by Bonnie Leon
Woodman stood in the entryway, his face creased with concern, his black eyes pained.
Callie came down the stairs and walked into the parlor. Leaning against the door frame, she studied Rebecca, then said, “Mr. Thornton’s a stubborn man. He decided ta go after ya. Ya didn’t make ’im chase ya down or go after them horses. It was his choice.”
“Listen to ’er,” Woodman said. “She’s roight. Ya’ll drive yerself crazy if ya take on burdens that don’t belong ta ya.”
Rebecca took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “I’ll do my best to remember that.”
It seemed a long while before Daniel and Willa followed the doctor downstairs. Willa sat in an overstuffed chair, and Daniel stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder.
The doctor swiped thinning hair back, then rested troubled eyes on Willa. “It doesn’t look good.” Nudging round wire-rimmed glasses farther up onto his nose, he continued, “The head injury is pretty serious, but it will heal. He’s got a couple of broken ribs. They’re going to cause him a great bit of pain, but they’ll heal as well. It’s his back I’m most concerned about. There’s swelling there, and he’s got a monster of a bruise. And since he can’t feel anything from his waist down, I fear he’s broken his back.”
“Oh no,” Willa said, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth.
The doctor looked from Willa to Daniel, then back to Willa. “He’s strong. If he makes it through the next couple of days, he might recover.”
Willa looked pale. She sat quiet and placid, but the spark hadn’t gone out of her eyes. “All right, then. I’ll just go on up and see to him. He’ll need someone with him.”
“Now, Willa, I don’t want you wearing yourself out.” The doctor eyed Daniel. “You make certain she takes care of herself, lad.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Someone must stay with Bertram at all times. He can’t be left alone. Right now there’s nothing he can do for himself.” He took a step toward the door, then stopped. “If the feeling comes back into his legs, don’t let him out of bed. Send for me right away.” He offered a kindly smile and continued toward the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said before stepping outside.
“I’ll help care for him,” Rebecca offered.
Daniel frowned. “He won’t take kindly to that.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Through the night it felt as if the house itself were holding its breath. Bertram endured until the morning light. And throughout that day and the next three, he managed to hang on to life. After that his strength waned, his will weakened. He even stopped snapping at Rebecca.
Neighbors and friends came to visit, but Bertram wouldn’t see anyone. Once Rebecca caught sight of Meghan with Daniel. Jealousy flared. Then, remembering that her marriage was over, she told herself, I’ve no right to worry about those two. I’ll be leaving, and Daniel will begin a new life.
Cambria stopped in and chatted with Rebecca. She apologized profusely for not coming sooner, explaining that her father had forbidden her to visit.
But even her apologies and her pleasant chitchat did little to lift Rebecca’s spirits.
On the sixth day Bertram seemed to perk up. He tried to eat and went back to ordering Rebecca and Daniel about. The doctor explained that even if Bertram survived, he would probably never walk again or regain full use of his arms and hands.
While the household staff, Willa, and Rebecca looked after Bertram, Daniel put his energies into running the station. By all accounts, he did a grand job. The days were full, and Rebecca and Daniel found no time to discuss what had happened or what lay ahead.
One day while standing at the window in Bertram’s room, Rebecca wondered what life would hold for her now. She held out little hope for anything grand. She would return to the States and become a teacher. It’s what she should have done in the beginning rather than foolishly running off to Australia in search of a romantic adventure.
She gazed outside, seeking some sort of solace, but the empty land offered her little. She turned and looked at the man sleeping in the bed. Bertram was a shadow of who he’d once been. He was thin, and the color had gone from his sunken face. He was weary and beaten, and his life seemed to be fading.
In the weeks since the accident, Rebecca had changed too. She felt wrenching heartache as she studied her father-in-law. Hatred and fear had been transformed, and what had started as an obligation had become a mission of devotion. If only he would live.
Rebecca realized she loved him. When and how the transformation had occurred she didn’t know, but it definitely had. And Rebecca was certain it had nothing to do with her will. It was a gift from God. There was no other reasonable explanation. Since his accident Bertram had become more cross with her than he’d been before, and he scolded her relentlessly. She refused to counter the darts he hurled, understanding that Bertram’s bristles came from fear and regret. He knew his life would never be restored to what it had once been. Rebecca was certain he’d have preferred death to dependence.
How frightening life can be, she thought. We never know what is to come. This might be exactly what Bertram needed. Lord, reveal your grace and mercy to him.
“What ya staring at?” Bertram bellowed.
Rebecca was startled. “Oh, was I staring? I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”
“I need something to drink.” He struggled to push himself up on one elbow. “What were ya thinking ’bout?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Were ya trying to figure how to do me in? I’m an easy target.” He chuckled sardonically.
“What a terrible thing to say.” She eyed him with a half smile. “I was thinking about you.” She filled a glass with water and held it to his lips.
He sipped, then fell back against his pillows. “And what were ya thinking? Couldn’t be good.”
“In truth? I was thinking about how much I’ve grown to love you.”
A light flickered in his eyes, but his voice was gruff as he said, “Love me? I don’t want yer affection. I can’t stand the sight of ya. Ya deceived my son, and ya’ll take his life too.”
