A Matter of Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  “You always were too focused on yourself,” Houston said, shaking his head. “My dying wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. I put myself in harm’s way. You didn’t make me do anything.”

  “But you were protecting me, and it was my bullet that . . .”

  “That killed me?” Houston shrugged. “Didn’t much matter if it was yours or his. I knew what my odds were, and I took them. I didn’t want to see you die. Grace and the baby needed you.”

  “They didn’t need me long. They died.”

  Houston nodded slowly. “I know. The folks, too. You’ve been alone for far too long.”

  Austin felt a rush of sadness. “But there wasn’t even time to tell you good-bye. You died so fast. I watched the life go out of you, and there was—”

  “Nothing you could do.” Houston finished the sentence with a sigh. “I know. There still isn’t. Moping around and feeling like you do won’t bring me back. You need to stop letting this control you. You need to fight for yourself now. Fight to live.”

  Austin felt so very tired. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “But you have a gal waiting for you back in Texas.”

  “Jessica.” Austin opened his eyes.

  Houston nodded and bent toward Austin. His brown hair fell over his left eye, causing him to reach up and push it back in his habitual manner. “She’s a good woman. I think you two will be happy.” He paused for a moment and smiled. “And that’s what I want for you, Austin. I want you to be happy. Let the past rest.” Houston got to his feet. “It can only hurt you if you allow it to. Let it go like the Good Book says. Let me go.”

  Chapter 25

  Austin awoke to abdominal pain and a blinding headache. He felt as if every muscle in his body had gone to mush, and when he tried to move his arms, he found it nearly impossible. Rather than fight, Austin relaxed as best he could and closed his eyes again. He couldn’t help but think of the dream he’d had. It had seemed so real. Houston seemed so happy and free of accusation. Had God used the dream to send him a message? Or had Houston’s spirit appeared to him? Did God do that kind of thing? A memory came to mind of reading about Jesus and the appearance of Moses and Elijah, who had died long before.

  “With God all things are possible,” he murmured. But even as he contemplated whether or not the dream was real, peace like he’d never known settled over him. His brother was in God’s care—as were Grace and his son and his parents. Somehow, he just knew they had come to realize his part in Houston’s death had simply been an accident. A terrible, tragic accident.

  Opening his eyes again, he stared up at the gray ceiling. The lighting seemed different. Had he fallen asleep again? Why was he here, and exactly where was here? It was obviously a hospital, but he didn’t remember coming to it or why.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Todd. I’m glad to see that you’re still among us.”

  Austin looked at the older man and gave a weak smile. “I’d shake your hand and make your acquaintance if I had any strength.”

  “I’m Dr. Kirkland. You were brought to my care nearly a month ago. You were in pretty bad shape, and we didn’t expect you to live.”

  “A month? I’ve been asleep for a month?” Austin found it impossible to believe. Why, just yesterday he’d . . . he’d . . . His mind was blank. He strained his memory to search for what he last remembered.

  “I remember I took the train . . . somewhere.” He thought hard. “Colorado.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” The doctor picked up Austin’s chart and studied it while Austin continued to search his mind.

  “I live in Texas. I know that much.”

  “And are you married?”

  “No. But I’m going to be.” An image of Jessica came to mind. “She’s the prettiest girl in all of Texas.”

  The doctor looked to Austin and chuckled. “I’d say then that you’re remembering the most important things in your life.”

  “How did I end up here?” Austin shook his head. “Why does my head hurt so much? And my gut. I feel like I’ve been ripped apart.”

  “You suffered two bullet wounds, Mr. Todd. The first one was more serious. It entered about here.” The doctor put his finger on his own body. “It pierced your small intestine and narrowly missed your kidney on its exit. It caused considerable damage. We operated on you twice. The other bullet grazed your head but didn’t cause serious damage. However, you lost a great deal of blood and suffered an infection, as well. Now you’re showing signs of recovery, and we are all most happy to see that.”

