Silent, Rosa listened to the exchange. Not all of it was understandable, but she did know that Kase could not move his legs and that he was unable to walk. It was just too soon, she told herself. How could he walk yet, after what he had been through?
The doctor’s answer to Flossie was blunt. “There’s not much chance of that, as I said. I don’t really know why he says he can’t move. Everything else seems fine.”
“So you say he ain’t lyin’, just that he’s crazy?” Zach was still trying to sort it all out.
Quentin stood up. His dour expression matched his tone. “Maybe we need another doctor.”
Richard Earhart placed his cup in the saucer. “By all means. Call in someone else.” He picked up his bag and pushed back his chair as he stood. “I’ve done all I can. The bullet is out, and as far as I can see, his spine is intact. Have him rest quietly until he feels he can be up and about. He’s out now, and I’ve left laundanum in case he has any pain.”
“Can he be moved?” Quentin asked.
The doctor paused for a moment as he considered the question. “I think so, in a day or two. Just move him slowly and carefully.”
Rosa, Zach, and Floss sat in silence, staring down at the patterned tablecloth, as the man quit the room accompanied by Quentin.
“I’ll have to wire his folks,” Zach said to no one in particular.
Flossie shook her head. “I’m for callin’ in a new doctor.”
“Don’t you worry none on that score. Caleb Storm’ll bring in the best money can buy or I ain’t a one-eyed bastard.”
Numb, Rosa tried to stand. Zach stood and in an uncommon show of gentlemanly manners, pulled her chair out for her. “I want to look at him again,” she said to Floss.
The madam stood and took Rosa by the elbow. She leaned close and said, “Listen, honey, if you’d like to stay the night with Kase, you go right on up and do it. I don’t see how it can do any harm now, not with you two bein’ engaged and all.”
Rosa glanced at Zach, who nodded his assent. “Try and get some sleep.”
She turned and took each of their hands in her own. “Grazie, mi amici. Molti grazie.”
Chapter
Eighteen
The guest room at Mountain Shadows was simply but comfortably furnished with a golden bird’s-eye maple bedroom set. The sleigh bed, so named for its curved headboard and footboard, was the widest bed Kase had ever slept in. The length of it even accommodated his height. A dresser with an oval beveled mirror stood opposite the bed. A matching commode with a towel bar stood beside the bed, and near the door, a tall chiffonier completed the group. Two armless chairs graced the room. Part of a parlor set, the chairs were tufted in a gold brocaded plush that complemented the light wood furniture.
Kase Storm’s dark mood was not the fault of the cheery second-story room with a view of the Rockies. Hard as he might, he tried to keep his eyes off of the reflection of himself in the mirror across the room. For two weeks now he had been lying in bed, forced to stare either at himself or out the window. During that time he had become more than a man who was unable to walk. He had become a prisoner of his own making. Too proud to be carried down the stairs, he refused to leave the room. Quentin Rawlins had been courtesy itself, determined that Kase should have every comfort.
It had been Quentin who insisted Kase be moved to Mountain Shadows as soon as the doctor gave permission. Three days after the shooting he was wrapped in blankets, stretched out upon a makeshift bed in the back of a flatbed wagon and driven out to the ranch. Rose had been at his side then, as she had every moment since his accident. Consideration for Rose had been part of the reason behind Quentin’s insistence that Kase be moved out of Flossie’s.
He gazed at himself in the mirror and then looked away. It was not hard to remember the discussion he had had with Quentin the day he was carried into this room and Rose was finally persuaded to rest.
Quentin had been fidgeting about the room, shifting the draperies, fluffing the pillows, until Kase irritably told him to stop. “You remind me of an old woman,” Kase had grumbled.
“Well, I’m just glad to have you here. It’s best for Rosa, you know, to have her out of Flossie’s,” Quentin admitted.
