by Angel’s End
“Don’t leave me.”
He smiled at her. But his eyes were still sad. “Get some rest.”
TWENTY
Ward looked up from the table as the door opened with a blast of cold air. He was surprised to see Jim Martin walk through the door. It wasn’t because Jim was against drinking; it was just usually an issue of time. Between the livery and six kids underfoot, the man had little time for anything beyond work and sleep. What was stranger was the fact that it was so late at night when Jim stepped through the door.
“Any news?” Jake asked.
“Not unless you count coyotes as news,” Jim replied. He nodded when Ward waved the whiskey bottle in his direction. Ward poured him a shot. Jim took off his coat and hung it on the back of the chair before he joined the men at the table. “I found one snooping around the edge of the corral. I didn’t have my gun with me or I’d have taken a shot at it.”
“Everything’s gone to ground with the cold,” Jake said. “How’s Banks?”
“He’s all right,” Jim said. “He’s been too busy playing to miss his mom, although he did ask about her when he went to bed.”
“Has Gretchen been back?”
“She took some food up. Leah was asleep and the preacher was out back. She didn’t hang around.”
“I don’t blame her,” Ward said. The sight of the dead bodies and the smell from the fire was still fresh in his mind.
“She said it looked like he was doing a good job taking care of her, although the kitchen was a bit of a mess. Leah was clean.”
Ward watched Jake. As he expected the man flushed at the thought of the preacher keeping Leah clean.
“We’ll look in on them in the morning,” Jim added, and Jake nodded. Jim took a sip of his whiskey. “So what do you think of him?”
“You haven’t talked to him?” Jake asked.
“The one time I tried he was asleep. I know Bettina has but all she can think about is when she can get Margy down there. I think she wants the woman out of her house more than she wants to fix her up with the preacher.”
“You talked to him,” Ward reminded Jake. “What did you come away with? He must have said something to impress you, or else you wouldn’t have left Leah there with him, even if he is immune to the measles.”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something about him. He’s not what I expected for a minister but when he said he’d take care of Leah, I couldn’t help but believe that he would, to the best of his ability.”
Ward looked down at Lady, who’d quickly taken to his schedule. She lay on the floor by his chair with her head turned toward the door so she could see whoever came in. He rubbed the top of her head. Dang if he hadn’t gotten attached to her real quick. “You know what I think?”
The other two looked at him expectantly. “Dodger seems to like him, and you know how protective he is of Leah and Banks. If Dodger has no problem with him, then he must be all right.”
“I think I’ll reserve judgment until I hear him preach a sermon,” Jake said.
“Well since we know the chances of me setting foot inside the church to hear him are slim, I’ll just have to go along with Dodger,” Ward replied.
It was like fighting a losing battle, but so was everything else he put his mind to. And he approached it with the same stubborn tenacity that had kept him alive so far. Cade spent what seemed like hours cooling Leah down and then she’d get hot again. Her fever was sneaky, waiting until the few moments that he walked away to attack again. As long as he kept after her with the snow, wiping and cooling her skin, she was fine. But as soon as he stopped, because he was afraid of giving her frostbite, it would shoot back up, crawling higher and higher each time, until he was afraid she would burst into flames when he touched her skin.
“Come on now, Leah.” Cade sat in the chair by the bed and wiped her face with snow. “You’re stubborn. You’ve got to fight this.”
She muttered something, but he couldn’t understand the words. She was lost in a dream with ghosts from her past. Still, she was talking and Cade took it as a good sign, so he kept on.
“I thought you were an angel the first time I saw you. I reckon I had you mixed up with that dang statue sitting out in the middle of the street.”
She shook her head, jerking it back and forth on the pillow, as if she were arguing with someone. Dodger put his paws on the edge of the bed and rose up to look at Leah. Cade rubbed his head, and the dog whined before he lay down on the floor beside his chair.
“It makes sense when you think about it. You’re a lot like that stone angel, standing there with its arms all stretched out, ready to welcome everyone into the fold.” He started on her arms again, wiping the length of them, and each delicate finger. “You took me in and saved my life.” Cade laughed. “Of course, if you’d known who I really was, you probably would have left me out in that blizzard to die.”
He bathed her neck, pushing her hair out of the way as he did so. “But here’s the thing. I believe in angels. It’s not that I’ve come across that many of them, but I know they’re out there. They have to be, because there are so many demons around. If you’ve got demons then there have to be angels. It’s the only way to keep balance. There’s winter and there’s summer, there’s spring and there’s fall. We’ve got the desert and the forests, the plains and the mountains, the land and the sea. There’s good and there’s bad and there are angels and demons. In case you didn’t realize it, I’m kind of an authority on demons. I reckon I’ve spent enough time with a bunch of them.”
Leah tossed her head and muttered again.
“It’s funny you know.” Cade talked to her as he’d never dared talk to anyone before. “I never really thought about it much. I just thought that this…my life…was the way it was. That there could never be anything different. But now…” He pushed her hair back from her brow. “Now I wish for things I never knew existed.”
