The woman lurched up in bed, sitting erect. She clutched her stomach. “The baby. Christopher, the baby is coming. Oh, Christopher, my water broke shortly after I fell. The pains are coming.”
—was out of the question, obviously.
The afternoon turned into the longest day of Beth’s life.
With no plaster to make a cast, Alex did his best to splint and bind the ankle into immobility. When he had Mrs. Radcliff settled as well as could be expected, he grabbed Beth and rushed back to check on Sally.
Beth insisted he go and leave her to tend Mrs. Radcliff. She was still insisting when he dragged her into the building where Sally lay being coddled and fussed over by Ma and Pa.
Showing no signs of their mad dash except for breathing hard, Alex checked Sally quickly but thoroughly, his words reassuring as he explained the reason for their absence.
Ma gave Beth a significant look, shifting her eyes to Alex, very obviously asking what in the world was going on with the man. Beth shrugged, and Ma shook her head and went back to watching Sally.
When Alex finished his exam, he said, “Things look as if they’re going well here. We need to get back to Mrs. Radcliff.”
“One of us will come down if she shows any sign of trouble,” Pa said. “You stay and tend to the parson’s wife now.”
“Alex, I could stay and watch—” Beth didn’t get to finish. He had her in hand again.
As they hustled down the sidewalk, Alex gave her a frantic look. “Quit trying to get rid of me. I’ll never survive this afternoon without you.”
“That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
And since the crazy man was absolutely serious, Beth kept up as they raced back to Mrs. Radcliff’s side. Whatever he did—and he did a lot that afternoon—he was professional, skilled, and kind. And through every second of it, he clung to Beth like she was some kind of talisman who was the source of his power. He wouldn’t let her step away for even an instant.
Four long years of hard work, long nights, intense training, and massive textbooks, and Beth had been reduced to a lucky charm.
Thirteen
His name’s Buchanan.” Cletus knew he’d put the question wrong. He’d not get a single word out of this bunch. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from goading them. “Man claims he’s a doctor but he’s got blood on his hands, and I’m here to see that he’s brought to justice before he kills again.”
Stony silence greeted him. These shiftless skunks didn’t know Cletus was a lawman. He’d been a no-account himself at one time but no more. He had money and a fine horse and a sharp outfit of clothes and the best gun money could buy. This scum needed to learn how to treat their betters, and Cletus burned with the need to teach them at the end of a shooting iron. But the four men sitting at the table dealing into a card game had watchful eyes and they kept their gun hands loose and ready.
Cletus should’ve come in and asked if he could join the game. He knew how to play cards and men with equal skill. But he’d been edgy and anxious to track down the doc and he’d gone straight to questioning them. Knowing he’d lost out, Cletus tried to act as if he didn’t care. With a shrug, he said, “I heard tell of a man by that name down this’a way matched his description.”
“We mind our own business, mister,” the closest poker player said, drawing long on his cigar. “Healthy man might wanta do the same.”
A little chill climbed Cletus’s spine at the measured drawl, clearly a threat. Cletus nodded. There were others in town. He’d handle them better than he had this trash. Probably a bunch of outlaws themselves. Cletus decided then and there he’d start bounty hunting as soon as the last of the deserting cowards were rounded up.
Cletus sidled away from the men, not wanting to turn his back. He stepped out on the wooden sidewalk in the little cow town and stalked away, his feet thudding hard on the boards, grumbling. Seeing a diner ahead, he headed for it.
Gathering the frayed edges of his temper, he walked inside and noticed three long tables, two of them empty. Normal for mid-morning. The third had four men sitting at it. A hefty, grizzled man with a cigar dangling from his lips came through swinging doors carrying a coffeepot.
“Want a cup?”
“Yep. Obliged.” Cletus sat at the table with the others.
One looked like he lived in town. Dark pants and a vest over a white shirt. Two others were dusty and sweat soaked, with a Stetson lying on the table beside each. Most likely cowpokes. The third wore a black leather vest, and when he shifted, Cletus noticed a star on his chest. A lawman. Cletus never went directly to the law in any town. Too much chance of the lawman going after the deserter and claiming the reward for himself.