“You care a lot about her, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Quentin had paused and quickly dropped his gaze. Too quickly. A sudden thought struck Kase. “You’re against her marrying me, aren’t you?”
“I hope I didn’t give you that impression, Kase.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it? I didn’t realize what was wrong until now, or maybe I didn’t want to see the truth. You weren’t surprised or enthusiastic when I told you about our engagement. You don’t think she should marry me.”
“I have to admit I had my objections at first, but she loves you so much she won’t be happy without you. I just hope you’ve thought about what marrying you will mean to her.”
“I had hoped it would mean she’d be happy. But now?” Kase shrugged and plucked at the bedspread. “Now we have even less on our side.”
“It would have been tough before you were ...”
Kase had watched Quentin struggle to put his disabling condition into words. The man could not bring himself to say the word “paralyzed,” and so he omitted it altogether.
“But don’t get me wrong. You know I’d give you the shirt off my back.”
“I’ve got all the shirts I need, Quentin. In your own way you consider me a friend, but even if I could still walk, you wouldn’t think me good enough for Rose. I’d be better off marrying someone with mixed blood, or a pure-blooded Indian. Or how about a Mexican? Would a Mexican girl do?”
“Kase—”
Abruptly Kase admitted, “You’ll be happy to know I’ve decided not to marry Rose.”
Rawlins had managed to look genuinely dismayed. “But she’s in love with you! She’s got her heart set on it.”
“She’ll have to get it unset.”
Quentin shook his head. “Rosa Audi? You tried to change her mind about living in Busted Heel, and a lot of good it did. This is going to hurt her, Kase.”
“Rose is like a cat. She’ll land on her feet. Besides, you’ll be around to pick her up. Won’t you?”
“Your parents will be here in a couple of weeks.”
Kase had felt his heart lurch. “What?”
“I wired them. They’re on their way.” Quentin turned and started to leave the room. “Maybe they can talk some sense into you.”
“Quentin, wait,” Kase had called out just as the door was about to close.
Rawlins paused in the open doorway.
“Don’t say anything to them about Rose and me.”
“Won’t they wonder who she is? I can’t exactly lock her out of here.”
“I’ll take care of them.”
With a final meaningful stare, Quentin had said, “I bet you will.”
Kase put the memory aside, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. He wished he wasn’t beholden to Quentin, wished he could refuse the man’s hospitality, get up and walk away. But until Caleb and Analisa arrived, there was not much he could do.
They were due to be here in a few hours. Zach was ready and waiting in town to bring them out to the ranch. As much as he looked forward to seeing them again, Kase dreaded the coming reunion. How was he to apologize for everything he had said to them? He had been selfishly cruel and unfeeling toward them both, and now he found himself needing them more than ever. He wouldn’t have blamed them if they had refused to come to Wyoming, but as always, they would stand by him.
He didn’t deserve them. Either of them. But he hoped that after they arrived he would find the right words to let them know how much he loved them both. And, he thought hopefully, maybe their presence would keep him from dwelling on Rose.
Analisa Van Meeteren Storm paused outside her son’s bedroom door and drew a long, steadying breath. She reached out for the knob, saw how badly her hand was shaking, and pulled it back. She
pressed her palms together. Her fingers were icy cold. She pressed her hands against her cheeks and took another deep breath.
Analisa was not sure what she would find on the other side of the door. Dear Zach, on the way out from town, had told them about the shooting. When they arrived, Quentin had assured them that Kase was still strong, although bedridden. He expressed some concern for her son’s spirits, but said his health was as good as could be expected.
She wished she could breeze through the door as if the confrontation that had caused Kase to leave home had never happened. But her feelings ran too deep to make light of the issue. She could not hide her emotions as so many women did. For the first time in her life, Analisa was hesitant to be with her son.
How would he respond? What did he think of her after what he had learned in Boston? She had been spared any memory of the rape she had suffered that had resulted in his birth, but she had been foolish to hope to hide the facts from him for so many years. Kase was intelligent and sensitive. He had been so all of his life. She should have known that the questions he persisted in asking about his real father would not easily be brushed aside.
