Oregon Trail Boxed Set

by Hutton, Callie

  Her cold, stiff fingers tossed dresses aside as she rummaged in her trunk for scented soap. Goose bumps dotted her skin, and she shivered, clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Hugging the soap to her chest, she hurried downstairs, and finally located a towel from the clean laundry basket in the washroom. The only one left. The rest of the room was piled high with dirty clothes. She groaned. More work for her tomorrow.

  Angel dragged a kitchen chair behind her as she returned to the parlor, and placed the items on the bare wooden seat, so it’d be within easy reach. The cooling water didn’t feel quite so wonderful as she settled back in.

  After a few minutes, concerned about the time, she sat up and reached for the soap. It jumped from her wet hands and flew from her grasp, sliding across the floor. She slapped the water in frustration, causing more of it to wash over the side.

  Once more she climbed out, and retrieved the soap. Back in the tub, she used her hands to make lather, and rubbed up and down her arms and legs, before moving to the rest of her body. Next she splashed the water over herself, trying to get the soap off. More soapy water landed on the floor.

  She dunked her head and washed her hair. But there was no maid standing there with a bucket to pour clean water over her head. How in heaven’s name would she get the soap out? Clustered strands of wet, soapy hair fell in her face and stung her eyes. With no other choice she sucked in a breath and dunked her head back into the dirty water, hoping most of the soap would come out as she wiggled her fingers through the wet strands.

  She sat up and ran her hands over her hair. The soap hadn’t all come out, and rivulets of it ran into her eyes. She blindly stretched her hand out toward the chair. When her hand touched the wood, then the soft cotton, she pulled the towel to her face and wiped her eyes. Holding her nose, she dunked once more, and then blinking at a furious pace against the burn in her eyes, stood, and put one foot on the floor.

  Before she could take her other leg out of the tub, her foot slipped on the soapy water and she slid backward. Arms flailing, she grabbed for the chair next to the tub. It turned over and her body landed sideways on top of it. She went down with a thud. Blinding white pain in her side was the last thing she felt before darkness descended.

  * * *

  Nate left the bathhouse feeling good. He carried his dirty clothes in a bundle under his arm, and nodded at several people as he rode past on his horse. A typical Saturday night, the saloons were doing a good business. The sheriff’s palomino stood tied to the hitching post outside the Black Lily, one of the more popular saloons.

  Sheriff Travis could be there for business or pleasure. Once in a while things got rowdy on a Saturday night, but most times the lawman was there to indulge in his favorite pastimes of gambling and visiting with the girls upstairs. And he didn’t appreciate it when his fun was interrupted by business.

  Anticipating his own night of fun, Nate picked up the pace. After arriving home, he brushed the horse, and fed him some oats. Certain he’d given Angel enough time, he hurried up the steps, and let himself in through the back door.

  Silence greeted him. Perhaps Angel waited for him upstairs, possibly in a frilly white nightgown, sitting up in bed, all sweet-smelling, and shy. A single lamp would be burning, and he would leave it on, unless it made his new bride uncomfortable. There was plenty of time for him to talk her into better lighting.

  Whistling a soft tune, he tossed his clothes on the dirty laundry pile, and walked past the kitchen. He glanced into the parlor, and his jaw dropped. Angel lay sprawled on top of a chair, naked, soaking wet, and holding her side as she moaned.

  “Angel, what happened?” He ran to her and knelt in a puddle of water.

  “Fell.” She gasped. “Can’t move, or take a deep breath.”

  Nate eased the chair out from under her and she let out a sharp squeak. “Okay, honey, hold on.” He dashed upstairs, and yanked the blanket off the bed. Then he ran to the boys’ room, and woke up Matt.

  “Matt, come with me. Angel fell and I have to go for the doctor.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Matt followed him downstairs. Nate hurried over to Angel and covered her naked body with the blanket.

  “Is she dead?” Matt stared wide-eyed when Nate threw the blanket over her entire body, covering even her head in his haste.

