“Morgan’s still out looking,” Beth responded, wiping her face with her handkerchief and looking slightly embarrassed at her outburst.
“I never thought of that,” Jake responded, his voice filling with worry. “When did he leave?”
“Just before sundown last night.”
“Do you know which direction he headed out?”
“East,” Beth answered, more concern filling her face.
Working quickly, Jake unhitched the horse and stabled him. Leading his saddle horse from the barn, he readied the animal. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Thank you for keeping Katherine safe,” Beth called after him.
He hid the flash of guilt in his eyes by tugging the brim of his hat downward. Digging his bootheels in the horse’s flanks, he took off as quickly as possible in the deep snow that covered the ground. A lot of miles stretched ahead, and Jake wondered if Morgan would have the sense to stay on the road. The thought of Morgan either frozen to death or being pursued by a pack of wolves sent a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the wind that had picked up.
Hoping his friend hadn’t been foolishly courageous, Jake scoured the countryside, looking for Morgan’s distinctive gray-dappled horse. Glancing upward, Jake scanned the sky for more storm clouds, but the steady sea of blue was clear. He was grateful that this storm hadn’t been one of the blizzards that lasted three to four days, making roads impassable and burying cattle or wayward travelers beneath its impenetrable blanket.
Still, where was Morgan? They should have passed him as they returned to town that morning, unless he had ventured even farther out than Jake’s cabin. He deeply regretted not telling Morgan about the cabin. But if he had, then what? Would he have welcomed his friend to his hideaway with Katherine, the one they’d made special with their love? Or would Morgan have not ventured out, knowing they had shelter? Either way, guilt gnawed at him as the day grew longer and colder.
As more time passed, Jake’s worry increased. Miles of emptiness stared back at him as he scanned each acre. Long after he passed his own cabin, he still hadn’t seen any sign of Morgan. When a wagon appeared on the horizon, he shifted in the saddle, watching intently. Whoever was driving the wagon might have seen Morgan. Spurring the horse forward, he made decent time, despite the heavy accumulation of snow. As he neared, the other driver pulled up, and Jake recognized him as Abner Heaps.
“Afternoon, Abner.”
“Reverend.”
“I’m looking for a fella who could’ve got caught out in the storm.”
Abner hitched his head to the side, indicating the back of his wagon. “The saloon feller?”
Fearing the worst, Jake jumped off his horse in an instant. Morgan was stretched full length in the bed of the wagon. He was lying very still, too still. Jake swallowed, but as he continued to stare, Morgan’s eyes opened with an effort. Relief coursed through Jake as he hopped into the back of the wagon. “You old rascal, you scared ten years off me.”
“You aren’t the only one. Katherine?”
“She’s fine. We took shelter further up the road.”
Morgan’s eyelids flickered shut briefly. “Good.”
“Where’s your horse?” Jake asked, looking around but not seeing the distinctive animal.
“Dead.”
Jake refrained from echoing the words, but he knew if the horse was dead, Morgan was in bad shape. “If you could stand the company, I’ll tie my nag on the back of the wagon and ride in here with you. I’m getting tired of hanging on the saddle.”
“Suit yourself,” Morgan said in a weak voice, but Jake detected a note of relief.
He quickly outlined his plan to Abner, who merely shrugged as Jake tied the animal to the rear board of the wagon and then climbed aboard. Morgan was completely covered with blankets and quilts, and Jake wondered what damage was hidden beneath them.
The ride to town seemed interminable, each bump jostling Morgan’s inert form. Jake dreaded Katherine’s reaction. When they finally reached the side yard by the saloon, Katherine ran to greet them, and her cry of dismay was echoed by Hattie and Beth as they scurried forward to help. The moment of reckoning was here. Gathering his courage, Jake swept off the blankets. Morgan’s feet had been wrapped in big, clumsy bandages. “Do you think you can walk?” Jake asked, already suspecting the answer.
“I might not be quite as steady as I’d like to be.”
