An Unexpected Widow (The Colorado Brides Series) (9 page)

“I bet not.”

“Hannah!”

My husband’s voice made me jump. “Oh, goodness. He needs something.” I rushed into the kitchen. “What is it?”

“I think I might feel something!”

“Where?”

“My leg.”

I gasped, glancing at Nathan, who had followed me into the house. “Oh, that’s such good news.”

“You should get Doc Caldwell out here. He would know what’s happening to me.” He grinned. “I’d love to be able to walk again.”

I hugged him, tears filling my eyes. “Oh, Frank. This is so wonderful. I’m so happy.”

“I could go to town and get him,” offered Nathan.

“You just came from town. We’ll go tomorrow. We’ll take Frank to see him. Then we can find out more.”

Frank held my hand, squeezing my fingers. “Kiss me, darling.”

My smile could hardly be contained. “I will.” When I stood again, Nathan had gone, not having said one word, which was strange. Perhaps, he didn’t want to watch me kiss my husband.

The promise of happiness was, unfortunately, short-lived. Once we had lifted Frank into the wagon and taken him to Doctor Caldwell the next day, the prognosis hadn’t changed, although he was able to feel a slight tingling in his left leg.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, his spectacles having fallen to the bottom of his nose. “It’s common to feel tingling, but it doesn’t mean sensation will come back fully. Then again, it might be the beginning of a deeper recovery.”

“Well, it’s something at least,” I said.

“It is indeed. I just don't want to give you folks false hope. You keep doing what you’re doing, and let me know if he feels anything more.”

Frank seemed nonplussed. “That’s odd, but I know this is the beginning now. I can sense it. I’ll bounce back, just wait and see.”

“Of course you will,” I said. “Thank you, Dr. Caldwell for seeing us on such short notice.”

“Please stop by whenever you have a question.”

“Thank you. We will.”

Nathan had taken Frank to the wagon, placing him on the wooden bench. I went into the mercantile to purchase tea and sugar, while the men waited for me. When I returned, Nathan had disappeared.

“Where’d he go?”

“We’re going home alone.”

This was a surprise. “But how will I get you down from the wagon?”

“Jerry can help.”

“Where did Mr. Weaver go?”

Frank looked sheepish. “He’s taking care of some business in town.”

“What sort of business?”

“Ahem…it’s of a personal nature.”

I stepped onto the wagon, while he took the reins. “Personal? Is he in the saloon?”

“No.”

Then it hit me. “Oh.”

He’d gone to the brothel! As the wheels began to turn, jolting us into motion, I glanced at the building that stood across the street, seeing clapboard siding that had been painted white. Nathan was in there…removing his clothing, his pants, his shirt, and his shoes. He was touching another woman…holding her in his arms, kissing her. I’d never in my life felt jealousy before, but it had her hooks in me now. During the ride home, disturbing images of what I thought they were doing in that parlour house drifted through my mind. I did not like this one bit.

Chapter Nine

When Frank said he perceived tingles in his right leg, I began to share in his excitement, seeing it as a sign that feeling was slowly returning. To add to this jubilation, the fields were high with corn, and my kitchen garden burst with delicious vegetables. Every day there seemed to be new sensations and palpitations, as Frank regained feeling. He was in such an optimistic mood, that Pastor Bailey gave him the pulpit on Sunday morning, although he had to be seated to read the sermon.

The parishioners, knowing the hardships he had been through, listened with rapt attention, as he spoke about perseverance, citing Exodus 17:9-13. Moses’ challenge was to keep his staff above his head, never letting it drop, in order for the Israelites to prevail. He succeeded in doing this, hour after hour, which necessitated an incredible amount of endurance. The lesson was to never give up, no matter how daunting the task. From the impassioned look on Frank’s face, I knew he believed every word he said. The hope that he would one day walk again was very real.

After the service, people surrounded him, shaking his hand and expressing their gratitude for the moving sermon. A woman brought forth her child, who appeared ill. She was crying.

“Please say a prayer for my boy, Pastor. He’s been sick for so long now.”

The child in question appeared pale; the skin beneath his eyes was darkly colored. Frank held the boy’s hand. “There now. I’m sure he’ll be fine. What’s your name, lad?”

“Brandon,” he rasped.

