Heaven in His Arms by Lisa Ann Verge Read Free Book Online

are!"
    Genevieve woke abruptly from her doze. She blinked her eyes open and stared blindly up at the bare branches of an apple tree, starting as a yellow-throated warbler flew from its perch with a flurry of wings. All vestiges of sleep fled. She straightened on the wooden bench and swiftly scanned the orchard. Through the fence of knotted tree trunks came a flutter of gray robes.
    " Merde!"
    Her hiding place had been discovered. One of the hospital sisters barreled toward her through the trees, and by the nun's determined stride, Genevieve knew the nun would try to take her back into the hospital. She cursed beneath her breath in a way that would make a Parisian boatman blush, then grasped the edge of the bench and searched for escape. Behind her, the tall, straight logs of a cedar palisade blocked her retreat. In front of her, the nun strode closer. She grasped the red woolen shawl that lay twisted about her hips and stood up. It was too late to get away. She'd have to face the sister and the battle she knew would ensue.
    For four days she had lain in the crowded hall of the Hotel-Dieu while the sisters tended her in her illness. Although fresh food, cool water, and sleep proved strong enough medicine to break her fever, the sisters insisted she remain in the hospital until she fully regained her strength. Genevieve wanted only to leave. She didn't trust her long stretch of luck, and she didn't want to tempt fate any longer by lingering in the Hotel-Dieu. This hospital reminded her of the dreaded Hotel-Dieu in Paris, where once she had been forced to spend several weeks recovering from smallpox. It was a place of death, and now that she had made it to Quebec, she wanted to live.
    The nun halted in front of her. She planted her hands on her formidable hips. "We've been looking for you all morning."
    "I needed the air, Sister Ignatia." Genevieve defiantly inhaled the early autumn scent of moist earth and resinous pines. "It's the first breath of fresh air I've had since I left Le Havre."
    "Do you have any idea what diseases come with the autumn winds in Quebec? And you out here in nothing but a shift!"
    "There's no one here to see me."
    "I'm not concerned about your modesty, I'm worried about your health."
    "There are more diseases in that wretched hall," she said, nodding toward the Hotel-Dieu. "I don't want to catch whatever my five bedmates are suffering from."
    "Then listen to the woman who changed your bedding and fed you broth and wiped you down during your fever. Come inside."
    Genevieve dug the heels of her bare feet into the brown grass. "The sunshine is reviving me."
    "A sharp tongue and a stubborn disposition is no measure of health. The color of your cheeks says you've still got a fever."
    "The color of my cheeks is from the sun. I've been dozing here all morning."
    Sister Ignatia folded her arms in front of her. The hem of her gray gown shook as she tapped one foot. "I wouldn't have bothered looking for you, you insolent girl, if our Reverend Mother hadn' t summoned you.''
    Genevieve took an anxious step toward the nun. For two days she'd been insisting on seeing Mother Superior, ever since her fever broke and she became conscious enough to understand what kind of place she was in. Only the Reverend Mother would have the power to release her over the protestations of the sisters. "Mother Superior has agreed to see me?"
    "She's been waiting all this time while you 'revived' in the sun."
    Genevieve brushed past the nun and raced down a row of trees toward the side entrance of the Hotel-Dieu. She grasped the handle and pulled the door open, holding her breath as she was assaulted by a wave of humid, fetid air. She plunged into the room. The door slammed closed behind her and the sound echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the endless wails of the ailing and the calls for mercy. Genevieve walked swiftly through the two rows of straw-filled mattresses, crossing herself as she passed a priest in black robes