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Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series

Page 33

by Cynthia Hickey


  She shook her head. “That’s not wise. If he hollers, you’ll want me to stop, even when I can’t. Go on, now.”

  He nodded and shuffled to the kitchen. Ruth rushed past him with a pan of boiling water. “Grandma run you out already?”

  “Yes, but I want to help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. Grandma’s patched up many a soldier. Don’t worry. Your brother is in good hands.” She disappeared up the stairs.

  Within minutes, his brother’s cries filled the house. John fell into a straw-seated chair, covered his face, and prayed.

  Chapter 13

  “Grandma?” Ruth set the pan of hot water on a bedside table. Next to it, she set the goldenseal and clean cloths. “Can you help him?”

  “Only God knows, dear. He’s horribly malnourished, and this wound was never taken care of properly.” Grandma lifted the dirty bandage from the sleeping man’s side. “I’m afraid it’s festering.”

  Ruth bent over Luke. The man’s ribs protruded through his skin. Sharp cheekbones stretched his face above a greasy beard. Most likely infested with lice, too. It was hard to imagine this man was John’s twin. Maybe if he were healthy and fattened up he’d be as handsome as his brother.

  “I’ve got to cut the stitches, then wash the wound. I’m afraid we’ll have to re-stitch.” Grandma bent low over Luke, who’d opened his eyes. “This is going to hurt, Mister Powell. A lot. My granddaughter is going to do her best to hold you still. You let her, you hear?”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am.” His feeble frame shook.

  Hold him? She couldn’t. It was bad enough she was here helping a man that lay half-undressed. Not that she hadn’t seen a man without a shirt before. She’d helped Grandma nurse other men, but this was John’s brother. “Grandma…”

  “I’ll do it.” John stormed into the room. “You can’t make me stay away.”

  Grandma kept her gaze on her patient. “Very well. It ain’t proper for Ruth to be in here anyway.” She planted her fists on her hips. “I need whiskey.”

  Ruth took a deep breath and rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. She scrounged through the cupboard until she found the whiskey they kept for medicinal purposes. Squaring her shoulders, she headed back to Grandma and the others.

  *

  Luke woke, and bucked as Grandma washed his wound. John dashed to his side and pressed his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “I’m here, brother. I’ll hold you.”

  Luke spit out the leather. “You’re … not as … pretty as she … is.”

  John forced a smile. “Sorry. Guess I should’ve shaved.” He glanced at Grandma. “How much longer?”

  “Just got to stitch him back up and put on a clean dressing. He’ll have one heck of a scar. Then, we wait and pray. Talk to him. Take his mind off what I’m doing.”

  Wait. Always the hardest thing for John to do. His gut clinched. He thanked God for bringing Luke home, but prayed it wasn’t to say goodbye. “There’s been a lot happening around here since you’ve been gone.” Maybe Miriam was right. If John kept talking, his brother wouldn’t focus on the pain of a needle and thread pulling through his tortured skin.

  “We have a restaurant now. Here in your house. It’s run by these two lovely ladies, Miriam and Ruth Stallings. There’s two younger ones, Deborah and Sarah, and you’ve never seen the men of this town make bigger fools of themselves.

  “A twister knocked down the big tree on the side of the house. Caused us to do some repairs to the roof…” John rambled until Luke fell unconscious. He pulled the thin sheet over his brother’s body.

  Ruth tapped his shoulder. “Grandma’s done, and so is your brother.”

  John leaned back. “Thank you, ladies. My brother couldn’t have finer nurses.”

  Ruth lifted the pan of water and soiled rags with shaking hands.

  “Just craziness flitting through my mind. I didn’t really expect to ever see him alive again.” John lowered himself into a rocking chair beside the bed. “Thank you for everything. I’m going to sit with him for awhile.”

  “That’s good.” Miriam closed her bag. “We’ll give him some tonic in awhile and some broth in the morning. Call us if he starts twitching or something. Definitely if he feels to hot to you.”

  Ruth followed Miriam out the door.

  John sat in the straight-back chair until morning. Sleep came in small dozes. He stretched and tried to stifle the groan that erupted from his throat.

