“Do you know when Abe is expected to return?” Lord, please let it be soon.
Karen shook her head. “Maybe in an hour. Maybe tomorrow.”
Annie drew in a long breath. She couldn’t leave Karen. Not for the time it would take to ride back to Hartville, even at a gallop. No. She would do the best she could alone.
Hours dragged by. The contractions strengthened. Karen’s fever worsened. She writhed on the mattress, screaming, her body fighting against itself.
“Breathe, Karen. Don’t fight the pain.” Annie pressed a cool cloth to the woman’s sizzling forehead.
Lord. Please send Abe. Soon. I need Travis’s help. I can’t save this mother alone.
“Just help my baby! Please, save my little girl.” A strangled cry rose from Karen’s throat.
Tears formed in Annie’s eyes. How could she tell this woman the truth? How could she face Karen once her baby was born dead?
“I’ll do my best.” The words sounded brittle in the dank air of the cabin. “We’ll both do our best.”
The end came quickly after that. Heartbreakingly so. Annie placed the tiny blue body in a blanket and laid it on the table. She rushed to Karen’s side again. The mother was all that mattered. She felt the woman’s pulse. Low. Dangerously. Karen’s breath came in short, weighted gasps.
“How’s my baby? Is it a little girl?”
Annie nodded. “You were right, Karen. A little girl.” She lifted the sheet to examine the woman.
Her heart slammed against her chest. Blood pooled on the dirty linen.
A hemorrhage.
No. Please, God, no.
Karen’s heart rate dropped. The metallic scent of blood overpowered the air.
“Abe. Where is he?” Karen’s voice came out in a gasp.
“Still not back.” Annie prepared a dose of ergot, one of the few remedies she’d seen work in cases like these. The afterbirth needed to arrive, fully intact, for the hemorrhage to stop.
“Why won’t he come? I need him. He needs to see the baby. Do him so much good … see his little girl.”
The gush of red continued. A convulsion racked Karen’s body. It was at moments like these, Annie felt exactly what she was. Totally powerless. Powerless to save the baby. Powerless to stop the bleeding.
Powerless to keep Karen Sandler from passing from this world into the next.
Never before had he laid his emotions out, bare, raw, and bleeding to another living soul. Yet he’d done it now, confessing his love, offering himself, his heart.
Annie had rejected him. With her eyes, which spoke volumes more than any words. There’d been those, too. Apologies. Tears. She’d said how sorry she was for her unladylike behavior.
A dry smile crossed Travis’s lips, and he gave a furious scrub at the examining room floor. If the passion she’d shown in her kiss was what she considered unladylike conduct, then let propriety hang!
It was over between them. He wouldn’t force his affections on her. That would only make the both of them miserable.
No. He must say good-bye to Annie Lawrence. The Annie who had lived in his memory for so long, taking up far too much space with her beautiful brightness.
In doing so, he might as well give a hearty bon voyage to his inheritance. He wasn’t about to marry another woman, and he wouldn’t ask his father to make an exception and grant one of his sons his share of the land without a wife.
Not that he cared all that much. Medicine, not cattle and horses, had always been his passion. He would still have a comfortable life without his place at the 7 Heart.
Who was he kidding? He did want his inheritance, to take his place beside his brothers and work the land and livestock his father loved so much.
He chucked the soapy rag in the bucket with more force than necessary. Sudsy water splashed everywhere, including all over his shirt and trousers.
A word his mother would have cringed to hear him use sizzled from his mouth before he could check himself.
Two losses, one after the other. Annie. His inheritance.
God, why? Is there sin in my life preventing me from being blessed? Annie is a free woman again, so there’s no wrong in our being together. I love her. How am I supposed to quit? Love isn’t like a fire in a furnace, that can be doused at a moment’s notice. You can’t turn it on and off so easy. Is that what You expect me to do? Quit loving her? I might as well tell myself to quit walking. Or breathing.
