The Cripple’s Bride

by Elliee Atkinson

  “He doesn’t like cold weather?”

  “No business.”

  Daryl watched her moving around the room, wondering when she was going to stop flittering about and just sit down and relax. He wanted to tell her to sit down, to take a moment and breathe, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched her quick movements.

  Finally, she dropped herself into her chair, turning it slightly so that it was facing the fireplace a little more. She sat forward and rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait for it to be warm out again. I don’t mind cold weather, but blizzards are a bit much for me. I like the sunshine and flowers and even rain. But heavy snow…” She shook her head. “It’s just a bother. Especially shoveling.”

  “Did you shovel all the snow out from in front of the barn?” Daryl said in surprise, turning his head to look through the window at the barn.

  “Yeah, I had to.”

  “How’re my horses?”

  “Both doing fine. I gave them all a rubdown and clean blankets to keep them warm. They are all happy.”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “That’s great to hear. Thank you for taking care of them. You’re a saint.”

  She laughed. “Not a saint. But thank you. I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable or unhappy. I’m just doing my part.”

  “You do more than your fair share, my dear.”

  “Well, thanks again.”

  They were quiet. For the first time since his arrival, Daryl felt comfortable just sitting and watching the fire. He didn’t feel the need to speak. He was glad she was there, enjoying the warmth and the dancing flames with him.

  “I do enjoy the way the fire moves,” she said in a soft voice.

  He looked at her profile. It was highlighted by the light as it danced on her face. He sighed silently.

  “It reminds me of when I was a child.” She stopped and glanced at him to see if he was listening. He smiled at her.

  “You were in Ireland then?”

  “I was, yes.” She nodded. “There were other children in the neighborhood. It was not a good time for my home country. There was not much food for the people. We barely had enough to get by. But one of the things I remember most about being on that narrow street of row houses was that my brother and I were able to make friends with the other children. Some of my happiest memories were spent with those children. We would dance around a maypole, wave long ribbons in the air, and the boys would toot horns and march around us. We had a grand time. It was a lot of fun.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  “I miss those days sometimes.” She sounded wistful. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing exciting from his childhood that made him feel especially nostalgic.

  “I would, too, if I were you,” he remarked. She turned her head and rested her chin on her shoulder.

  “Do you have any fond memories from your childhood?”

  He tried to think harder. He looked back to when he and his sister were young, but nothing sprang to mind that would be special to him. “My sister and I didn’t play together often,” he said finally. “We were not especially close. We are friends now, always have been. And I have the urge to be protective of her. But I can’t think of anything that was special to me.”

  “How sad.” Rachel looked sorry for him. He shook his head.

  “It’s all right. That just means my best memories are yet to come.”

  Her smile brightened up her face. “That is such a good way to think of it! I like that very much!”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I do like to make people feel like good things are coming.”

  “You are certainly teaching me that.”

  She stood up. He felt a twinge of anxiety. She was going to leave. He was going to be here in this strange house alone with nothing to do. He supposed he could go back in the room she’d given him and try to get some sleep. However, he’d slept so much for the past several days, he doubted he would be able to. If he did, it wouldn’t be for long.

  “Is there anything you want from town? Anything you need?”

  “More liquor.”

  “Yes, that was on my list. You’ve almost drank all that I have. I need to replenish my stock.”

  “Why do you even have a stock?” He used a teasing voice and smiled when he asked the question. “I haven’t seen you take a drink yet.”

  “I keep it for medicinal purposes and sometimes I just like to have a drink. And if Sam comes over, he likes to have a drink sometimes.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  She laughed. “Just because he’s a barkeep doesn’t mean he’s a regular drinker. In fact, I’d say it’s the opposite. He’s told me when he leaves the saloon, he doesn’t even want to look at a liquor bottle until he has to go back.”

  “Has he ever come to visit you?”

  “A few times. Not often. We… we run out of things to say.”

  “I understand the feeling.”

  “So other than the liquor there is nothing else you want? Tobacco? Ammunition?”

  He grinned. “Why would I need either of those? Have you seen me use either since I got here?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. I was just trying to think of things that a man like you might use most often.”

  “I don’t use tobacco. Don’t like the taste of the stuff.”

  “My brother doesn’t either. He says it makes people’s teeth rot out of their head and he’s seen enough of that at his saloon to know better.”

  She moved out of the room and into her bedroom, talking to him from behind the half-closed door. “He might come back with me, so prepare yourself. The doc is a great guy. Well, they both are, Doc Brown and Dr. Campbell. But if I get Dr. Campbell, I’ll be longer because he’s not as close as Doc Brown.”

  He wondered what she was doing in her room as she talked. Her jacket was sitting on the chair, along with her snow shoes and her scarf.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “And I don’t mean to scare you when I say to prepare yourself if Sam comes back with me.” She came around the door and he noticed she had changed her shirt into one that was thicker. She walked to the chair and picked up her jacket. “It’s just that Sam is a real big guy and he can be intimidating. You’re not far from his height, but he’s bigger about the chest and arms. You are, too, mind you. He doesn’t make you look weak. He’s just big. But he’s a nice guy and…” She grinned. “He gives great hugs.”

