Mary looked puzzled. Did she not feel her own pressure on her leg either? Mary did the same sequence with her left knee and her leg twitched with every stab.
“Kiowa? What is wrong with me? What am I going to do?” Mary sobbed as she realized the dire situation.
Mary may never walk again!
“Listen to me, Mary. The accident just happened a few hours ago and you have to allow time for your body to heal,” Kiowa tried to comfort her, but there was a trembling shake in his voice as he tried to reassure her.
In sickness and in heath shot through his brain. He never thought when they married this type of scenario would happen to them. Kiowa was responsible for Mary, and her children, no matter what.
What do I do? How do I comfort her now? And how do I take care of Mary, maybe as an invalid, for the rest of her life?
“Yes…you’re right. It just happened…and it will take time to heal,” Mary wiped her wet hands down her tear-streaked cheeks and took a deep breath to calm herself.
Kiowa willed himself to think positive too.
“Let me wash your hair and then I’ll move you to the bed.”
They kept silent in their thoughts as Kiowa washed Mary’s hair, drained the tub, dried her body and blotted the water from her hair as best as he could while she still sat in the tub.
“Hang onto the sides of the tub while I turn back the bedding.”
Kiowa watched Mary a few seconds before rushing to the bedroom to fling back the quilt and sheets. Doctor Pansy wasn’t back with any of Mary’s clothing yet. Kiowa opened the third drawer on his chest of drawers and pulled out one of his oldest, but softest shirts for her to wear in the meantime.
Mary was still clutching the rim of the tub when he returned to the bathroom.
“Here’s a shirt of mine to wear until you have one of your own nightgowns. She carefully lifted her left arm for him to slide the sleeve over one side of her body, and then her other arm.
“Did you lay some old towels down on the bed…in case…I have an accident?”
“No, but I will. Give me another second.” Kiowa only had four towels and he’d already used two on Mary’s body and hair. He pulled the extras from the wall hooks in the bathroom and scurried back to the bedroom to cover the bedding as she requested.
“Okay, let’s move you now. Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on as I lift and carry you to the bed.”
Mary’s weight didn’t bother him, but her squeezing the air out of his throat did.
“Lighten up. I got you, but I have to breathe,” Kiowa wheezed until she relaxed in his arms.
“Thanks,” he said to her as he lowered her onto his bed. “How’s that feel? Do you need any more pillows under your head? Or under your knees or feet?”
“Right now, I just want to relax and settle into the mattress,” Mary muttered as she closed her eyes.
Kiowa watched her face, and body, for signs of distress. She moved her left leg a bit, but not her right.
He prayed again for strength to return to Mary’s body, and for his to help her through this crisis. This was not a good way to finally start their marriage.
“Do you need any laudanum for the pain? It might help you relax and get some sleep.”
Mary hesitated, but then gave in. “Just two drops for now, to cut the edge off the pain.”
Kiowa carefully drew a tiny bit of the liquid from the bottle with a dropper. “Open your mouth.”
He carefully squeezed the dropper until one drop, then another fell onto her tongue, pulling away in case he dropped any extra liquid from the dropper. Too much laudanum could put a person into a deep sleep or poison them.
“Relax and don’t worry about anything right now. I’ll be right here,” Kiowa said as he pulled a chair up to the bed’s side, planning to watch over her until she fell asleep.
“Please hold me, Kiowa,” Mary whispered, “at least until I fall asleep.”
Kiowa crawled into bed on the opposite side of Mary, rolled onto his side and carefully laid his right arm around the top of her pillow while barely touching the top of her head. He laid his left hand on the top of her waist and she weaved her fingers into his and pulled their tightly clasped hands to the top of her chest.
“Sleep now, Mary. I’m right beside you.”
“I know…we’re finally together,” Mary barely spoke as the medicine drugged her system.
Yes, they were together, but the challenges because of their marriage were just about to start.
