Lucy's Quilt

by Joyce Livingston

  “Certainly.” John motioned to Juliette. “Go on ahead, Girl. Light the lamps and put some water on to boil.”

  As much as she hated to leave Stone, she did as she was told. By the time she’d lit the lamps, several of the men were carrying him into the kitchen and placing him on the table. She hurriedly put the water on, then rushed to his side. “Will he be all right?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Doc admitted as he lifted the edge of the bloody shirt from Stone’s shoulder. “He’s a pretty tough fellow.”

  She hurried to check on the water, then rushed back to his side. It frightened her to see Stone lying so still.

  “I could use some clean rags,” Doc was saying.

  “I’ll get them.” Caroline moved quickly from her place on the stairway. “You stay with him, Juliette. He needs you.”

  Juliette nodded toward her sister appreciatively. She wanted to stay by his side. Oh, dear God. I’ve lost one husband already. Not Stone too. Please spare him.

  Stone stirred slightly, opened wide the eye that wasn’t nearly swollen shut from the gash, and stared at the ceiling.

  Doc shook him gently. “Stone, it’s Doc. Can you hear me?”

  No response.

  “Stone, look at me. You’ve been knifed. Do you remember?”

  He gave a slight nod.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and you’re probably feeling quite dizzy, am I right?”

  The eye blinked several times.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  Again the eye blinked, then a feeble voice answered, “Three, Doc. Plus your thumb.”

  Doc laughed. “I’d say he’s going to be all right, just pretty weak for a few days, and we’ll have to watch that wound.”

  Juliette cradled her throat with her hand and muffled a nervous laugh. Stone was going to recover.

  Caroline entered with the rags Doc had requested.

  “You suppose that water is hot by now?” Doc took the rags and began tearing them into strips.

  “Yes, I’ll get it.” Juliette hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a pot of bubbling water, which she placed on the table beside Doc.

  “Thanks. I’ll need some assistance getting this bloody shirt off him. I’ve got to get that wound cleaned up.”

  Both Juliette and her father moved in to help. She tugged on the sleeve while John steadied Stone’s arm and Doc cut the shirt off his shoulder. Although Stone didn’t make a sound, she knew he had to be in terrible pain, being shifted around like that.

  “Take a rag and wash the blood off as close to his wound as you can, Juliette,” Doc ordered as he rummaged through his bag.

  She dipped a rag into the hot water, carefully wrung out the cloth, and tested the temperature before touching it to Stone’s skin. He gave her a slight smile as she leaned over him and began to wipe away the blood. She’d never seen him without a shirt before. Although she’d been sure he would have well-developed muscles from his work as a rancher, she was surprised at the beauty of his physique and the even, golden color of his skin—no doubt from years of working out in the sun. She hadn’t touched a man’s skin like this since she’d lost David. It felt strange. Intimate. And although her father, Doc, and Caroline were in the room, she felt as if the two of them were sharing a private moment. As she gazed on this man of strength, she knew she would be safe living under his roof. He would do whatever was necessary to protect her and her baby, always.

  Juliette grimaced each time the needle entered Stone’s flesh as Doc stitched up the wound. Finally, after applying a thick, dark salve and bandaging the shoulder, Doc closed his bag. “I’ve done all I can do for him. He’ll need to keep that sling on for a few days, and I’d prefer he stay at the hotel tonight. If he’s doing all right, he can go back to his ranch tomorrow afternoon. That work, John?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way. And thanks, Doc. I owe this man my life.”

  “A lot of folks in this town could probably say the same thing.” Doc picked up his bag. “Guess I won’t have to worry about you, Stone. I can see you’re in good hands,” he said with a smile as he gestured toward Juliette. “I know you’re in terrible pain. Have John fix you a toddy. That’ll help.”

  John laughed. “Stone Piper, drink brandy? He won’t touch it.”

  “If he hurts bad enough, he might,” Doc answered with a grin.

  Stone gave a slight flinch. “No, th–thanks. I’ll tough it out.”