Leah turned her face into his hand and sighed.
“A very wise man told me we have no way of knowing where God’s path will lead us. God only knows that I’ve had no purpose in my path. I can’t help but wonder if I was supposed to wind up here. I can’t imagine why. I can’t imagine how my being here can be of any use to anyone, unless it’s just because I’m able to take care of you while you’re sick.”
He had not realized his ramblings would turn into such introspection. He only thought to keep her focused. To keep her from slipping away. “It surely wasn’t of any use to Timothy.”
Leah mumbled again. Cade bent closer to the bed. “Prayers…” she sighed.
Cade shook his head. “God doesn’t want my prayers,” he said.
“No, no, no…” She was out of her head with the fever and he was a fool to ramble on the way he had. Cade stood and stretched from the long hours he’d spent in the chair. He needed to clear his head of the nonsense he’d dredged up from deep inside. He’d spoken of things he’d never given voice to before. Things he should never voice.
He felt so helpless against Leah’s fever. Admitting it was frightening, especially since with it came the realization that he now knew what it had been like for his father. He’d been unable to stop the horrific murder of his wife and daughter. He’d blamed himself for their deaths and his guilt had been so strong, he could no longer care for his sons. And what about Leah? Had she felt the same hopelessness when they carried her husband in, and she had to watch him die?
Cade went out back. The creaking of the door shutting behind him startled something beside the shed. He heard the rustle of Leah’s chickens and their panicked clucks. He saw a coyote racing across the snow toward the stream. The pickings must be slim for one to come so close to town. He’d better make sure his gun was handy next time. Just in case.
The sky to the east, over the mountains, was streaked with pale grays, pinks and purples that announced the coming of dawn. Another night gone, another day closer to someone discovering his deception. Was it worth it? Only time would te
ll.
The cold was vicious and intense. Maybe he should bring Leah outside and pack her in snow. No…that would be too much. It was so cold that he shivered, he who usually ignored it. It would kill her and that he would not allow.
He heard the click of Dodger’s toenails on the wood floor and his scratch at the door. He let him out. The dog whined and nudged Cade’s hand with his nose. “Go on,” he said, thinking the dog just needed to go. Dodger didn’t move, instead he gave Cade another nudge.
“Leah?” Cade returned to his room. She lay still, very still, where before she’d been fretful. Cade touched her forehead. She was burning up, hotter than ever. What should he do? What else could he do?
“LEAH?” Cade shook her. She didn’t move. Cade dropped to his knees by the bed and laid his head on her breast, with his ear over her heart. Her breathing was shallow and he could hear the flutter of her heart in her chest. It was going too fast as it tried its best to fight the fever which held her in its grip.
She’s dying…
“Please God…not this.”
Timothy’s Bible still lay on the table beside the bed. Cade picked it up and flipped the pages to Hebrews. He knew exactly where to find it. His father taught him to recite the books of the Bible soon after he learned his ABCs. He trailed his finger down the pages, skimming until a verse caught his eye.
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
“That we may receive mercy…” Could he receive mercy? Was it possible? If he asked, could it be given to Leah? She was so very still, so very quiet, so very lost in her battle.
Cade folded his hands and dropped his forehead to rest on them. He sighed deeply, searching inside for the words to begin.
“God I haven’t asked you for anything in years. But I’m asking you now, Lord…no, I’m begging you. Don’t take this woman. She’s good and she’s kind, and she saved my life when I didn’t deserve it.” He wiped his forehead across his folded hands, to press his mind for the correct words, words that would convey the need right before him.
“She’s got a boy. A boy that she loves with her whole life. A boy that needs her. A boy shouldn’t lose his mother…” Cade spoke from experience. He could easily say his life fell apart when his father took them west, but he knew it was the horrid death of his mother that destroyed them all.
“If you let her live, God, I’ll go on my way. I’ll leave and never look back, even though there’s nothing I want more than to stay here and try to build some sort of life. I think with Leah in my life I could be good. I could do something besides waste my life and the time you’ve given me.”
He took a deep breath. What else could he say? What else could he offer in trade for her life? “Lord, I know I’m not worth saving, but Leah is. I’ll never ask for anything else for the rest of my life. Please Lord, just let her live.” Cade dropped his head to the bed and took Leah’s hand in his. It was so hot and felt so frail. “Please Lord, just let her live…”
Exhaustion finally overtook him and Cade dozed, still gripping Leah’s hand as he was caught in that half world between dreams and reality. Something finally awakened him and he realized it was the bed shaking that brought him back. He looked up to find Leah shivering violently.
“Please…I’m so co-co-cold.” Her teeth chattered so hard that he thought they might break. “Hel-help me.”
Cade wrapped the blankets around her and scooped her out of the bed.
“Wha-what arrre you doing?”
