Colorado Dawn (29 page)

Sam laid down his fork and knife and sat back, staring at Phin. Finally he shrugged. “What were you doing in the dining car this morning?”

Phin stopped chewing, his eyes growing wary.

A tickle of unease feathered under Eldora’s breastbone. With Phin you never knew what he might have been up to. She gripped her napkin in her lap.

“I didn’t know if we’d get breakfast this morning, so I snitched some bread for Celeste and Tick. Figured me and Eldora could go hungry, but the little kids needed something to eat.”

Tears pricked Eldora’s eyes.

Sam cleared his throat and passed Phin the basket of biscuits.

E
ldora throttled the handle of her valise as if trying to squeeze the life out of it, numb to the continual rocking and swaying, the clacking and clatter of the train. The falling dusk through the windows revealed the same sodden, flat landscape they had seen for miles.

Tick still slept on the settee beside her as he had all day, rousing every once in a while to drink some broth and give her a smile that was a mere shadow of its usual self. Celeste turned the pages of a
Harper’s Magazine
Sam had dug up somewhere for her, and Phin sprawled in a chair, flipping a poker chip he always had on him, making it walk across the backs of his fingers and appear and disappear. Had to keep his fingers nimble, he claimed.

“Salina! Next stop!” The conductor’s voice came through the door, still with a cranky edge.

She supposed she couldn’t blame him, being subjected to life with Phin, but the boy hadn’t budged from the railcar all day. By now the conductor should be over such things.

“Salina!”

Salina, Kansas. Sam had announced after breakfast they would be stopping over there. “I pressed the conductor pretty hard, and he finally said the best doctor between Topeka and Denver was in Salina. Tick should be under a doctor’s care. We’ll stop there, and you can get him looked at.”

His grave expression pressed Eldora’s heart until guilt seeped into every corner. Defensive words flew out. “I’m doing the best I can. I know he needs a doctor, but I can’t afford one. I have no money for doctors or medicines or staying over in a strange town. I have to get the children to Denver. Maybe they’ll have a doctor there who can treat him.”

“Tick never should’ve left St. Louis, as delicate as he is. Didn’t the orphanage have a doctor?”

Phin sat up. “No doctors. Sometimes we’d get a dose of castor oil or the like, but I never saw no doctor there. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if old Korbin wasn’t skimming the donations and pocketing the cash himself. Be easy enough to do, if nobody was checking up on him.”

Eldora shook her head and frowned. “Phin, that’s a thoroughly scurrilous remark. You have no proof Mr. Korbin was embezzling funds.”

Phin cocked his head to the side and appraised her. “You always talk like you swallowed a dictionary whenever you’re mad at me. Why don’t you just say things plain?”

“Fine. I’ll give it to you plain. Stop talking about things you know nothing about. Keep your mouth shut, and do as you’re told.” Eldora regretted her sharp tone the instant the words flew out of her mouth. Here she was, scared to death to be dumped in a strange town with no money or means, and she was taking it out on Phin, who was probably not so far off the mark with his assessment of Mr. Korbin’s financial finagling.

Sam rose and shrugged into his coat. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He shot one warning glance at Phin and slipped out the door.

Eldora fretted the entire time he was gone. The little bit of money Mr. Korbin had given her wouldn’t last a day, much less cover an expensive doctor’s visit. She had nothing of value to sell to gain the funds. Her only recourse lay in spending the coins to send a wire to the orphanage asking for more money. And what would she do if they denied her request? The train would be gone, she would have no money, and they would have to wait two days for the next train before continuing their journey. At least their tickets to Denver would still be good, but how would she feed the children in the meantime, and what about Tick? Sam was right when he said Tick needed a doctor, but right or not, Sam’s words wounded Eldora. She was doing the best she could. She’d like to see him do better in her place.

Sam breezed through the door, shaking droplets of water off his coat and hat. “Salina coming up. Are you all packed?”

She couldn’t really blame him for wanting to be rid of them. In only twenty-four hours she and the children had erupted into his life like a firework. He’d been involved in several unpleasant scenes and been forced to share his private car. His quiet return home had turned into a traveling circus. “I’ve got everything.” And precious little it was, too. Skimpy, well-worn night clothes for each of them, and an extra pair of stockings for her and Celeste. At least she could clothe Tick in two nightshirts, since Phin scorned nightwear, preferring to sleep in his pants and shirt. They would be indescribably filthy by the time they reached Denver, if they ever did. Eldora was beginning to despair of arriving there with all three children.

