by Barbara Goss
“Dr. Wadsworth!” Elsie said, running to the stairway. “Come quick! Conner’s burning up with a fever.”
“Are you sure?” He made it to the bottom of the stairs and set his suitcase down. “I’m to catch a train in ten minutes. How much of a fever does he have? I mean, how hot is he?”
Elsie gave him a confused look. “How would I know that? He collapsed, and he’s hot to the touch.”
The doctor pulled out his pocket watch. “Dang trains are never on time. I’ll take a quick look at him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
As they walked, Elsie remembered Conner’s prized piece of equipment. “Conner has a thermometer.”
“A thermometer? I’ve never used one, but I hear they’re very accurate.”
Elsie opened the clinic door and said, “I’ll get his bag.”
She led the doctor to Conner’s room, and while he bent over to examine her husband, she fished around in his bag until she’d found the velvet box. She handed it to Wadsworth.
After taking Conner’s temperature, the doctor slid into the chair beside the bed and shook his head.
“How high is it?” Elsie asked.
“One hundred and four. Can you and Bertie get me some cold water and rags?”
Bertie and Elsie spent the night sponging Conner down, leaving the room when Wadsworth cooled his private areas. In this way, they brought his temperature down to one hundred and two.
“I’ll be fine, Doc,” Conner said breathlessly.
Doc Wadsworth shook his head. “Not anytime soon. You, young man, have a case of the measles.”
“Measles!” Bertie and Elsie said at the same time.
The doctor peered into Conner’s eyes, lifting the lids with his fingers. “It looks like you never had them as a child.” The doctor peered at Elsie and Bertie over his spectacles. “Have you both had them?”
Elsie nodded. “I had them when I was six.”
“I had them when I was about the same age,” Bertie said.
“Thank goodness for that,” Wadsworth said. “At my age, I can only take care of one patient at a time.”
Bertie didn’t stay at Hazel’s. She admitted to Elsie that it had been an excuse to leave her and Conner alone, but she stayed to help Elsie nurse Conner. Elsie kept sponging him down, although his fever had dropped to one hundred and one. “Now, who has the freckles?” she said, trying to joke with him while she bathed him.
Conner looked down at his arms and chest, dappled with red dots. “Yes, but mine will go away.”
Elsie smacked him lightly with the cloth, but he grabbed it and pulled her closer. “And don’t forget—we still have an important date.”
She laughed and pulled the cloth from him. “We’ve had a long enough wait. People in town will wonder when they see I’m not with child yet.”
“Child?” Conner gave her a puzzled look.
“Yes. You do know how they’re made, right?”
“I don’t want children. I wrote that on my questionnaire and underlined it.”
“And I wrote that I wanted a house full of children.”
“I don’t know who messed up our questionnaires, but I’m serious: no children.”
Elsie felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to be a mother. She continued to sponge Conner down, but she remained silent on the matter.
Here she was, stuck out in a remote western town, married to a man who had yet to make love to her and didn’t want children. Her life was just full of disappointments. She wrung out her cloth, hung it on a clothes hanger to dry, and turned to leave the room, but Conner sat up, caught her hand, and pulled her closer to the bed.
“We still have Taffy. I thought she was supposed to be your cat, but she sleeps at my side every night. If you want, we could get another cat. I’m starting to like them.”
Elsie gave him a weak smile. “We’ll talk about this when you’re better.”
Chapter Seventeen
It took three weeks before Conner felt like himself. At breakfast one morning, he said to Bertie, “I hear Hazel is feeling sick again.”
Elsie noticed a confused look pass across Bertie’s face before a look of dawning appeared. “Oh, yes. I plan to over this afternoon and perhaps stay the night.”
“Give her our regards,” Conner said.
Elsie tried to hide her smile until Bertie turned back to the stove.
“Your dinner will be in the oven,” she said over her shoulder.
The clinic wasn’t too busy that day, and when Elsie had to walk past Conner, he moved close enough for their shoulders or arms to touch, and Elsie got goosebumps each time. They also exchanged glowing looks. Both looked forward to finally consummating their marriage.
At six o’clock, Conner put up the closed sign. It read “Closed” at the top and in smaller letters beneath that, “In an emergency, knock loudly.”
Conner turned off the lights as Elsie put away the last tool. He held the door to the kitchen open. “Shall we have dinner?”
“I’m starving,” Elsie replied. She opened the oven to remove a beautifully browned beef roast surrounded by carrots, a bowl of gravy, a dish of mashed potatoes, and a piece of chicken meant for her.
Conner lit the candles Bertie had set on the old wooden kitchen table.
“This is heavenly,” Elsie said. “I would like a dining room in our new house, though.”
“Hey, we agree on something.”
Elsie laughed as she poured the tea that Bertie had steeped and kept warm on the stove.
Conner sliced the roast. He put the chicken on Elsie’s plate and four slices of beef on his, then dished up the potatoes and gravy. “How about we go to the builder’s tomorrow and ask if we can add a dining room to our plan?”
Elsie nodded between bites of food.