  “No, just hurt. I’m going to leave you here with her while I fetch the doctor.”

  Nate hunkered down and pulled the blanket off her face. Angel moaned louder, and a tear ran down her cheek.

  “Honey, I’m going for the doctor. I don’t want you to move until he’s had a chance to examine you. I’m leaving Matt here so you won’t be alone.”

  Her eyes closed, she just nodded, biting her bottom lip, two more tears tracking down her cheeks. Her inability to fill her lungs completely confirmed her injured ribs.

  He stood and turned to Matt. “See if you can mop up most of this water, son. Don’t move her, or let her try to get up, okay?”

  “All right.” Chewing his lip, he glanced from the woman on the floor to his papa. “Will she be all right?”

  “I’m sure of it, but I want the doctor to take a look.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and headed to the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  * * *

  Dr. Penrose’s house and office sat at the other end of town. Nate strode to the barn, quickly re-saddled his horse, and took off at a gallop. He didn’t like that Angel said she couldn’t take a deep breath. Hopefully she hadn’t cracked a rib that could be poking into her lung.

  The poor girl certainly had a rough time since she’d arrived. She looked pathetic lying on the floor in pain, with tear-filled eyes. They were not off to a good start.

  He raced through town, past shadowed businesses. The saloons continued to reverberate with noise. Loud laughter and music drifted out the batwing doors as he rode by. The sheriff’s horse still stood patiently in front of the Black Lily.

  At the end of a long, dark road, lights from the doctor’s house provided a beacon. Clumps of mud flew as he tightened the reins on his horse, tossed them over the post and ran up the stairs.

  His frantic banging brought the doctor’s wife and nurse, Mrs. Penrose, to the door. An older woman, she was obviously dressed for bed in her nightgown, with a robe thrown hastily on. Braided silver hair hung down her back, underneath the ruffled cap on her head. Mrs. Penrose smiled at him.

  The Penrose household was used to late night visits. Nate was sure Dr. Penrose, being the only doctor in town, rarely got a complete night’s sleep. The doctor kept patients recovering from illness or injuries in the downstairs bedroom, which allowed supervision throughout the night. Then there were the nighttime visits, such as his, that brought those with pain and misery to his front door.

  “Nate, how nice to see you.” It seemed to him Mrs. Penrose always greeted visitors as if they’d just arrived for tea, no matter the time of day or night.

  Her eyes grew round at his agitated appearance. “One of the children sick?” She opened the door wider to allow him to enter.

  “Is the doc at home, Mrs. Penrose?”

  “He just went up to bed, but I’ll get him. Who’s sick?”

  “My wife fell getting out of the bathtub, and I think she may have broken a rib.”

  At her raised eyebrows, he added, “I just got married yesterday.” He smiled and nodded when she congratulated him.

  “Oh dear,” she tsked. “You just wait right here.”

  Nate paced in the front room, running his fingers through his hair. Mumbled conversation came from upstairs along with the sound of footsteps, and dresser drawers opening and closing. Soon the doctor came down the stairs, buttoning his cuff.

  “Trouble at home, son?” He took his hat from the hook by the door, and picked up his black bag next to it.

  “Yes sir, my wife fell getting out of the tub and she seems to have hurt her side.” He hurried to catch up with the doctor who was already headed down the front steps.
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  Dr. Penrose shouted over his shoulder. “You ride on home, and I’ll follow in my buggy. Just keep her quiet till I get there.”

  * * *

  Dear Lord, can’t you please let me pass out again?

  Once she’d awoken from her initial fall, Angel tried to move, to at least get off the chair, but the pain in her ribs was so strong it took her breath away, so she stayed still. She panicked at the thought she might have damaged a lung.

  Now she lay on the floor, finding it hard to believe she’d created another crisis. Matt kept patting her on the arm, telling her everything would be all right. The poor child must think her a complete dolt, and if he had voiced that opinion out loud, she would have been forced to agree.

