Until September

by Brenda Jernigan

  Looking back, Billy realized that he’d been looking for Claire all his life and he was going to make her his wife as soon as he returned. No more waiting.

  Suddenly, as he rode toward Denver, life seemed perfect.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The minute Doc Susie saw Claire, she ordered her to bed, and that was fine by Claire. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was from the physical strain of traveling.

  Claire slept for two days.

  Upon waking the morning of the third day, she found a big difference in the way she felt when she got up. The mornings were cold and the air dry, making it easier for her to breathe.

  She wrapped a comforter around her and wandered into die big kitchen where Susie was preparing breakfast and Aunt Ute was stacking wood in the potbelly stove.

  “Good morning,” Claire said from the doorway.

  Aunt Ute swung around. “She up.”

  “Good. Now we can talk about your new routine while you’re here,” Susie said. “How do you feel?”

  “Much better,” Claire said with a yawn as she took her seat at the table. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

  “When you’re tired, the disease takes over your body. Now here is what we’re going to do,” Susie said, setting a steaming bowl of hot oatmeal on the table with fresh fruit and cream. As she poured everyone coffee, she said, “We are going to give you a regimen of rest, healthy food, and fresh air, and when you’re stronger we are going to add plenty of exercise.”

  “Do you think this will work?” Claire asked.

  “It has for me. Some doctors like to prescribe a whiskey-cure. They think it stimulates the appetite and is a relaxant. But I disagree. I think it contributes to listlessness and depression. So what we are going to do is walk once a day over to my neighbors and go to Bossy, his milking cow.”

  “Why?” Claire asked as she ate her warm oatmeal.

  “We are going to squirt milk from the cow’s teat directly into a bottle and then we are going to drink the milk right away.”

  “And that helps?”

  “Yes, it does,” Doc Susie assured her.

  “I would like to help you in your practice,” Aunt Ute said.

  “Good. There are times I can use all the help I can get,” Susie said.

  And so the autumn days went by as Claire sat outside in the warm sunshine, sipping her coffee and staring up at the aspen leaves shining like pure gold. It was so much easier to breathe up here. The sweet air seemed to rush bubbles of oxygen into her scarred lungs. And slowly she began regaining the strength she’d lost long ago.

  Every morning she’d go to the calendar to mark off the days until it was the last day in September.

  As she held the pencil in her hand, she realized that she’d been living on the edge, waiting to die. She’d been to so many doctors who’d never been able to help her that she’d really doubted Doc Susie could do anything. It was the last day of September and she was still alive. Now she dared to hope that she would live.

  And of course, Billy was foremost in Claire’s mind. Did he hate her for leaving him? Would he understand when she saw him again and explained? All these questions were running through her mind when she told Doc Susie one night at dinner, “I feel so much better. When will I be able to return to Denver?”

  Susie stopped eating and looked directly at Claire. “I do not advise you going to Denver.” Seeing the surprised look on Claire’s face, Susie reached out and placed her hand over Claire’s. “The climate here in Fraser is beneficial to your recovery. I’ve seen tuberculosis patients leave only to suffer a relapse, and sometimes it was fatal. My advice is to continue with your routine of vigorous exercise, rest, and plenty of fresh warm milk.”

  “But he’ll forget me,” Claire slipped and said. She hadn’t meant her thoughts to come out, but she wanted to see Billy so bad that it hurt

  “Who?” Susie asked.

  Aunt Ute could see how choked up Claire was and answered for her. “Billy West a young man from Denver, asked Claire to marry him. Claire thought she was dying so she left town before he came back, not wanting to burden him with her problems.”

  Susie looked at Claire sympathetically. “No wonder you’ve looked so sad. You could send him a note and let him know where you are.”

  Claire shook her head. “No. I need to do it in person. I left him a note telling him that I didn’t love him, so I’m sure he hates me by now.”

  “That is the sign of true love. You sacrificed yourself for him,” Susie said in a soft voice. “But I can assure you of this, there is a fine line between love and hate. If he loves you, he’ll find you one way or the other.”

  “He must hate me,” Claire said, realizing that there was more than one way to die inside.

  Billy West did hate Claire with every fiber of his being.

  He had returned home, going to the ranch immediately, only to be told that Claire and her aunt had left. So Billy had ridden to Ben’s office, opened the door and demanded an explanation.

  “You were gone a lot longer than expected,” Ben said when Billy slammed into his office.

  “And she couldn’t wait?”

  “Sit down,” Ben instructed.

  “I don’t want to sit down. Where is Claire?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re playing a game with me?” Billy growled. “Where did she go and when is she returning?”

  Ben didn’t answer as he stared at Billy for a moment. Finally he said, “Claire won’t be coming back.”

  Billy felt like he’d been slugged in the stomach as he sank down on the chair in front of Ben’s desk. “Why?” Then Billy remembered what he’d said all along. “It was because I don’t have the money the Holladays do, isn’t it?”

  “No, that isn’t it at all,” Ben said.

  “It sure seems like it to me.”

  Ben opened his desk drawer and pulled out the letter. “Here, she left this for you. Maybe it will explain.”