The coffee slapped onto the table in front of him and Cletus was good and trapped. He couldn’t ask any questions and he couldn’t leave without drawing notice. For now he was thwarted, but not for long. Instead of asking questions, Cletus listened. Sometimes he learned more keeping his mouth shut anyway.
Alex had no idea why he hadn’t kept his mouth shut.
Not today. It’d already been too late today.
But yesterday, on the stage. Deltoideus. He could have helped Beth like an untrained cowboy. But oh no, he had to say the word deltoideus. He had to spout off medical words. Now here he was, as good as branded with the name of doctor.
He almost ran screaming when he saw the Armitages. Mrs. Armitage supported her husband. Leo’s arm was in a sling, and his face was pasty white. No doubt from exhaustion and pain, but what if he’d reinjured himself?
“Doctor.” Mrs. Armitage waved as if he might have missed them coming straight at him on the one and only sidewalk.
He’d just checked Sally for the fourth time and he needed to get back to Vivian Radcliff. Her time was coming close. Beth had promised to look in on Leo and Camilla today. Fine, these were her patients. Except he hadn’t let Beth out of his sight.
Beth must have sensed his desire to cut and run because she grabbed his hand in a vise.
“This way, folks. Come on in to Dr. Buchanan’s office.” Beth waved her arm toward the building Sally was lying in.
Dr. Buchanan’s office? Where had that come from? “I am not a doctor,” Alex growled under his breath.
“Shut up and get in there. I’m going to go get help to move Mrs. Radcliff down here so you can tend everyone at once without running back and forth.”
Alex dug his fingers into hers. He could out-vise her any day of the week. “If you leave, I swear I’ll make a break for it and you’ll never see me again.”
The Armitages narrowed the gap between them.
“I should anyway. You can handle this.” Alex’s gaze met hers. “I’ll go. You take over. You needed me for your sister but not for the rest of this.”
“Give me strength.”
Alex was pretty sure she was praying. Good, let God give her all the strength she needed, and while she was at it, she oughta ask for some strength for him, too. Alex didn’t think he had much coming from God. Or more honestly, Alex admitted he was too ashamed to ask.
“I’ll get Pa to help the parson move his wife.”
“She’ll be loud and out of control birthing a baby. We can’t have that while we’re trying to keep Sally quiet.”
“My sister’s tougher than you think. I’d wager Mrs. Radcliff is tougher than you think. And no matter how wimpy they are, it’s a sure bet that they’re all tougher than you.”
“Hey, Doc.” Leo Armitage was looking straight at Alex. Beth had done more for him yesterday than Alex had. The guy was a jerk to pretend Alex was the doctor.
Alex looked at her, expecting resentment.
She smiled, the picture of competence and calm … and strength. “Step right in here to the doctor’s office. Dr. Buchanan will have a look at your arm. We’ve had a busy day already today. Is it all right if we go check on the parson’s wife while you wait? She’s in labor.”
“
Of course. We don’t mind waiting.” Mrs. Armitage acted like she was a bit early for her appointment.
“There aren’t any chairs. Won’t you get tired standing so long?” Alex focused on the sick one of the group. Let Mr. Armitage decide his own fate.
“I’ll be fine. I might settle on the floor though. We’ll find a place to get comfortable. I appreciate the help you gave me yesterday, Dr. Buchanan.” He let his wife get the door then thanked her so kindly, Alex was humbled. Sure, he’d punched Alex in the nose, but other than that, the guy was a true gentleman.
The couple went in.
Beth went back to dragging Alex.
“I am not a doctor,” Alex said.
“Give me strength.” Beth looked up toward heaven.
The parson’s wife, brave pioneer woman that she was, agreed to move to the doctor’s office on her injured ankle. Adam and Laurie had vanished with all the children. Tillie was put in charge of moving bedding to the office. As soon as Tillie headed out, and the poor laboring woman was between pains, Alex and the parson carried Mrs. Radcliff down the street with Beth holding the doors.
Alex’s doctor’s office now had a delivery room, a post-surgical recovery room, and a waiting room. All in the same room, granted, but still, it was almost a city hospital.