  “I’m awake.” Luke turned his head. “Seems all I do is fall in and out of sleep.”

  John ran his hands down his face. “You look bad.”

  “I feel worse.”

  “What happened? The war’s been over for months.”

  One corner of Luke’s mouth lifted. “It was already over when I got this. I was on my way home. We were packing up camp, laughing, and having a good old time, despite having the lost the war.” He speared John with a glance. “I didn’t like fighting on opposite sides, John.”

  “Neither did I, but a man has to follow his heart.”

  “True. Anyway, some wild man dashed from the bushes and stuck me with his bayonet. Never did find out what side he fought on. Anyway, he didn’t live long enough to stab anyone else. Five guns must’ve fired into him. Can’t say I felt too awful, considering.” He pointed to John’s leg. “What happened to you? I noticed the limp. Although you seem to have healed up good.”

  “Also a bayonet. Obviously, I had a better doctor than you. Within a month, I was walking with a cane. A couple of months later, all I had was this limp. It’s almost gone now.”

  Luke laughed. “Bet I had a prettier nurse.”

  “Definitely.” John chuckled. “I didn’t have anyone doctoring me but some old man that smelled like a bear.”

  “You’re awake.” Ruth knocked then strolled into the room carrying a wooden tray. “I’ve got medicine for you.”

  “Help me sit up, John. I’m tired of this lovely girl seeing me lying here helpless.”

  John glowered, but rushed to help. He couldn’t possibly be jealous of a sick man, could he? Much less his brother? Luke had always been a flirt. Now wouldn’t be any different. He’d probably wink at a pretty girl seconds before his eyes closed in death. John propped pillows behind his brother’s back then resumed his seat.

  Ruth blushed. John’s mouth fell open, and he snapped it closed. Since when did Ruth blush?

  “I’ll let your brother help you. I’m sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do. John, give him a spoonful of the elderberry tonic. It’ll help him sweat out the fever. Allow him as much of the broth as he wants.” She placed a hand on Luke’s forehead, who pretended to swoon. “Still very hot, Mister Powell. Stop this foolish playing around and get some rest.” With a swish of her skirts, she left the room.

  John grinned. Leave it to Ruth to put a man properly in his place.

  *

  Gracious. Just what Ruth needed; another man set out to win her hand. And John’s brother, no less. She leaned against the wall outside the bedroom. Her nerves still jittered from the painful nursing, and she twisted her trembling hands in the folds of her apron. She’d helped Grandma nurse men and seen some die, but she’d never had to fight to keep one alive. She hoped John wouldn’t have to see his brother go home to meet his maker.

  A flatterer or not, the man wasn’t out of danger yet. The threat of infection still loomed over him. Filthy butcher of a doctor! Tears pricked the backs of her eyelids, and she pressed a fist to her mouth. She needed fresh air. Lifting her skirts, Ruth dashed down the stairs and outside, making a beeline to her favorite spot on the bluff overlooking the river.

  She threw herself on a patch of thick clover and laid her arm over her eyes to block out the sun. The sour odor of Luke’s infection and the metallic scent of his blood still lingered in her nostrils.

  “Ruth?”

  She moved her arm. John lowered himself cross-legged beside her. “Are you all right?”

 
“Oh, John.” She launched into his arms. “I’m not cut out to be a nurse. I’m just not.”

  “You did fine.” He patted her back. “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. What you had to do for Luke would’ve been difficult for anyone. I know it was for me.”

  She leaned back and peered into his face. “Really? I felt helpless and weak. You know I don’t like to feel that way.”

  He drew her close for a hug. “Yes, I know.” His chuckle rumbled beneath her ear. “But you don’t need to do everything on your own.”

  “Maybe not.” She looked over the water. The afternoon sun sparkled across the grey surface. Ripples from where a fish jumped spread, until disappearing. A peaceful place. Exactly what she’d been looking for. So, why did her insides still churn with uncertainty?

  Chapter 14

  “How’s the patient?” Ruth set a breakfast tray beside Grandma, then placed a hand on Luke’s clammy brow.

