His Convenient Wife

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Stan glanced at Harriett and knew he couldn’t do it, even if it was best for her. If she woke up while he was holding her, who knew what she’d think?

  “Another thing you can do,” Joel continued, this time looking at her mother, “is give her plenty of warm drinks to sip on when she wakes up. But don’t force it.”

  “There’s no medicine you can give her to help?” her ma asked.

  Joel shook his head. “No, there isn’t. She needs time. I don’t see any reason why she won’t get better.” He picked up his medical bag.

  Her mother followed him to the bedroom door. “Thank you for coming out here, Joel.”

  “It’s really not as bad as it looks,” Joel assured them. “If she’d spent another night outdoors, then it’d be a different matter. It’s a good thing you found her when you did.”

  After he left, her mother smiled in relief. “That’s good news. As long as we’re diligent, she should be fine. I’ll go downstairs and heat up some potatoes and water.” She paused for a moment then asked, “Would you like me to leave you alone with her for a half hour so you can get into bed with her and help her warm up?”

  He wasn’t sure what to say. Her mother’s goal, of course, was for her daughter to get better as fast as possible, but he couldn’t do it and—worse—he couldn’t explain why. Fortunately, Maggie came running into the room, followed by Rose.

  “Uncle Joel said Harriett will be alright?” Rose asked her mother.

  “Yes, he did,” her ma replied. “She lost body heat and needs to get it back.”

  “Mama,” Maggie called out as she ran over to the bed.

  Stan caught the girl before she jumped up on it. “We need to let your ma rest.”

  “She sick?” Maggie asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Yes, but hopefully not for long,” he whispered, patting her back. Glancing at Rose, he asked, “Would you like to have some time alone with her? I’m sure she’d like it if you talked to her.”

  Rose nodded. “If you don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t mind,” he said. “Harriett is closer to you than anyone else.”

  “She’s close to you, too, Stan,” her ma argued.

  No, no she wasn’t. Her ma meant well, but she was very wrong. There was no sense in going into it, though. What Harriett needed was Rose. Of all the people Harriett knew, Rose would be the one who could give her the strongest reason to fight. There was no denying the bond the two sisters shared. Maybe it was their bond that would get Harriett on the mend much sooner. Without replying, he settled for smiling at her mother before taking Maggie downstairs.

  ***

  Images came and went in Harriett’s mind. They were bits and pieces of her life, and they were all good times. Her first memory was the doll she’d gotten for Christmas. It was the first item she’d gotten that wasn’t a hand-me-down, and she spent a good six months doing nothing else but playing with it.

  Then there was the time she and Rose were six and their pa made them a swing that hung from a tree branch. They took turns on it, but even as fun as swinging was, Harriett’s favorite part was watching the autumn leaves circling around her as they fell from the branches.

  When they were eight, Rose had talked her into playing instead of helping their ma clean the house, and they snuck into the barn and played hide and seek in the loft. But then Adam caught them and told them to get back to work.

  There was also the time when she cried right after Rose got married because she missed her sister, and Adam spent the whole night trying to make her feel better. He even told jokes that were so dumb, she couldn’t help but laugh.

  More memories came to her, most of them having to do with Stan. She recalled the moment she looked at him in school and realized she was in love with him. There’d been nothing he said or did to evoke such a strong emotion, and though she initially assumed nothing would come from such a fondness at thirteen, she never could seem to deny any romantic attraction to him. All he had to do was say hello or smile at her, and she’d be in heaven for the rest of the day.

  Oddly, she didn’t think of the times he would bypass her to talk to Rose or even the time when she found out he’d proposed to Rose. In this whirl of memories, she could only remember the good things. Like the time he made a picnic for her and told her he wanted to make things right. Or the time he supported her and wouldn’t let Maggie have licorice.

  And he’d made attempts to touch her and had paid her compliments. Maybe he hadn’t done or said those things because he felt obligated to since they were married. And maybe all those times she thought he was comparing her to Rose, he hadn’t been. Perhaps she’d been the only one who was doing the comparisons. All this time, her assumption that he found her lacking because she wasn’t Rose was all in her mind.

  Funny how, in the midst of her dreams, she could see things clearly. And she knew he’d been thinking of her during their lovemaking because she suddenly remembered him whispering her name. Why couldn’t she remember that while she was awake? Maybe it was because things were easier to figure out when she didn’t let her insecurities get in the way.

  Voices started drifting into her dreams, and at first she pushed them away, immediately choosing the world of her good memories. But then she realized the voices were coming from Stan and Rose. It took some effort, but she was able to pick out what they were saying.

  “You need to get some sleep,” Rose told him. “I can watch her through the night. I’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

  “I don’t want to sleep,” he said. “I want to be here when she wakes up.”

  “I know you do, but what good will you be to her if you’re exhausted?”

