It had been almost three weeks since Beth had found John at the Humphrey's front door. At some point during that time, they had all become emotionally invested in the stranger's recovery. From the doorway of the room, Thomas Thorne watched the Humphrey family as they watched the patient swing his legs down from the bed. The injured leg was still in a brace, making the movement cumbersome, but no one moved to help him. Like a baby bird emerging from its shell that could not be disturbed.
Once upright, the crutch bearing his body weight in lieu of his damaged leg, John immediately asked to go outside. His eagerness was met with claps and hoots of laughter from the Humphreys, and Matthew went so far as to slap him across the shoulder. A movement which almost sent the man toppling and ruined the moment before it had even properly begun.
They were all unusual people, Thomas decided, to be so... Kind? Compassionate? He wasn't sure what the word was.
He realised he was frowning when his gaze met Vincent's. The man was looking at him evenly, the only other person in the room not watching John take his first few staggered steps, and his gaze was so intense that Thomas had the urge to cover up. Instead, he let his easy smile slide into place, clutching a hand to his chest and feigning emotion.
"Oh, I feel like a proud mother hen!"
Matt was the only one who laughed.
With a shake of her head, Beth moved towards the door, shepherding Thomas, Matt and Vincent out ahead of her. John followed after, moving with the infinite patience of a man who knew how painful it would be to fall, and then the remainder of the Humphrey siblings filed out. Phil was practically bouncing, her steps surely outnumbering John's ten to one as she zipped back and forth gleefully.
"Phil, be careful!" Beth cautioned, watching in alarm as the little girl's feet danced around the precariously balanced man.
She was not alone in her concern. Next time she passed him, Bart swung out an arm, catching her around the waist and upending her over his shoulder effortlessly. Phil erupted in giggles, thrashing too and fro in a weak escape attempt. Beth shook her head, smiling; it was beyond understanding how this same child read medical journals for fun.
Though John was slow moving, the only difficulty he encountered was the few steps off their portico. Here, he accepted Simon's shoulder, keeping his balance as he hopped his way down. Then he stopped still. And breathed.
"I can't say with certainty," he said after a long minute, "but I doubt I've ever been this happy to be outside in my life!"
The others laughed and smiled, and Beth drew her hands to her heart, trying to hold the warmth that had blossomed. John turned slowly – disjointedly – surveying their house and driveway. Beth tried to see what he saw.
The Germaine Estate was old, but very well kept. The manor was constructed from a beige stone, with thick columns stretching from the portico to the top of the second story. Almost every second metre of the front façade bore a window, and as a light breeze picked up the curtains billowed elegantly.
The wind picked at Beth's hair, snatching a few wisps free and throwing them at her eyes. She rotated slightly, using the breeze to her advantage to tuck the strands back behind her ears, and coming face to face with the entrance to the gardens. Her gardens. From where she stood, all she could see was the iron archway that had the beginnings of an ivory vine wrapping around it.
Whether she moved or John did, they were standing side by side.
"What's through there?" he asked quietly, bobbing his head at the arch.
"The gardens."
She could feel his eyes on her. Eventually he moved forward, hobbling away from her. "Where are you going?"
YOU ARE READING
Husband Wanted (HC #1)
Historical FictionElizbeth Anne Humphrey wants a husband. Her expectations are not outlandish; all she asks is that he be reasonably handsome, reasonably wealthy and completely kind. Her brothers have offered their assistance, and it's given her hope that perhaps th...