  “He’s sweating.” Grandma lifted the mug of freshly brewed coffee. “And he survived the night. Both very good things. I think he’ll be all right. Deborah and Sarah can help sit with him today so we can keep the restaurant open.”

  “But they’re so young.” Ruth snagged a piece of toast from the tray. Her sisters weren’t mature enough to nurse a grown man.

  “You’ve got to let them grow up.” Grandma stood. “Stop trying to do everything yourself.”

  Everyone seemed to have those same thoughts. She settled in the rocker her grandmother vacated. If Ruth didn’t take care of things, then who would? Grandma already voiced she didn’t desire to be the head of the family, and Ruth’s sisters were too young. That left her. But, yes, she wanted her sisters to be independent women. She nodded.

  “Okay, send Deborah in. She can give Luke his broth once he wakes. But I do not want them giving him a sponge bath. I draw the line there.”

  Grandma smiled. “That’s my girl.” She clapped Ruth’s shoulder. “I expect to see you in church again on Sunday. Regular attendance will show you who is old enough to handle everything. And it isn’t you, me, or even your sisters.”

  Ruth sighed as Grandma left the room. Why did everyone insist on telling her God was in control? She’d seen firsthand how He handled things, and she wasn’t impressed. Not if God’s way of handling things meant tearing families apart.

  The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, highlighting the man on the bed. He groaned and tossed in his sleep. A noise from the corner of the room answered in kind. Ruth jerked her attention in that direction.

  John sat slumped, fast asleep, in a straight-backed chair. How could she have missed him? Ruth took the opportunity to study John. His hair fell forward over his eyes. Whisker stubble covered his chin and jawline. She’d rarely seen a prettier man. If he dandied himself up with a suit and slicked back his hair, it’d be hard to picture him as a sheriff, much less a tough mountain man. She’d always thought lawmen were supposed to be rugged and hard as nails. John might know the mountains and how to use a gun, but he definitely didn’t hide behind a tough exterior.

  No, that was Ruth’s persona. She kept a shell around her as hard as armadillo armor. Her shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t she be feminine and sweet like her sisters? Or funny and endearing like Grandma?

  A knock sounded on the door. “Ruth?” Deborah tiptoed in. “Grandma sent me. What do you want me to do?”

  “There’s a basin of cool water and a cloth. If he feels hot to the touch, bathe his face and neck. That’s all.” Ruth gave Deborah a stern look. “There’s also some broth if you wouldn’t mind spooning it to him when he wakes.”

  “I don’t mind.” Deborah stared down at Luke. “He might be handsome once he’s recovered, don’t you think?” She gave Ruth a coy glance. “I’ve read that a lot of men fall in love with their nurses. I wouldn’t mind being a mayor’s wife. If I decide to marry, that is.”

  Ruth perked up. “If?”

  Deborah shrugged. “I think I’d like to start a school in Painted Bluff. Do you think I’d make a good teacher?”

  That was the best news Ruth heard in a long time. One of her sisters had a dream other than marriage. Ruth stood and hugged her sister. “I think you’d make a fine teacher, Deborah. Once Luke is better, we’ll ask him.”

  Ruth fairly skipped to the kitchen. So, Deborah wanted something more than marriage and a passel of kids! Not that she wouldn’t get married at some point, but for now, she wanted to do something important with her life. Joy threatened to bubble out of her as she pulled the ingredients for biscuits from the pantry.

  “What’s got you all chipper?” Grandma handed her a large mixing bowl.

  “Deborah wants to be a teacher.”

  “I’ve known that for weeks.”

  “You have?” Ruth shot her a questioning look. Had her family kept secrets from her?

  “Sure. If you’d slow down once in a while, and take the time to talk to your sisters, you’d find out things.”

  Ruth slumped against the counter. She’d become a regular tyrant. Grandma was right. She spent too much time nagging and working, rather than devoting time to her family. Well, there was no time like the present to remedy the situation. “Let’s go on an overnight hunting trip.”

  “What?” The egg Grandma dropped splattered on the floor. “In the woods?”

  “Sure.” Ruth grabbed a rag hanging from a nail beside the sink. “Just us four. John can watch his brother. That way we can talk. Really talk to each other.”