  Harriett felt someone’s hand caressing hers and instinctively knew it was his by the subtle strength in his grasp. It was then that she realized she was no longer outside. She was in bed, and several blankets were tucked in around her, along with something warm resting on her chest and stomach. She was no longer in any danger. Now, she was safe and warm. For some reason, knowing she was so comfortable made her want to return to sleep.

  “Stan, Harriett will understand if you’re not here when she wakes up,” Rose softly said. “She wouldn’t want you to make yourself sick with worry.”

  “You don’t understand,” he replied. “I’ve failed her in so many ways. This is one thing I can do right.”

  Stan squeezed Harriett’s hand, and though she willed herself to squeeze his in return, she couldn’t make her fingers move. The world of dreams was pulling her back, and try as she might, she couldn’t fight it.

  “Alright,” Rose said. “But if you need any help, my ma and I are here.”

  “I know. Thank you.” The door softly closed, and she felt a light brush of his fingers as he stroked her cheek. “Come back to me, Harriett. Life won’t be worth living without you. You’ve become the most important person in my life.”

  She made another attempt to squeeze his hand, to let him know she heard him, but she drifted off to sleep and was fully immersed in her dreams once more.

  ***

  At dawn, Harriett’s mother entered the room, carrying a bowl filled with water. Rose came in with her, and in her hands were a bar of soap and washcloth.

  “Any change?” her mother asked.

  Stan reluctantly released Harriett’s hand. “She feels warmer than before,” he replied. That had to be good news. It meant she was doing better. He hoped.

  “Good.” Her mother set the bowl on the table and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Rose and I need to tend to Harriett.”

  “I can help,” he offered.

  “Not for this, Stan,” Rose told him. “It has to do with her more personal needs. I know Harriett, and she’d rather Ma and I take care of this.”

  “Oh.”

  Rose was right. Harriett was so shy when it came to him seeing her naked. Taking her clothes off to get her in dry ones was one thing. Making sure she used the chamber pot was different. He did
n’t have a problem with helping Harriett that way, but he could see that Rose was right. Harriett wouldn’t want that at all.

  He got up and headed for the door. Turning back to face them, he asked, “Can I return when you’re done?”

  “Of course, you can,” her mother assured him, an understanding smile on her face.

  With another look at Harriett, he thanked them and left the room. When he made it downstairs, he saw his mother holding a sleeping Maggie in the rocking chair on the porch. Next to her were his father, Kent, and Harriett’s father.

  He stepped onto the porch, and they looked over at him. Before they could ask, he said, “Harriett’s still asleep.”

  “She hasn’t woken up at all?” his father asked.

  “No, not yet,” he replied. “But her temperature is higher.”

  “That’s good news,” Harriett’s father said. “Joel said she should be alright. I think it’s just a matter of waiting until she wakes up.”

  Stan nodded. He’d feel better once she did. He hated this waiting, especially when he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to seeing him again. But even if she wasn’t happy to see him, he’d find a way of making things right.

  “Well, I think I’ll put Maggie down,” his mother said, rising to her feet. “I’ll make sandwiches so you all can get something to eat.”

  He opened the door for her, and she offered him a comforting smile as she passed him and went into the house. After he shut the door, he glanced around, unsure of what he should do. The horse neighed, and he glanced at the barn. Maybe he should feed the animals. It’d give him something useful to do while he was waiting for Harriett’s ma and Rose to be done.

  “Sit down,” Stan’s father called out.

  Looking at his pa, he shook his head. “I can’t. I need to do something. I think I’ll feed the animals.”

  “We already did that,” his pa said. “In the barn and in the fields.”

  Stan sighed. He had to do something. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to remember all the things he’d marked down on his list. There were usually some odd chores he did from time to time that he could do now.

  “Well, the wheel on my carriage is loose,” Kent spoke up. When Stan looked at him, he shrugged. “I can wait until Rose and I get back home, but-”

  “Sounds good,” Stan interrupted. “Where is it?”

  Kent gestured to the other side of the house. “I parked it over there.”

  “Stan,” his pa began, “you did catch the part where Joel said Harriett was going to be alright, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, I did,” Stan replied.

  “So all your worrying is pointless.”

  “I’ve never been one for sitting still. You know that.”

  “I know, but you won’t be any good if you wear yourself out.”

  “I’m not going to wear myself out. Besides, all I’m doing is sitting up there.” He motioned to Harriett’s bedroom.

  His pa sighed but leaned back in his chair. “Alright.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Harriett’s pa assured him. “He won’t be able to rest until she wakes up. Then he’ll calm down.” With a smile at Stan, he added, “It’s nice to see you love her.”

  Stan wanted to respond, but he didn’t know what to say. It made sense her father would worry he wouldn’t love Harriett. He was sure, he’d worry too, if Maggie married a man under conditions similar to the ones that brought him and Harriett together.

  Thankfully, Kent got out of his chair and walked over to him so Stan didn’t have to think of something to say. “You sure you want to work on the carriage?” Kent asked.

  Stan nodded.

  Kent led him down the porch and to the side of the house where he’d parked the carriage. “It’s not in bad shape, but I know it needs fixing.” He walked to the wheel and patted it. “This is it.”

