A Love Restored

by Goshorn, Kelly;

  ~*~

  “Good Morning, Doc. Mrs. Rawlings.” Ruth Ann set the pot on a small table in Doc’s waiting room. “How are our patients today?” She stuffed her gloves in the pocket of her cape before hanging it on the coatrack. “I brought more of Myra’s chicken broth.”

  “That’s lovely dear.” Violet Rawlings greeted Ruth Ann with a quick buss to the cheek. “I’ll put that on the stove immediately. I don’t know how we would have managed this many injured without you—or Maggie and Myra for that matter.” She took the pot from Ruth Ann’s hands and headed for the kitchen. “Go on up, dear,” she called over her shoulder. “Doc is checking on the men now. Maggie arrived a few minutes ago.”

  The Rawlings’ two-story home housed Doc’s offices on the first floor. Almost one week later, only the most severely wounded remained in his care. As she climbed the stairs to the surgery, she prayed. Lord, heal the wounds of these men. Keep them free of infection and restore them to health.

  The days since the raid were a blur of activity. Ruth Ann had spent most of her time assisting Doc and Violet Rawlings treat the injured. She’d cleaned and dressed wounds, administered medicine, and spoon-fed those too weak to feed themselves. But none of it did anything to appease the heavy burden of responsibility she felt.

  Despite Doc’s best efforts, the bullet had severed Francis’ femoral artery, and Doc couldn’t save him. The man at the center of all the hate and violence, Silas Hench, died in the blaze. She struggled with her lack of remorse at his loss. Surely some measure of compunction was due when a man lost his life.

  Laughter floated through the hallway—Maggie and Edward. She would visit them first then begin Benjamin’s ministrations. She passed Elias’ empty room, a reminder of the fate that awaited each of the men arrested for participating in the raid. Deemed fit to travel, the sheriff had taken him to Leesburg yesterday to await trial.

  She nudged the door open. “How are my favorite patients doing today?”

  Maggie’s warm smile greeted her. “Edward is doing well. He’s had no laudanum since yesterday. If he keeps this up, Doc says he can go home tomorrow—as long as he promises to rest.” She shot her patient a stony look. “And he will rest if he knows what’s good for him.”

  Edward rolled his eyes. “We’re not even married yet, and the woman is already bossing me around.”

  Ruth Ann grinned. “You don’t fool me, Edward Simms. Your voice is complaining, but your eyes are twinkling.”

  He reached for Maggie’s hand. “Nothing like surviving a harrowing ordeal to make you realize what’s important in life.”

  She hugged Maggie tight. “I still can’t believe you’ll be a married woman before the summer is over.” Winking at Edward over Maggie’s shoulder she added, “That is if Edward follows Doc’s orders so he can return to work in a few weeks. It would be a real shame to postpone the wedding for lack of funds.”

  Edward shifted his gaze out the window. “Why don’t you go check on Nate? You’re a bad influence on my future bride.” He glanced back at Ruth Ann, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

  She shifted her attention to her sleeping friend. Shallow breaths punctuated his breathing. “How’s Nate doing, Maggie?”

  Maggie released Edward’s hand and joined Ruth Ann beside Nate’s bed. “About the same. Doc gave him some morphine this morning. He’ll sleep for a while.”

  Ruth Ann patted Nate’s hand. He lifted heavy-lidded eyes. A faint upturn to his mouth calmed her anxious heart before he gave way to sleep again.

  “It’s hard to believe his own father and brother could beat him senseless like this.” She shuddered and fought against the lump forming in her throat. “Has Mrs. Hamilton come to see him yet?”

  Maggie shook her head. “Nor is she likely to now that Elias has been transferred to the jail in Leesburg with his father.”

  “Have any arrangements been made for his care when he’s discharged?”

  “Nothing definite. I think Doc wants to speak with the Petersons. He’ll need someone to help him for a while.”

  Moisture pooled in Ruth Ann’s eyes. “If I

  hadn’t—”

  Maggie placed a hand to her shoulder. “He wanted to be his own man, remember?”