  “Can’t we just sit around the fire and play checkers, or have a meal with just us?” Grandma’s eyes widened. “I don’t relish the idea of sleeping in the wild. Haven’t we roughed it enough on our journey up river?”

  “Fine.” It was a stupid idea anyway. The thought of prissy Deborah or wild Sarah, much less Grandma, sleeping on the ground was ludicrous. “We’ll have dinner tonight, with just us four.”

  “That is a wonderful idea.” Grandma’s eyes sparkled. “Sorry to dampen your spirits, Ruth, but I’m too old for such things.”

  Ruth returned her smile. “You’re not too old, Grandma, but your idea is just fine.”

  *

  John opened his eyes, gritty with sleep, and blinked against the morning sun. Deborah swished a rag in a basin, then rung out the water. “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight,” Deborah said as she sponged Luke’s face.

  John sat up fast enough to make the room spin. His booted feet clumped against the floor. “I can’t be sleeping. I’ve got work to do.”

  Deborah frowned. “Quiet, please, Mister Powell. You’ll wake your brother.”

  “Sorry.” So, Ruth wasn’t the only bossy Stallings sister, just louder about voicing her opinions.

  “I’m awake.” Luke stirred beneath the quilt. “And I’m roasting. Can you remove the blanket, please?”

  “Certainly.” Deborah folded the quilt into a neat rectangle at the foot of the bed.

  John hid a smirk as she averted her eyes from Luke’s naked chest.

  “Another angel sent to minister to my poor soul.” Luke grinned at Deborah, who blushed and lowered her gaze.

  John rolled his eyes. Would Luke flirt with Sarah, too, when it was her turn to nurse him? He grabbed his hat from the floor. “I need to patrol the town. See what mischief Saturday night brought. Looks like you’re in good care here. I’ll be back later.”

  “Please fill me in on the town’s needs when you return.” Luke struggled to a sitting position. “I may be injured, but I’m still the mayor. Lying in this bed will make me crazy.”

  John paused at the door and turned. “Are you sure? You don’t want to rush things.” John had handled things fine up till now. A few more days wouldn’t matter one way or the other.

  “I’m sure. Coming home to help you run this town, that’s what kept me going during the war. During the dark nights and fevers.”

  John nodded. At this point, having his twin home again, John would promise him anyt
hing in his power. “Okay.”

  He strode into the kitchen in time to open the door for Ruth, who staggered beneath a mountain of pancake-stacked plates.

  “Thank you. Your breakfast is on the counter.” She scooted past him, leaving a scent of vanilla and flour in her wake.

  John hung his hat on a nail beside the door, grabbed his plate, and then leaned against the wall in order to eat. Grandma flitted around him like a hummingbird, while Sarah and Ruth kept the door moving as they rushed in and out with dishes. John smiled. In a million years, he’d never have guessed his brother’s pride-and-joy, his home, would be used as a restaurant for mountain men and farmers.

  There’d been a couple of occasions when a family purchased a meal, but the busyness of the place didn’t allow for a dinner where a courting couple could sit and spend some time gazing into each other’s eyes. John speared his last bite of pancake. Maybe he’d mention it to Ruth. See if they could come up with something. If he wanted his little town to grow, there needed to be more to attract the opposite sex. Too many families left during the war. A place for couples to court would be something he could also bring up with Luke.

  Ruth popped him with a dish towel as she passed. “Wake up; you’re in the way.”

  “Daydreaming, I guess.” He handed her his plate. “Come walk with me.”

  “I’m working.”

  “You’re always working. The dirty dishes aren’t going anywhere. There’re some things I’d like to discuss with you. A business proposition that might benefit us both.”

  She stopped her fussing and hesitated a moment. “Okay. Grandma?”

  Miriam waved a hand covered with suds. “Go on. You can wash up after the dinner meal, but don’t forget we got plans of our own later.”

  Ruth kissed her cheek. “I won’t forget.” She tossed her apron on a hook. “I’m ready.”

  He slapped his hat on and held the back door open to allow Ruth to pass. He offered his arm as they strolled around the house and into the street. “You’re a woman, so—”

 

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