A look of concern passed over Frank’s features. “You might want to take him to Doc Caldwell, ma’am.”

“I’ve done that. He says there’s nothing he can do.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was hoping a word from you might help. If you could say a little prayer for him.”

“I can do that, but he really should be in bed.” The child, who struggled to stand, began to cough. My husband was seated directly before him. “Does anyone have any water?”

Getting to my feet, I hurried for the small office in the back, pouring fluid from a pitcher into a glass. When I returned, I handed it to the child. “Here you are.” After he had been tended to, his mother took him away. “Oh, goodness. That was successful, Frank. You did a marvelous job with that sermon.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see if Nathan’s available to help you out.” I didn’t have to go far to find him, as he stood outside the church, his hat lowered over his eyes. “He’s ready.” He pushed himself from the building. “May I ask something?”

“Ask whatever you want.”

“Why won’t you stay for the service?”

“It’s not my cup of tea.”

“What’s not?”

“All the God…talk.”

“It’s not all God talk. There are lots of useful things too.”

He brushed past me, murmuring, “Waste of time, I say.”

“Ouf!” I found myself walking into a solid wall of bone and muscle, as Nathan had stopped before me. “Goodness gracious.” Our eyes met.

“I heard what he said. I stood outside listening.”

“You did?”

His smile was imperceptible. “I like what I heard.”

“There might be hope for you after all.”

He waved a finger before my nose. “Don’t put the cart before the horse. There’s a big difference between listening and doing. Don’t expect me to start walking the straight and narrow. It’s not my thing.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

To my shame, we had another moment where our eyes locked and the conversation died, as an undercurrent of energy passed between us. This happened every so often, and it left me feeling almost giddy, but I knew it was sinful. My husband was inside the church waiting for me, and I…stared at another man far longer than what would be considered proper.

“We should go.”

His gaze lowered to my lips. “Yes.”

Sensing danger, I shook myself from the strange fog. “I’ll tell him you’re coming to get him.”

“You do that.”

Inside the building, I took a deep, cleansing breath, squaring my shoulders. “Frank, dear. It’s time we were on our way.”

He was with several people. “I’m being summoned.” His grin was magnanimous. “Thank you, Pastor Bailey, for letting me commandeer the service.”

“It was my pleasure. I was taking notes. I could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

Nathan approached, ready to lift Frank from the chair. Pastor Bailey sprang to action. “Let me help you.”

“One day,” Frank laughed, “I’ll not need this kind of assistance. I’ll run up and down the aisles like a child. Boy, I sure am looking forward to that.” He smiled at me.

Preaching had revitalized Frank, reminding him of how much he enjoyed spreading God’s word and surrounding himself with people. The sensation that had begun in his legs grew by the day, the tingling coming and going, while he discovered he was able to move his little toe. I still had to tend to him, changing his dressings, as he could not use the outhouse yet. He had no feeling in that part of his anatomy. Mrs. Hermosa’s help was invaluable; the spritely woman did laundry nearly all day long, saving me from the chore. This gave me time to be with Frank. His outlook on things had become even more upbeat, thereby increasing my own happiness.

We had taken to daily walks. He sat in the Bath wheelchair, which allowed him some freedom, but I had to push it. It was a cumbersome contraption, clearly intended only for outdoor purposes, but it allowed us to get some air, and the sun was good for Frank.

“Once I’ve fully recovered, I’m taking you to town for a proper dinner.”

“No. My cooking is far better. Plus, it’s a waste of money spending so much on a single meal. I could buy a week’s worth of rice and beans for that cost.”

“Nonsense. You’ve earned a night out.” He squinted in the sun. “We might want to travel back east and see your family.”

I sighed. “That’s not practical.”

“Maybe next spring.”

“If only they’d bring the railroad out this way.”

“Oh, they will, my dear. Denver City is growing rapidly. More miners come everyday. We’re not the only city growing either. Golden City and Boulder City are booming too.”

“All those men seeking treasure.” I glanced at the cornfield; the neatly planted rows ran as far as the eye could see. “Jerry and Nathan did a good job.”

“They did.”

“Will we ever pay them?”

“Of course. As soon as the harvest, after we sell our product.”