  Voices cut through her thoughts, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps coming up the porch steps. Nate burst through the door, with Mrs. Darby close behind. The woman hurried to where she lay on the floor and bent over.

  She turned to Matt. “I saw your papa rush out of the house earlier, so I thought I’d come over to help. What happened?” Mrs. Darby pulled the blanket further up on Angel’s shoulders.

  “Papa said she fell getting out of the tub,” Matt reported. “I mopped up the rest of the water so no one else can slip.”

  “Thanks, son, I appreciate that.” Nate’s voice filled the room, and for some odd reason it calmed her, reassured her.

  “Where’s Dr. Penrose?” Matt’s eyes darted toward the window.

  “He’ll be here soon.” Nate looked down at Angel. “He’s following in his buggy.”

  If she wished hard enough, maybe she could simply disappear, similar to the fairy tales she read as a little girl.

  Poof! All gone.

  Here she was sprawled on the floor, naked except for the blanket, with Nate, Matt and Mrs. Darby all standing in a circle, staring at her. And her drying hair still had soap in it.

  Nate went down on one knee beside Angel and brushed the wet, stringy hair from her face. The sound of a buggy approaching announced the arrival of Dr. Penrose. The doctor strode through the front door and into the parlor just as Luke and John came down the stairs, clutching each other’s hands.

  “What’s going on?” Luke asked as they wandered over to the crowd.

  “What are you two doing up?” Nate snapped. “Go back to bed.”

  “Why is our new mama laying on the floor?” John wanted to know.

  “Did she throw up again, Papa?” Luke looked up at Nate with wide eyes.

  Angel whimpered softly.

  Jesus, take me now.

  “All right, everyone out of my way so I can work.” Dr. Penrose waved his arms around and knelt alongside her. “Tell me what happened, Mrs. Hale.”

  Heat rose in her face and she blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. She whispered to the doctor. As she did, the crowd surrounding her shuffled closer so they could hear.

  After listening to her story, Dr. Penrose turned. “I want everyone out of the room except her husband. I have to examine this woman.”

  6

  After Dr. Penrose announced he would examine Angel, Mrs. Darby ushered the boys into the kitchen with promises of milk and bread with jam. Without fanfare, the doctor drew the blanket down to Angel’s waist. Nate took her hand when she flashed him a startled look in reaction to the doctor’s treatment.

  Angel closed her eyes, and chewed on her lip. Sensing her discomfort, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. As he watched the doctor poke and prod, Nate attempted to maintain his composure, but his mouth had gone dry and his manhood stiff.

  She was everything he’d imagined. Perfect white skin, with generous, rose tipped breasts, more than enough to fill his hands. To the right of her left nipple was a small mole. He imagined circling his tongue over that mole, and working his way over to the nipple to suckle. And then he would move his lips further down, circling her . . . He stopped when he realized what he was doing. For heaven’s sake, the woman was lying on the floor in pain.

  After pushing gently on her ribs once more, Dr. Penrose announced Angel had bruised her ribs, and possibly cracked one. The bruises didn’t seem to be affecting her lungs, though. Nate didn’t know about Angel’s lungs, but he was having a hell of a hard time sucking in a lungful of air himself.

  He and the doctor helped her to sit so he could wrap her ribs. Wrapping slowly and carefully, the doctor took his time, all the while leaving her bosom exposed. By this time Nate’s chest and back were covered with sweat. And he kept shifting his position to rearrange his parts.

  “Now, Mrs. Hale, you are not to do anything strenuous for at least a week.” Dr. Penrose turned to Nate. “I know you’re newly married, son, but this woman cannot move her ribs until they heal. And being an intelligent man, I’m sure you know what I mean.” The doctor slapped him on his shoulder.

  Nate nodded and mentally mumbled curses about bathtubs and soapy water.

  “Get her into bed.” The doctor rolled his sleeves down. “I’ll leave something you can give her every few hours for pain. But don’t let her take it for more than a day or so, only until the worst of the pain passes.” He re-packed his satchel as he spoke. “By taking it easy, she should be fine in about a week. Bring her by my office after she’s had time to heal so I can take another look.”

