“Does right now count?” Nicholas asked with a chuckle.
“You’re dizzy and nauseated right now? When did that start?”
“Just when you touched the bump.”
“Hmmm.” Dr. Wayment pressed the moistened gauze to Nicholas’s head. “Young lady—Giselle, was it? You plan to take care of your brother, yes?”
“Absolutely.” She spoke for the first time in several minutes. “I’ll be helping him with whatever he needs, and the other girls have volunteered as well.”
“That’s good. I’d like you to speak with all of them and put them on the alert. If Nicholas should develop severe headaches, if his speech starts to slur, or if his arms or legs become numb, send for me immediately. There are certain precautions we need to take with head injuries.”
“I understand.”
“Good. I appreciate your help.” The doctor finished winding up the bandages, then unrolled them again as he brought them around Nicholas’s torso. Nicholas winced at the tightness of the cloth, but recognized that it had a purpose. Without it, the ribs might not heal properly.
“Done.” Dr. Wayment stepped back, and Nicholas lowered his shirt.
The doctor took a seat in the chair next to the bed and studied Nicholas carefully. “You are a very lucky young man,” he said after a moment. “If your leg had broken, we could be discussing amputation right now. If that mule had stepped on you any differently, your ribcage could have been crushed. And that head injury—you could have lost your memory or any of the basic functions. I hope you realize how very lucky you are, and that you never take another moment of your life for granted.”
Nicholas blinked, taken aback at the intensity of the doctor’s words. “You’re right. I didn’t realize. Thank you for telling me.”
“Thank you for surviving so I could make these marvelous discoveries. Every so often, I need the reminder that there’s a greater force at work here.” The doctor nodded once and then stood. “I’ll be by tomorrow around this same time, and don’t forget to send for me if you develop any of those symptoms I listed.” He turned to Giselle. “Is there any pie left downstairs?”
“Of course. I believe there’s always pie. I’ll go down and cut you a slice.”
“Thank you.” He waited until Giselle had left the room, then turned back to Nicholas. “Now, are there any other injuries, anything you didn’t want to discuss in front of your sister?”
Nicholas smiled. Thank goodness, no. “Nothing, Doctor. I’m fine otherwise.”
“All right. I just wanted to check. Now, would you like some pain relief?”
Nicholas nodded. “I think it would help.”
Dr. Wayment took a small bottle from his bag. “This is called laudanum. It’s very strong, so you must take it carefully. I’ll give you the first dose, and I’ll give your sister instructions for how to administer it from then on. She’s the only one who can give it to you. That will help us track how much you’ve taken.”
Once he was alone, Nicholas lowered himself back against the pillows that had been piled up against the headboard. That position was only somewhat more comfortable than sitting straight up had been. It seemed that no matter what he did, pain was to be his constant companion. He hoped laudanum worked fast.
Chapter Thirteen
Rachel paced the hallway outside room two, trying to talk herself into rapping on the door. Or perhaps she was trying to talk herself out of it—she hardly knew anymore. She stepped to the side as two guests of the hotel, a man and his wife, came out of room three and headed for the stairs, and then she resumed her pacing. She didn’t know what she expected it to resolve, but at least it gave her something to do.
Finally, she forced herself to raise her hand and knock.
“Come in,” came Giselle’s soft voice.
Rachel turned the knob and went inside, peering around the door to make sure it really was all right to enter. The curious little Chinaman was nowhere in sight, but Giselle was seated next to the bed, holding a book, and Nicholas was propped up on pillows on the bed. His face looked a little gray, and her heart immediately went out to him, even though it had no right to do that.
“Hello,” she said. “Is this a bad time for a visit?”
“No, it’s perfect.” Giselle stood up and laid the book on the bed. “Could you sit with Nicholas for a moment? I need to stretch my legs.”
“Of course.” Rachel took the chair Giselle had just vacated. “So, what are the two of you reading?”
“Paradise Lost,” Nicholas replied. “Most parts of it are completely incomprehensible.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ve never tried it myself.” She picked up the book and thumbed through it, not really seeing anything. Her mind was in too much of a jumble. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, I suppose I’m all right for someone who got stepped on by a mule.” Nicholas attempted a chuckle, but it came out as more of a cough. He grimaced. “Dr. Wayment says I’m very lucky—these injuries could have killed me.”
“That’s a blessing to be sure.” Rachel set the book back down and finally brought her gaze to Nicholas’s face. “I can’t stay long—I need to finish getting the dining room ready for the second train—but I did want to see how you are.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Nicholas moved to adjust his position, clenching his teeth as he slid more upright. “I’ll try not to keep Giselle too busy. I know she has work to do.”
“We always manage when one of our waitresses has something else come up.” Rachel laced her fingers together, then unlaced them. What was she supposed to say? This was the most uncomfortable sickbed visit she’d ever paid. “Tell me about the railroad. What kind of work did you do?”
“Clearing the ground. We chop down trees and dig out stumps or get the bushes out of the way.”