The train jerked to a stop in the rail yard.

“I want to thank you for taking care of the children and me. I know we’ve put you to considerable trouble.” She rose. “You’ve been most kind. I hope you have more pleasant travels on the remainder of your journey.” Though she kept her voice calm, panic thrust against her windpipe and accelerated her heart. Cold rain splattered the windows. How was she going to get Tick off the train? Celeste would have to carry the valise, and she and Phin could trade off carrying the boy. Though she hated to ask for anything more, she forced herself, for Tick’s sake, to say the words. “Would it be too much to ask if we could take one of the blankets with us? Tick’s coat is less than adequate, and I need to keep him warm and dry.” Not to mention if they had to spend the night holed up somewhere in a barn or alley, they could all huddle under it.

Sam’s eyebrows rose, and he used his thumb to push back his hat. Water droplets dotted the shoulders of his sheepskin-lined jacket and glistened on his ruddy cheeks. “A blanket? Of course he can keep the blanket. What are you talking about? You don’t think I’m just going to toss you off at the depot and go on ahead without you?” His raised eyebrows darted down, and his expression darkened. “What kind of man do you take me for? Leaving a penniless girl and three kids to fend for themselves.” He stuck his hands on his waist and glared at her. “Give Phin that bag, and take Celeste’s hand. I’ll carry the boy. We’re all heading into town. I’ve arranged for the railcar to be put into a siding.”

“But Mr. Mackenzie, I can’t—”

“Don’t you think we’ve gotten beyond formal names? I answer to Sam.” He stooped and lifted Tick into his arms. “Make sure he’s well covered.”

Eldora adjusted the blankets, buffaloed by his commanding manner. She should protest that they couldn’t take advantage of his generosity any more, that he’d done enough already, but his set jaw and forbidding stare kept her quiet. She took up the valise and Celeste’s hand and nodded to Phin to follow Sam out onto the platform.

“You don’t have to do what he says, you know. I can take care of us without him.” Phin’s dark eyes narrowed, the black lashes almost touching.

Eldora shook her head. “We have to think of what’s best for Tick. He needs a doctor. We should be thanking Mr. Mackenzie, not resenting his provision.”

“You can thank him all you want, but you wait and see. He’ll get tired of playing ‘pat-the-head-of-the-poor-orphan’ and he’ll scamper. Then it will be just us again.”

Though she didn’t want to agree, she knew from experience that people often tired of good works long before the need for them ended. Benefactors started out on fire, well-intentioned and full of enthusiasm, volunteering and donating. But as soon as anyone started counting on them, they tired of their charitable works and moved on, leaving in their wake needy hearts that grew wary of trusting.

Her thoughts pushed at her like the stiff wind as they left the depot and walked up the street. Phin took the valise and tugged his cloth cap down tight. Celeste anchored her scarf over her face and leaned into the gale. Rain gusted and pelted them, first from one direction and then another. Sam kept his head bent, checking over his shoulder every few moments.

At last they reached the front porch of a brick building. A sign instructed them to enter and walk upstairs to the doctor’s office. The quiet calm of the entryway made Eldora’s ears ring. She let go of Celeste’s hand, and with chilled fingers, she swiped at the raindrops on her cheeks.

“This way. Hope the doc’s in.” Sam’s boots thumped on the treads, and they all followed him. Tick didn’t stir, his face tucked into Sam’s shoulder. At the top of the stairs, Sam stepped back to allow Eldora to precede him into the office.

The smell of carbolic and licorice wrapped around them, along with the starchy smell of cotton and the tang of vinegar. Eldora guided Celeste to the settee. “Phin, you can set the bag here by this table. Stay with Celeste while we’re with the doctor.”

He shrugged and nodded, shoulders slouched.

Sam knocked on the connecting door.

A shadow moved behind the rippled, frosted glass, and the door opened. A young man about Sam’s height wiped his hands on a cloth and smiled. “Hello, I’m Dr. O’Kelly. You just caught me. I was about to head for home. What can I do for you?” He noted Tick in Sam’s arms and stepped back to allow them to enter. “You and your wife can both come in. How old is your son, and what seems to be his trouble?”