  “And you say this happened almost a month ago?”

  “Yes. You’ve been a very sick man. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago that we had real hope of your survival.”

  “I feel like a wrung-out dish towel,” he said, trying to rise up. Intense pain ripped through his body, and now his back hurt as much as his gut. Austin felt as though his neck could barely support his head and fell back against the pillow. “Am I going to be like this forever?”

  “No. You’ll need time to recover your strength. You’ve been flat in bed for a month, and we performed the second surgery just four days ago. You aren’t just going to jump up and do everything you used to do, but in time you will regain your abilities. Of that, I feel certain. Now, I plan to have the nurse give you something to help with the pain, but first I’d like to know if you feel up to some visitors. They’ve been here for a couple of days.”

  Austin nodded. “Who are they?”

  “Let’s see if you remember them,” the doctor said, going to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Austin frowned, trying to force his memories to return. He kept thinking about a box. A black lacquered box. What did it mean? He tried again to sit up but found it impossible.

  Frustrated by his own weakness, Austin relaxed against the bed, determined that he would beat this. He’d do whatever the doctor said to do, and he’d recover.

  “Austin!” A woman rushed into the room and to his bedside.

  “Jess,” he whispered. He remembered her.

  She sobbed and took hold of him. “I was so afraid. When you didn’t send us a telegram, I knew something must be very wrong.”

  Jessica hugged him tightly, and Austin’s pain increased, but he said nothing. His joy at seeing her again and remembering who she was overcame any concerns about the pain.

  “I don’t remember what happened.”

  “Your Secret Service pals filled us in on that,” a man declared.

  Austin looked past Jessica to see Tyler Atherton. At the mention of the Secret Service, Austin had a flicker of memory. “I was working for them, wasn’t I?”

  Mr. Atherton came closer, and Jessica released her hold. “You were,” she said. “You were trying to catch counterfeiters who were blackmailing Jake and scaring Alice. Remember?”

  He considered this news for a moment and let the pieces fall into place. There had been someone bothering his friends. Austin could remember talking to Jake and Alice’s husband, Robert. “I remember some. I took the train here, right?”

  “You did,” Atherton replied.

  “That’s all I remember. I don’t remember getting here or what happened afterward.”

  “This kind of assault on the body often blocks the ability to remember,” the doctor told them. He looked to Austin. “Your memory may return in time.”

  Austin hadn’t realized the doctor had rejoined them. “I hope you’re right, Doc. I sure don’t like this feeling of not knowing what happened.”

  “Your friends said that you met them and were in agreement that you would go to the bank and retrieve the box belongin’ to Alice’s deceased father.” Atherton paused a moment. “Do you remember that much?”

  “The box. I was after the box.” It made sense now why he kept pondering that black lacquered box.

  “Yes, you were followin’ a lead that brought you to Colorado. It was thought that perhaps the box contained the missing gold certificates and even some p
lates for makin’ ’em. And it did. You took the box from the bank back to your hotel, where you were waylaid by Paul Morgan and his man, Lothar Hale. He went by the name Mr. Smith when he was stirrin’ up trouble with Marty and Alice in Denver.”

  The story was coming together, and though parts of it remained veiled in a fog, Austin could finally recall his mission and the agents. They were Marcus Kayler and Sam Fegel. He’d worked with them in Washington.

  “Were Kayler and Fegel hurt?”

  “No. They heard the ruckus as they stood outside the door to your room. They rushed in and took Morgan and Hale into custody. Then they realized you’d been shot. The police arrived to assist them, and they got you to the hospital.”

  “Were they able to retain possession of the box?”

  “Yes, and all the contents. There were certificates and plates and papers for making additional certificates, as well as ink and stamps and a few other things.”

  “They were all the working tools of Mr. Chesterfield, given to him by Mr. Morgan,” Jessica added. “Apparently Mr. Morgan has been making counterfeits for a long time.”