  Edward winced as he pushed himself to sitting position. “You’re not responsible for what those raiders did any more than you’re responsible for Nate’s choice to protect you. Or mine. Or Benjamin’s.”

  She nodded, but inwardly, guilt gnawed at her for the pain and suffering her friends were enduring. “I need to tend to Benjamin before he wakes.”

  Maggie handed Ruth Ann a copy of the Mirror. “Can you put this in Captain Reynolds’ room? Edward is finished with it, and the captain will be looking for someone to read to him this afternoon.”

  “Sure.” Ruth Ann took the paper from Maggie and gave Nate one last pat on the hand. Grinning, she paused by Edward’s bed. “You’d better listen to Maggie. If she sees how ornery you are, she just might change her mind about marrying you.”

  Maggie’s lips stretched into a wide grin. She swiped the hair from Edward’s forehead. “We both know there is little chance of that.”

  She closed the door behind her and headed for the captain’s room. Hearing Doc’s voice behind Captain Reynolds’ closed door, she tucked the newspaper under her arm and continued to Benjamin’s room. She paused in the doorway—he looked so helpless. Nothing like the strong, self-assured man who had come calling at her door. She laid the newspaper on the bureau then scanned the doctor’s instructions tacked to the wall above his bed. He was due for medication within the hour. From what she could decipher of Doc’s scribblings, he was tapering Benjamin off the morphine. If she hurried, she should be able change his dressings before he roused from his medicated slumber.

  Ruth Ann rolled up her sleeves and poured fresh water into the basin then washed her hands as Doc had instructed. Benjamin was flush. She laid a hand to his forehead—his fever persisted. A dark shadow outlined his chiseled jaw. Remembering the scruffy, bearded-man she first encountered at the creek, her lips tugged upward.

  With a heavy breath, she pulled back his blankets. Using a small pair of shears, she snipped the dressings covering his injured shoulder then disposed of the soiled bandages. She dipped a clean cloth in the basin and wrung it out before gently cleansing his wound. The redness had diminished, but it still appeared swollen. A thin, clear liquid oozed from the site, but overall the stubborn abscess was gradually improving.

  “I brought warm poultices.” Violet stood in the doorway, tray in hand.

  “You’re a mind reader. I was just about to head to the kitchen for one of those. You’ll need to teach me what herbs you use. They’ve made a huge difference for both Mr. Coulter and Captain Reynolds.”

  “All right, first thing tomorrow morning. If you like, you can grind them yourself with the mortar and pestle.”

  “Thank you.” Ruth Ann retrieved a dish from the tray and scooped the warm paste from the bowl with her fingers. Leaning over Benjamin, she tenderly spread the mixture on his wound. Satisfied with her efforts, she cleaned her hands in the basin then applied fresh dressings.

  Benjamin’s eyes fluttered open. “Ru-Ruthie?”

  “Yes, Mr. Coulter. It’s me.”

  “I’ll get my husband for you.” Violet hurried from Benjamin’s room.

  “Would you like some water?”

  Benjamin’ strained to speak. “Yeeesss, pleeeese.”

  “Surely.” After tying off his bandage, she poured a cup of water then slipped her arm behind his neck and lifted him forward enough to sip the cool liquid.

  Benjamin winced.

  “I’m sorry. Am I hurting you?”

  He shook his head. “Mor-rre pleeeese.”

  “Easy now, your stomach has been empty for a few days. Drink too much and it will all come up.” She carefully returned him to his pillow.

  “Th-thank you.”

  “Well, look who’s finally awake.” Doc p
ressed his fingers against Benjamin’s wrist. “You’ve given us all quite a scare.” He placed his stethoscope on Benjamin’s chest and instructed him to take several deep breaths. “Breathing is still a bit weak but, you have quite an impressive list of injuries young man, and it will take some time to get your strength back.”

  Doc examined his notes. “A buckshot wound to your left shoulder tops the list. It’s a good thing you weren’t shot at close range, or you may have lost your entire arm. As it is, the skin around the wound is seared and abraded, but Miss Sutton has been cleansing it twice daily and the infection is improving. You have two broken ribs. There doesn’t appear to be any internal damage, but you’ll need to keep your left arm wrapped snuggly to your side for at least a month. And if that’s not enough, you’ve got several nasty lacerations on the back of your head—thirty stitches’ worth. Sorry, had to shave the area at the base of your skull to do a proper job.”