“Remember,” Conner said, “we agreed on four bedrooms, a sitting room, and a large kitchen. If you want a dining room, I’m sure the builder can add it on. The house frame is up, but it shouldn’t be difficult to add on a dining room off the kitchen.”
“Don’t forget the two porches.”
Conner smiled. “They should be there already. We need to take a ride out there soon and check it out.”
When they finished eating, they carried their plates to the sink and put the left-over food in the root cellar.
Conner clapped his hands together. “I think we’re done here. I’m feeling very tired. How about you?”
Elsie faked a yawn. “Yes. I think turning in early is a great idea.”
Conner carried an oil lamp to his room. “Did you move your things into my room like I asked?”
“I did.”
“So, now it’s our room.”
They walked into their room hand in hand and closed the door.
Once inside, Conner took Elsie into his arms. “I love you so much I’m bursting with it.”
Elsie smiled. “Show me.”
When Elsie awoke, Conner’s side of the bed was empty, but he’d left a note on his pillow. She picked it up and read: “I love you, darling wife.” Elsie smiled. Their marriage was now real, and she felt truly and thoroughly loved, but one thing bothered her: Conner had refused to leave his seed in her. He’d made sure of it, even during their torrid passion. It just didn’t seem natural. She wanted to be a mother. How could she persuade him to relent on that?
Conner continued with their love-making, but he never released his seed in her, and she felt saddened each time.
She was sitting on a large stump in the yard one Sunday afternoon when Bertie returned from her weekly visit with Hazel, and she joined her.
“How’s Miss Hazel doing?”
“She’s much better. We went for a walk today. She’s gotten good with her cane.” Bertie touched Elsie’s chin and pulled it toward her. “All right—what’s wrong? Did you and Conner have a spat?”
“Oh, no. Far from it, Bertie. We’re so much in love.”
Bertie studied her. “Something’s amiss. Is there a problem with
your new home?”
Elsie shook her head and put on her best forced smile. “It’s nearly ready to move into. I think we’ll be moving in a month or so. Adding the dining room slowed things down—but we’re in no hurry.”
“What’s bothering you, then?”
“Bertie,” Elsie blurted quickly before she’d lost her nerve, “Conner doesn’t want to have children, and I want them so badly.”
“I see. Hmm… that can certainly be a problem. Usually, couples discuss these things before marriage but, of course, the way you two married, it was impossible. You did add to your questionnaire that you wanted children, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Ever since I played with dolls as a child, I couldn’t wait to become a mother.”
Bertie rubbed her temple. “Oh, dear.”
“What, Bertie?”
“I think it may be because of Mary.”
“Mary?”
“She died in childbirth. Maybe he is afraid of losing you, too.”
Elsie knew at that moment that Bertie was right. “I thought it was me, that he perhaps didn’t love me enough to want to have children with me. It never dawned on me it might be just the opposite: he loves me too much to allow me to have a baby, and he’s afraid of losing me. What should I do, Bertie?”
“I don’t have an answer for you, but I wish I did. If I didn’t know how stubborn Conner could be, I’d suggest you convince him that something like that happening twice is nearly impossible, but he’d never buy that.”
“I see how good he is with our children patients. He loves them, and he is so patient with them.”
Bertie took a stray piece of hair from Elsie’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “I shouldn’t say this—I was told to never give marital advice, especially since my husband left me for the gold fields twenty years ago, so what do I know about marriage?—but didn’t you tell me once, when we were polishing the silver, that you had a bad temper?”
“I’ve been known to explode occasionally.” Elsie chuckled.
“Maybe—just maybe—Conner needs you to explode. Get angry.”
“I am angry, Bertie. I just love him too much to start an argument with him. I could never hurt him. He’s been so good to me, and he loves me. How could I get angry with him for loving me too much to want to see me die in childbirth?”
Bertie shrugged. “Just like a pot of water boils so hard it flips its lid, sometimes people need to let off steam and have a good argument to settle things.”
Conner turned over in bed after having made sweet love to his wife. He wanted more than anything to make their lovemaking complete, but he couldn’t risk it. Women died in childbirth all the time, and usually with their first child. He never thought he’d love again, but this time, it was different. He loved his wife with an intensity he’d never known before.
He felt Elsie toss restlessly beside him. He’d always snuggled with her afterward, but this time, he felt like he was cheating his wife out of loving her properly.
Conner turned and took Elsie in his arms. “I’m sorry, Elsie.”
Elsie gazed up at him in the moonlight. “Why did you turn your back on me after we made love?”
“Because I’m ashamed of the way I have to do it. It’s not something I want to do. I’d give anything to... well, it just can’t be.” He stroked her cheek. “I never thought, when I first met you, that I’d feel the way I do about you. You’ve wormed your sweet way into my heart.” He kissed her forehead. “You don’t realize how much you mean to me.”
“Is it because I saved your life?”
“No, because I saved yours when Frank attacked you. When I was sick, you nursed me and never left me—even when I vomited all over you.”
They both laughed.
Elsie squeezed his hand. “Do you love me enough to give me anything I want?”
He kissed her lips gently. “Anything.”
“I want a child.”
Conner’s arm loosened around her. He thought hard about his answer. “I’ll give you anything else your heart desires.”