“Taking you someplace warm,” he explained. He’d let the fires die down overnight to help cool her fever. Cade took her into the parlor and laid her on the sofa. Leah clutched weakly at the blankets as she shook so hard that she nearly slid into the floor. Cade threw kindling into the fireplace, and then stacked log after log onto the fire as it flared to life. When the heat rolled forth, he picked her up again. With one foot he scooted the rocking chair around until it faced the hearth then he sat down and bundled Leah onto his lap.
She huddled against him. Her arms curled against her breasts as she continued to shake. “What’s wr-wrong with m-me?”
Cade pulled the blankets up tighter around her. Tucked the corners in. Folded her into his arms and placed her head up under his chin. “Don’t worry, it’s a good thing,” he said. “The shaking is your body’s way of staying warm.”
Dodger padded into the parlor and sat down on the rug beside the chair. Ashes peeped up from the mending basket where she’d been sleeping and squeaked out a yawn. Cade pushed at the hearth with his feet and the chair rocked gently back and forth. The fire popped and cracked and the bird popped out of the clock in the hall and chimed the hour. Eventually the shaking subsided, until Cade, with Leah still safely on his lap, leaned forward and tossed another log on the fire.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“Two days.”
“It feels like forever.”
Cade rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “Yes it does.”
“And you’ve taken care of me all this time?”
“It’s the same you did for me.”
“Thank you Cade,” she said, and sighed.
Even though every one of his instincts told him to let go, to run, to leave town this very minute, Cade continued to rock the chair and held her even tighter against him.
TWENTY-ONE
“When did you have the measles?” Leah finally felt warm. She felt safe. She was exhausted, yet she felt content. She didn’t want to move from her place in his arms so she watched the fire as the flames licked at the logs and pressed her head against his chest with the rumble of his words.
“When I was a boy. I was seven.”
“Tell me about it.”
Cade tilted his head to look down at her. He looked tired and worn, but a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “You really want to know?”
She smiled back. “I really want to know.”
“We were living with the Cheyenne.”
“The Cheyenne? Why?”
“My father was a minister. And according to my father, God wanted him to minister to the Cheyenne. They were his chosen flock as he called it. He took our family west when I was six. Soon after we arrived at the village, there was a measles outbreak. My brother and I both got sick, and my mother nursed us inside of a hide tent, as we were living as they lived. She’d had the measles when she was a girl, so she was immune like I am now.” He shook his head at the memory. “We had to sleep on pallets. I remember hating it, as the ground was cold and hard and I ached all over. The entire time I wished that I was back at home and in my bed.”
Leah listened with fascination to the way his voice rumbled deep inside his chest as he spoke. His hold on her felt so solid, so strong and so comforting. She had no desire to move. She wanted to stay this way, safe and secure, until sleep overtook her once more, yet she felt sorry for the boy he must have been, far away from home, living with strangers and so very sick. It must have been horrible for his mother to be in a strange place and worried over the lives of her children. She wanted to know more. This glimpse into his childhood was unexpected and seemed so private.
“It must have been frightening for your mother.”
Cade suddenly went quiet and Leah turned from her perusal of the fire to look at his face. He must not have taken the time to shave in the past few days, not since she did it for him that night that seemed like ages ago. The dark stubble of his beard trailed down beneath his chin to the soft and smooth skin on his lower neck where his breastbone lay. The indentation above seemed very vulnerable when he swallowed.
“If she was frightened, she never showed it,” he finally said. “I just remember her singing to us. Smiling a lot and telling us everything would be all right.”
“She sounds like a very good mother.” She wanted her to be, just as she wanted to be. She wanted Banks to look back when he was grown and know that even though
they didn’t have much, he was loved and cared for. She hoped that Cade had the same memories of his mother.
She wanted the sadness to be gone from his eyes.
“She was.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died during the massacre at Sand Creek.” His voice did not change in timbre when he spoke and she looked up to see his eyes were focused on the fire as if he were far, far away.
Leah swallowed her gasp of shock. She watched his face carefully. “Were you there?”
He stared into the fire and the rocking of the chair was steady. “Yes. I was. I saw it happen. The soldiers raped her and then stabbed her with their bayonets. They bashed my baby sister’s head in with their rifle butts. My father held me back because I tried to run to her. He wouldn’t let me save her.”
“You were just a boy. How could you save her?”
His eyes, so sad, darted down to her face, then quickly moved back to the fire. Did he see her death once more? “I could have made them realize she was white. Her hair was light brown, not black. It was a bit darker than yours. Her eyes were blue. How could they not see that she wasn’t Cheyenne? Not that it should make a difference. She was a woman. They shouldn’t have hurt her, no matter what tribe she belonged to.”
“I’m so sorry…”
He stopped rocking abruptly and looked down at her. His dark eyes searched her face. Was that why he was so sad? Because he’d seen his mother murdered? And even though he’d seen such a bad thing happen, he’d still gone on to be a minister, like his father. It spoke volumes about his heart.
And he’d nursed her. Taken care of her in her time of need. Where would she be if he hadn’t been here? Would someone else have taken such good care of her? She gave him a tremulous smile.
“You’re the first person who’s ever said that,” he remarked.