  “Thhhanks, Doc.” Benjamin scratched his arm then his cheek.

  Doc examined his arm. “Itchy skin?”

  He nodded.

  “Don’t see any irritation. Most likely a side effect from the morphine.” He jotted something in Benjamin’s medical notes then glanced at Ruth Ann. “If a rash develops let me know.”

  “Yes, Doc.”

  “Ya know, Benjamin, you’re one lucky young man. Any one of those injuries could’ve taken you to glory, but thanks to Miss Sutton’s dogged determination, I expect you to make a full recovery.”

  Not wanting her gaze to meet Benjamin’s, she lowered her lashes.

  “You’ll need to stay here awhile longer and have those bandages changed several times a day.” Doc patted his patient’s hand. “Get some rest, son. That’s the best thing for you right now.”

  Ruth Ann hastily gathered her supplies but paused at a feather light touch to her hand.

  “Y-your face?” Benjamin strained to lift his arm a few inches above the bed. His eyes softened as he pointed to her busted lip and the discoloration on her cheek. “Y-you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  His eyes pressed closed. “Those men…they didn’t…?”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed. “A few cuts and bruises, but that’s all…thanks to you.”

  His eyes locked on hers, a contented smile forming on his lips. “You’ve…always been… a fighter, Ruthie.”

  Benjamin’s eyes fluttered. It wouldn’t be long until he slept again.

  He patted the bed beside him. “Pleeease stay.”

  Despite his cruel rejection, the sight of Benjamin wounded and vulnerable drew her helplessly toward him, like a lamb to the slaughter. She tugged on her bottom lip. How could she still be attracted to him after what he’d said? Hadn’t she learned anything?

  “I can’t. You get some rest.” She closed the door behind her, quietly resolving to bury any flicker of attraction to Benjamin Coulter.

  22

  “Ouch!” Ruth Ann flinched.

  Myra reworked the pins at her waist. “Sorry, child. I got to take it in some more.” She tugged on the fabric. “I know that man upset you, but you best start eatin’.”

  She sighed. “You’re right, Myra, but I have no appetite.”

  “Suppose a broken heart does that to a body.”

  Ruth Ann stared at her likeness in the full-length mirror while Myra altered the garment. A warm contentedness washed over her, something she had never known before. For the first time in her life she didn’t despise her reflection. Fingering her curls with admiration, she thought about what the Psalmist wrote. I will praise Thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are Thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. God had fashioned her in her mother’s womb, just the way he wanted her. Her hands traced the outline of her buxom silhouette. If God was pleased with what He saw, then who was she, or Benjamin Coulter for that matter, to say otherwise.

  “That man keep comin’ ’round here. He still loves you.” Myra slid a pin between her lips and nudged Ruth Ann sideways before removing it again. “It’s been two months. You ever gonna let him say his piece or you gonna keep havin’ Mrs. Sarah shoo him away?”

  She didn’t know why he came calling. He didn’t want her. He wanted Rose and her hourglass figure. “It’s better this way. With the railroad finally progressing to Round Hill, he’ll be leaving town soon anyway.” Eventually Benjamin would leave Virginia altogether and head west to Colorado or California. Only a few days more, then she’d never see him again.

  Her gaze met Myra’s in the mirror. She quirked a brow. “What?”

  “Maybe you ain’t as happy about not seein’ that man as you lets on.”

  “Nonsense. I’m just nervous about the grand opening of the train station tomorrow.”

  “Mmmhmm. And seein’ Mr. Benjamin while you on Mr. Thornton’s arm.”

  Ruth Ann forced the air from her lungs. “Don’t remind me.”

  A gentle rap preceded the creaking door hinge. Mama poked her head inside the room. “I thought I would see what progress you two are making.”

  “We just about finished, ma’am.” Myra secured the final pin. “Turn ’round, child, and let us get a good look at you.”

