Chapter 52 - Fifty Two
Dawn’s pale light was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Suzy emerged from the woods, a damp cloth clutched in her hand. The events of the previous night still played on a loop in her mind – the terrifying gunfight, Ryan’s injury, and his subsequent collapse.
She had spent the better part of the night tending to him, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. But there was no time for rest. The horses, spooked by the gunfire, had bolted, and she had spent a harrowing hour tracking them down before venturing into the woods to find a stream.
Now, with the chill of the early morning air biting at her exposed skin, she hurried back to the carriage. Relief flooded her when she saw Ryan lying motionless on the makeshift bed. He looked pale, his brow furrowed in discomfort.
She knelt beside him, placing the damp cloth on his forehead. His skin felt hot, burning to the touch. Panic clawed at her throat. He had a fever.
"Ryan," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She gently shook his shoulder, hoping to rouse him.
He stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. Disoriented and clearly in pain, he mumbled incoherently for a moment before focusing on her.
"Duchess?" he croaked, his voice raspy.
"It’s alright," she soothed, her voice calm despite the churning in her stomach. "You have a fever. I went to find some water."
He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped his lips as a wave of pain washed over him. "Easy," she cautioned, gently pushing him back down. "Don’t try to move."
She soaked the cloth again, wiping his face and neck in an attempt to cool him down. His eyes fluttered closed once more, but this time, his breathing seemed to ease a little.
Hunger gnawed at Suzy’s stomach, but the lack of supplies gnawed at her even more. While they were sleeping in the carriage last night, a band of thieves surrounded their carriage. They meant no real harm just wanted money, she gave them the money they have in exchange they guard the carriage through the night.