“We’ve been lucky with the farming.” I glanced at his legs, which were positioned inside the wheelchair, the knees resting together at an angle. “But, I guess we can’t have everything.”

He caught the direction of my stare. “There will always be challenges in life, my love; you know that. There will always be sickness and accidents. You must remember to be thankful for your blessings. I’ve suffered a bit of a setback, but I shall recover. I’m feeling more every day. I can move my foot now.”

“That is a good thing.”

He took my hand, as I had stopped pushing the wheelchair. “I want to thank you for everything, Hannah.”

“Stop that. It’s not necessary.”

“I’ve put you through hell with worry. I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve no reason to be sorry.”

“I will recover. I’ll give you that baby soon enough. We have our whole lives to make up for these last months. Sometimes, God tests us to see what our mettle is. I do believe this is all in preparation for even bigger things, better things. We’re just so close to the trees, we can’t see the forest.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He squeezed my hand. “I am.”

It was a little over a week later that Frank began to cough. I paid no mind to it at first, thinking it was from all the dust, as it hadn’t rained in a while and it was windy, but then he complained of exhaustion. The coughing progressed to where he was spitting up rusty-colored mucus. I was so concerned, I instructed Nathan to go to town to get the doctor. When he arrived, his wife, Rhoda, accompanied him.

“Oh, Hannah,” she said, her face a mask of concern. “What’s happened now?”

“I don’t know. He’s not well.”

“Let me make you tea, my dear. This is the last thing you need.”

While Dr. Caldwell examined Frank, I sat with Rhoda, chatting and sipping tea. Mrs. Hermosa was outside, weeding the vegetable garden, while we waited for news.

“There’s pneumonia going around at the moment.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s dreadful. Do you think he might have it?”

“I certainly hope not. It’s more than likely a seasonal illness.”

My woman’s intuition told me otherwise. I couldn’t shake the feeling that another challenge was on the way, an even greater one than when he fell from the roof. When Doctor Caldwell appeared in the kitchen, I knew my fears were going to be confirmed.

“Mrs. Clark,” he said tonelessly. “I’m afraid I’ve some bad news. Your husband is suffering from pneumonia. I can hear it in his lungs.” I stared at him, not being able to speak. “I’m going to proceed with the bloodletting, but from my experience, that only helps in rare occasions. I’ve some medicine you can give him three times a day, but other than a hot water bottle for his chest, there isn’t much I can do.”

Getting to my feet, I summoned strength I didn’t possess. “I’m…this is awful.”

“Yes, my dear. This is the last thing that poor man needed. I’m encouraged by the feeling he has in his legs and the movement of his foot, but if his breathing gets worse…there won’t be much we can do.”

I wouldn’t cry in front of these people. “Thank you.”

“Isn’t there something that can be done, Samuel? This family has already been through so much.”

“Nothin’s fair about life, my dear. Nothing at all.” His expression was grim. “I need to get on with the bloodletting. Excuse me.”

After the leaches had been applied and removed, Dr. Caldwell and his wife left. Mrs. Hermosa had come in from the garden, and I had told her about Frank’s diagnosis.

She had said, “I make him soup. I have a cure for this.”

My eyes flew wide. “You do?”

“Oh, yes. Family recipe. I go get herbs and make this.”

It was silly of me, but I clung to those words, putting all my trust and faith in her. She would restore Frank’s health. I was certain of it. But, time was not our friend, and, as the days wore on, his coughing became worse, the pain in his chest nearly unbearable. I’d given him laudanum, mixing the drug with water. This eased his suffering considerably, but nothing improved. I was far too busy to dwell on these stark facts, changing his dressings, bathing him, reading to him, and holding his hand at night. I’d brought in some blankets and slept on the floor next to him. This led to many sleepless nights, as I lay there listening to the deep rattle of his chest, his breathing wheezy.

He’d not been able to eat properly, the skin stretched over his bones making him appear far older than he was. It was a struggle for him to drink water, Mrs. Hermosa and I having to funnel it into his throat. He began coughing up blood shortly after, with a greenish type of mucus. The look on Maria’s face said it all; her unhappiness was evident in the deep lines on her forehead. She had worked almost as hard as I had, making soups and medications all day long. When one concoction failed, she tried another and another…until all that remained was the laudanum.