And now, because she had tried to shield him from the truth, he had left home, taken a job as marshal, and as a result, lay paralyzed in the bed beyond the door.
Listening intently, she did not hear a sound coming from the room. She reached out again, her hand not much steadier than before, and silently turned the knob.
Kase was sound asleep. Analisa tiptoed across the room and stood beside the bed staring down at him. Except for the shadows beneath his eyes he looked much the same as he had when he left Boston. For a moment he frowned in his sleep; then his facial features relaxed. He had looked the same as when he was a child.
Even in sleep he was not at peace.
Life in the East had been a struggle for him, much more so than when they had all lived in the Dakotas where a half-breed, though not fully accepted, was not viewed as an oddity the way Kase and Caleb had been in Boston. When Kase was a little boy she wanted to keep him safely hidden away from the world in their little sod house on the prairie. But even then she knew in her heart that her plan was not a realistic one. When Caleb came to them he had opened the door to a world Analisa might have never known. He had loved Kase and called him his own.
Caleb was her strength. She would have chosen him over a hundred men. A thousand. Just as Kase was a part of her soul, Caleb was her life.
Kase frowned again and shifted uncomfortably. Unable to resist touching him any longer, Analisa carefully sat on the bed and smoothed his hair back off his forehead. She palmed his cheek and watched as his eyes opened and the slow light of recognition dawned in them.
He stared at her for a moment and started to speak, then stopped. Analisa smiled down at him.
He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed her palm and placed it against his cheek again. His eyes filled with tears.
Analisa continued to smile through tears of her own as she bent to embrace him. She cradled her son, helped him to sit upright, and then gently rocked him in her arms.
Time passed slowly as mother and son nurtured each other in a way they had not done in years. Finally Kase raised his head and brushed away his tears, embarrassed by such a show of raw emotion.
“Mama?”
“Ja?”
“Ik hou ‘van jou,” he said in Dutch. “I love you.”
“Ik hou van jou,” she whispered back.
He continued speaking softly in her native language. “I’m so sorry, Mama.”
“Don’t speak of it.”
“No, I must. I hurt you and I hurt Caleb. I said many things that were cruel and unjust. I was only thinking of myself—”
“Of your own hurt. Which I understand. We did not want you to know the truth, but in that we were wrong.”
He reclined against the pillow but held her hands, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. “I probably would have done the same thing in your place.”
Analisa felt relief at his admission. “Can you put the past behind you now? Laat het gaan?”
Kase nodded. “I’m trying to let it go.”
“Good. It is the only way.” She hugged him again and wiped her eyes.
He studied her carefully. Aside from soft lines about her eyes and mouth, she had not changed for as long as he could remember. His mother was a beautiful woman, one any man would be proud to have on his arm. Her blond hair was upswept in a sophisticated new style that was unlike her. Her dress was tastefully impeccable, a two-piece aqua silk, fitted and gathered at the back into a cascade of ruffles. Although Analisa was an accomplished seamstress in her own right, Caleb insisted she buy the very best clothes in Boston and New York. They attended so many receptions in Washington that she obliged him.
In a characteristic movement, she reached up and swept her hand along her neckline to make certain her hair was still in place. He watched her as she seemed to struggle with a decision.
“Caleb wants to see you,” she said, her eyes full of hope for reconciliation.
“I don’t know why. I said some pretty rough things to him.”
“May I get him?”
Kase nodded. “Of course. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed you both.”
Her smile was as radiant as the sun as she stood and went to get his stepfather.
Just as Analisa had done before him, Caleb entered the room alone. But unlike his wife, he did not need to hesitate outside the door. There was much he needed to say to his stepson and the sooner said the better.
The sight of Kase in bed, the knowledge that the young man could not stand to greet him, shook Caleb to the core. He hid his concern and crossed the room, a warm smile on his face.