  Stan inspected the wheel for a minute then faced him. “I’ll get the things I need from the barn, and the wheel will be like new in no time.”

  Stan headed for the barn, not sure if Kent would follow or not, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure what to think of Kent. Up to now, he really hadn’t had anything to do with him, especially since Kent hadn’t grown up in Omaha.

  But when he returned with some tools and worked on the wheel, Kent offered to help him. Stan hesitated to accept the help. Kent was rich. His world revolved around things wealthy people did, and while Stan didn’t know exactly what that entailed, he knew it had nothing to do with fixing wagons, rounding up cattle, or growing crops. He didn’t work with his hands. He probably never got dirty. But Kent pitched right in and did whatever Stan asked.

  When they were done, Stan put the tools back in his box and glanced at him. “You know, I didn’t expect you to stick around and help with the wheel.”

  “I don’t mind,” Kent told him. “Besides, you taught me something today. In the future, if I need to, I can fix my wheels.”

  “You have a lot of money. Why don’t you have one of those motor cars?”

  “I’m planning to get one in a couple years, but right now, there’s no need. I can’t visit Rose’s family in it. I figure as they get more popular, they’ll be easier to drive this far out west.”

  “Oh. I suppose people back East are ahead of us.”

  With a smile, Kent shrugged. “Not in the things that matter.”

  Stan studied Kent for a moment, detecting that there was more to Kent than met the eye. And then he realized what Rose had seen in him. Kent might be rich, but he was an honest and decent person. He was able to look beyond someone’s status and see who the person really was. Stan had no doubt Kent was the kind of man who made a good husband, and he probably made a good friend.

  Turning his attention back to his box, Stan closed the lid. “I better take this back.”

  “Your wife will be alright,” Kent told him.

  “I know. Doctor Joel’s good about knowing these things.”

  “Maybe, but there’s also Rose. She’s convinced Harriett will be back to normal in no time, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about her is that if she says something’s going to happen, it does.”

  “I heard she can be stubborn when it comes to getting her way.”

  “Stubborn?” Kent chuckled. “That’s a mild way of putting it. It’d take an act of God to stop her.”

  Stan laughed at his joke. “I heard she was relentless in her pursuit of you.”

  “I had a better chance of outrunning an angry bull.”

  “But the chase was worth it. I mean, she’s never been happier.”

  “I hope not. I’d like to think she made the right decision when she picked me.”

  “She did.”

  Kent paused for a moment then asked, “Does it bother you she chose me instead of you?”

  “You heard I proposed to her?”

  “I overheard it, actually.”

  “Oh.” Stan cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you two were serious about each other at the time. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s alright. I understand. But we’re part of the same family now, and when someone gets sick or there’s a special occasion, I hope there won’t be any bad feelings between us.”

  Understanding what Kent was getting at, Stan shook his head. “There won’t. I’m glad Rose said no. Harriett’s perfect for me.” He wasn’t sure she’d agree when she woke up, but he’d do whatever it took to win her back.

  Kent relaxed. “I’m glad to hear it. Things could get awkward otherwise.”

  “You’re right, especially since our wives like to see each other all the time.”

  Harriett’s mother called out to Stan, so he looked over at her. “You can go back up and see Harriett now,” she told him.

  “Is she awake?”

  “She woke up briefly, but she went back to sleep.”

  He hurried over to the porch and climbed the steps. “She woke up?”

  “For only a minute.” Lowering he
r voice, she added, “It was when Rose and I helped her with personal matters.”

  Since Harriett was able to use the chamber pot, then that meant she was definitely on the mend, and that was good news.

  “She needs a lot more fluids,” her mother continued. “I’ll bring up some more water and a glass of warm milk.”

  “Alright.” He stepped toward the door, and she stopped him. With an understanding smile, she took the toolbox from him. “I don’t think you’ll need that up there.”

  Thanking her, he hurried into the house. He hoped Harriett would be awake when he got to the room, but she wasn’t. She was in a deep sleep. He released his breath and sat next to the bed, taking her hand in his. He ran his thumb along back of her hand, praying she’d be happy the next time she woke up and saw him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Stan.” Someone nudged his shoulder. “Stan?”

  Stan opened his eyes and lifted his head from the edge of Harriett’s bed. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. He’d gone to sleep, holding Harriett’s hand. Blinking back the sleep from his eyes, he saw it was almost evening.

  He turned his gaze from the window and to his mother. “You’re still here?” he asked as he straightened in the chair, working out the kinks in his back.

  “I’m just about to leave.” She set a warm cup of milk on the table by the bed. “Maggie wants to come up, but I thought it best to wait until Harriett wakes up.”

  “It is. She needs to get better, and I don’t think that will happen with Maggie bouncing around the room. You know the girl can’t stay still for long.”

  “That’s normal for a child her age.” After a moment, his ma added, “I heard you refuse to leave Harriett’s bedside.”