Chapter 6
“Mary, I wish you’d consider moving over to our house. We can move a bed into the dining room a few days if you don’t feel like walking upstairs yet.”
“No, Darcie. Thank you, but I want to stay with Kiowa,” Mary declined her adopted mother’s suggestion, for more than one reason.
Besides the fact she was loving finally living with her husband, the Shepard house was small. Mary didn’t want to take over their dining space, which was a small room between their kitchen and living room.
Burdette was light enough for Mary’s father and brothers to easily carry her upstairs to share Amelia’s bedroom, but Mary’s back and leg problem meant she needed to stay on the first floor.
Another thing Mary didn’t mention to Darcie was that Mary could now enjoy how she’d decorated Kiowa’s home. It had been Kiowa and her personal secret space, a love nest of sorts, and she’d lavishly furnished it, similar to the home where she’d grown up, in Rochester, New York.
Not that she minded living in the simple, small, two-story wood frame home of the Shepards. It had been a haven for Mary and Gabe when their mother, Mattie Ringwald, abandoned them in Kansas.
Reuben Shepard, Mary’s brother Gabe’s father, had served in the Civil War, and when arriving home in 1865 to his wife, Mattie, he found out she had declared him dead and had married Mary’s father, Reginald Ringwald. Reuben left devastated at the time, leaving his wife and son, eventually wandering to Kansas to settle. Reuben went back to Rochester twelve years later to see Gabe again, just days after Reginald had died.
Mattie, in her anger and grief over her second husband’s death, sent Gabe away with Reuben. But a few months later, Mattie, with Mary in tow, visited Kansas, hoping to lure Reuben and Gabe back to New York on the pretense that she and Reuben were still married. It proved not to be true, and his mother left Mary with Gabe in Kansas. Mattie thought she’d have a better chance to find a new rich husband if she didn’t have children with her.
Mary hated to admit it, but she’d loved the brick home she grew up in in Rochester. And it wasn’t just the expensive furniture she enjoyed but also the manicured lawn surrounded by a thick canopy of deciduous and evergreen trees. She couldn’t duplicate the dense stand of trees of her New York home, but she could decorate the interior in a similar fashion.
“Mary?”
“I’m sorry, I was daydreaming. What did you say?”
“Burdette and Nolie would like to see you move in with us too,” Darcie added to guilt Mary into moving with them.
Mary worried about her children, but she wasn’t able to take care of them yet. Plus, at twelve and ten, they were old enough not to be with her all the time. Even though Mary was confined to bed for a short while, this was her and Kiowa’s belated honeymoon. Did she dare explain that to her adopted mother?
“I’m sure in a short while we’ll be back in our apartment. But this is my chance to be with my husband…”
Mary bit her lip, embarrassed at what she was suggesting, but Darcie would concede.
Darcie looked away for a moment, then back at Mary. “Yes, it is giving you time together, but people are asking about you, wanting to come inside our house to visit as you convalesce. I’ve held them off, but I’ll soon need to tell them what’s going on and where you are. I hate to deceive our family and friends.”
“You haven’t told Grandpa and Grandma Donovan have you? I’m not sure if they’ll understand us keeping our marriage secret,” Mary asked, wo
rried about their reaction that she’d married the blacksmith, and worse, kept it from everyone.
The Donovan’s, Darcie’s father and step-mother, Ennis and Flora, had instantly considered Mary and Gabe their grandchildren, the same as their true grandchildren, Tate and Amelia. Mary had spent many Saturdays with Grandma Flora as she settled into her new life in Clear Creek. As they baked together for the Donovan’s boarders’ meals, Flora listened to Mary’s sadness about the loss of her father and home, giving her comfort along with teaching Mary basic cooking skills she’d never learned from her mother’s cook.
“Mary, they were in the doctor’s waiting room right after your accident happened. Of course, they know you moved into Kiowa’s home and Burdette is with us,” Darcie huffed in frustration.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted time alone with my husband,” Mary said as she leaned back against the pillows again. She tried to sit up to strengthen her back a little time each hour, but she couldn’t do it for too long before the pain worsened.
