Lillie laughed. “Spoken like a true woman!”
Dan rolled his eyes. “That’s for sure.”
Within a matter of days, the four of them fell into a companionable routine. For Joelle, mornings were spent fixing breakfast while Dan and Lillie examined and bathed John. Each day, Dan charted John’s progress and reported it to the army doctor, who in turn reported it back to John’s superiors at Fort Bliss.
Dan devised a series of exercises for John that were designed to strengthen his arms. He reasoned with his son that once the swelling around the spine had sufficiently decreased, the time would come when John would need the extra muscle.
John was not the best patient and Joelle often told him so. She refused to give him a single bit of sympathy, and John’s frustration with her presence seemed to take on new life.
“Did you enjoy your breakfast?” Joelle asked, coming into John’s room.
“Did you make it?”
“Why yes, I did,” Joelle replied sweetly.
“I figured as much,” John said, looking away. The fact was, he had enjoyed the breakfast very much, but he was not about to let her know that. He had to force himself at times just to keep up the façade of being angry with her, in hopes that she would go home. Now was no exception, especially in light of the way she looked.
“Look at the mess you made,” Joelle chided, coming to retrieve his breakfast tray. “I suppose next thing you know, I’ll have to feed you as well as fix your meals.”
“Nobody asked you to fix anything. In fact, nobody even asked you to be here,” John stated in a low voice. His anger was evident, yet he still tried to tidy the messiness around his tray while stealing glances at Joelle.
She swept his hands away and took the task in hand, trying again to get some response regarding his food. “Did you enjoy your omelette? I got the recipe from a bona fide French chef.” John said nothing, but seeing that he had eaten every bit of it, Joelle smiled. “I guess you did.”
He watched her cross the room and thought that there had never been a more beautiful woman alive. He allowed himself to linger on her turned back, wishing he could touch the long, dark braid that bound her hair. I can’t do this to her, he thought angrily. I have to get her away from me. With a heavy sigh he faced Joelle as she turned back to the bed. “Joelle, when are you going to get tired of playing nursemaid?”
“When are you going to get tired of playing invalid?” she shot back at him without so much as a blink of her eyes.
A noticeable tick in John’s cheek warned Joelle that his wrath was not far behind. “I’m not playing at anything,” he growled.
“Neither am I,” she mimicked his tones.
“Joelle!”
“John!” she countered and paused to rid the bed of the remaining toast crumbs. Reaching out to brush the bits away, she found her wrist encircled with John’s steel-like grip.
“I see you’re gaining hand strength,” she said, refusing to flinch under the increasing pressure. “Those exercises must be paying off.”
“Go home, Joelle.”
“I am home, John. Wherever you are, that’s my home.” Her words were soft and sure, and it was John who flinched and lost his nerve. Joelle’s eyes were dark and her face was flushed from their confrontation.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he moaned, releasing her arm.
“Like what?” Joelle asked, straightening up.
“Never mind, just get out of here.”
“I was going, but I’ll be back after I wash the dishes. I’m going to help you with some new exercises,” she said and went to retrieve the tray.
“Oh no, you’re not,” John declared. “Mom or Dad can do that.”
“Your father has been asked by the army doctor to give him a hand at the hospital. Your mother is out shopping for some of the things we need. So you see, there is no one else and the exercises must be done.” She stared back at him so matter-of-factly that John could think of no reply.
“Now, finish your coffee and I’ll be back shortly.” She handed him his cup and turned to retrieve the tray.
“It’s not going to work, Joelle.”
Joelle paused at the door. “What’s not going to work, Beloved?” she asked innocently.
“This game you and my folks are playing. You think you can make me well by the sheer will of your desires, and it’s not going to work. I may never walk again. You have to face facts.”
“I do believe you’re afraid to walk again. What’s the matter, John? Can’t bear the thought of having to face your army buddies and explain the crash?” John’s jaw dropped, and Joelle immediately wanted to take the words back. She did not like being contrary, especially when all she wanted to do was take him in her arms and hold him close. She wanted to convince him that if he stayed in a bed the rest of his life, she would still love him, but Dan had assured her there was nothing productive in that.
Steadying herself to keep the confrontational spirit alive, Joelle appeared almost smug at his continued silence. “I thought so. I’ve faced the fact that you might never walk again, John darling. But I think you haven’t been able to face the fact that you very well may.” With that she left the room, pulling the door closed. She had barely taken a step toward the kitchen when the reverberating crash of John’s coffee mug hit the door behind her.
Setting the tray on the table, Joelle went back to John’s room and opened the door enough to survey the shattered pieces of the cup. “Well, at least you drank the coffee. It makes less of a mess to clean up.” Seeing John clench his fist, Joelle only smiled. “I’ll tell your mom we’d better lay in a supply of cups.”