  “That’s something I’ll never find out,” Daryl said dryly.

  She laughed. “No, you are right about that. I can’t imagine anything that would make him hug you. Unless you married me. Then maybe.”

  The mention of marriage made Daryl’s heart skip a beat. He could never be so blessed as to get a woman like her to love him and marry him. He was temporarily lost for words before he regained his composure. “Well, I guess I’ll keep that open then.”

  The smile that grew on her lips made Daryl forget all his pain. He resisted grabbing her and pulling her into a hug. It would have been gratifying, but probably extremely painful. Plus, it might take her off guard and she might hit him. She looked like the type that would punch a guy to defend herself.

  He chuckled at the thought.

  “You are amused by me?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “I am amused by you, Rachel. Highly amused. In a good way.”

  “That’s good. You amuse me, too.”

  “Then we should be able to reside together for a short time without any trouble.”

  Or a long time…

  They didn’t realize they were each thinking the same thing at the same time.

  She tied down the bonnet on her head with her scarf and then wrapped the same scarf around her nose and mouth, throwing it over her shoulder. She pulled on her jacket. The last thing she did was bend down to put on her snow shoes. Grunting, she clumsily tied them. When she stood up, one was not secured well and her foot slipped out.

  “Oh for goodness’
sake.” She bent down again.

  “If you put it up here, I’ll tie it tight for you.” Daryl said, patting the side of the couch.

  “It will make the couch wet,” Rachel mentioned.

  “Not too bad. Come on, I want to help. You’re gonna go out there and risk your life to make sure I don’t get my leg cut off.”

  She smiled wide at him. She lifted her foot and put it on the side of the couch. The snow show was wide, but Daryl easily reached around its side and tied it off for her. Without a word, she put the other one on the couch, even though it was tied securely. He looked up at her, grinning, untied the snow shoe and retied it a bit tighter.

  “Is that better?” he asked when she took her foot down.

  “It is better. It’s much better.”

  “Good. Now you better be careful. I don’t want you having an accident when you’re trying to help me. I don’t want you to have an accident at all. Just be careful, okay?”

  “I’ll be riding Prince. He’s a stallion. He’ll plow through this snow like it isn’t even there.”

  “You’re sure? What about holes in the road or slick spots?”

  “He’s a wise horse. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about me.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DARYL HAS AN IDEA

  DARYL HAS AN IDEA

  Daryl watched her riding away on horseback, snow kicking up behind the horse’s hooves. She knew what she was doing, he told himself. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from worrying about her. Anything could happen to her.

  He shook his head. He was thinking like a love-sick fool. He looked around the room, wondering if there was something he could do for her to repay her for her kindness. Nothing inside needed repairing. He doubted anything on the outside did either.

  “Well, God,” he said aloud. “This is a strange turn of events, ain’t it?” He pushed himself to his feet with the walking stick and once again looked around. “I suppose the fire could use another couple pieces of wood. And I need the exercise, right, Lord?” Without waiting for an answer from the Almighty, Daryl leaned over and picked up a small piece of wood. For a piece that small, he found it to be quite heavy. He tossed it on the fire and watched it catch. Then he tossed on another one, delighting in the sparks and sounds it made.

  He missed her already.

  He thought about all that she had accomplished since coming to America. He was looking forward to meeting her brother, though it might be awkward at first. He was hoping the big Irishman would see him for who he really was – an honest man with a plan for success. He would pay her back for his stay at her house, one way or another.

  She had no fields to plow and no garden. However, she did have several horses and some land around the house that would need tending during the warmer seasons. Maybe he could help her with that.

  He hobbled around the house, ending up in the kitchen, looking through her cupboards for something he could eat. He spotted a long round loaf of bread and some dried ham slices. His stomach grumbled as he sliced the bread and ham to make a sandwich.

  Had she eaten? He wondered for a moment, looking back in his memory to see if he remembered her getting anything to eat. He didn’t. He would have to remind her to eat properly. There was no need to starve herself. If she was worried about eating all the food and him not having enough, he would certainly give her money for food. He would give her money to stay with her at her house. He was beginning to discover that she wouldn’t need to try hard to get something from him. He was ready and willing to give her everything he had.

  He wasn’t sure he liked that. No other woman had affected him the way this one did. Not even Laura.

  He hadn’t thought about Laura in a long time. He smiled, realizing he hadn’t thought about her when he’d fallen down the ravine either. He hadn’t wished his last moments were with her. He hadn’t wanted her help. He hadn’t even thought of her once.

  Since being in Rachel’s presence, Laura seemed like an immature girl. It almost made Daryl ashamed that he hadn’t seen her for who she really was much sooner. She didn’t want a real man. She wanted someone she could play with and toss away. It wouldn’t be Daryl. In addition, it was to her credit that he wasn’t. He would try to remember that.