Tillie left. She said she was determined to find Adam and save all those children. Alex snorted. Adam was probably in more danger than the kids. Pa rode with Tillie, promising to return as soon as Tillie was safe at home.
Leo Armitage was checked over thoroughly and sent on his way.
Mrs. Radcliff was delivered of a squalling son.
Sally went to sleep.
Beth settled in to sit with Sally and her mother for the night.
Parson Radcliff was busy helping his wife get comfortable on a bedroll on the floor, propping her up so she could cradle her baby.
The door swung open and Alex jumped, afraid of what else might happen.
Clay McClellen’s spurs clinked as he stepped inside, dragging his Stetson off his head. “I left your son with Adam for the night, Parson. I didn’t see any sense bringing him back here. I can ride out and fetch him home in the morning.”
“Thanks, Clay. Obliged to you and Adam and Tillie for caring for him. I haven’t been a very good father to Andy today.”
Clay gave him a good-natured slap on the back. “You’re doing fine. That’s what a church family is for.”
“Clay, why don’t you ride on home with Beth now,” Ma said.
“She’s not going anywhere.” Alex found his doctor voice somewhere.
“I’m staying, Ma. Alex has to keep watch over Mrs. Radcliff for a while longer then help Parson carry her home. I’ll be needed here with Sally. You go on home and get some rest. Alex and I’ll watch Sally. In the morning, ride in with Pa when he picks up Andrew and you can spell me.”
“No, you’re not staying in here tonight.” All Clay’s good humor vanished. “It ain’t proper.”
Alex tensed at the narrow-eyed look on Clay’s face.
“Nothing improper will go on here, Clay.” Alex wasn’t letting Beth go. If she went, he went.
“It’s out of the question,” Sophie stood next to Beth like a guardian angel in a petticoat.
“No, Alex, she can’t spend the night here with you.” Clay spoke on top of his wife.
If she left he couldn’t do it. He’d look at the poor girl with her throat slit and think of that woman dead over the cliff yesterday. Without Beth he’d start seeing the dead and dying in war. He might fall asleep. He might dream.
“I’ll stay,” Sophie said. Alex looked at the dark circles of fatigue under Sophie’s eyes. The woman needed rest.
“You’ll have your hands full with Sally tomorrow, Sophie.” Clay clutched his hat brim in both hands, clearly worried. “She’ll be feeling better, and you’ll be the only one who can keep her quiet. You know I don’t have the knack. But I can stay tonight when she’s probably going to mostly sleep.”
“Isn’t that shipment of horses being driven in tomorrow?” Sophie asked. “You have to be home.”
Clay paused, his eyes narrow. “I’ll manage. Or Eustace can see to caring for the new stock.”
Beth snorted as if she was fed up. “If you don’t sleep tonight you’ll have to sleep tomorrow, Ma. I might as well do my turn now.”
“You’re just as tired as I am.” Sophie didn’t budge.
“I worked long shifts at the hospital. I’m used to it. And I can’t sleep now anyway. I need to wait until Mrs. Radcliff’s ready to go home and Sally is settled for the night. Until then I can’t leave anyway. You and Pa go.”
“No.” Clay stood firm.
“I’m fine.” Beth crossed her arms.
“You can’t stay here alone with Dr. Buchanan,” Parson Radcliff chimed in. “Sally isn’t a sufficient chaperone. I assume you’ve been raised to know what’s good and proper.” The parson gave Alex a fire-and-brimstone look if ever there was one.
Alex wondered if maybe his throat was swelling shut. Beth could not leave him. He looked at the traitor pastor. “You’ve been falling all over yourself thanking me for helping your wife. And now you accuse me of treating Beth with anything but the utmost respect.”
“That’s not the point.” The parson sounded downright starchy.
“Beth leaves or you leave.” Clay jabbed his finger at Alex. “Or someone else stays.” Clay said it like he was reading it straight off a stone tablet carved by the finger of God.
Alex felt all the old fear, the nightmarish torment, welling up inside him. He took a half step backward. “She can’t leave. Don’t you want to stay with me, Beth?”