Before approaching John’s room again, Joelle finished the dishes and tidied the rest of the room. She was weary of their fighting, but she knew that a spark of life had come back into John, which Dr. Dan had said had been absent after the crash.
In the hospital, Dan had told her John had become quite complacent with his injuries. He was angry, yes, but totally uncooperative when it came to working through the healing process. He wanted no one to touch him, and he refused to allow the doctor to so much as to suggest the future possibilities of using a wheelchair or crutches. Now, Joelle knew full well that the exercises Dan had devised for John were intentionally designed to progress him toward one or the other of those very subjects. God help them all when John figured it out.
“Are you ready to get to work?” Joelle asked, coming into the room.
“I told you I wasn’t going to work with you and I won’t.”
“The sooner you cooperate, the sooner I’ll leave you alone.”
“For good?” John asked her blatantly.
For the first time, John’s words had cut her to the quick. Joelle was speechless for a moment. Was that the price of John’s recovery? Did she dare to push him so hard that his resentment of her interference would forever sever their relationship? Was she killing their love?
Joelle studied him for a moment. The swelling had gone from his face and the healthy color had returned. For all intent and purpose, he looked the picture of health, except for the fact that he was in a cast and still unable to feel anything below the waist.
With tears in her eyes, Joelle made her decision. “If that’s the price to see you walking again, then so be it.” She turned away from him to retrieve some hand weights that Dan had fashioned, and she dabbed the tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Joelle.”
The words caught her off guard and her tears started anew. It was the first civil thing he had said to her since the accident. Refusing to acknowledge them, she froze.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. This isn’t fair to either one of us, but then I suppose nothing in life guarantees us fairness.” He paused for a moment. “I can’t bear
to think of you married to me like this. You’re young and alive and healthy and whole, and you deserve to be with someone who is likewise. I can’t give you the future you deserve. Can’t you try to understand that?”
Joelle swallowed hard and turned to face him. The tears on her cheeks glistened when the sunlight from the window fell across her face. Her voice was but a whisper as she spoke. “ ‘Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.’ ”
Their eyes met. “Joelle,” he groaned in a sad, childlike way, “please don’t do this to me.”
What all of John’s anger could not accomplish, these simple words did. Broken completely, Joelle dropped the weights to the floor and fled the room with a sob.
Chapter 6
It was in the middle of the night when John woke the house with his anguished cries of pain. Lillie and Joelle both came running from the room they shared to find Dan bent over his son, rapidly massaging his right thigh.
“What is it!” Lillie exclaimed.
Both women were surprised when Dan turned to face them with a grin. “He’s got a cramp in his leg and he feels it!”
Lillie and Joelle exchanged looks of astonishment. “He feels it!” Lillie said to Joelle. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“It doesn’t feel so wonderful from this end of it, Mom.”
Lillie moved to her son’s bedside. “I hope it hurts enough to give you the desire to regain what you once had. I don’t want you to live in pain, but I want you to feel everything that happens to that leg, for the rest of your life.”
John looked up to meet his mother’s eyes. “Me too, Mom.” He winced painfully. “Me too.”
Joelle stood back by the door and watched the scene. John caught sight of her in the amber glow of the room. She was wearing a long white gown with a soft blue shawl drawn around her. Her long dark hair, usually pinned neatly in a bun, fell in a swirl of curls to her hips, and John longed to touch the chestnut softness. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld, and in that moment, he was glad that she had refused to leave him.
When their eyes met, it was like he was seeing her for the first time, and after the words they had exchanged earlier in the day, he could tell Joelle was still feeling cautious.
The cramp passed and everyone made their way back to bed. It was a long time before Joelle could drift back to sleep, however. She had seen the look in John’s eyes and knew that he still loved her. The thing that troubled her most, however, was wondering if she was truly doing the right thing in staying. Maybe she was more torture to him, than help. How could she possibly know?
Within her heart, a voice seemed to whisper, Trust Me, Joelle. She knew instantly that the voice was not of her own doing. A peace began to filter through her body, and within minutes she was fast asleep.
The following morning brought a fierce wind that blew the sand about in such a vicious way that it nearly stripped the whitewash from the bank. It was nothing compared to the true sandstorms of the spring, folks assured Lillie and Joelle, but nevertheless, it was torturous and required that all of the windows be closed tight against the assault.
It was in the midst of this onslaught when a visitor arrived at the Monroe house. The weatherworn man quickly introduced himself as John’s superior from Fort Bliss.
“Major Camstead, Ma’am,” the man said upon entry. He removed his peaked campaign hat and tucked it under his arm. “I arrived this morning on business at Camp Furlong and they told me I might find Lieutenant Monroe here.”
Lillie smiled at the man. “Yes, my son is here. He’s still recovering from his accident, but I’m sure they told you this.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied. “I would like to speak with him about the accident, if you think he’s up to it.”
Joelle moved to the bedroom door. “I’ll check and see if he’s awake.”