  Billy took the envelope and tore it open. The script was delicate, just like Claire.

  Dear Billy,

  I so much don’t want to hurt you, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do.

  For reasons that I can’t disclose to you, I’m leaving Denver and will not be returning. Believe me this is for the best.

  Have a good life, Billy West. You deserve the best. Find somebody who loves you and can give you children.

  Claire

  The second time he read the letter, he felt his hopes and dreams crumble around his feet. She hadn’t even said she loved him. Maybe she never had. She left him like everyone else in his life had.

  Something within Billy died as he crumpled the letter and glanced at Ben across the desk. “When do I return to work?”

  “As soon as you want to,” Ben said. “Listen, Billy, I’m sorry that I can’t tell you more, but I promised that I wouldn’t There are things that you don’t know.”

  “I don’t really care, Ben,” Billy said, his voice void of emotion as he got to his feet “Tell Rattlesnake I’ll be ready to ride in the morning.”

  Ben watched as Billy left his office. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Billy that Claire loved him very much. But Billy wouldn’t listen to anything now. If only Ben hadn’t made that promise ... but he’d only promised not to tell Billy. What if he told someone else?

  With that idea rumbling in his head, he quickly penned a letter to the one person who could get Billy to listen to reason.

  As he sealed the letter, Ben thought, now with a little luck and a few prayers maybe a miracle could happen. He didn’t even know how Claire was doing. He only knew that if she’d died, someone would have let him know.

  The next two months became a blur to Billy. He worked all the time and took foolish chances, because he didn’t care if he lived or died.

  Rattlesnake had become a nag, fussing at him like an old mother hen. But Billy didn’t care. He’d ceased caring
from the moment he’d read that letter. The one time he’d dared to open his heart to a woman, she’d ripped it to shreds.

  “Do you realize that it’s almost Christmas?” Rattlesnake said as they rolled into Denver.

  “So?” Billy replied.

  “Thought you might be going out to spend some time with your family at The Wagon Wheel. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them.”

  “Nope. Let them enjoy the holidays. I’m not in the mood to celebrate,” Billy said in a voice that Rattlesnake thought sounded pretty much like the boy was dead.

  “Iffen you ask me, you ain’t in the mood for nothing,” Rattlesnake complained.

  “That about sums it up,” Billy said as the stage pulled to a stop.

  “This ain’t any of my business,” Rattlesnake said, “but you need to start living again. Ain’t no woman worth it.”

  Billy glanced up at Rattlesnake. “You’re right. It isn’t any of your business.” Billy went into the stage office and deposited the mailbag and then left.

  He had a room over at the hotel, but he wasn’t quite in the mood to sleep yet. Glancing at the saloon, he thought maybe some good whiskey could numb him a little ... make him forget

  He’d just stepped off the sidewalk when someone called out, “Billy West.”

  Billy turned at the familiar voice to see Heath Holladay strolling up toward him. What was he doing here?

  “What the hell have you done to my sister?” Heath shouted, and gave Billy a good right across the jaw.

  “Done to your sister?” Billy said as he rubbed his jaw. Then he squared up his body with Heath’s. “I’ve been dying to beat the shit out of somebody and you’re as good as any.”

  Billy landed a left into Heath’s middle. Heath grabbed Billy around the middle and down they went swinging and landing punches until they both were too tired to swing again.

  “I’ll give up if you give up,” Heath finally said.

  Billy took a deep breath. “It’s either that or we kill each other.”

  “So how the hell have you been?” Heath asked.

  Billy slowly got to his feet then reached down to help Heath up. “You got a funny way of greeting people.”

  Heath gave Billy a lopsided grin because his lip was so swollen. “Got your attention, didn’t I? Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”

  “I was just headed for the bar,” Billy said. “You throw a mean right, Holladay. I can feel my eye swelling already.”

  They got a table in the corner and ordered a cool wet rag, coffee, and Scotch. After they got their faces cleaned up, Billy spoke before Heath could say anything. “I don’t want to talk about your sister.”

  “Well I do.”

  Billy started to get up, but Heath caught his arm. “Don’t make me have to lay you out again. I’m going to tell you something that you don’t know. After I tell you, if you want to leave then you can.”

  Reluctantly, Billy sat down. “She left me,” he said.

  “I know.” Heath nodded. “And I can imagine how you’re feeling, but she had a good reason to leave.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Billy said. “If that’s the only reason you came here, then you’re wasting your time.”

  “You are mule-headed,” Heath complained, and then he took a sip of his Scotch. He frowned and wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had better.”

  “You’re out West” Billy pointed out the obvious—that things were not as good out here as back East. “Why are you here?”

  “After receiving a letter from Uncle Ben and Aunt Ute, I figured I needed to come out here and straighten some things out”

  “You heard from Ute?”

  “Yes. It was a very informative letter,” Heath told him and then he leaned on the table and met Billy’s eyes square on. “Claire is dying.”

  Billy gripped the table. He was so choked up, he reached for the remainder of Heath’s Scotch and gulped it. After he got through coughing, he looked at Heath through watery eyes. “Why?”