“I understand why, but you’ve got to let them visit you and Kiowa. Flora’s been wanting to bring a meal over.”
“And being a retired policeman, Grandpa Ennis wants to uncover the facts,” Mary said with resignation. “I’ll talk to Kiowa and he’ll go over to talk to them.”
“Thank you. Now about your dress shop. Two of your customers approached me because they’re waiting on the new dresses you were making for them. Do you want me to bring your sewing projects here to work on while you recover?”
Sewing? She had no urge to work right now. And she couldn’t run the treadle on her sewing machine without the use of her legs either.
“No, they’ll have to wait at least until next week. Maybe then I can sit up long enough to stitch seams on my machine.”
“Mary, you’re not up moving around yet. How bad is your back?” Mary had hoped Darcie wouldn’t ask because she’d been denying it herself.
Mary tried to hold back the tears, but it choked her throat as she tried to speak.
“I…I don’t have any feeling or movement in my right leg yet.”
“What? We thought you were just resting from the hit on your head, and some bruises,” Darcie gasped.
Her mother looked like she wanted to pull down the bedsheets and feel Mary’s leg to prove her wrong.
“No movement at all? Why? I don’t understand,” Darcie said as tears blurred her eyes.
“I fell backward and came down on a step right above my waist, causing bruising and swelling along my spine. Doctor Pansy thinks my leg will work as my back heals, but she’s not sure because it hasn’t happened yet.”
Darcie, who had been sitting relaxed in a chair beside Mary’s bed, leaned forward to capture Mary’s hands, squeezing them as anxiety hit.
“Why hadn’t you told us this already?”
“Because I thought my leg would be better after the first night, and then the next day…”
Four days had passed since her fall, and she still didn’t have any movement in her right leg, no matter how many times she willed her muscles to move it.
“And Kiowa has done everything for you?” Darcie asked, searching Mary’s eyes with her mother’s worry.
“He’s been so wonderful, Darcie. I married a good man.”
“But you didn’t think you could be public about your marriage. That’s not fair to either you or your children. Why did Kiowa demand it stay a secret?”
“He didn’t, Darcie. But with his background, we mutually decided it was best at the time.”
“And now?”
They paused when they heard the door to the back room open and Kiowa step into the bedroom a moment later. He stopped to stare a second, apparently not aware when he walked in that her mother was sitting at her bedside.
Mary watched him carefully slip his jeweler’s loupe glasses off his face, bend the ear pieces flat, and slip them into his vest pocket.
“Darcie. Thank you for coming over to visit Mary. The last time I checked on her, she was sleeping,” Kiowa said as he walked up beside the bed.
Darcie paused, looking at Kiowa and then his vest, trying to figure out what Kiowa was doing with those glasses, but Kiowa didn’t explain himself, so she wouldn’t either.
Plus, Kiowa had on clean clothes, not his blacksmithing leather apron and usual layer of sweat and soot from working in the smithy.
“Darcie was saying we need to talk to Ennis and Flora about our marriage,” Mary spoke quickly before Darcie could ask about Kiowa’s glasses, or say anything about her back injury. “They know something is going on between us, but don’t know the details.”
“Uh, Ennis has already confronted me, and I admit I caved to his inquisition, but I told him they couldn’t visit until you’re ready,” Kiowa confessed.
“See, Mary. I told you people are wondering about you two,” Darcie confirmed part of their conversation.
Kiowa met Mary’s eyes, questioning her wishes.
“If you want to talk to your grandparents, I’ll go over to the boarding house now while your mother is with you.”
Mary hated that she’d kept her marriage secret, but the thing to remember was they were worried about her injuries, not her marital status. Ennis and Flora wouldn’t be prejudiced against Kiowa anyway. Being Irish immigrants, they knew what it felt like to be scorned for being different when they arrived in America.