  Ruth Ann moved slowly, careful not to step off the side of the cedar chest. She drew back the sides of the lavender floral polonaise and admired the gingham underskirt.

  “Looks mighty fine. What you think, Mrs. Hannah?”

  Mama clapped her hands together, her smile beaming with pride. “I never thought I would see you with any semblance of a trim figure, Ruth. While you are not as petite as your sister, you are every bit as beautiful. James will not be able to take his eyes off you tomorrow.”

  “I doubt that, Mama. As Master of Ceremonies, we both know James will be working the crowd and hobnobbing with railroad board members.”

  “Yes, dear, he will, with you right by his side.” Mama stretched her hand out to Ruth Ann. “Your decision to entertain James again is very wise.”

  Ruth Ann lifted her skirts in her left hand and placed her right inside her mother’s before stepping down from the cedar chest.

  “Perhaps the attentions of a well-bred young man will shake these tiresome doldrums.” Mama reached for the doorknob and paused. She glanced back over her shoulder. “You look lovely dear, but do try to work on your disposition.”

  Ruth Ann nodded. Her mother was right. Her nerves were a jumble. Between the ribbon cutting ceremony and her desire to avoid Benjamin, she was as sour as week-old milk. Even Jules Verne held little interest. Much of her spirit and opinionated nature had vanished. Her willful determination to teach the Negroes had cost her and many others she cared about, greatly.

  “If we’re done, Myra, I need to change and hurry over to the train station. I promised Maggie I’d help with the decorations.”

  Myra unfastened the buttons on the back of her dress and carefully slid the garment from her shoulders and hips. She hung the dress from the armoire then gently smoothed the linen fabric. “Lordy, child, when Mr. Benjamin sees you in this, his mouth gonna drop clean to the ground.”

  Ruth Ann worried her lip. What would her duplicitous heart do if it did?

  ~*~

  Ruth Ann raised a hand to her brow, blocking the afternoon sun. “That end is too loose, Maggie. The first child who touches the bunting will pull it right down.”

  Maggie leaned over the rose bushes as far as she dared. “You’re right, but even with this ladder, it’s difficult for me to reach the far corner.”

  “Perhaps, I could help.”

  Ruth Ann stiffened at the deep timbre of Benjamin’s voice. Oh well, she’d expected to see him at some point over the next two days. Might as well get it over with.

  “Thank you, Benjamin.” Maggie lowered the decoration. “That would be helpful. I’ll fall into the roses if I lean any farther.”

  Ruth Ann glared at Maggie.

  Benjamin took the bunting from Maggie’s hand and stretched it taut against th
e railing. “How’s that look?”

  Maggie cocked her head. “Needs a bit of slack.” She motioned for Ruth Ann to move toward Benjamin. “Perfect.”

  Benjamin pounded a small nail into the end of the railing. He wrapped the string around it several times before whacking it with the hammer again. He moved to where Ruth Ann stood and repeated the process. “Next.”

  Maggie retrieved another bunting from the crate. “The last one needs to be hung from the roof line.”

  He positioned the ladder then extended the hammer to Ruth Ann. “Hold this please until Maggie says we have it centered.”

  Ruth Ann tapped the hammer in her palm. She wanted to give him the hammer all right—right upside his hard head. She nodded slightly, acknowledging his request then glanced at Maggie. Her smug grin told Ruth Ann that Maggie was quite pleased with herself for engineering this move. She and Edward had been encouraging her to stop blustering about James and open her heart to Benjamin’s contrition.

  He stretched out his hand. “I need the hammer and a nail, please.”

  Her fingers grazed his, quickening her pulse. The hammer fell to the ground. “I-I’m so clumsy. I-I’ll get that.” She hurried down the steps and knelt between the rose bushes.

  “Found it.” Ruth Ann shook her hand as she stood. Her eyes darted around. “Where’s Maggie? She was just here a—”

  “Hmmm. Oh—uh, I’m not sure, but I can help you finish here.”

  She let out a breath. “If you hang that end of the bunting, it would be helpful.” She brought her index finger to her lips then shook her hand again. “You can put the hammer in your pocket this time so I won’t drop it again.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yes, it’s just a thorn. I’ll be fine.”