  “It’s all still rather foggy to me,” Austin admitted.

  “In time it may well clear for you,” the doctor assured him. “You may retain some memory loss, but otherwise I’m hopeful you’ll have a full recovery.”

  Austin gave Jessica a weak smile. “Then we can be married.”

  She began to cry again. “I’m so sorry for the things I said before you left. I didn’t mean them. I love you.” Jessica reached down to touch his cheek. “I love you dearly. Please forgive me. I’ll never doubt you again.”

  “I don’t think I remember much of anything bad being said,” he replied, “so I hardly see the need for forgiveness. I love you, too, Jessica, and even if we had words, I know your love is true. It’s a matter of heart.” He smiled as she once again bent low to hug him. He remembered the argument in full, but he wasn’t about to hold it against her.

  She pulled back and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Yes, and my heart is full of love for you.”

  The doctor stepped forward. “These things were in your pockets when they brought you to the hospital. He handed a knotted handkerchief to Jessica.

  “Open it,” Austin said. “Maybe it will help me remember.”

  Jessica did as he said, and when she spread back the pieces of cloth, she gasped. Austin could see her expression was one of surprise but also of happiness.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She held up a gold band with sparkles of blue. “You promised me a wedding ring.”

  “Do you like it?” He struggled to remember exactly how it had come into his possession, but he trusted God would return the memory in time.

  “I love it. It’s perfect.” Her eyes welled again with tears. “I will cherish it.”

  “I know it’s a bit extravagant, but I figure you’re worth it. I wanted you to have the best.” He knew that much was true. He also remembered where the money had come from. “I took my savings and brought it with me. I knew I was going to buy you a ring.” He said the words more as an account of his agenda, hoping it would recall to mind the details.

  “Austin, I don’t need an extravagant ring,” Jessica said, meeting his gaze. “I just need you. And you need to get well and come home. You need to forget the past and move forward. Your brother and Grace and I believe even your parents wouldn’t want you to linger in guilt and sorrow. After all, your folks loved Jesus. They’re with Him now, and they know the truth of what happened. They don’t blame you anymore.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Austin replied, feeling more tired than he could remember ever being.

  “I believe my patient needs to rest,” the doctor declared. “We’re going to give him something to help him do so.”

  Jessica stood. “There’s a pocket watch, some money, and your Ranger badge in this cloth. Shall I keep these things for you?”

  Austin nodded and closed his eyes. “I’d feel better if you did. I don’t know how long I’ll have to be here, but as soon as I’m able to return to Texas, I will. I’ll have the Secret Service wire me money for the trip home. They owe me that

  much.”

  “They’re also paying for your hospital stay,” the doctor added. “And all fees associated with your injuries. Your friends said that this was the wish of a Mr. Turner.”

  Austin smiled. “Sounds like him.”

  Jessica hated leaving Colorado Springs when Austin was still in such a weakened state, but she knew her father had to return to the ranch. Howard and Isaac were returning after a long time away, and Father wanted to be there when they arrived home.

  “It won’t take him any time at all to recover,” Father told her as the train pulled out of the station. “And you will be so busy plannin’ the weddin’ that you won’t have time to miss him.”

  “I doubt that is true, but I will endeavor to focus on my duties,” Jessica replied. She grew thoughtful, almost fearful. “Father, you don’t think things could go wrong now, do you?”

  “With the weddin’?”

  She shook her head and peered past her father to the window. “No, I meant with Austin’s recovery. He couldn’t get . . . well . . . sicker, could he?”

  “The doc said he was strong and in good shape. He thought it would take a few weeks but that in time Austin would recover fully. I don’t think he figures on Austin failin’. And if I know that boy, he’ll recover in half the expected time.”

  “Why do you think that, Papa?”

  Her father laughed. “Because I was young once, too. If I had a pretty gal like you waitin’ for me to take her down the aisle . . . well, I wouldn’t be abed for long. Injuries or no injuries, nothin’ would keep me from my beloved.”

