Page 20 of It Happened in the Highlands
“Stevenson was secured for the night, Captain, sure as I’m standing here,” one of the men hurriedly explained. “I watched the lads fasten the straps myself, same as always. We all know how difficult that one can be.”
Jo went down another step.
“Aye, Captain,” the other man said. “Two years we’ve had him here, and everyone knows he’s the one needs watching most.”
“I came out here after checking on everyone,” the first man continued, raking a hand through his hair. “That was not an hour ago. They was all sleeping. I sat at my post here like I always do, night after night. Maybe I shut my eye a wink, but I was right here.”
“And Stevenson’s tam,” the other jumped in. “What do ye make of that? How do ye think the other one got it? He never stirs once he’s abed, and we all know to leave it be.”
Wynne was asking no questions as the men went back and forth in their explanations. Jo looked again to the door. The noises coming from the ward were subsiding.
“I’m thinking this was no accident, Captain. Someone was causing mischief in there.”
“Maybe the rogue slipped past me. Or more likely came in through a window.”
“I’m thinking they wanted Stevenson to go after Barton.”
Jo didn’t think she made a noise, but she must have. Wynne’s head snapped around and he peered in her direction.
“Who’s there?” he demanded, holding the candle up and coming toward the stairs.
Knowing it would be foolish to run away, she stayed where she was. She clutched the front of the robe, closing it tightly against her pounding chest.
Please, she prayed silently. Don’t let Mr. Barton be hurt.
Wynne’s face softened with recognition. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
“Is he hurt? Mr. Barton?” she asked, unable to keep the trembling edge out of her tone. She had to know.
“He’ll have some bruises, I expect. The doctor is seeing to his arm right now to make sure he hasn’t broken a bone. But considering everything, he’s doing well.”
“What happened?”
Wynne looked around them and motioned to the stairs. “This is not the best place to be speaking. Do you mind if we go up?”
Jo turned to take a step, but as she did, the hem of her robe tripped her. She felt his hand grasp her elbow, steadying her until she found her footing. Though his action was an innocent reflex, his touch caused her face to catch fire and her pulse jump. With his hand still on her arm, he lighted their way up the stairs. As they ascended, his closeness filled her head with the scent of night air, whiskey, smoke, and the man. This was the second time he’d touched her after a very long time. It was the touch of a friend, she told herself.
At the top of the stairwell, she paused in the hallway and turned to him.
“Pray tell, what happened?”
As his eyes washed over her and took in her face, her lips, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, she saw a fleeting expression of reminiscence. Then the look was gone.
“We only have one patient at the hospital that we consider potentially dangerous to himself or to others,” he explained. “The man’s name is Stevenson. He’s tended to closely during every waking hour. During the night watch, he’s secured in his bed. And we have attendants who walk the ward regularly throughout the night.”
She began to envision what took place in the ward, but waited for Wynne to expound.
“Stevenson somehow got free of his restraints and attacked another man. The rest of the patients in the ward raised the alarm with their cries.”
“And Charles Barton was the victim of the attack,” she reaffirmed what she’d already heard. “But no one else?”
He nodded. “One or two others tried to intervene, but Stevenson directed his violence at Barton. The victim will be fine. Thankfully, the night attendant entered the melee and others quickly arrived to help. You can visit Barton yourself in the morning, if you like.”
“What was all that about a tam?”
“Stevenson is extremely attached to his hat. Carries it around like a baby. The tam was put on Barton’s bed.”
Cuffe’s words came back to her. She recalled the distraught and fearful expression in the dim light of the stairwell.
