John crawled out into the room. “They’re retreating. The army must have them on the run.”
Lillie moved quickly to the window. “I can’t tell what’s happening,” she moaned. “It’s still too dark to tell. The sun’s coming up, but I just can’t make it all out.”
“They’re leaving, I’m sure of it. Find Joelle, Mom. Find her and make sure she’s all right,” John said, pulling himself to the side of his bed.
Lillie nodded. “John, you should stay in the closet until we’re sure about what’s happening.”
“I’m all right,” he said and motioned to the closed bedroom door. “Just find Joelle.”
Lillie moved cautiously and turned the knob of the door as silently as she could. Peering out into the front room, Lillie could not make out a single thing except the faint glow of dawn against the front door opening.
“Joelle?” she whispered the name. A rush of mounted men raced past the front door, causing Lillie to momentarily pull back. Once they were gone, however, she pressed forward into the room.
Picking her way through the debris of overturned chairs and table, Lillie called again. “Joelle, are you here?”
Nothing. The silence was maddening, and Lillie knew she dared not light a lamp. Getting on her hands and knees, Lillie moved through the mess into the shadowy corners of the room. Her heart nearly stopped when her hand felt the warm touch of flesh.
“Joelle!” she exclaimed, but there was no reply.
Lillie ran her hand across the unmistakable feminine form. “Joelle, speak to me. Joelle,” Lillie reached down and pulled the unconscious form to her breast. She felt revulsion as Joelle’s nightgown fell away from her body in a tattered heap.
“Oh, God, no,” Lillie moaned, rocking Joelle back and forth. “Oh, please, God, help us.”
No longer caring whether anyone saw the light, Lillie raced to her untouched bedroom and got the lamp and one of her own nightgowns.
“Mother!” John yelled, sensing that all was not well. “What’s going on out there?”
“Hush, John. Please be still, Joelle’s hurt.” Lillie knew that with her son’s determination she might very well see him crawling through the doorway at any moment. Lighting the lamp and putting it to one side, Lillie dressed Joelle’s battered body in the nightdress and eased her back to the floor.
Lillie assessed the situation gravely. Joelle had been hit repeatedly across the face. There were multiple bruises already forming, and her lips were bloody. She was mercifully unconscious, and Lillie could only pray that she had been that way throughout her attack.
“John, I have to find your father,” Lillie said, coming to her son. “I’m going to get you into bed and go after him.”
“Don’t bother with me,” John said sternly. “What about Joelle?”
“She’s hurt.”
“Is it bad?”
“Yes,” Lillie replied gravely. “I’m afraid it’s very bad, John.”
“This is all my fault!” he yelled and pounded the bedframe with his fist. “All my fault!”
“John, it doesn’t matter who you blame. It certainly won’t change matters now. Joelle needs help, and I have to find your father. This isn’t any more your fault than it is mine. The madmen who shot up the town are the ones we can blame for this fiasco. Now, stay here,” Lillie instructed.
His mother’s words rang over and over in his head. John was spent from crawling to the bed from the closet, but now he prayed for the strength to go to Joelle.
“I have to be there for her, Lord,” he whispered. Making a slow, but steady progress to the door, John was consumed with guilt. He had brought her here. His accident had caused her to rush to his side.
“I told her to go home,” he muttered, moving inch by painful inch. “I begged her to leave this place.”
John concentrated on each movement. Pull with the right arm. Pull with the left. His legs, still weak and mostly useless to his efforts, dragged behind him like a seal crossing a beach.
He was through the bedroom door when he saw her. Even from several feet away, he knew she was badly hurt. John doubled his efforts, pulling himself alongside Joelle and nearly knocking over the lamp. Reaching down, he turned her face toward the light and cried out in anguish at the sight.
“Oh, Joelle! Why? Why did this happen to you?” His cries were like that of a wounded beast.
Gently, he lifted her against himself and cradled her in his arms. “Joelle, wake up, my beloved,” he whispered against her ear. “Please, wake up. I love you, Joelle. Oh, how I love you.”
He traced the swollen jaw and wiped at the dried blood around her lips. “God, please help her,” John begged. “Please, God. Please!”
Lillie and Daniel returned to the house to find John, holding Joelle against himself.
“John, you should be in bed,” Dan stated firmly. He took hold of Joelle and eased her back onto the floor. “Lillie, clear the way.”
“I want to stay with her,” John told his father.
Dan hoisted John to his feet and half carried, half dragged his son to the bedroom. “You can help her most by letting me work on her without interference. You aren’t helping yourself or her by endangering the progress you’ve made. Now, do I have to sedate you to keep you here?” Daniel questioned, placing John in his bed.
“No,” John answered. “I’ll wait here. But, please, promise me you’ll come back and tell me everything as soon as you can.”
“I will,” Dan promised.
By the time Dan had returned to the front room, Lillie had cleared away most of the clutter. Together they worked to treat Joelle’s injured body and, much to Lillie’s heartfelt sorrow, Dan confirmed her suspicions that Joelle had been raped.
The anger in Dan’s voice was barely controlled. “What kind of animal does such a hideous and degrading thing?”