  Jessica smiled and put her head on her father’s shoulder. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for bringing me here and for encouraging me.”

  He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. Jessica relished the warmth of her father’s embrace. She tried hard to think of a hot Texas summer rather than the cold that nipped at her face and fingers.

  “It’s so good to be back in Texas.” Jessica sighed. “I don’t care if I never leave here again. It was so cold in Colorado.” She glanced in the shop windows of Dallas’s finest shopping district. She and her mother were making purchases for Jessica’s wedding and having a wonderful time together.

  “Before long the temperatures will be unbearable, and we’ll be saying how much we hate it. Then you’ll find yourself wishing for the cold,” her mother said with a smile. “Oh look, here’s the glove shop the dressmaker mentioned. I hope they have what we need.”

  Jessica followed her mother into the shop. She looked at the various sets of gloves Mother chose and tried on a couple of them. Mother wanted her to have full-length white gloves to wear with her wedding gown, since the dress was without sleeves.

  “I think these with the tiny pearl buttons are perfect,” her mother declared, once Jessica had donned the exquisite pair with silver embroidery vining along between the pearls.

  “I do, too, Mother. I think they’re the most beautiful gloves I’ve ever seen. But, you know, I don’t really need them. I would probably never wear them again.”

  “Nonsense. You might attend the opera or the symphony and need them then. Many brides wear their wedding finery again on their first anniversary. Now, let’s see what else you might need.”

  They spent a productive day shopping, and before they retired to their hotel room, Jessica and her mother shared supper in a restaurant a block away.

  “When did you say Austin is due back?” Mother asked.

  Jessica sampled the lemonade the server placed on the table. It was sweet, but not overly so, just as she preferred it. “He said he should be back by the middle of March.”

  “Are you sure you want to go ahead with the thirty-first for the wedding? That will give him only a couple weeks to get his affairs in order for the cerem
ony. Wouldn’t you rather wait until next month? April is such a lovely time for a wedding in Texas.”

  Jessica shook her head. “I would have married him in his hospital bed if I’d thought I could get away with it. No. He wants us to go forward with the thirty-first. He’s even arranged to buy a wedding suit in Colorado. The tailor has already come to measure and fit him there in the convalescent home. He’ll be ready, Mother. Never fear.”

  Her mother laughed. “I suppose I should have guessed that much. Your father would have been the same way.”

  The waitress brought them veal cutlets and fried polenta with cheese. There were cooked greens on the side, as well as fresh dinner rolls. It was a veritable feast, and Jessica savored the aroma as she slathered butter on her roll.

  Mother offered a prayer, and Jessica found herself thanking God for all that He had done in her life. She wasn’t yet completely transformed, and some of the old selfishness still rose up in her occasionally. I’m not perfect, she mused, knowing that she would never be so . . . on earth. She would continue to work hard, however, to change her bad habits and selfish ways. She was determined on that point.

  After a good night’s sleep, Jessica dressed with Mother’s help and accompanied her to breakfast and then to a final bridal gown fitting. As Jessica nervously stepped into the satin and lace gown, she couldn’t help but gasp. The reflection in the mirror made it all seem the more real. She was truly getting married.

  The dressmaker’s assistant worked at pinning the gown until it met the approval of her employer. The dressmaker herself walked around and around, critically reviewing the work and looking for flaws. Jessica felt rather like a pin cushion as they reworked a piece on the bodice. Oh, but it was a lovely dress with its beautiful train—the stuff of little-girl dreams and big-girl hopes.

  “I think you’ve done a beautiful job,” Mother told the dressmaker. “And you say it will be ready in a week?”

  “Yes, there isn’t that much left to do. We will reduce the waist and adjust the buttons in the back, then sew the final pieces of lace to the bodice and smooth some of those seams. Do you still wish for me to ship the gown to you?”