“Like Daniel,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Yes, like Daniel. Clearing the ground is a large part of the whole process—nothing else can happen until it’s finished.”
“I imagine so. What happens after the ground is prepared?”
“Then they can start laying the ties and the track. We hadn’t gotten to that part yet before I was hurt—we were still working up to it. I’m looking forward to seeing how it’s done.”
Rachel felt a little piece of her heart twang when he said that. “You’re going back?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, of course I am. It’s my job.”
“I just thought . . . after your injury . . . that you’d find something else to do. Something less dangerous.”
He chuckled, but then winced again. “I’m not going to quit just because things went wrong. Things go wrong on every job—that’s just the way of it. My foreman is holding my spot for me, and the only thing that would keep me from going back would be my injuries. Dr. Wayment didn’t say anything, but I have a slight worry that my leg won’t heal properly or maybe one of my ribs will keep giving me trouble, and I won’t be able to do railroad work anymore.”
Rachel wanted him to heal completely, but she also wanted him to stay safe, and it didn’t sound like both of those things could happen at the same time. Most of all, she wanted him to be happy, and she supposed that if the railroad made him happy, she should wish him the best of luck with it.
“Where’s your friend?” she asked, nodding toward Ho’s neatly made pallet.
“He went to pay a visit to one of your town’s celebrities—a Miss Orinda Lou Britt, opera singer or something along those lines. Mrs. Brody came in to see me a little while ago and we got to talking about China, and it turns out that Miss Britt has been there. Mrs. Brody said she thought Miss Britt had brought back some souvenirs and books, and she thought I might be able to take a peek at them.”
“It’s very kind of Ho to do that for you.”
“He’s a good fellow. For whatever reason, he’s attached himself to me, and I’m rather grateful for it. A man can use that kind of loyalty from his friends.” Ni
cholas tried to shift again, but this time, he collapsed against his pillows, a low moan escaping his lips.
“Has Dr. Wayment given you any laudanum?” Rachel asked.
“He does, but Giselle is in charge of that. When she gets back, she’ll tell us if it’s time for another dose.”
“That’s good.” Rachel stood up. “It’s a little close in here. Do you mind if I open the window?”
“No, that would be nice.”
She moved across the floor and fastened the curtains back, then opened the window a few inches. She didn’t want to let in the dust that constantly choked the air in Kansas, but the small breeze that came in was certainly nice.
“Thank you, Rachel,” Giselle said, entering the room with a tray. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but Sarah had just finished making the meal, and I thought I should bring up Nicholas’s plate before the train got here.”
“It was my pleasure,” Rachel said, saying the polite words without really meaning them. She was eager to leave. “I need to go now, but I’ll stop back in, all right?”
“Thank you for the visit, Rachel.” He held her gaze a moment longer than was comfortable, and she left the room quickly. She couldn’t afford to let her heart get tangled up with his again.
***
Nicholas ate his food, barely tasting it even though some part of his brain registered that it was delicious. The bandages around his torso had him so distracted, it was difficult to think about anything else. Rachel’s visit had been unexpected and very welcome, but even she hadn’t been able to take his mind off the pain. Many times, he’d wanted to rip off every piece of fabric holding him bound, but the thought of his ribs being unsupported was also unacceptable.
And now the bump on his head was starting to bother him too. Funny how he hadn’t even noticed it before. He gave a dry laugh, wishing there was any genuine humor to be found in the situation.
Giselle poked her head in his room. She’d put on a fresh apron and looked bright and cheerful. “Are you ready for me to take your tray?”
“I am. Is it time for my next dose of laudanum?”
“I think so. Let me get that for you, and then I need to head downstairs.”
She administered the dose just how Dr. Wayment had shown her, and then she tucked the bottle back in the small cupboard on the wall. “Will you be all right for a little while?”
“I will be. I’ll try to sleep.”
“That’s a good idea.” She gathered up the tray and then paused. “I’m really glad you’re here and not out in some strange town with people you don’t know.”
“Oh, trust me, Giselle, I’m beyond grateful for that too.”
She left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar in case he needed to call out for someone, and he tried to find a comfortable position. There didn’t seem to be one, so he settled for finding the least painful one and closed his eyes. He needed to stay focused on the positive. He was being well cared for, with good food and caring helpers. Surely the pain would be a little better tomorrow.
***
When he opened his eyes a short time later, Nicholas saw Ho sitting quietly on the chair by the bed.
“Did you get something to eat?”
Ho nodded. “Miss Rachel made sure I eat. And look.” He held up a book. “Miss Britt let me borrow for you.”
“Let’s see it.” Nicholas reached out and took the volume. It was filled with photographs and illustrations. “Are any of these pictures of where you’re from?”
Ho shook his head. “No, but this one look close.” He pointed. “Where I live, there are rice paddies, and many birds. The sun is warm, and we work all day outside.”
“Did you like it there?”
“Very much. But there was no money.” He spread his fingers wide. “No money, no life.”
Nicholas understood all too well what that was like. “Do you have any children?”