“I want to move into our new home and start a family. We planned the house for a family, Conner. As a child, I played with dolls, and I couldn’t wait to become a mother one day. I’m disappointed.”
“I’ll make it up to you in other ways. Not only have I accepted Taffy, but I love that scrawny little mite. We can have pets. We’ll have a yard that’s large enough.”
Elsie remained silent. “Goodnight, Conner.”
“Goodnight, love.”
They moved into their new home. Conner and Elsie shared a huge bedroom upstairs, overlooking the forest behind the house. Bertie had the downstairs bedroom which put her nearer to the kitchen since she got up early to fix them breakfast. There were still two empty rooms, though he’d mentioned making one into an office-den, where she could write letters and he could read. Elsie hadn’t answered him.
He could tell Elsie loved the house, and she seemed happy the first few days they were in it, but then she seemed distant, and he knew something was bothering her. He was sure he knew what it was, but what could he do about it? Then an idea struck him.
In bed that night, he held her close and said, “The orphan train is coming through Hays next month. How about we give some poor orphan a loving home?”
Chapter Eighteen
Elsie was silent for several moments before getting out of bed and lighting the oil lamp. She slid back into bed, but instead of lying down beside Conner, she sat with her back against the headboard with her arms crossed in front of her.
“I’ve had it, Conner!”
“What?” Conner answered with wide, surprised eyes.
“I don’t want someone else’s child. I want a child that’s half of you and half of me. I love you and that’s what married couples in love do.”
Conner was sitting up, too. “You don’t want to give a home to a poor orphan?”
“I would love to give a home to a poor orphan after we get one of our own.”
Conner swung his feet over the side of the bed, sat with his back to her, and sighed.
“I’m angry, Conner Van Gates. You are cheating me out of something I’ve always dreamed of becoming: a mother. And I want you to make love to me in the way God intended. How dare you be so selfish?”
When Conner put his head into his hands. Elsie knew she’d hurt him, but while she felt bad, it tempted her to back off and ask him to forgive her, but she knew she couldn’t. The subject had to be brought out into the open. She couldn’t keep it to herself any longer—it was tearing her apart.
Elsie’s next words hurt her to say as much as she knew they’d hurt Conner: “Maybe we need to separate for a while. It seems like since the day we met, we’ve been at odds over everything. I didn’t mind conceding over the little things, but doggone it, I want to be a mother!”
Conner stood silently, grabbed his robe and pillow, and left the room.
Elsie had expected a good old-fashioned argument that would allow each of them to vent their feelings, but he simply left the room.
She felt so disappointed and frustrated; she laid down and cried herself to sleep.
Having woken up late, she dressed and hurried downstairs. She could see Conner’s empty chair and half-eaten breakfast.
Bertie put Elsie’s plate on the table. “Good morning, Elsie.”
After a hurried greeting, Elsie asked, “Where’s Conner?”
“I don’t know. He’s been acting mighty strange today. He hardly spoke to me this morning, and I can only assume he went to the clinic. He didn’t even finish his breakfast—and you know that seldom happens.”
Elsie wiped a stray tear away. “We had our first argument last night.”
“Ah, that would explain the pillow and blanket on the settee.” Bertie patted her shoulder. “All married couples have arguments, and if they say they don’t, they’re lying.”
Elsie looked up at her. “Bertie, I flipped my lid.”
Bertie sat d
own beside her at the table. “About having a child?”
Elsie nodded but remained otherwise silent.
“He loves you, so don’t worry. He’ll come to his senses, and things will go back to normal. I’ve known Conner for a long time. He seldom stays angry for long.”
“I said some very cruel things.”
“Don’t we all when we flip our lids?”
Elsie smiled, but tears still rolled down her cheeks.
“Now, you go to the clinic. I’m sure that’s where Conner is. Just assist him as you always do.”
“But Bertie, things will never be the same after what I said to him.”
“Yes, they will. I promise you—things will be better because you let him know how you felt.”
Elsie walked into the clinic. Conner glanced up from listening to Mr. Finch’s heart and then returned to the patient. Elsie stood beside him as usual, waiting for him to ask for something.
“Otoscope, please,” Conner said.
Elsie moved to the cabinet, removed the tool, and handed it to Conner, who looked into the patient’s ears with it.
“Tongue depressor.”
Elsie handed him every tool he asked for, but he wouldn’t look at her. She felt ill. There was a wall between them, and she’d built it. Still, she knew she couldn’t back down. She would become a mother. She wouldn’t compromise on that. She loved Conner with all her heart, but she wanted to have a normal marriage and a family.
Conner bid Mr. Finch goodbye as Elsie sterilized the tools. He locked the clinic door behind Mr. Finch and put up the closed sign.
Elsie simply stared at him, wondering what he’d do next.
Conner stared back at his wife, and his heart pounded. What could he say? What could he do? If she died in childbirth, he’d die with her. He loved her twice as much as he’d loved Mary... he had loved Mary, but with Elsie, it was different. His love for her was deep and meaningful. He was afraid to make proper love to his wife because he loved her too much. How could she ever understand that? He had to make her understand. He’d tell her the truth about his fear.