  “Suit yourself. That laudanum I gave you should help. I put a bottle on the table.”

  Stone lifted a hand toward Doc. “Isn’t that stuff opium?”

  “Oh, so you know your medicines, do you?”

  Stone wrinkled his nose. “Think I’ll pass on that too. Heard bad things about men having trouble giving that stuff up once they got on it.”

  Doc laughed. “Well, if you need it, it’s there. Good night.”

  John closed the door and walked back to the sofa. “I’ll sit up with him, Daughter. Go on to bed.”

  Juliette scooted closer to the sofa and put a hand on Stone’s good shoulder. “Have you forgotten, Father? Stone is going to be my husband. I’ll take care of him. Go on to bed. You need your sleep. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “But I—”

  “You heard her, John,” Stone inserted with a moan. “Juliette’ll take care of me.”

  John shrugged, waved good night, and headed up the stairs.

  Juliette lowered the lamp and pulled a chair up close beside the sofa. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry about me.”

  “But you must hurt awfully bad. Will you be able to sleep?”

  “I–I could, if I knew you were upstairs sleeping in your bed instead of down here watching over me,” he whispered with effort.

  She scooted her chair even closer. “I have no intention of leaving. I’m staying right beside you. You might need something.”

  “Like what? What could I need?”

  She thought a moment. “Another blanket. Maybe a glass of water.”

  He gave a slight groan as he attempted to shift his position. “Or a soothing hand on my brow?”

  “Even that.”

  He closed his eyes and relaxed a bit. “If I were Andrew, would you sing me a lullaby?”

  “Possibly, if you were having trouble going to sleep.”

  “I’m having trouble.”

  “Well, let me see—” She leaned forward and began to sing very softly. “Sleep little baby, shut your eyes. Morning will come by and by. Angels will guard and care for you. Nobody loves you like I do.”

  “After you sing to him, what do you do?” he asked in barely audible words.

  She stared at the man she knew had to be in dreadful pain as he lay unbelievably still on the sofa. “I cover him and kiss him good night.”

  His breathing settled into a rhythmic pattern, and once again, she was sure he had drifted off.

  “I’m waiting,” he said in a low murmur, “for my kiss.”

  “Thank you, Stone. For everything,” she whispered softly before bending to plant a slight kiss on the cheek of this unselfish man. As she did, she remembered the testimonies she’d heard of his heroism, and she was suddenly overcome by deep emotion and thankful heart. Dove City’s residents thought of him as a hero, and now so did she.

  “You’re my hero too,” she said in a voice so soft she doubted he’d be able to hear it.

  He opened one eye. “Your hero, huh? I kinda like the sound of that.”

  Seven

  Juliette dozed off during the night but woke each time Stone’s breathing grew uneven, he moaned, or he’d shift his position. Although she couldn’t make out the time on the wall clock in the semidarkness of the room, she knew it would soon be dawn.

  Suddenly, Stone grabbed at her wrist and began making sounds like those of a whimpering child. She took his hand in hers and realized he was not awake but dreaming. He mumbled something almost incoheren
tly at first, then the words became clearer. “Lucy, Lucy. I won’t, I won’t. Lucy—”

  Juliette shook him gently, fearing he was having a nightmare about Lucy’s death. “It’s me. Juliette. You’re dreaming.”

  He stopped thrashing about, and his body grew still as his eyes opened wide. “Di–did I say anything?” he whispered as he held tightly to her hand.

  “Nothing I could understand,” she answered, not wanting to upset him. “You’re probably running a fever, that’s all.”

  “You’ve been here at my side all night, haven’t you?”

  She stroked the good side of his forehead gently. “Yes. How are you feeling? How’s the shoulder?”

  He moved slightly. “Uggh. Sore.”

  “Your head looked pretty nasty too. How did that injury happen?”

  Stone cringed as he lowered his shoulder back onto the pillow. “Shot grazed my head after I came out of MacGregor’s cabin.”

  Fear coursed through her veins at the thought. “A shot came that close to your head? Oh, Stone. You could have been killed!”