Lillie nodded, while Joelle went in to announce the major’s arrival to John. “I’m certain my son will be happy for the company, Major. Lately, he’s seen little of anyone but family.”
“Speaking of family,” the major mumbled, reaching into his pocket, “Sergeant Monroe sends his regards.” He handed an envelope to Lillie.
“It’s from J.D.?” she questioned, then noted the handwriting. “How kind of you to bring it all this way. Thank you, Major.”
The man blushed and feeling quite uncertain as to what he should do next, was greatly relieved when Joelle returned. “He’s awake and said to join him at your convenience.”
Major Camstead dismissed himself with a curt nod. “Ma’am,” he said to Lillie, then again to Joelle as he passed to the bedroom. At the door he paused long enough to close it, much to the disappointment of both Lillie and Joelle.
Giving John a brief once over, Camstead grinned. “Well, Preacher, looks like you made a mess of yourself this time,” he said, coming to pull a chair along John’s bed.
“You’re a long way from home, Bob,” John replied, using his hands to push himself up on the pillows. The informality he took with the major had long ago been agreed upon between them.
“Had business with the Thirteenth and thought a visit to you was in order. How’s it coming?”
“Slow,” John replied. “Way too slow.”
“Give it time. You can’t expect everything your way. Say, that little brown-eyed beauty out there,” Camstead said with a nod, “she doesn’t belong to you, does she?”
John’s grin broadened to a full-blown smile. “As a matter of fact, she does.”
“Some guys have all the luck.”
John nodded uncomfortably. “But you didn’t come all this way to talk about my love life, now did you?”
“No, actually I wanted to know about the crash. Wanna tell me about it willingly or shall I order you around?” He smiled and John shook his head.
“I’m not sure I could take an order seriously. I can salute, but I sure can’t get up and snap to.”
“I’ll take the story,” the man replied. “You can salute me later.”
John laughed, but thoughts of the accident sobered him rather quickly. “I was at about fifteen hundred feet when she started handling rough. The whole engine seemed like it was going to shake right out from the cowling. I shut her down to see what I could make of it, and when the prop was slowed to where it was just windmilling, I could see it had splintered apart. There was a good six inches missing off the end on one side.”
“We’re having a bad time of that down here. The air’s so dry it’s causing us to have to remove the props and put them in humidified rooms to keep them from coming unglued.”
“Well, I wish you’d have figured that out before it happened to me.”
“Me too, John. You don’t know how sorry I was to hear about your crash.”
John met his friend’s eyes. They had known each other for little over a year now, but Major Robert Camstead had quickly become one of John’s closest comrades-in-arms.
“I’m glad you came, Bob,” John said, trying to move the conversation away from the maudlin. “I sure didn’t know how I’d get to you.”
“Is there anything you need that you aren’t getting around here?”
“No, I have it all. Two beautiful women waiting on me hand and foot. My own personal physician and plenty of creature comforts. Who could ask for more?” John replied.
“Well, I promised J.D. I’d check you out in person,” Bob said, referring to John’s brother. “In fact, I just handed over a letter from him to your mother.”
“Will you be here awhile?”
“No. Duty calls, and I have to get back in time to catch the eastbound.”
“You mean to tell me you didn’t fly over?” John questioned in disbelief.
&nb
sp; “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a sandstorm blowing around out there. It isn’t a bad one, but I sure wouldn’t attempt to fly through the thing. Besides, I came by train last night and that’s the way they expect me to make it back.”
“Yeah, well take the sand with you all the way back to Fort Bliss.”
“For you, my boy, anything,” Bob said and extended his hand. “John, you let us know if you need something. Anything at all, okay?”
“Sure. You know me. I never hesitate to speak my mind.”
Bob paused, John’s hand still firmly planted against his own. “It’s a good thing God was watching over you when Jenny decided to dump you.”
A frown crossed John’s face. “He may have been watching, but to my way of thinking, He almost missed catching me.”
“Those are strange words coming from you, Preacher.”
“No stranger than the circumstance that gave them thought,” John countered. “Tell J.D. I’m doing well and don’t forget to ask my mother if she has any messages for him.”
“I’ll do that, John.” Major Camstead released his hand, gave a brief salute, and left the room.
It was only moments before Joelle appeared. “You look tired, John. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”
John glanced up at her for a moment. Things had changed between them since he had made her cry. He was more careful how he responded now. “I am tired, but no more so than you, I imagine. You don’t look like you’re getting much sleep.”
Joelle defensively raised her hand to her face. “This is a harsh country, John. It isn’t at all what I’m used to. The heat is starting to build and the dryness is hard on my complexion.” Her words sounded formal and stiff.
“You’re still the best looking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” John replied, surprising them both. To cover up his embarrassment, he added, “Now get out of here and let me sleep.”
Tracie Peterson - [New Mexico Sunset 04] Page 5