Surprise shot through Eldora, followed by red-hot embarrassment. Her tongue refused to say anything, and she stood there, feeling stupid.

Sam, easing Tick onto the examining table, jerked upright and spun around. “We’re not married.”

At the doctor’s raised eyebrows, Eldora found her voice. “What he means to say is Tick isn’t his son. He’s not my son either. Tick’s an orphan.”

“Tick?”

“His given name is Michael, but everyone calls him Tick. I’m taking him from an orphanage in St. Louis to one in Denver, and Mr. Mackenzie has been kind enough to help.”

“I see.” The doctor peeled back the blankets, and Tick opened his eyes, giving a wispy smile. Then came what seemed hundreds of questions from the physician as he poked and prodded.

Some she could answer; some Tick supplied. Sam remained silent, arms crossed, leaning against a bookcase crammed with books and bottles and jars.

When Dr. O’Kelly listened to Tick’s heart, first with his ear against the boy’s chest and then with an instrument, his face grew grave.

The clock ticked on the wall and then chimed six times. Eldora’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d been too anxious to eat anything at lunchtime.

The doctor ignored everything, closing his eyes. Furrows creased his forehead.

Tick’s eyes rounded and locked onto Eldora’s, and his narrow, bare chest rose and fell like a scared rabbit’s. A faint bruise hovered over his breastbone where Phin had hit him that morning. His vulnerability made Eldora want to snatch him up and hold him tight.

Finally, the examination was over. Dr. O’Kelly patted Tick on the head and dug in a jar on his desk, producing a peppermint stick. “Here you go, young fellow. Why don’t you climb down and go eat this in the waiting room? I’d like to talk to your”—he stopped and tilted his head toward Sam and Eldora—“to your friends here.”

Tick nodded, his hair falling across his brow.

When the door closed behind him, the doctor stuffed the listening tool into his pocket and sat in the chair behind the desk. “Please, sit down.”

Eldora’s knees felt like putty, but she managed to get to a chair. O’Kelly’s grave expression struck fear deep in her heart for the little boy.

“I won’t beat around the bush. You’ve got a walking miracle there. I am surprised that he’s gotten to the age of seven without treatment. Tick’s got cardiac arrhythmia. Dizziness, weakness, tiredness, the fainting, they all point to it, and from what you say, his heart has stopped twice. That someone has been able to revive him with a heart punch even once is amazing.”

“What is cardiac arrhythmia?” Eldora bit her bottom lip.

“In layman’s terms, it’s an irregular heartbeat. In Tick’s case, his heart beats unusually fast, and from what I can tell, not effectively. His heart is beating so rapidly the blood hasn’t time to be properly oxygenated before it is pushed through his system. He is often short of breath, and when he gets excited this is exacerbated.”

Sam leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs. “What can we do for him?”

“He needs medication. I’m going to prescribe digitalis.” He frowned. “The medicine should slow his heart rate and strengthen the heartbeats. Once he goes on the medication, he will need to stay on it. He’s had this heart condition for as long as he can remember, so it isn’t likely to just go away as he grows. Digitalis is what he needs.”

She rolled the strange word around in her head. Though relieved there was some treatment to help Tick, her mind staggered. How would she afford the medication? Would the orphanage be willing to pay for it? And how would Tick ever be adopted? Who would take on a child who needed medication for the rest of his life?

“I’ve never given digitalis to so young a patient before, so I’d like to observe him for one night, possibly two, depending on the results. I can either watch him at your place of residence or admit him to the hospital.”

Nodding, Sam said, “We’re fresh off the train, Doc. Haven’t even taken time to get rooms at a hotel. Maybe the hospital would be the best place.” He looked at Eldora for her opinion.

Her throat closed, and her eyes burned. Hospitals were worse than orphanages. The thought of Tick lying in some high, white bed, all alone in a vast room of sick people, made her chest cave in. But what else could they do? She nodded.

Emerging from the examination room, her steps were wooden. Tick had broken the candy stick into three pieces. Her heart warmed at his generosity. Celeste hastened to jerk her scarf back over her face, but Eldora’s quick glance at the doctor showed he had seen her deformity. Phin shoved the last bit of his candy into his mouth and crunched it, releasing a minty aroma into the air.