“Poor baby,” Lillie said, brushing back dark brown ringlets from Joelle’s face. “She’s just a little girl, Dan.”
“I know, Lillie. I know.” He reached out and touched his wife’s cheek. “We’re going to see her through this,” he told her.
“She saved John’s life and mine,” Lillie stated with a wavering voice. “Oh, Dan, we all might be dead but for Joelle’s sacrifice.”
“Let’s put her to bed,” Dan said softly. “You too,” he added, pulling Lillie to her feet. “You’ve been through too much as it is.”
“I couldn’t possibly rest. You’ll need me to help you now. No doubt they’ll be coming for you to help at the hospital and I’ll have to care for John and Joelle without you. So you must tell me what to do and how to care for them properly,” Lillie said, and Dan knew that she was right.
“First, we put Joelle to bed. Then we’ll wash her up and better treat the lacerations.” Dan reached down and picked up Joelle as though she weighed no more than a sack of flour.
“You lead the way,” he told Lillie, and she quickly complied.
Lillie smoothed out the covers as Dan placed Joelle’s still body onto the bed. “Bring the lamp, Lillie, and a basin of water.”
Lillie left her husband and hurried to do as he asked. John called out to her, begging to know about Joelle, but Lillie could tell him nothing for fear of breaking into tears.
“I’ll send your father as soon as I can,” she told her son and hurried to bring Dan the water. “John’s asking about her,” Lillie said as though Dan could have missed the exchange of conversation just outside the door.
“I know. I’ll go talk to him.”
“What will you tell him?” Lillie asked, meeting her husband’s eyes.
“I don’t know.” Dan’s voice was uncharacteristically hollow. “I suppose the truth is the best.”
“It’ll tear him apart,” Lillie murmured.
“But he�
��ll have to be told sooner or later,” Dan reasoned. “Better now, while he’s expecting to hear the worst.”
Dan walked from the room leaving Lillie to care for Joelle and went to his son’s bed. Sunlight was now beaming through the open window and John could tell by the gravity of his father’s expression the news was not good.
“How bad is she hurt?” he questioned.
“I’m not sure,” Dan replied. “She’s still unconscious, but that’s from a blow to the head. I don’t know how bad a hit she sustained, but there doesn’t seem to be a great deal of swelling. Her heart rate is strong and even, so I think she’ll pull through.”
John looked at his father suspiciously. “You aren’t telling me everything.”
“No,” Dan said, bringing a chair beside the bed. Wearily, he sat down. “John, there’s no easy way to tell you this and I desperately wish it weren’t so.”
“What is it?” John nearly yelled. “You said she was strong. Are you going to tell me now that she’s not going to make it?”
“No, it’s not that.” Dan struggled for the right words. “Joelle wasn’t just beaten.”
John stared at his father for a moment. “What are you saying?” The truth of what he feared his father would reveal was starting to dawn on him. “Please, tell me you aren’t saying. . .”
“John, these men were obviously animals. Joelle fought for all she was worth—”
“No!” he cried. “No! It isn’t fair! She was saving my worthless life!” John pounded the mattress, while tears streamed down his face.
Dan reached out to still his son’s fist. “Fair or not, what’s happened has happened. Joelle is going to need you now more than ever. She’s going to feel bad enough from the physical injuries she’s sustained, but the emotional scars are going to run even deeper. She’s not going to need someone who’s going to spend his time pouting about its being his fault. She’s going to need someone who can show her it doesn’t matter. That she had no choice in the matter, and that she’s still the beautiful and loving woman that you fell in love with.”
John swallowed hard and nodded. “I can do that for her. God knows what she’s done for me. I love her so much, Dad. Just make her well, and I’ll do the rest.”
“No, Son,” Dan said, with a shake of his head. “You and I can’t do it alone. God will heal Joelle just as He’s worked to heal you.”
Chapter 8
Joelle became conscious in waves of sensation. First she smelled smoke and feared that the house was on fire. Then she struggled to move but found her body racked with pain. Her lips refused to move as she tried to speak, and she tasted blood when she tried to wet them with her tongue.
What’s wrong with me? Joelle’s mind wandered through a shadowy maze. Why can’t I open my eyes? She tried to force her eyelids to part, but they refused to do as she willed them. A deep moaning came from somewhere inside her, but even then Joelle could not rationalize the reaction.
“Don’t try to move, Joelle,” the soft voice of Lillie came from somewhere overhead. “You’ve been hurt. Just lie still.”
“John,” she moaned the name. “Where is John?”
“John is all right, Joelle. You saved his life. You saved me too.”
Saved his life? What is Lillie talking about? Joelle’s eyes opened a fraction and through the tiny slits she could barely make out Lillie’s tear-streaked face.
“I hurt,” Joelle murmured.
“I know. Dan left some medicine for you, and I’ll see to it that the pain eases. Can you swallow some liquid?”
“I think so.” The words barely croaked out from her raw throat. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Lillie questioned in surprise. She stared down at the battered face and ached to make the swelling go away.
“No,” Joelle whispered and seemed to fall back to sleep.