“I didn’t deceive him. You know that.”
“I know no such thing. I wish my son could see the truth.”
“If you’re worried about Daniel, you have no need. And I’ll be leaving just as soon as you’re well.”
“Don’t let me stop ya.”
Rebecca shook her head. “You can bellow all you want. It won’t change anything.” Inwardly Rebecca marveled at her calm. It must be God.
“Ya feel sorry for me, that’s what it is. Well, don’t. I’ll get up out of this bed. Ya’ll see.”
“I feel badly about what’s happened to you, but I don’t feel sorry for you, Mr. Thornton. God has a plan.”
She really did love this cantankerous old man. How marvelous to be able to love without requiring love in return. She’d never truly experienced what it meant to love an enemy.
“This is no plan—it’s simply yer doing. I’ll die in this bed because of ya.”
Rebecca winced inwardly. “I am sorry, but . . . you played a part in this too. I know that what you’re experiencing must be excruciating, but we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose. You do believe that, don’t you? They’re God’s words.”
Bertram glowered but said not a word.
26
Bertram groaned, then with trembling arms pulled the sheet down to his waist. “I can’t abide this any longer.”
“What can’t you abide?” Rebecca asked.
“Just lyin’ here—day in and day out. It’s been weeks. I’ve got a station to run.”
“Daniel’s handling it very well. You’ve no need to worry about that.”
“Can ya get Willa? My back aches and I need a rub.”
“She’s taking a well-deserved nap. I’ll do it for you.”
“Ya don’t do it right.”
“That may be so, but I�
��m all you have right now.”
“I’d say yer a bit free with that mouth of yers, young lady.”
“And I’d say if you continue to give me trouble, I can walk right out of here.”
Bertram clamped his mouth shut and stared at the ceiling.
Rebecca moved to the bed stand and picked up a bottle of liniment.
“Roll onto your side. I’ll help you.” She pressed her hand against his back and pushed while Bertram pulled with his weakened arms.
“I pray the Lord will take me home. I don’t want to live like this.”
“What would Willa do without you? And the rest of us?” The pungent pine scent of the liniment burned Rebecca’s nose.
“No one cares, except Willa.” He closed his eyes as Rebecca massaged his sore muscles. “She’s a right lovely jewel. And doesn’t deserve this.” He smiled slightly. “I remember the day we met. She was in the garden with ’er mum. I knew the moment I saw ’er she was for me. She was a beaut, all right.”
“She loves you still. I’d like to see you get well, at least for her.” Rebecca pressed the palms of her hands against his upper back. “God makes the decisions about life and death. You don’t know yet what plans he has for you.”
“I’d say he’s pretty much done with me.”
Rebecca worked the liniment into his shoulders. She could feel Bertram relax beneath her touch.
“That stuff draws the flies, ya know.”
“I’ll make sure to pull down the mosquito netting.” Rebecca continued rubbing. Soon Bertram’s breathing was deep and steady. He was asleep.
Daniel stepped into the room. He offered Rebecca a smile, then asked in a whisper, “He sleeping?”
She nodded.
“Thanks for taking such good care of him.” His eyes held hers. “I’ll see you at supper?”
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
Daniel walked out. Rebecca wished he’d stay, but he never did. These days neither of them said much to the other. However, Daniel’s hard shell had softened. His tone was softer, and now and then he even smiled or tossed out a laugh.
What is he thinking? Rebecca wondered. She hoped he’d forgiven her for the accident. And there was the matter of Jim. Daniel still believed she’d been unfaithful. In truth, it mattered little what he thought. They couldn’t find their way to each other now. Too much had happened.
Daniel might put on a front, but he would never completely believe her innocence. He’d always see her as an adulteress. And she could never forgive him for that.
Willa walked into the bedroom. She dabbed at her neck and forehead with a handkerchief. “I dare say, it’s terribly hot. And summer hasn’t actually arrived yet. I’m not much for this heat.”
“Did you get a nap?”
“Just a bit of one.” Willa looked at Bertram. “I feel just awful watching him swelter in that bed. When he wakes up I’ll wash him down with cool cloths.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” Rebecca smiled at Willa. “He told me about your first meeting. He said he was smitten immediately. I wish Daniel and I . . .” There was no use in wishing. She compressed her lips and blinked back tears.
“It will work out for the two of you. You must have faith.”
“I don’t think any amount of faith can help us.” Rebecca rearranged the netting about the bed, then walked to the window and opened it completely. “I wish a breeze would come up.”
Willa sat on the chair beside her husband’s bed and stroked his hand. “He was such a fine man.”
“Was?”
“Did I say that?” Willa sniffed. “He’s still wonderful, but the years have changed him a bit. And now . . .” Willa stopped. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Now I can’t bear to see him like this. To him it’s worse than death.”
“God will do what’s best,” Rebecca said. “We must trust him.”
Willa lifted weary eyes to Rebecca. “You’re such a dear. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You don’t hold me in reproach in any way?”
“Indeed not. I love Bertram, but I know him well. He was in a rage when he went after you. He behaved recklessly. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
Rebecca looked at Bertram. “I wish I’d never left that morning.”