“No. My wife, she has sickness in her stomach. No children.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Nicholas turned back to the book. Every page showed a different fascinating scene—mountains topped with mist, curious black-and-white bears, dragons made of red paper. “Do you miss China?”
“Yes. Someday, I want to go back.”
“You do? Do you suppose . . .” Nicholas thought better of his question and closed his mouth, deciding to study another picture instead.
“What, Nick?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“No. What did you want?”
Nicholas laid the book down on the bed. “Is there anything there for a man like me to do?”
Ho’s eyes lit up. “You want to come to China?”
“Maybe for a little while.”
Ho nodded, a grin on his face. “You could work on a boat, or in the rice paddies. You could fish. There are many things.”
Nicholas could almost see himself casting a net into the waters he’d seen in the book, pulling in several dozen fish and preparing them for market. It seemed like a peaceful life, and that appealed to him.
A spasm ripped through his side, and he tried to sit up to ease it. That only made things worse, however, and he gasped.
“Are you all right?” Ho took his arm and tried to help him get situated.
“I’m . . . fine,” Nicholas finally croaked out. “It’s just my side.”
“I think we should tell the doctor,” Ho suggested, and Nicholas didn’t have the energy to tell him no. The little Chinaman scurried off, and Nicholas closed his eyes. If recovery was expected in a month, and this was only day three, he didn’t know how he was going to make it.
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel saw Dr. Wayment enter the hotel and go upstairs, but she couldn’t break away to see what was going on. Mr. Brody had asked to see her, and she needed to stop by his office before she could do anything else.
Once again, meal tickets were spread out on the desk, and her stomach clenched. “Is there a problem again, sir?”
“I’m afraid so. We’re short three dollars.”
“Three dollars? That’s even more than last time.”
Mr. Brody nodded. “This is becoming a serious problem. If the culprit was able to steal money even while it was being kept in my pocket, they are very clever indeed.”
Rachel took the chair in front of the desk, not waiting to be asked to sit, but figuring it didn’t really matter. “Sir, I think it’s time to bring this up in our morning meeting. It’s all very well and good to try to solve it quietly, but if everyone knew what was going on, they could help us be more alert, and if the culprit is one of our own, they’d know we were looking into it. They might stop.”
Mr. Brody nodded. “You’re right. I’ll sit in on the meeting, and I’ll ask Tom and Harriet to be there as well. Tom works mostly outside, and Harriet spends her time caring for my daughter, but they should be on their toes as well.”
“Thank you, sir. I can’t help but feel that one way or another, we’ll
bring this to an end.”
“I certainly hope so. A total loss of five dollars certainly isn’t the end of the world, but over time, it could add up and cause some difficulties for us.”
“And a loss of trust as well.”
Mr. Brody peered at her. “This has been difficult for you.”
“It has.” She didn’t like wondering who around her might be something other than they appeared. She also had to admit, though, that Nicholas’s injury had been the first thing on her mind, and she hadn’t been thinking about the thief as much as she ought to have been. Perhaps this second theft was her fault. If she’d been better at doing her job instead of getting caught up in her worries about the young man in room two, maybe that money wouldn’t have gone missing.
“Let’s discuss it at the morning meeting and bring everyone onto the same page with us, and with any luck, having it out in the open will put a stop to it.” Mr. Brody picked up his pen, but then set it back down again. “How is Nicholas doing?”
“Please check in and let me know. I need to finish this up and then visit the general store for some supplies—otherwise, I’d pay him a call myself.”
“All right, sir.” As Rachel climbed the stairs, she chastised herself once again. More attention on the dining room, and less on Nicholas Hardy.
***
As soon as Dr. Wayment loosened the bandages around Nicholas’s torso, he immediately felt some relief, but he still wanted to rip them off entirely. “Is it possible that this is affecting my thinking?” he asked. “I honestly feel as though I’m going crazy.”
“It’s very possible,” Dr. Wayment replied. “Anytime something unnatural happens to the body, the mind can take over and try to come up with explanations for it or radical cures for it. It’s important that you keep reminding yourself of the reality of the situation, that you are healing and that the things we’re doing are for your benefit. This won’t be forever, Nicholas. I promise you that.”
“Is it possible to take the laudanum a little more often? It’s the only thing that seems to be getting me through this.”
Dr. Wayment nodded. “I can understand that. All right, you may take it one half hour earlier than you were before. I’m not going to increase it beyond that, though. Your body might not react to it well.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it.” Nicholas took a deep breath, testing his limits. His lung capacity did seem to have improved slightly, but then there was the sharp pain that told him to ease up. What he wouldn’t give to saddle a horse, ride up into the hills, and fill his lungs over and over again with cool mountain air. A long series of wishes that weren’t liable to come true anytime soon.
“Oh, one more thing, if you wouldn’t mind.” Nicholas pulled an envelope from under his pillow. “On your way out, would you ask one of the waitresses to mail this?”
Dr. Wayment took the envelope. “Hardy. Ah, a letter to your parents?”
A Careless Wind (Kansas Crossroads Book 7) Page 7