Chapter 3
It took three days for Simpson to emerge from the fever and quell Oliver’s icy, creeping fear that he might succumb. On the third day Oliver entered the guest room first thing, as had become habit, to check on his patient and found the man sitting up in bed watching him with eyes clear of fever, but filled with wariness. Oliver stared for a moment and then turned to close the door. He needed to give himself a moment to find some composure that would stop him from striding over to gather him close. The relief was overwhelming, but hard on its heels came the realisation that he wouldn’t be able to hold him and touch him anymore. He swallowed.
“Simpson. You are looking much better. How do you feel?” He walked briskly to the bed.
“Major?” Simpson was staring at him, clutching the
