about such matters? I don't think Pickering will bother you with questions. I've taken care of everything."
"What did you tell him, Patrick?"
His gaze slid away from her. "It was better that he thought, that they all thought that—"
"Answer me!"
"I told him you ordered the rails." He rushed on quickly, "I had to do it. The maharajah was holding me to blame. Don't you see? They might accuse me of being a fool for trusting a decision like that to a woman but not for negligence or fraud. You can't be hurt by this. I might even be able to save something from this mess for us to—"
"You lied about me?"
"Stop looking at me like that. I told you, Pickering's engineer looked at those rails and knew that—"
She couldn't believe it. He had not only done the unthinkable, he was making her shoulder the sole responsibility for that hideous night. "It's not fair." Her voice shook with anger. "You had no right to make me take the entire blame."
"Look, darlin', in a few weeks we'll be away from this place and be able to forget all about it."
"Tell them the truth!"
"It's not the thing to do. Just don't—"
"If you don't tell Colonel Pickering, I will."
"No!" He tried to temper the sharpness of his tone. "Where's your loyalty, girl?"
"Where's your honor, Patrick?"
His tone turned soft, wheedling. "You made me a promise a long time ago. Are you breaking it now?"
She stared at him in disbelief. "What are you saying?"
"I took you out of that place and gave you a respectable life. I gave you a chance to be more than a tentcity whore like your ma. You said you'd always do what I wanted."
"I thought I'd paid that debt."
He flushed but repeated, "You made me a promise."
She felt her eyes sting as she gazed at him. Lost hope, lost faith. If she asked him now, he might even admit he was her father, he might say anything she wanted him to say to save himself.
She would not ask him. "I'll keep my promise, Patrick."
He looked relieved. "You promise you won't tell anyone? No one at all?"
Each word he spoke was like a spike driven into her. "No one. I'll take the sole blame. If anyone asks me, I'll say I ordered the rails."
"It's for the best, darlin'."
"But we're paid in full, Patrick. I owe you no more debts."
"Of course you don't. We can start again, clear and fresh."
"We're not going to start again." Somehow she managed to keep her tone even. "I don't want to see you again, Patrick."
He appeared stricken. "You don't mean that."
"I mean it. I've never meant anything more since that day I made you take me away from Frenchie's." She turned her back on him and walked away.
She kept the tears from flowing until she closed the door of her room. The dream was over. It had been a foolish dream anyway. She had no need of a father. She had always had Li Sung to help her through the hard times.
But, dear God in heaven, it hurt.
"Come in." Abdar smiled as he beckoned Zabrie to enter. "You must not be frightened."
Zabrie hesitated, glancing warily from Abdar to Pachtal before slowly coming forward into the reception chamber. "You are not angry with me?" She rushed on, the words tumbling out. "It was no fault of mine. Li Sung lied to me. That foul dog deserved his death in that gorge. I had no idea the information I gave you was false."