“It’s just as well,” Lillie said softly. She retrieved the medication and poured out a measure for Joelle. Lifting the young woman’s head just a bit caused Joelle to awaken again.
“Lillie?”
“Here, just drink this. It will make you feel better.”
Joelle did as she was told and fell back to sleep. Somewhere in her mind she thought she heard gunfire and the raucous laughter of foul-smelling men, but then it faded and Joelle heard nothing.
It was not until the next day that Joelle truly became conscious. She opened her eyes, again finding it a pain-filled effort, but this time a tiny seed of memory came to her. She remembered a gloved hand, slamming hard against her face.
“How do you feel?” Dan’s voice was soft and full of concern.
Joelle turned her head and felt the dull ache inside grow to a throb. “I hurt.”
“You will for a time. We can control it, though. I have medication for you. Are you hungry?”
“No.” Joelle struggled to remember something, but she could not begin to think of what it was. “I’m thirsty.”
Dan nodded and poured a glass of water from a pitcher at her bedside. “Here,” he said and eased his arm behind her.
Joelle drank slowly, still trying to figure out exactly what had happened. She remembered there had been something wrong. The smell of smoke came back to her. “Was there a fire?” she whispered to Dan.
“Yes, there was,” he said and laid her back against the pillow. “The Commercial Hotel was burned to the ground by the Villistas.”
“Were we there?” Joelle questioned. Her mind struggled to clear the haze.
“No,” Dan replied. “Good thing too. The Villistas killed several people there before setting it on fire. It’s still smoldering.”
“I smell it,” Joelle replied.
Dan pulled out a stethoscope and leaned over Joelle. “I’m going to listen to your heart,” he said softly. “Don’t be afraid.”
Joelle thought it strange that he would say such a thing, but when he reached for the front of her nightgown her hands instinctively shot out. “No!”
It was the one thing to trigger her memory. Someone else had reached out to her like that. Only that man had not been a doctor; his actions had been violent and ugly.
“It’s all right, Joelle. It’s me, Dr. Dan. I’m going to help you get better. I won’t hurt you.”
Joelle shook her head from side to side. The ugliness was coming back to her. She remembered the foul odor of whiskey on the breath of the men who had grabbed her. She tried to block the image of a leering grin and dark fiery eyes.
“No! No! No!” she screamed and threw herself to the far side of the bed. Crawling back away from Dan, Joelle began to cry. She was unable to stop the assault that relived itself in her mind, and all she could do was cower like a frightened child.
Lillie came running at the sound of Joelle’s cries. She jumped up on the bed and pulled Joelle into her arms, cradling her as a mother would a small child.
“It’s all right, Joelle. Don’t cry. No one will hurt you anymore.” Lillie’s voice soothed Joelle’s anguish.
“Make them go away,” Joelle moaned, with her hands to her head. “Make them go away.”
“They’re gone, Joelle. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Lillie’s calm insistence caused Joelle to still.
“Are you sure they’re gone?”
“Yes,” Lillie whispered, “I’m sure. Dan and John and I are the only ones here, and we won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“I’m afraid,” Joelle croaked in a barely audible voice. “I’m so afraid.”
“God is your strength and salvation,” Lillie whispered. “You need not fear anyone. He is with you, and He will keep you from harm.”
Joelle rejected the words. “No, He doesn’t care. He left me alone. He doesn’t care.”
Lillie loo
ked at Daniel with deep sorrow in her eyes. “He cares, Joelle. He never stopped. Please don’t harden your heart. God cares.”
Dan reached out to hand Lillie a glass of medicine. “Drink this, Joelle,” he said, being careful not to touch her.
Joelle opened her eyes and accepted the medication gratefully. She prayed it might cause her to sleep. She prayed it would take away the horrible images in her mind.
John heard the anguished cries and felt the helplessness of his situation. He could not go to her. He could not comfort her. What use was he to anyone?
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, John Monroe.” He could hear Joelle’s words as if she were standing beside him. He had given much time over to self-pity.
“I have to stop this,” he said aloud. “I won’t be any good to anyone if I wallow here forever.”
“Did you say something, Son?” Dan came into the room with a tired look.
“I heard Joelle. How is she?”
“She’s starting to remember.”
John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. If only he could help her forget her pain and sorrow. “I want to see her,” John said, opening his eyes to meet his father’s.
“You can’t, John. She’s terrified. I think it would only make matters worse.”
“But she loves me and I love her. I want her to know that none of this matters. It won’t change my love for her.”
“Now is not the time, John. She didn’t want me there. She’ll only allow Lillie to touch her. You have to understand, John. Every man, even you and me. . .” He hesitated. “She can’t separate us from her attackers. She can’t find comfort in you right now. Give her time. You must give her time.”
John rubbed his legs and thought on his father’s words. “All right. . .I’ll wait.”
Dan found himself on a constant run between the hospital and his house. When he was not trying to help with the severely wounded, it seemed there were other less serious doctoring skills needed. Always someone occupied his time, until in frustration and exhaustion, he slipped away and tended to the needs of his family.
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