  Heath sat back and smiled. “Well, at least I know you love her. Let me start at the beginning. Claire came to Colorado to die. The doctors back East told her she only had until September to live—”

  “But it’s December,” Billy interrupted.

  “Let me finish.”

  “Tell me she’s alive,” Billy insisted.

  “She’s alive. Now drink your coffee and be quiet. It’s apparent you can’t handle Scotch,” Heath teased him.

  Billy reached for his coffee cup. “Go to hell.”

  “Anyway, Claire wanted to experience things she’d never been able to because of her health. She has had consumption the last few years. We thought it was just a cough and she’d get better, but that wasn’t the case, so we had no choice but to approve her decision to travel out here.

  “Then somehow you managed to worm your way into her affections.” Heath grinned. “Uncle Ben said she was devastated when she left Denver, but her condition had grown worse and she wouldn’t make any kind of commitment to you knowing that she was going to die.” Heath stopped to order another drink.

  Billy felt like a complete jerk. Her coughing had been so much worse than she’d let on. And the whole time he’d been blaming her for leaving him because he wasn’t good enough. Then he remembered something she’d said. Some of us don’t have tomorrows. Billy’s jaw tightened. She had done everything because of him. But how was she feeling now?

  “I would have stood by her,” Billy said.

  “Yes but there were others who didn’t,” Heath told him. “When she told her fiancé, he broke the engagement, wanting nothing more to do with her.”

  “He was a jerk anyway,” Billy said, now wishing he’d punched out the bastard.

  “Well, the other reason Claire left was that she’d heard of a doctor that might be able to help her. So she went to the doctor who Aunt Ute said has practically cured Claire.”

  “Where is she? And why didn’t Ben tell me?”

  “Claire, still thinking that she was going to die the end of September, wouldn’t let him,” Heath paused to finish his drink. “The last letter we had from Aunt Ute said that Claire had built her own house and was starting to buy horses. She said that the doctor warned her that she couldn’t leave Fraser and come to Denver for fear that she’d have a setback. But Aunt Ute said she still speaks of you with longing, and Ute kind of thought that you’d make a good Christmas present for Claire ... that is if you still care.”

  Billy had to take a couple of sips of hot coffee before he could speak. “When do we leave?”

  “How about in the morning?”

  “I’ll be there,” Billy said. “Now tell me why you were the one who came out here?”

  “Because I was the only one who could beat some sense in you just in case you proved to be stubborn, which of course you were.” Heath tried to smile but his lip was too swollen.

  “Thanks, Heath,” Billy said, then decided the mood needed to be lightened. “You and I both make a sorry sight. Your lip is swollen and my eye is almost shut tight.”

  Heath stood and threw some coins on the table.

  “Guess nobody will mess with us on the train.”

  Claire got up and walked to the window. She took the end of her gown and wiped the frost from the windowpane. They had had fresh snow. What a beautiful Christmas they would have.

  She moved over to the fireplace and tossed two more logs on the fire then poked at it until the red-hot coals came to life.

  Today was Christmas Eve. Henry, the neighboring farmer, had helped get her tree into a bucket and placed it in front of her big window that overlooked the mountains. Now all she had to do was decorate it. Aunt Ute and Doc Susie were going to come over and help her string popcorn and cranberries. Aunt Ute said she’d make some gingerbread men for the tree.

  So Claire’s afternoon would be full, but today she just couldn’t shake this empty feeling she had inside. She’d managed not to think about Billy during the last month, but she wo
ndered how he was doing. Did he ever think of her?

  How she’d love to take the train to see him, but this time of year sometimes the trains couldn’t get through. Well, she might as well get her mind on other things. If she thought of Billy much more, she’d start crying.

  As she dressed and went to get a bottle for her warm milk, she did promise to write her family and Ann and tell them she was alive and well. Then maybe they could come and visit during the summer. She also wanted to ask Ann if she still had a job because there were several stories up here just waiting to be told. Especially about the famous doctor who’d made a difference in everyone’s life. A lot of the children in Fraser would be dead if it wasn’t for Doc Susie.

  No matter what happened, Claire vowed that she wouldn’t be sad today. She was alive—something she didn’t think was possible a few months ago. And she would be thankful to Doc Susie forever.

  A blizzard howled outside as the train crept over the trestles. Billy and Heath both thought they were in purgatory. .. only it was cold instead of hot

  The potbelly stove in the railcar had been stoked full of wood, yet it barely kept the chill out of the car.

  Finally, the train pulled to a stop. Crosby, the conductor, marched through the railcar shouting, “Corona! Passengers may leave the train until further notice.”

  Billy stopped the conductor. “We don’t want to get off. We want to keep going.”

  “We can’t,” Crosby said. “We have to wait for the rotary snowplow to clear a path for us, and there is no water in the Corona tank.”

  “What does that mean?” Heath asked.

  “Well, we’re all right. We have water for the boiler, but if the snowplow breaks down... we don’t have spit to fill it up. If we don’t make it, we’ll have to back her up clear to Yankee Doodle.”

  “Let’s pray that it doesn’t,” Billy said. “Is there any more wood for the stove?”