Swallowing, Jake tried to keep his face free of reaction. He only hoped the frostbite wouldn’t cause Morgan to lose his feet. “Tell you what. Abner and I can make a chair out of our arms and give you the royal treatment.”
Together he and Abner carried Morgan into the saloon and up the stairs to his room. Once Morgan was in his own bed, Jake turned to Katherine. “Send someone for the doctor.”
“But—”
“Now, Katherine.”
Hesitating for only a moment, she turned and ran down the stairs. Jake paced the rug in front of the dresser as Hattie bustled about, finding a fresh dressing gown and then bringing up a hot brick she’d warmed in the oven to take the chill from Morgan’s bed. The housekeeper built an enormous fire in the hearth, and Jake saw Beth add even more logs to the fire. What heat Morgan had lacked during the storm was more than being made up by the women.
When Katherine arrived with the doctor, Jake saw that her face had paled with fear. For once, he couldn’t comfort her. Morgan’s condition was a direct result of their actions, a fact he could not whitewash. Seeing that the women planned to stand and wring their hands during the doctor’s examination, Jake took charge. Herding them out of the bedroom, he took their squawks of protest in stride. “Hattie, could you make us a big pot of coffee?”
“Yessir, but Mr. Morgan—”
“Is best left with the doctor. You do want what’s best for him, don’t you?”
Her large dark eyes shone brightly for a moment. Then she swallowed and nodded. “I surely do.”
“Would it be convenient to serve the coffee in the upstairs sitting room?” he asked. He didn’t want to be far away if the doctor needed help. Katherine was uncharacteristically silent, her stricken features echoing his own thoughts. Beth looked as though her youth and inexperience were being tested to their furthest limits. David and Rebecca clutched their hands together, adulthood being far more than what they’d expected.
When they all walked into the sitting room, Annette turned with a start, staring at them. But she directed her question to Jake. “How is Morgan?”
“The doctor’s with him.”
“Then he’s not…” She was unable to utter the words.
“He’s going to be fine.” Jake’s voice gathered strength as he said the words, and he knew suddenly they were true. Morgan was a fighter. He wouldn’t give up if he thought there was something worth fighting for. Glancing at Katherine, he knew exactly what that something was.
An hour later, their coffee drunk, they all alternately paced the room. Katherine stood at the edge of the doorway, waiting, gripping her crumpled handkerchief. Annette sat apart from the others, holding herself rigid.
When Dr. Griffin approached the room, everyone leapt up and stared expectantly. “He’s suffering from exposure,” the doctor said quietly. “If it hadn’t been for his horse’s body heat, he’d be dead. But it’s still touch and go.”
“His feet?” Katherine asked weakly.
“Frostbite.” Gasps met his words. “But it could be worse. I’ve treated his feet, and we’ll have to watch and see. If gangrene doesn’t set it, he’ll regain their use. The next few days will tell.”
“What can we do?” Katherine asked.
“Pray, madam.”
Swallowing, Jake met the doctor’s eyes, knowing what he had to do.
Katherine walked the doctor to the door, and Jake followed her. When she started to go back up the stairs, he stopped her. Banking every emotion other than what was essential, Jake met her gaze. “This isn’t the time for blame, Katherine.” Whe
n she started to speak, he cut her off. “Don’t think I haven’t already felt my share of guilt, but that won’t help Morgan. He’s got to fight. But he won’t unless there’s something worth fighting for.” Swallowing, he ignored the pain gathering in his own heart. “You have to convince him that he’s fighting for you, Katherine.”
“But—”
“Do you want him to die?”
Stricken, her eyes widened and moisture gathered there.
Taking her hand, Jake resisted the urge to comfort her, knowing that convincing her was of paramount importance now. “If you’re going to cry, do it here, not in Morgan’s room. He needs your strength…” He paused for only a moment. “And your love.”
Seeing the gamut of emotions appear on her face, it took the bulk of his courage not to remind her that he, too, wanted that love.
“I understand,” she said softly.
