by Debra Cowan
“There’s no guarantee.”
The chances were as good that his pa might die as they were he wouldn’t and if he did survive, he still might not be able to walk.
A buzz started in Matt’s ears. Annalise continued to answer questions from the two older people, but all he could hear was that the surgery might kill his father. Matt felt as though he was being slowly suffocated.
“There are other options, right?” he interrupted.
“Yes. We can manage the pain with morphine or laudanum, but that’s a short-term solution.”
“No surgery,” Matt said quickly.
When she frowned at him, he glanced at J.T. “Right, Pa?”
“You think I really need the surgery, Annalise?” The man’s voice was thready with pain.
“Yes.”
“But that could kill him!” Matt burst out.
Cora looked away, but he saw a tear roll down her cheek. Her first husband had been murdered three years ago by an outlaw gang and now she could lose J.T., too. He and Russ could lose J.T.
A knife-edged dread stabbed at him. They had lost their mother to a tumor. They couldn’t lose their father, too. “Pa, you can’t have surgery without talking to Russ.”
J.T., his strong features drawn and pinched, looked from his son to his new wife.
When his gaze moved to Annalise, she said quietly, “You shouldn’t wait much longer. The tumor will probably continue to grow.”
Giving her a sharp look, Matt clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. “The chances aren’t good enough, Pa.”
His father’s blue eyes were bleak as he looked at Cora. “What do you think, honey?”
“I want whatever you want, but—” She broke off, biting her lip.
The strongest woman he knew was afraid and that hit Matt like a kick to the gut. “Pa.”
After another long look at Matt and Cora, J.T. nodded, saying to Annalise, “Do you have more of that medicine?”
“Yes. I’ll leave some and I’ll also give you a little more before I go. It will help you rest.”
“I guess I’ll try the medicine option for now.”
“All right.” She patted his hand.
The crushing band around Matt’s chest eased, but a feeling of heaviness still hung over him.
She took the small bottle from the bureau at the foot of the bed and showed Cora the amount to administer. Matt tried to rein in the frustration churning inside him.
Annalise picked up her satchel and squeezed her patient’s shoulder. “Send for me whenever you need more medicine or if something changes. If anything changes. I’ve left enough morphine with Cora for a week. That should give you time to talk to your family and decide what you want to do.”
“Thanks, girl,” he said in a raspy voice.
Cora echoed her thanks as Annalise followed Matt outside. He helped her into the buggy, taking his seat beside her. Urging the horse into motion, he clenched his jaw, struggling to get past the anger chewing on him.
He could feel Annalise looking at him, but he couldn’t talk yet.
After a long moment of silence broken only by the occasional creak of buggy wheels and the swish of prairie grass, she reached over and curled a hand over his knee. “Are you all right? I imagine it was hard to see him like that.”
He grunted, telling himself not to say anything, but he burst out, “I can’t believe you told him to have the surgery!”
“Why not? He asked me what I thought.”
“You said you were going to tell him the options and the risks. All I heard in there was you telling him what to do.”
“He asked my opinion and I gave it to him.” She frowned, slowly removing her hand from his leg. “You’re mad because I did that?”
“He could die,” Matt bit out.
“Do you want him to live in pain the rest of his life?”
“I want him to have a life,” he said hotly. “If it was your father, would you be so quick to let somebody butcher him up?”
She winced. “It’s not butchering, Matt. I’m not a butcher.”
He knew that. He heard the hurt in her voice, but fear rode him hard. “Would you recommend it for your father?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Well, I don’t think you would. And I don’t want you taking any chances with my father.”
“It isn’t your decision, Matt.”
That had him seeing red, but before he could speak, she continued, “And it isn’t mine. It’s his.”
“He wasn’t in his right mind. He was out of his head with pain until you gave him the medicine and that helped him. He was restin’ easy when we left.”
“That’s only a short-term solution.”
“What if he has the surgery and doesn’t survive? What about Cora? What about me and Russ? Can you guarantee Pa won’t die?”
“No,” she said quietly.
“Then you can’t do it. You can lessen his pain with the morphine. That’s what he wants.”
She appeared to struggle with something for a long moment before looking at him, understanding in her green eyes. “I think he only said that for your benefit. He saw how upset you and Cora were.”
“He’s going to give a lot of weight to your words.”
“I never promised I wouldn’t give my opinion.”
“You sure as hell did. During our picnic at the Founder’s Day celebration. I don’t want you to tell him that again.”
“Matt.” She tried to take his hand, but he gripped the reins even tighter.
She pulled back, edging away from him. “I know this is frightening. It is for him, too. He needs your support.”
Afraid of what he might say, he clamped his mouth shut and reined up in front of the livery. “Well, here we are.”
In short order he had her horse unharnessed and rubbed down, the buggy stored.
Annalise’s gaze followed him the whole time.
He couldn’t look at her or he would get mad all over again. He led Dove out of the livery and tied her to the hitching post.
“Matt?” The hurt in her voice grabbed at his chest.