“I do.” Beth was at his side in an instant, holding his hand firmly, sounding as if she’d just taken a vow. And Alex supposed she had. She was still trying to protect him. Stop him from making a fool of himself.
“That’s the perfect answer.” The parson slapped his forehead with the heel of his hands. “I mean it’s as if God Himself is shaking us, trying to see what’s right before our eyes.”
“What?” Alex felt hope.
“Right before our eyes where?” Sophie looked up from watching every breath Sally took.
“Give me strength,” Beth whispered her standard prayer.
“Absolutely not.” Clay slapped his thigh with his hat.
That must mean Clay at least knew what the crazy parson was talking about. He had a hunch Beth did, too. What else did she need strength for right now?
“I thought of it when Beth said, ‘I do.’ They can get married.” The parson smiled as pleased as if he’d just given birth himself. He had—to a harebrained idea.
“What?” Alex looked down at their joined hands. It made no more sense now that it’d been said out loud.
“That idea isn’t before my eyes.” Sophie’s blond brows lowered to a straight, angry line. “They only met yesterday.”
“Absolutely not.” Clay had known what the parson meant.
“And how long did you and Clay know each other before you got hitched?” the parson asked.
“I’m not sure even God can give me that much strength,” Beth muttered.
Strength enough to run away from Alex? Or to marry him? Because suddenly, to Alex, it made perfect sense. For some reason the world made sense with Beth at his side. Having, holding, from this day forward. Yes! He found stores of strength and courage inside himself. God himself was shaking Alex for sure. He might even be able to go back to doctoring … not that he was a doctor.
“Beth, will you marry me?”
Fourteen
Beth’s eyes locked on Alex’s and she couldn’t get free. That same weird, deep contact that seemed to tap energy from her bones and heart and soul.
She considered herself a levelheaded person. Good in a crisis. Thinking things through, but at the same time acting fast.
Right this minute, her brain seemed to be stuffed with gauze padding. Gauze padding soaked in laudanum. Stupid and
numb, pinned by Alex’s gaze.
“Uhhh …” Beth drew that sound out awhile.
“No. That isn’t a possibility.” Ma was talking but she wasn’t making sense, not through the laudanum and gauze.
“Let’s get home, Beth.” Pa crossed his arms with that “I’ve got a revolver and I’m not afraid to use it” look he sometimes got; but that didn’t break the connection with Alex.
“One day,” Parson Radcliff said so loudly Beth almost understood what that meant. “Parson Roscoe told me the whole story. Clay, you knew Sophie one day and not a full day at that when you married her. And you spent most of that day unconscious.”
“That was different.” Pa’s voice came from far away and nearby at the same time. He’d come to stand next to Beth, Alex clinging to her hand.
Ma had rounded that counter that before had been between her and the rest of the room. She still kept one hand resting on Sally to make sure she didn’t move, but she’d narrowed the gap between herself and Beth.
The parson came close and kept telling the story of Ma and Pa’s wedding day, a story Beth had heard many times. Which is why it seemed so easy to ignore the telling now.
“He was family.” Sophie kept her hand on Sally.
Beth glanced down at Sally, sleeping. Alive because Alex had known what to do. And Alex would never have come through if Beth hadn’t been handy to browbeat him. Not exactly a good basis for a marriage … marriage … marriage. Marriage? Beth’s head went numb again. She’d almost pulled out of it there for a minute.
Parson Radcliff’s son started crying, underscoring to Beth why she needed to stay. The baby was fine. Mrs. Radcliff’s ankle would heal. Mr. Armitage’s arm was going to be fine. Beth could have maybe done all of that, though not as well as Dr. Loco here who now spoke.
“We’ll be fine. We’ve made a connection today that will get us through.” Alex’s gaze took on a desperate edge. His hand tightened on hers until the pain almost seeped through the numbness in her head. The man was afraid she’d leave him.
And she was afraid he’d abandon her little sister. Not because Alex was weak. His behavior was too completely out of control for such a normal word. The man was a lunatic who somehow could tap into sanity when he looked her in the eye. What did that make her? A human straitjacket?
Sophie's Daughters Trilogy Page 9