A knot lodged in his throat, making it ache. What was it the chaplain had said during that wartime service? Something about God giving strength to bear all trials, no matter how great? Well, the Almighty had him all wrong. Because Travis wasn’t sure if he could endure seeing Annie again without the knife-thrust of rejection slicing him clean through each and every time.
Yet God had never failed him before. Not during the war, when he’d seen men fall only inches away from his face. Not throughout the long years of medical school, when he questioned his destiny and considered walking away without a degree. Never once had His hand not been evident in Travis’s life.
Still, the doubts rolled in. What would his brothers think when they heard of his failure? Bowie would understand. Houston, too. But happily married Hays and Chisholm would think him a type of deserter. They wouldn’t say it out loud, of course, but Travis couldn’t fault them for thinking it. In their position, he might do the same. Like Shakespeare said, anyone could master grief but him that bears it.
A price he must pay. To stay true to himself. To remain a man of honor.
God, be my guide as You’ve been so many times before. Help me to find fresh meaning in life, even a life that’s not the way I’ve been picturing it. And be with Annie. Keep me from…
Loving her? It was what he needed to say.
But it was the last thing he could bring himself to put into words.
Chapter Nine
Less than ten minutes after Karen Sandler breathed her last, her husband entered the room. Annie couldn’t imagine the emotions that went through him as he took in the scene. A baby lying on the table, blue and lifeless. Blood saturating the mattress. His wife, cold and ashen, in the midst of that blood.
Abe Sandler’s face betrayed nothing. For the space of several seconds, he just stared. As if unwilling to believe the truth his eyes told.
Annie forced her shaking legs to support her and crossed the cabin floor. Far too soon, she stood in front of Karen’s husband.
Lord, how am I to tell him?
“Your wife went into labor soon after you left. The baby was premature and did not survive. After the delivery, your wife suffered a severe hemorrhage. I did everything I could … I’m so desperately sorry.” Her words faltered, tears blurring her vision.
Abe shook his head, a slow, back-and-forth motion of disbelief. His face might have been hewn in granite, it looked so hard. “No!” That simple word pierced the close air like a knife-thrust. “No. Karen ain’t dead. The child ain’t dead, either. You save ’em. That’s what you’re paid for.”
“I’m sorry.” With effort, she blinked back tears and straightened her shoulders. The midwife she’d trained with had taught her to remain calm during cases like this, and she wouldn’t forsake that training. “I did everything in my power. She needed a doctor, and there was no one here to fetch one. There was nothing more I could have done.”
“No. You save my wife.” Though his words were wooden, the twist of his wrist as he pulled a pistol from his pocket was lightning-quick. He aimed the barrel at Annie with a steady hand. “You make Karen better. And if you can’t, you’re a killer, not a midwife. I’ll just save the court the trouble and do you in myself. Now, I’m goin’ outside. If you step even one foot out of this door, it better be ’cause she’s all right.”
A chill traveled from her shoulders down to her feet. “You can’t do that to me. Childbirth is a dangerous ordeal. There is no guarantee of a woman’s survival. I did my best. Your wife was ill, undernourished, and living in deplorable cond
itions. None of that was my fault.”
With a ram of his fist, Sandler shoved her against the cabin wall. Pain jolted down her spine. He leaned in, his words low, breath fetid with liquor. “Shut up. I don’t want any more words out of you.” He pulled back abruptly and stormed out the cabin door. The slam of wood against wood shot terror deep through Annie’s bones.
She’d only met Sandler once before. But Mrs. Miller had told her about him. The man had fought in the war and come back alive. Though according to rumor, it might’ve been better had he not. Even Karen had told her—in hushed whispers—of Abe’s terrible nightmares, how the slightest thing set him off like a powder keg with a single spark.
Now Karen was dead; Annie, miles from help of any sort.
She chanced a look out the single cabin window. Sandler sat, his six-foot frame barring the door, pistol gripped between his hands.
Her gaze swung back to Karen. Annie had closed the woman’s eyes, but the glassy orbs had reopened and appeared fixated on the ceiling, as if the woman were simply deep in thought.