“Perhaps God has a plan and this is all part of it.”
“Perhaps.” Rebecca rested a hand on Willa’s shoulder. “I worry about you. You’re spending too much time cooped up in this room.”
“Where else am I to be except at my husband’s side?”
“Why don’t we have Callie come in and stay with him while we have a cuppa on the veranda.”
“That’s a lovely idea.”
“This is much nicer,” Rebecca said, stretching out her legs and wiggling bare toes. “Is being barefoot on a veranda in Queensland improper?” She chuckled.
“Indeed it isn’t. You may do whatever you wish on your own veranda.”
“It feels good.”
“There is independence for those who seize it.” Willa settled understanding eyes on Rebecca. “I believe you can do that.”
“I’d like to think so. But you’re the one who’s been brave and who has worked so hard to build a life here.” Rebecca dunked a biscuit into her tea and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully. “I feel discourteous asking this question.” She hesitated.
“Please, go right ahead.”
“How is it that you’ve allowed Bertram to rule over you as he does?”
Willa set her tea aside, then folded her hands in her lap. “It was something I decided upon many years ago. I accept the Bible as being literal. And in the matter of a woman’s place, my role is clear. I’ve prayed and trusted that the quietness and peace offered by God would be seen in me. In this wild and rough place, where would Bertram see such qualities if not in his wife?
“God has honored my prayer. He’s given me peace that only he can give. My mission in life has been to my husband.” She grinned. “As you can imagine, it hasn’t always been easy. Bertram can be inflexible. But he’s always treated me with absolute devotion and respect, and the love we felt for each other in the beginning has grown stronger.
“I must say, however, the course I chose is not necessarily the only way for a woman to be a helpmate to her husband. It’s the path God chose for Bertram and me. You and Daniel must find your own way.” She glanced at Rebecca’s stomach. “You and Daniel, and your child.”
“I’m afraid its heritage is in doubt.”
“I have no doubts.”
“Thank you, Willa, for your faith in me.” Rebecca rested a hand on her abdomen. “When the baby moves I sometimes lose my breath at the wonder of it.”
Willa’s eyes warmed. “Indeed. I remember.” She picked up her cup and took a drink of tea. “I wish you could have met Elton. He was rather like you—his own person and something of a rebel. But . . . wonderful.” Her words became a whisper, and she choked back tears. “I pray it’s not time for Bertram to join him. It would be too much to lose both of them.” She took a handkerchief out of her dress pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “Bertram always regretted the estrangement, but he’s stubborn.”
She cleared her throat and looked directly at Rebecca. “Enough of that. There’s something I wanted to speak to you about—you and Daniel. Am I correct in assuming you haven’t reconciled?”
“We haven’t, and I see little hope that we will. Daniel seems less angry, but he still believes the lie. How can I forgive him?” Rebecca watched a bee hover about a red rose. “And there’s this business with Mr. Thornton, which seems to have no resolution. I’ve grown to love him, but it’s clear that if he had his way he’d never lay eyes on me again.”
“So you’re still planning to leave us?”
“Yes. As soon as Mr. Thornton is well enough.”
“Please reconsider. God has the power to put things right. Daniel loves you, but it’s hard for a lad . . .”
“He’s not a la
d.”
“No, not to you, but to his father he is . . . and will always be.” Willa let her gaze drift over the garden. “It’s difficult to stand up to Bertram.”
“I know. But that doesn’t eliminate Daniel’s responsibility. I can’t live here with the present situation.”
“Daniel has done better recently.”
“For a day or so, yes, and then he steps back into his role as son but not husband.”
Silence settled over the two women.
Rebecca caressed her rounded abdomen. “I’ll have to leave soon. It won’t be long before I’ll be big as a barn and won’t be able to travel.”
Sadness touched Willa’s eyes. “I will truly miss you. I can’t imagine Douloo without you.”
“I’ll miss you too. But I never really belonged here. We both know that.”
“Do we?”
Rebecca set her cup on the table. “I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll lie down.” She stood. “I’ll sit with Mr. Thornton during supper and stay until you come up.”
“That will be fine.” Willa stood. “Rebecca, I must say that I don’t believe this thing between you and Daniel can’t be sorted out. God is the healer of all wounds.” Her eyes held a hint of mischief. “If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re the one who reminded me of that.”
Rebecca didn’t know how to reply. She knew God could do anything. In fact, she’d seen his healing touch most recently in her change of heart toward Bertram. But the hurt over Daniel went much deeper. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “But there are some offenses that can’t be forgiven.”
“Do not limit God. He’s greater than we can comprehend.”
“He’s in a foul mood,” Callie said when Rebecca walked into the room with Bertram’s dinner tray.
“We’ll be fine. I’ve brought his favorite meal.” She winked at Callie. “If he won’t cooperate, I’ll eat it myself.”
“May ya fare better than me,” Callie said as she walked out.
“I’m not hungry,” Bertram growled. “I’m tired of the pitiful excuse for food ya bring up ’ere.” Bertram feebly folded his arms over his chest.