“I gotta find Russ.”
“When will you finish with the cattle?”
“Probably tomorrow.”
“Will I see you then?”
“I don’t know.”
She angled her chin at him. “I can’t believe you’re mad at me about this.”
He didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t seem to get shed of it.
“If your father needs more morphine or decides he wants me to operate, you know where I am.”
“Yeah,” he growled. “I do.”
Her eyes narrowed and she studied him for a moment. Then she went up on her tiptoes and took his face between her hands, kissing him hard. Surprised, he stiffened, but then her mouth softened, invited.
Before he could push her off or kiss her back, she pulled away, her green eyes sparking with challenge. “You think about that, Matt Baldwin, and you remember who we are to each other.”
Picking up her satchel, she stepped around him and started across the street for her clinic.
He watched her go, feeling as if his chest was being crushed.
Maybe the surgery was the best option, but Matt didn’t see any point in cutting his father open when there was another way to help him. Pa obviously agreed because he’d told Annalise he wanted the morphine.
Matt wasn’t crazy about his father taking the drug either. He knew the risks, had heard of men and women who had become addicted to it, but in this situation, the medicine was the best thing.
Wasn’t it? He thought so, but he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that Annalise had done something she had told him she wouldn’t.
Their reconciliation had already hit a bump and so had his earlier plans to propose. Right now, that was just fine with him.
Chapter Thirteen
Annalise didn’t like how she and Matt had left things. She didn’t like how he had accused her of bre
aking her word either. It had been two days and she hadn’t seen hide nor stubborn hair of him. She’d had about all of his silence she wanted.
She had racked her brain, thinking back over the conversations they’d had during the time they spent together at the Founder’s Day celebration, particularly over lunch. He believed she had told him she wouldn’t give her opinion about the surgery to J.T., but she hadn’t said anything of the kind.
I want you to convince him not to do it.
I can’t do that. I can only tell him the options and risks…
If you tell him it’s too dangerous, he won’t do it.
Not once had she said she wouldn’t give her opinion if asked.
She knew he had spoken to his brother about the disagreement they’d had over J.T.’s surgery because Russ and Lydia had come over that same night asking questions. Annalise answered all of them, had even gotten out her Ashhurst’s International Encyclopedia of Surgery and Leidy’s Anatomy to show them what the operation would be like if she did it. Russ had been as opposed to the surgery as his brother and, even after quizzing Annalise, he hadn’t come around.
Still, she would offer the same to Matt. If she ever saw him again, she thought in exasperation staring out the clinic window as dusky light settled over Whirlwind.
Tucking in the bottom of the sheet she had just put on one of the cots in the examination room, she heard a knock on the door.
She turned at the same time it opened.
“Hi, Annalise.” Lydia Baldwin stepped inside and closed the door, carefully handling a stiff-looking piece of cloth.
Was that what Annalise thought it was? She hurried toward the tall raven-haired woman who carefully laid the piece on the table in front of the window. Smoothing her pale-blue skirts, she turned to Annalise.
“Is that the impression Matt and I made of those hoofprints?”
“Yes.” The other woman fanned her face, color flushing her pearly skin. Her black eyes flashed with humor. “I was threatened to within an inch of my life if I let something happen to that.”
“What are you doing with it?”
“Matt wanted J.T. and Russ to look at it and see if they had any ideas as to why the prints are so uniform, but neither of them did. Matt wondered if you would show it to Ef and Davis Lee. Maybe one of them will come up with something.”
Annalise’s heart sank. Was that Matt’s only message? Show the impression around? Why couldn’t he have brought it himself? “I’ll do that tomorrow.”
“Thank you again for taking the time to answer all of Russ’s and my questions last night.”
“Of course. It didn’t seem to settle your husband’s mind. Matt’s certainly isn’t settled either.”
“They are two stubborn men, but I’ve found them to be reasonable.” A mischievous light flared in her dark eyes. “Most of the time.”
“Russ seemed as opposed to the surgery as Matt.”
“Russ doesn’t want to take the chance because he feels it’s his fault J.T. is in the wheelchair to start with.”
Annalise nodded. Matt had told her the same thing.
“If he had this surgery and died, Russ would feel responsible for that, too.”
Annalise didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t promise the man wouldn’t die or be paralyzed.
“We went out yesterday evening and spoke to J.T. about it. Russ hasn’t changed his mind completely, but because of what you told us, he was able to give some good information to J.T. and Matt.”
“I’m glad.” What bothered Annalise wasn’t that Matt didn’t agree with her, it was that he thought she had broken her word.
“You might want to send the impression out to the ranch with Miguel or someone. I don’t know when Matt will be back here, if ever.”
Lydia tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear, smiling. “He’ll be back. In fact, he started into town yesterday with us to see you, but then he came upon a long section of downed fence in the pasture where the cattle were just moved to. That’s like giving the rustlers an invitation. Russ stayed to help him and the other hands fix it.”