“Thank you, Kiowa. I think they need to know the facts. I’ll stay with Mary until you return,” Darcie said before turning back to Mary.
Mary held her breath, knowing what Darcie would want to know next as soon as she heard Kiowa had left the house.
“And what other secret—or secrets—are you and Kiowa keeping from your family?”
Mary took a deep breath but pursed her lips instead of answering.
A very expensive one.
Chapter 7
After the bombardment of questions from Ennis, Kiowa figured he just as well stop at Pastor Reagan’s office and…let the pastor continue the interrogation. Or confess what he and Mary had been hiding?
Kiowa didn’t know what to think, but he needed an impartial person who wasn’t related to Mary to talk to.
He opened the front church door and walked up the aisle to the pastor’s office in the back portion of the church instead of using the closer back side door to the office. Kiowa was going to have to start going to church with Mary now that their secret was out, so he just as well get used to walking inside the interior.
Usually Kiowa sat on the front church steps to listen to the service when the weather was nice or stepped inside the foyer if the weather was wet or cold.
The only two times he’d sat in church was for Holly and Nolan’s wedding, because he walked Holly up the aisle, and when he was a pall bearer for Dan Clancy’s funeral.
Kiowa knocked on the partially open door of the pastor’s office. Pastor sat at his cluttered desk, writing something, perhaps this Sunday’s sermon.
“Come in, Kiowa. Have a seat,” Pastor waved at the two wooden chairs in front of his desk. The white-plastered room was small, with a full wall of book shelves right behind the desk, and the two chairs in front of the desk, making the room seem tight. Kiowa wanted to pull on his collar in response to the closeness in the room. His back workroom was twice this size.
“Hello, Kiowa. What can I do for you?”
“Um, worried about the Jenkins family, and wanted to talk to you about that,” Kiowa confessed as he took off his hat and sat down in front of the pastor.
“How are Mary and Burdette?” Pastor started the conversation.
“Burdie’s leg seems to be on the mend, probably because she’s young. I think she and Nolie are enjoying being spoiled by their grandparents.
“And Mary?”
Kiowa thought how to go about talking about his wife. He didn’t think she’d be upset with talking to pastor about their situation.
“I’m taking care of her at my home, because we married five
months ago.”
“Ah, I heard rumors that she was staying with you. So, you’re married, and I, and especially my wife, didn’t know this? Where did you marry, if I might ask?”
“In the First Presbyterian Church in Niagara Falls, New York.”
Pastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “New York? What the heck were you both doing in New York state?”
“Mary and the children were visiting their relatives in Rochester. Although Mary and her mother are barely cordial to each other, Mary is close to her uncles’ families.”
Kiowa paused, but decided to plunge in. “And I went to Buffalo to check on my…business. We didn’t leave Clear Creek together on the train but met up in Kansas City and traveled together after that.”
“You do close the blacksmith shop and disappear about twice a year. But you’ve mentioned you no longer have any living relatives. I assume you get tired of the townspeople and spend time alone on the Plains..”
“Just what do you think a native would do, Pastor?”
“Well, I long for Ireland’s countryside now and then. I assume you’re the same with wishing to return to the past. I know you grew up in western Kansas.”
“But you know my past is mixed because of my half-breed heritage,” Kiowa waved a finger in the air.
“My parents never married, but my father kept track of me. I was sent to an Indian School after the Civil War, because my mother was a native. But my father, a white high-ranking career military man, found out and pulled me out of that degrading place, and sent me to live with my grandfather in Buffalo, New York.”
“What age were you then?”
“Ten years old. I lived in the white man’s world for the next nineteen years until I moved back to Kansas in 1884.”
“I didn’t know that. Most people think you’ve always lived in the area, until you moved to Clear Creek and bought the blacksmith shop from John Anderson,” Pastor noted with a half-smile.
“What trade did you learn in Buffalo?” Pastor challenged him.
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