Though a trail of perspiration slithered down her spine, Annie shivered. Perhaps if she waited until Sandler fell asleep, she could make an escape. But if he awoke and caught her … The cold steel of the pistol filled her vision.
God, what now?
She sank to the dirt floor, hugging her arms around her knees. Hours passed. As quietly as she could, Annie cleaned the cabin, washed Karen and the baby, and covered them with a blanket. Her throat tightened. Karen had cherished so much hope for the new life inside her. The first time Annie had met the woman, her faded eyes sparkled, a smile on her lips. Now she would never smile again, never hold a squirming infant in her arms.
Dear God, why?
Sandler still sat outside, unmoving, except to take a swig from an amber bottle now and then. Would anyone realize her absence and start to investigate? Her father probably wouldn’t. He himself had said he never expected her back for days on end. Who else would care? Robbie and Josie, but would the concern of either be taken strongly enough to warrant a search?
What if Sandler did kill her? Her life would end. Robbie would lose his mother. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She hadn’t even said good-bye to him this morning, wrapped up in her own turmoil. What a terrible mother she was. Now would she ever have a chance to be a better one?
Another face filled her memory, creeping in at the edges before consuming the whole. Travis. She’d rejected him. It had been a chance at a new start, and what had she done? Ruined it.
No. She’d been right. She didn’t deserve a new start.
“Don’t let guilt over something that happened so many years ago determine the way you face your tomorrows.”
“I don’t know if I can, Mrs. Miller. I’ve carried this guilt around for so long. I don’t know how to let it go. Or even if I should. Don’t I deserve to be punished? I broke a commandment. I committed adultery in my heart when I was married to Stuart.”
“No condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.”
The verse she had read only yesterday flashed through her thoughts. Then the words seemed empty, meant for others, not her. But now, as she sat alone in this cabin…
“God, I need answers. If You have truly forgiven me, help me to see it. I’m tired of feeling guilty about the past. I want Your blessings. Not because I deserve them, but because You love me. I know others have been given grace. I want to know that whatever happens, whether I walk through this door and return to my family, or whether I die here, that I’m forgiven.”
No condemnation.
“Truly, Lord?” She raised her gaze to the ceiling.
No condemnation.
“And about Travis? My heart craves marriage. I don’t want to be a widow for the rest of my life. I want babies and a family. Can I have those, too?” Though exhaustion weighed heavy on her body, her heart had never been so at peace. Perhaps the enemy had been using guilt to steal this intimacy with her heavenly Father. Intimacy she desperately longed for.
The answer rose up, the cleansing waters of truth washing away the built-up grime of lies.
No condemnation, daughter. Rest in My love.
Taking the afternoon off to visit the Parker ranch had to be one of the stupidest things
Travis had ever done. All because he’d promised to give Robbie his old Stetson.
Then promptly forgot after the boy’s mother broke his heart.
He slowed his horse as he reached the end of the drive. If anything, the ranch looked in worse disrepair than it ever had. Weeds grew in tangled abandon. A few shingles had blown off the roof and lay littered on the ground.
Not that it mattered much to him. He only wanted to see Robbie, give him the hat.
And steer clear of Annie.
He pulled the hat out of his saddlebag, climbed the steps, and knocked once on the door. A couple of minutes passed before it opened.
“Dr. Hart.” Instead of giving her usual flirty smile, a wrinkle formed in Josie’s brow.
“Miss Parker. I just came by to see Robbie. Is he around?”
Josie nodded. “Yes. He’s sort of upset right now, though.”
“Why?” Travis fingered the battered Stetson, meeting her gaze.
“It’s Annie.”
The simple mention of her name, coupled with the edge in Josie’s voice, kicked his pulse to a dangerously high rate.