Annalise was encouraged that Matt had started into town to see her yesterday. Maybe he didn’t like this silence any better than she did.
Lydia reached into her reticule and pulled out a piece of paper. “J.T. also wanted me to give you this note.”
“What does it say?”
“I don’t know. He folded it in half twice so I don’t think he meant for me to read it.”
Annalise nodded as she took the paper and slipped it into her skirt pocket.
“I’d better get over to the hotel now.”
Annalise smiled and walked the woman out. “Thanks, Lydia.”
“You’re welcome.” She stepped into the street and angled the short distance to the Fontaine.
Once back inside, Annalise locked the door and finished putting clean sheets on the other cot in her examination room. Then she took the lamp and went upstairs, waiting until she reached her bedroom before reading J.T.’s note.
She frowned down at the masculine scrawl and eased onto the mattress. He wanted to do the surgery. He wanted her to do it at the ranch in two days when Matt and Russ would be finished repairing fence, and could be there with him.
It sounded as though J.T. had discussed it with the boys. Did that mean they had come to agree with his decision? Part of Annalise was relieved; she really did believe this was best. She hoped Matt would feel that way when all was said and done.
The next morning when she woke, she was still thinking about him. She moved the impression out of the sun, placing it on the kitchen table that sat away from the window and out of the light. She would take it to the sheriff and blacksmith this morning and get their thoughts.
After fastening her cotton wrapper, she set about making coffee and eggs, then sat down to eat. She wondered if Matt would make it to town today. It was past time to discuss the fact that he believed she had broken her word.
Her gaze landed on the cheesecloth and she rose to go look at it. Why couldn’t anyone figure out what was so strange about it? Sipping her coffee, she stared absently at the pattern imprinted on the cornstarch-stiffened cloth.
She had looked at this thing a dozen times and she still hadn’t found any new answers. Noticing what she thought was a mark, she leaned closer. Had Matt or someone gotten something on it? Was that dirt?
It took a moment for her brain to register what she saw on the fabric. It looked like the impression of…a nailhead.
Placing her coffee on the opposite end of the table, Annalise sat down and pulled the cloth toward her. It was a nailhead! She hadn’t noticed it before and she knew Matt hadn’t either or he would’ve said something.
Why would a cow have a nail in its hoof? And if a cow did have a nail there, wouldn’t the animal be limping? That would make the pattern irregular, not uniform.
Did it mean anything? She couldn’t quite put together exactly what, but she was sure it was important. She had to tell Matt, whether he wanted to see her yet or not.
Even if he wasn’t willing to discuss his father’s surgery, he would discuss this.
She opened the window and poured out the remainder of her coffee, then hurried upstairs to dress. After stepping into a lilac-and-white-checked daydress, she pulled her hair back and twisted it into a low chignon. A heavy knock rattled the front door. “Coming!”
As she rushed downstairs, she hoped whoever was here wasn’t anyone who had a serious problem. She was anxious to get out to the ranch. Before she could do that, she would have to find someone to drive out with her. Going by herself wouldn’t be prudent, what with the rustlers still on the loose. And Matt would be even madder at her if she traveled alone.
Sunlight glittered through the front window and when the visitor peered inside, she saw it was Matt.
She hurried to the door and unlocked it. “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I was planning to come find you.”
“You
were? So you’re still talking to me?”
“Yes.”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
He stepped inside, hanging his hat beside the door and adjusting the Peacemaker he carried on the gunbelt slung low on his hips. He had never been one to go unarmed and since all the trouble had started with the rustlers, a lot of other men in town followed his example.
She relocked the door. “Is your father all right?”
“Yes. The medicine gives him relief.” A muscle in his jaw flexed as he met her gaze. “I didn’t like how we— I—left things the other evening. I want to apologize.”
The words were so unexpected she blinked.
“For accusing you of saying something you didn’t say. I’ve been trying to come to terms with the surgery.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something, too.”
“I know I should let you go first, but I need to say this. I need you to hear it.”
She nodded, encouraged when he took her hand. “I thought back over our conversation at the picnic.”
“So did I.”
“I know now you didn’t tell me you wouldn’t give your opinion. I guess that’s just what I wanted to hear.”
The relief was so great her stomach dipped. “Thank goodness.”
“You been worried about this?”
She smacked his arm. “Of course I have. I don’t want anything to come between us again. It hurt that you believed I broke my word to you.”
“I don’t think that. I knew it yesterday, but I couldn’t get to town to tell you.”
“Yes, Lydia told me about the fence that needed repairing.”
“The idea of that surgery lathered me up good. And I’m still not sure about it, Angel.”
“I understand, but I’m so relieved to hear you say you know I didn’t break my word.”
“I knew better,” he admitted, caressing the line of her jaw with his thumb. “The whole thing had me out of sorts.”
“It’s a very serious situation. Some things are hard to hear.”
“Why won’t Pa heal up the way Edward has?”
“It’s not the same type of injury. The boy cracked a vertebra. Your father has a tumor that’s pressing on his spine.”