He watched as she climbed the stairs, then he turned, surprised to see Abner Heaps waiting for him. Wondering how much the man had overheard and instantly deciding he didn’t care, Jake moved forward.
“Thanks, Abner. If you hadn’t found him, we’d be planning a funeral right now.”
“It was a hell of a sight. He was tryin’ to keep his horse alive.”
Jake stared at Abner inquiringly.
“Animal broke his leg. We had to finish him off. Like to killed your friend. Then, when I didn’t know anything about you and the lady, it was like he gave up.”
Jake realized that Morgan must have thought them dead. Guilt nearly strangled Jake now—Morgan had almost died trying to save them while they were safe, making love through the night.
And what Abner had told him about the horse saddened him further. He knew Morgan had loved the horse with a passion he seldom showed toward anything else. He could imagine his friend’s pain when they’d killed the animal. Jake shook Abner’s hand, thanking him again as he led him to the kitchen, where Hattie offered him hot coffee and food.
Continuing on out the back door, Jake passed the sparring ring, now almost completely covered by the snow. So many days they’d spent there, forming the only friendship he’d been able to count on since he’d come to Browning.
Inside the parsonage, Jake paused at the sideboard. His and Morgan’s sparring gloves had been carelessly discarded there since their last bout. Picking them up, he remembered Morgan’s joy at the gift of gloves that diehard barefisted fighters referred to as pillows. The soft leather rested in his hands, and Jake wondered if Morgan would recover. If he did, would he be the same healthy vibrant man or an amputee?
Sinking into a chair next to the window, Jake examined his conscience. A painful process under the best of circumstances, now it was torture of the worst kind. One thing he couldn’t deny. Both Katherine and Morgan had been content with their lives before he’d entered the picture. Now Katherine was torn in half, and Morgan could be dying or crippled for life.
Staring out of the window, Jake watched the very still-looking saloon. The steady outward appearance gave little clue to the turbulence inside. Glancing down at the gloves he still held, he knew the pain wasn’t contained next door. The love he’d just asked Katherine to give away was one he’d refused to acknowledge until now. He loved her. And if it meant her happiness, he would watch her take that love and walk out of his life with Morgan. The wind stirred the shutters on the window, and Jake heard the slamming as it echoed in his heart.
Chapter 40
The days passed slowly. But as each one ended, Morgan moved a step closer to recovery and that much farther from death. Still incredibly weak, he rallied enough to complain about all the fuss everyone made over him. Encouraged by his reaction, Jake took to spending hours with him, telling him he’d better get well soon, or the women would continue their mothering until he went crazy. Sometimes all he got in response was Morgan’s weak attempt at his former lazy grin. At other times Morgan was too weak to respond at all. As time passed, Jake could see the changes in Katherine.
No longer shifting her gaze so that it could meet his, she kept her attention solely on Morgan. It was as though sparing Jake even a glance would somehow take something away from Morgan.
Jake crossed the yard, seeing everyone gathered together at the kitchen table in the saloon. Katherine, Beth, David, and Rebecca sat over their meal while Hattie served them. Avoiding that door, he entered through the front, quietly closing the door behind him, hoping no one would hear him. He couldn’t stand to see Katherine’s face, all of the shutters she’d dropped in place.
After climbing the stairs, he paused at the doorway to Morgan’s room. Annette sat quietly in the chair nearest his bedside. She held Morgan’s hand as she talked. Overhearing part of the conversation, Jake was torn. She was apologizing, over and over again. Part of him knew he shouldn’t intrude; another part of him desperately wanted to know what she was so sorry for.
Voices rose up from the stairwell, and he was certain Annette would hear them as well within seconds. Clearing his throat, he made it sound as though he’d just arrived. “Annette, how’s he doing?”
She whipped her face around, suspicion clouding her features. Dropping Morgan’s hand, she rose from the chair. “I’m not sure. The same, I guess.”
Jake kept his pose casual. “You don’t have to leave. I’m sure he gets tired of hearing my voice day after day.”
“No, I’ve got things to do.”