“She hasn’t been back since yesterday. I’ve been trying to convince Father to go looking for her, but he won’t listen to a word of reason.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Dear God, please let her be all right. Please let us find her whole and well, not…
“She went on her rounds. I don’t know her patients who might be close to delivery.” Josie bit her lip, the troubled look in her eyes so like Annie’s. Travis forced himself to look away.
“She didn’t mention anything?”
Josie tilted her head. “She said she wanted a good long ride to clear her head. And she took an apple and a slice of bread from the kitchen, so I figured she knew she’d be gone for some time.”
He mentally ran over a list of the expectant women who dwelt in the surrounding area. Emma—Hays’s wife, but Annie wasn’t at the 7 Heart. Margaret Foster, who lived just outside of town. Beth Perkins—she had to be at least eight months along, and the Perkins homestead was several miles away. Karen Sandler. Wife of Abe Sandler, a man known for his strange behavior, brought on after the war. The Sandlers lived the farthest out of anyone.
“I have a couple of ideas.” He turned sharply and strode down the steps. “Don’t worry, Miss Parker. I’ll find her.”
He’d do so quicker if he had help, and with a passel of brothers around, he easily found that. Hays had been preparing to take a ride, and he offered to assist Travis by going to the Perkins’ place and checking some of the back roads.
Travis decided to take Bowie with him to the Sandler cabin.
Bowie wasn’t much for needless conversation, so the brothers rode in silence. Travis was glad of it. Gave him time to think, time he sorely needed. Without a second thought, he’d volunteered to search for the woman he loved. Guess the Almighty hadn’t given him much help in getting over her.
Or maybe, just maybe, the Lord had other plans. Plans that involved growing closer instead of further apart to the beautiful woman who had caught hold of his heart.
No. He couldn’t go there. A man could only take so much disappointment.
“What are you fixing to do when you find her?” Thankfully, Bowie hadn’t said if.
“I just want to find her first.” He’d content himself with seeing her safe and well. Even if she looked at him as she had during their last meeting, he wouldn’t flinch. It would be enough to know no harm had come to her.
As they neared the Sandler cabin, foreboding shadowed Travis like a ghostly specter. Bowie seemed to sense it, too, his posture tense, his gaze constantly roving.
The holstered pist
ol pressed tighter against Travis’s hip as they drew into the clearing. Travis sucked in a breath. Sandler sat in front of the cabin door, swigging from a bottle. For the moment, he appeared not to have noticed them.
The brothers dismounted, tying the horses to a tree near the woods.
Travis kept his tone low. “Whether she’s in there or not, Sandler’s drunk. How much, I can’t tell. Let’s just act as if we’re paying a friendly visit.”
Bowie gave a quick nod.
They stepped into the clearing. Travis forced an easy smile. “Afternoon to you, Abe.”
Sandler looked up. His eyes had the look of a hunted wolf. “Get off my land.” His tone was clear, evidencing he wasn’t as drunk as Travis had first suspected.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Do you mind if I go inside and say hello to Karen?” Travis resisted the urge to finger his pistol.
“I said get off my land. You’re not welcome.” Sandler stood, his six-foot height surpassing Travis by a couple of inches. Bowie was taller, though. Good thing they’d come together.
Thank You, Lord, for giving me foresight. And tall brothers.
Travis took a couple of steps closer, gaze on the window. A flash of movement from inside caught his attention. His heart pounded. Annie. She was in there. Had to be.
“I just want to give something to Karen. I need to make sure she and the baby are doing all right. I’ll only be a minute.” He kept his tone soothing, speaking slowly and clearly. This tone had worked to calm soldiers, five-year-olds, and little old ladies. Hopefully it still had the right effect.
Without warning, Sandler crumpled to the ground. He curled into a ball, shoulders shaking. Travis was no stranger to the cries coming from his lips. He’d heard them on the battlefield and in field hospitals. Even once or twice from down the hall at the Hart house, coming from the room where Bowie slept.
His brother crouched beside the man, relieving him of his weapon. Travis couldn’t tell what Bowie was saying, but a second later, his brother looked up. “Go get her.”
Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection Page 23