  “You teach me lessons in a weird way, Lord,” he said aloud, flicking his eyes to the ceiling of the cottage for just a moment. He picked up an iron poker and poked through the fireplace, stoking it into higher flames. “I’m never gonna understand it, am I?”

  Probably not… he thought.

  “Guess I probably shouldn’t even try really.”

  Probably not…

  He stared into the fire for a moment before deciding he needed some lemonade or tea to chase his sandwich down his throat. He finished it in four bites and immediately regretted scarfing it down. His injuries had caused him to neglect eating for almost two days. He was still ravenous.

  He slowly went back into the kitchen to make another sandwich and start some tea brewing. He would drink it hot now and put half of it in the icebox for later. He set about the task, leaning against the counter for support and swinging his leg around to move about. He almost slipped several times, but continued. Once the tea was brewing, he moved to the table, pulled out one of the chairs and dropped down into it. He had exhausted himself, and it had probably only been about fifteen minutes. It didn’t take that long to start a pot of tea.

  He looked out the window at the overwhelming white snow that topped everything in sight.

  “I think I’m gonna like snow from now on,” Daryl said aloud. “I know there’s a good reason for it. Probably something scientific that I could never understand. I didn’t care for it too much before, Lord, but I think I like it now.”

  It brought me to Rachel… he thought.

  He sat in that spot, his leg stretched out in front of him, until he heard the kettle whistle. He let it brew for ten minutes before standing up to tend to it. Opening her other cabinet doors, he discovered she had quite a lot of game meat, seasoned and unseasoned. There were jars of vegetables, fruits and other concoctions she had stored away for emergencies.

  Like this one…

  She was a smart woman. She never ceased to amaze him. She put her food in glass jars to preserve them. She had different types of jellies and juices.

  “What kind of a woman does all of this when she lives by herself? What was she preparing for? A family of twelve?” He chuckled. He hoped she didn’t want a family of twelve. And even if she did, God would give them what he wanted them to have.

  He’d probably go along with it anyway. He would do whatever he had to do to make sure she had a smile on her face. It was too beautiful not to be smiling. She deserved every happiness in the world. He wanted to give it to her.

  He discovered a large roast in the icebox. Looking around, he spotted onions, carrots, potatoes. He formulated a plan in his mind. He had not been able to cook for her or do anything, really, to return her kindness to him. He could make her a good dinner. He could have it ready when she got back and if Sam came, he would see that Daryl was a good man, a gentleman who would not harm his little sister.

  He certainly didn’t want to get shot as soon as he arrived in Wickenburg.

  He found the knives and other utensils. Everything was placed conveniently around the kitchen, making it a lot easier for him to maneuver. It wasn’t an overly large kitchen, so his broken leg didn’t hinder him as much as it might have in a large kitchen. He managed to scoot from one place to another with minimal pain. He piled everything he wanted to use on the table and sat on one of the chairs, making sure he could stretch his leg out to the side. It was beginning to hurt, as it always did when he tried to walk. However, he ignored the throbbing, picked up a knife and started cutting up his ingredients.

  Rachel rode through the snow, grateful that there was little to no wind. The air was chilly, but the sun created a lot of warmth. It reflected off the snow, making her squint as they moved through it. She
was used to seeing dust flying up in the air. There would be no dust for at least a month as the ground sucked all the moisture it could from the wet snow. There was going to be more mud than she cared to imagine. She thought about what it would be like having a man in the house when the ground was terribly muddy out. He would track it in all over the floors. She was sure of it.

  “Men,” she murmured. She cracked a grin. She probably wouldn’t care. She would clean it up and go on about her day.

  Would Daryl be there at her house, still staying with her, when the snow became mud?

  She hoped so.

  She came up on a tree that had fallen over in the blizzard. Two young men were trying to pull it off the trail, using a pulley system they seemed to have fashioned themselves, with their suspenders.

  “Can I help?” she called out to them.

  They both looked up at her in surprise.

  “No, miss, that’s all right. We’ll get it. Just wait there and it’ll be moved in no time.”

  Rachel shook her head, clucking her tongue. She moved Prince closer to the boy who had spoken to her. “Give me that, young man.” She leaned over in the saddle and held out her hand. He stared at her. “Your suspenders. Give them to me.”

  He didn’t seem to comprehend what she was saying completely, looking down at her hand. Then he slowly handed her the part he was holding. She tied it to the lowest part of her saddle. “You there. Tie off that side. Tie it tight now, we don’t want it to come loose and smack my poor boy on the leg.”

  The other boy understood immediately and tied the suspender around a large, sturdy branch.

  Rachel clucked at Prince and kicked him lightly in his flanks so that he would move forward. The tree slid through the snow and off the road. Rachel halted the horse and untied the suspender.

  “Here you go,” she tossed it to the boy. “You two go find somewhere warm to sit, maybe build a fire, you hear me? You go get warm now.”