Watching Annette leave, Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that something more had transpired than he knew. Had she realized that Morgan had gone out to find him and Katherine, just as she had probably known they were going to visit Minerva Atkins the day someone had sabotaged their wagon?
Two such close calls seemed more than coincidental. Someone had alerted Morgan that both he and Katherine were missing. Staring after Annette, he wondered.
Within two weeks Morgan had recovered enough to sit up and complain loudly. Each bellow brought a smile to the faces around him. Now the big question was whether he’d have the use of his feet. So far the doctor had guardedly reported no sign of gangrene. Uncharacteristically, Morgan hadn’t attempted to try to walk.
After a talk with the doctor, Jake knew it was up to him to prod Morgan into venturing beyond the safe confines of his bed. He had refused to cooperate with the doctor, and Jake sensed the problem. Fear.
At first Jake had wondered if Morgan prolonged his bedrest just to keep Katherine’s undivided attention. But Morgan wasn’t like some men who could adjust easily to a handicap and call himself lucky to be alive.
For that reason Jake had collected all the weapons on the upper floor and locked them in the storeroom. If Morgan couldn’t walk, he wouldn’t be able to end his own life.
Easing open the front door, Jake nearly jumped when he found himself eye to eye with Katherine.
“I was just going to the store…” she began.
“Coming to see Morgan…” Jake said at the same time.
Self-consciously they stared at each other in the sudden silence.
“Look, Katherine. I’m going to get him up today.”
“But what if he’s not ready?” Concern flared in her eyes along with the protective stance she’d adopted toward Morgan since the blizzard.
“On his own he may never be ready. But the doctor says he needs to try. If his feet are going to work, he needs to use the muscles, or they’ll waste away till he can’t.”
“But he’s still in pain!”
Jake grasped her shoulders, steeling himself when she flinched. “It’s going to hurt today, tomorrow, or next week. But he’s got to try.”
She lowered her drawstring purse to the table and started to unpin her hat.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked.
“I’m going to help you. If it must be done, we’ll do it together.”
“No.”
“What?” Her face reddened in anger.
“He’s a proud man, Katherine. If he fails he won’t want you to be there to see him
.”
Expecting an argument, he was surprised when she met his gaze and then secured her hat. Picking up her purse, she opened the door before glancing back at him. “Thank you, Jake.” Her eyes held his before finally breaking away, her voice shaking with emotion. “For everything.”
She rushed out the door, and he looked up the staircase. He sensed it would be the longest climb of his life.
Morgan was even less cooperative than Jake had expected. After an hour of reasoning, Jake was ready to dump his friend out of bed and onto the floor. Exasperated, he used his final shot. “If you’re too scared to try, then just lay there.”
Jake started to apologize, but even as he formed the words, Morgan pulled back the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed, staring down at his feet at they dangled just above the floor. “I guess this is it.”
Moving forward, Jake offered his support. Their eyes met briefly, and Jake wondered how he would feel if their positions were reversed. Inching his feet down until they touched the floor, Morgan took a deep breath before attempting to stand.
Waves of pain crossed his face at the contact, but he didn’t buckle. Gripping Morgan’s arm, Jake stood beside him as he took a few tentative steps. Relief filled Morgan’s face, and even though Jake knew the pain hadn’t diminished, it wasn’t as important as the discovery that he wasn’t crippled.
Katherine covered her mouth to prevent her gasp from being overheard. She stayed away for more than an hour, but now she was happy she’d witnessed this moment. Tears glistened on her cheeks as she watched the two men she loved. Despite her brave show for Morgan, she had doubted he’d be able to walk again. Knowing the bittersweet pain of his success, Katherine wanted to embrace each man and assure them that they would all be happy. The contradiction mocked her.
Backing farther away so she wouldn’t be seen, Katherine felt her body tremble with all the emotions she’d refused to acknowledge during the past few weeks.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t abandon either man. Stumbling down the hall, she escaped into her own room. Pushing the curtains aside, she gazed outside, knowing the answers didn’t lurk there, either.
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