  Dr. Penrose eased her back down, pulled the blanket up again, and snapped his bag closed. Nate walked the doctor to the door, their heads bent together.

  * * *

  Angel winced as she shifted. She wouldn’t be able to move easily for days.

  “Honey, I want to get the boys back into bed before I help you upstairs. You’ll be all right for a while?” Nate stood in the doorframe to the parlor, one shoulder leaning against it.

  Amidst the pain, a warm feeling washed over her at the endearment he’d used. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes again, tears still leaking.

  Nate ushered the boys upstairs, and Mrs. Darby took her leave, with promises of returning the next morning to help out.

  Angel must have fallen asleep, because it seemed only minutes before Nate returned and bent over her. “I’m going to help you up, and I’ll try real hard not to hurt you.”

  “Could you get my nightgown first?”

  “Oh, sure. In your trunk?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I placed it on the dresser before I took my bath.”

  After a few minutes, he returned with her white cotton nightgown, helped her to sit up, and eased the gown over her head. “I think it’s better if you walk, with me helping you, instead of trying to carry you.”

  Slowly, with his arm wrapped around her waist, they made their way upstairs. A fine sheen of sweat had appeared on her pale face. Nate settled her in the bed, propped up on the pillows he had arranged.

  “I’m really sorry,” she panted.

  Nate shrugged. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Yes, there is. I’m a calamity. I’ve been nothing but trouble since I got off the stagecoach. You must be so sorry you ever sent for a wife.” She looked up at him as one tear tracked down her cheek.

  “No, honey, it’s okay. Honest.” He wiped the tear with his knuckle. “Now, you need to rest. Let me give you the pain medication Dr. Penrose left so you can sleep.” He took a small brown bottle out of his pants pocket and placed it on the dresser.

  Angel sniffed, two more tears escaping. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red and dripping. She looked so pathetic, he pushed aside his disappointment at the loss of his wedding night. He headed downstairs to the kitchen and got a spoon. When he came back, Angel had slid lower, and was lying flat on her back.

  He filled the spoon with the liquid from the bottle, and holding up her head, offered her the medicine. He used his finger to wipe a bit off the corner of her mouth. Then he impulsively bent down and kissed the spot he just wiped.

  Fixing the pillow under her head, he said, “Go to sleep, Angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Nate softly closed the door and
headed downstairs.

  A week of celibacy? With a woman in his bed who possessed the fascinating breasts he’d just ogled?

  Nate poured a brandy, and after blowing out the lamps, stared out the window at the darkness while he sipped his drink.

  It head been a truly memorable night, but not for the reasons he planned. He downed the rest of his brandy and set the glass in the sink.

  Married only two days, and already his wife was driving him to drink.

  * * *

  Angel awoke with something nudging her neck. However slight that annoyance was, it was soon replaced by a painful throbbing in her side. Memories of yesterday’s accident, her embarrassment, and the doctor’s visit, washed over her.

  The nudges began to feel good, and the sensations it caused somewhat diminished the pain. She kept her eyes closed, and enjoyed the feeling. Warmth spread through her, tingles swirled around her body. Her eyes shot open. The soft and gentle touches came from the man lying alongside her.

  “Nate?” she said, frowning.

  “Um,” came the reply. He was still asleep. She looked over her shoulder and his blond head nestled right next to hers. Further down, his mouth placed small kisses on her neck. Still feeling drowsy from the medicine, she sighed and fell back asleep.

  The sun sat high the next time she awoke. But this time the rest of the bed remained empty. Her ribs thumped in rhythm with her heart, but since she needed to visit the privy, she sat up, and reached for the headboard to steady herself as a wave of dizziness swept over her. The pain left her breathless, and sweat beaded her forehead.

  “Mrs. Hale, what are you doing?”

  Startled, another pain shot through her ribs as she jerked. Mrs. Darby hustled around the bed with a look of horror on her kindly face.