“Kase.”
Kase turned away from the window and watched Caleb Storm walk confidently to his bedside. He reached out and the two shook hands formally until Kase tugged him forward and they embraced. With much back-slapping and bear-hugging, the two were reunited, but both knew there was still much to be said.
Caleb rose abruptly, wiped his eyes as he turned away from Kase, and pulled a chair up close to the bedside. He sat down heavily and let out a sigh of relief. “Do you know how glad I am to see you?”
Kase smiled. “I think so. I feel the same way about you.”
“I wish we were all together under other circumstances.”
“Yeah.” Kase shrugged. “I was all ready to go back to Boston soon to apologize to you and Mama.” He would not allow himself to think of Rose and their plans.
“I’ve got a few apologies of my own saved up.”
“They won’t match mine, but you go first.”
Both men smiled.
“Kase, we only did what we thought was right. I was trying to protect your mother.”
“I know that now,” Kase admitted, “and I wish to God I hadn’t goaded you into telling me the truth. But I’m glad it’s out in the open.”
“We are, too. I just hope you haven’t agonized over this all these months.”
Kase refused to lie. “It haunted me for quite a while. I wondered if I was becoming like him, if I was capable of committing the type of crimes he did, but I learned the hard way that I don’t enjoy killing. Even if the man deserves it.”
“You aren’t the first man to discover that.” Caleb looked down at Kase’s immobile legs. Had he refused to fire on the gunman who had brought him down? Was that why he had been wounded? “Self-defense is another matter, though.”
“Before my time as marshal was through I had to kill again. We had quite a bit of excitement here for Busted Heel.”
“So I heard from Zach.”
“I think all I ended up inheriting from”—he paused, carefully choosing his words—“from that man is a hell of a temper and the tendency to carry a grudge.”
Caleb laughed. “Don’t forget you got some of that temper from your mother.”
Kase glanced up at his reflection in the mirror and collected his
courage. “What I said about you and Mother—”
“You said it in anger. The world had just been knocked out from under you.”
“That’s no excuse. I can’t imagine her with anyone but you.”
Caleb smiled a faraway smile and agreed. “Nor can I imagine what my life would have been without her.”
“Do you forgive me?”
Caleb reached out toward the man he considered his son and shook his hand.
A thin layer of bright white snow crusted the ground but quickly turned to mud-brown slush beneath the red wheels of the buggy. From where she sat snuggled amid the blankets Zach Elliot had provided for the long ride to Mountain Shadows in the hired carriage, Rosa stared out at the endless miles of rolling plains backdropped by snow-blanketed mountains. The sky stretched out in every direction, a pure ceiling of blue unrelieved by even a wisp of a cloud. Although the sun was shining, the air was so thick with cold that Zach claimed he could cut it with a knife.
When Quentin Rawlins insisted Kase be taken to Mountain Shadows, Zach had driven her out to the ranch as often as weather would permit. Rosa had spent the first five days and nights caring for Kase, unwilling to leave his side. Then, as he slowly began to recover, his confinement did little to ease his ill humor. Although Quentin extended an invitation for her to stay on, Kase had insisted she return to town and the restaurant. Quentin’s housekeeper would see to his needs, he said. His parents would arrive soon enough, and there was no longer any reason for Rosa to hover over him. She had finally agreed when she realized that should Kase be bedridden long, they would need the income from the restaurant to support them both.
As the buggy jostled over the familiar rutted road toward the ranch, Rosa thought about the night Kase had driven her to the barbecue over this same route. It seemed a lifetime ago. The frustrated, angry man lying in bed in Quentin’s guest room reminded her little of the man who had whirled her through the steps of the waltz and out into the autumn night. She frowned and tried to put such thoughts aside. Time would heal his wound and his anxiety. She tried to understand the fear and confusion he felt as he faced an uncertain future.
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