  “Yes, he could have,” her father added as he came in with a fresh glass of water. “Three times. Once by that shot. The second time by the man who knifed him. Then when that gun went off, it could’ve hit Stone as easily as it did its owner.”

  Amazed, she turned quickly back toward Stone. “What happened to that man?”

  Her father answered for him. “He died.”

  Juliette let out a loud gasp. “I didn’t know. Oh, Stone. I had no idea what you went through. He died? How awful you must feel.”

  “Juliette, that man tried to kill him,” her father inserted quickly in his defense. “It was him or Stone. Stone tried to get the gun away from him, but the man pulled the trigger during their scuffle. There was nothing Stone could do. It wasn’t his fault.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t blaming Stone, I just—”

  Stone clamped his eyes shut and gnawed at his lip. “I didn’t mean for him to die. It just happened. I wish I could’ve prevented it. Maybe captured him instead of—”

  “But you couldn’t,” Father interjected. “I witnessed the whole thing. The man’s death was unavoidable. He pulled the trigger, not you.”

  Stone’s fingers touched the cloth covering his shoulder. “But it happened nonetheless. His blood is on my hands.”

  “That’s not so. Don’t even think it!” John replied sharply. “If it weren’t for you, even more lives would’ve been lost. Ask anyone who was there last night. Ask Zach Nance. Ask MacGregor. Ask me!”

  “They all said you were a hero,” Juliette added proudly. “I heard them.”

  “Don’t feel much like a hero.”

  “Well, you are one.” John placed the glass on the table. “I’m taking over now, Juliette. Go upstairs and get some sleep. Stone is my responsibility now.”

  “No, he’s mine. I’ll take—”

  “Do what your father says, Juliette. Andrew will be waking up before long. You’ll need to be rested. Go on up to bed.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. “Oh, all right, but first I need to check the covering on your wound.” She carefully removed the clean dressing Doc Meeker had placed on his shoulder. It was only slightly damp with blood and the watery substance that had seeped from his wound. The sight of his stitched-up flesh made her light-headed, but she wouldn’t let on.

  “How’s it look?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  She knew he’d never admit to how much pain he was in. “Well, I’m not exactly sure how it should look, but I can tell it needs a clean wrapping. I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me,” he assured her as his fists clenched at his sides.

  Juliette held her breath as she pulled the cloth from the cut, which, in her opinion, was looking quite nasty. She dabbed the area around the wound with a dampened cloth, wiping it as clean as possible without removing the salve or hurting him, then applied a fresh one. “There, that should hold until Doc Meeker comes by. I’m sure he’ll do a much better job.” She straightened the comforter and tucked it around his body.

  “But he’s not as pretty as you are,” he said, flinching and letting out his breath. “Thanks. Now do as your father says. Get some sleep.”

  “Well, if you’re sure—”

  “I’m sure.” He reached out a hand and touched hers. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night without you. Thanks.”

  Juliette felt herself blushing. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You were here. That’s what counts.”

  She patted his good shoulder, kissed her father’s cheek, and headed up the stairs with a backward glance toward the sofa. Yes, he’s going to make a fine husband.

  ❧

  Stone shifted his position with a groan and turned toward John. “You never told me about Mary, other than she was getting better.”

  “I’ll be bringing her back home soon, I hope,” John said with a slight smile curling at his lips. “Maybe in another couple weeks. If she continues to improve, she’ll be home in plenty of time for your wedding.”

  Stone smiled back. “Oh, so you’ve heard.”

  “I heard. Juliette told me all about it. The last things I expected to be told when I came home were that the bill of sale for the hotel had my name on it and that my daughter was making wedding plans. How can I ever thank you?”

  “You just did. Besides, I’m getting a wife out of this deal.”

  John’s smile disappeared, and his face became somber. “You shouldn’t have done it. You know she doesn’t love you—not like a woman should love the man she intends to marry.”

  “I know,” Stone conceded with a sigh. “She’s a fine woman, but I don’t love her either. Never will—not in that way. I promised Lucy I’d never love another woman, and I intend to keep my promise.”

  “So—you won’t—ah—”

  Stone smiled. “No, I won’t consummate the marriage. You don’t have to worry about that. Juliette and I have an agreement. We understand each other. We’re going to get along just fine. I promise you, John; I’ll take care of her and that son of hers as if they were my own.”

  “You still gonna be my friend now that I’m gonna be your father-in-law?”

  “Of course,” Stone assured him. “Just don’t go pushing me around.”

  “I have one question: She’d made it perfectly clear she was not going to marry you. How’d you get her to go through with it?”

  Stone grinned. “I didn’t. She asked me to marry her.”

  ❧

  Stone was wide-awake, propped up on a pillow against the arm of the sofa, when Juliette and Andrew came down the stairs about nine. “Well, there’s my little man,” he said when he saw Andrew cuddled in her arms. “You didn’t keep your mother awake, did you?”

  Juliette handed the baby to her father and hurried to Stone’s side. “Did you make it through the rest of the night all right?”

  “Even without the brandy,” her father said with a chuckle. “Although I know he was in more pain than he’d let on. This is one tough man.”

  Despite Stone’s objection, she pulled back the bandage from his shoulder with a gasp. “It’s still bleeding a bit. You’d better let me put on a fresh dressing.”

  “Not necessary. Really. Doc’ll do it later.”

  She ignored him and set about removing the soiled cloths.

  He cringed and his eyes widened.

  “You are hurting. Oh, Stone—”

  “A bit,” he confessed as he shifted slightly. “Guess a certain amount of pain goes with the territory. It’s better’n being dead, I reckon.”

  “Don’t say that.” She gave him a slight slap on his good shoulder. “From what Father and Mr. Nance said, you could’ve easily died last night, several different times.”

  “They were exaggerating.”

  Father stepped forward. “No, Stone. We weren’t. You’re lucky to be alive. So are we. If it weren’t for you—”

  “
If I hadn’t stepped in, you would have handled that man without me.”

  “That’s not so! He was nearly twice my size. I didn’t have a chance. It’d have been me you’d have been burying, not him.”

  Stone shrugged his good shoulder. “Well, I guess that’s something we’ll never know. I say you would’ve handled him without me.” His face took on a look of defeat. “At least you didn’t cause a man to die.”

  Her father shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you? He was the one who pulled the trigger, not you. The gun was in his hand. You can’t blame yourself for his death. If he and the rest of those no-good men hadn’t been out robbing, killing, and setting homes on fire, you’d have been out at your ranch, safe and sound. They brought it upon themselves. Think about what they did to those families.”

  “I’m not so sure—”

  “Well, I am,” Father stated firmly. “Now, let’s have no more of this foolish talk.”

  “Is that cut on your head paining you much?” Juliette asked as she finished taking care of his shoulder.

  Stone’s hand rose to the spot. “Naw, I’d forgotten all about it.”

  The front door of the hotel opened. Two adults and three children stepped inside.

  “Well, good morning, MacGregor family. You’re out and about early.” Her father moved to shake Mr. MacGregor’s hand. “Welcome.”

  The entire family nodded, then moved directly to stand before the wounded man on the sofa.

  “Heard you was spending the night here at the hotel, Stone,” Mr. MacGregor began. “Me and the missus and my children want to thank you for what you did for us.”

  Mrs. MacGregor dropped to her knees in front of Stone, tears bursting from her eyes as she looked at him. “Our home can be replaced, but if you hadn’t gone into that burning house, Calvin wouldn’t be here.”

  Calvin knelt down and put an arm about her shoulders, his own eyes misting over. “If you hadn’t drawn attention to yourself while John led my family to the safety of the trees, I might’ve—”

  Stone blushed and turned his head away. “Aw, come on, you two. Stop it. You know you’d have done the same thing—”

  Mr. MacGregor shook his head. “Stone, don’t try to act like what you did was nothing. You’re a hero, not only to our family but to the entire community.”