“What’s going on here?” Paps came out of the shadows. “Rosalie, are you alright?”
“Martin fell of the barn roof. He can’t move. He’s just laying there…”
“Micah, run and get Doc Mason. Tell him that there is an emergency and to get to the Davis farm immediately.”
The young man nodded and ran from the livery. Paps helped Rosie from the horse and put Nettie in one of the empty stalls. “I just came to town, so the buggy is still hitched. Let’s get back to the farm.”
Rosalie nodded. She couldn’t even speak. Paps helped her into the buggy and climbed in beside her. They pulled out of the livery and she could see the young boy talking to Frank Mason.
Paps only stopped for a moment when he spied Jason Shepherd and David Knight standing in front of the café. Once Paps told them what happened, the mayor and sheriff took off to get their horses and meet them at the Davis farm.
As soon as they got back to the house, Rosalie jumped from the buggy and ran back to Martin’s side. He was unresponsive. Fearing the worst, she put her head against his chest. “He’s still breathing,” she said.
Jason, David and the doc rode up right behind them. “What happened?” Frank Mason asked, jumping from his horse.
“I think he fell from the ladder. It was on him when I found him.”
“How long has he been down like this?”
Rosalie burst into tears. “I don’t know. I laid down and fell asleep. When I woke up, I couldn’t find him. I noticed the ladder was missing from the side of the barn, so I came out to see him. I found him like this.”
Frank looked at Jason and David. “Let’s get him inside and on the bed.”
Paps supervised the men as they carried Martin into the house. Rosalie collapsed at the table and sobbed. They placed the injured man on the bed and returned to the main room, closing the door behind them.
“Do you want us stay?” Jason asked Paps. The old man shook his head.
“I appreciate you coming so quickly.”
“Rosalie,” David said. “I’ll send Hope over in a little bit to check on you.”
Rosalie couldn’t respond. She just laid her head on her arms and sobbed. She felt Paps rubbing her back.
She heard the front door closing. She felt Paps leave her side and head to the bedroom to talk to the doctor. The voices didn’t carry to her. Paps came back and she lifted her head to look at him.
“We had an argument this afternoon.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
Paps nodded. “I heard the comments on the trip. I’ve dealt with those men accordingly. You can’t blame yourself, Rosie.”
“But I do.”
“I need to go see him.”
Paps put his hand on her shoulder. “Let the doc do his work. I’ll make some coffee.” He took the coffee pot and filled it from the water pump. Adding coffee grounds, he put the pot back on the stove.
It took nearly two hours before Doc Mason came out of the bedroom. His expression was grim.
“How's Martin, doctor? Is he awake?” Rosie asked in a rush.
Frank held up his hands. “He's currently sleeping and may not wake up for a day or two at most. He is severely injured and didn’t respond when I put a needle against his feet. That tells me there is nerve damage. That is all I know for now. We’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”
“Is he going to be alright?” Paps asked.
“Like I said, he's sleeping. I can't say much until he wakes up.”
“What can we do for him, doctor?” Rosie wanted to know. She felt so useless for not being able to do anything for her husband.
“Just let him sleep peacefully, Rosalie. Try lowering your voice if you must talk to him and don't make it much. I gave him a shot of morphine for the pain.” He pulled out a large leather pouch and a small tin. He transferred something from the pouch to the tin and handed it to Rosalie. “Make a tea or broth from this once he wakes up. Just have him sip it. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him again.” He continued, “Apply a wet cloth to his forehead if his temperature rises. That's all.” He picked up his bag and headed to the door. “Send for me immediately when he wakes up, please.”
Paps walked the doctor out while Rosie stood and walked to the window where she could hear them talking.
“Be honest with me, Frank, what exactly are we looking at here? Please don't give me the ‘wait till he wakes up’ excuse. I'm having none of that. I just want to know and be prepared for what may come. That boy is like my own son.”
“Honestly, Paps, I can't give a full report until he wakes up. His injury his severe and he likely may not be able to walk again.”
Rosalie let out a gasp. If they heard her, they didn’t say anything.
Paps looked at the young doctor. “Isn't there any hope at all?”
“I told you, Paps. Nothing is certain until he wakes up.”
Chapter 7
It took five days before Martin woke. Rosalie was lying next to him on the bed with her hand on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his breathing were her only comfort.
Not even Paps could reach her during this time of distress. She was aware of people coming and going in the house, so she knew she wasn’t alone, but she didn’t care about anything except Martin waking up.
When she did rise to use the privy or gulp down hot coffee, it was only for a moment before she slid back in beside her husband.
“Rosie?”
Audrey.
She came as soon as she heard the news. Josie came with her. Then Eden, Hope, Mercy and Clementine all arrived. Even Charity stopped by with a large pot of soup. She promised it wasn’t made from mutton, but she couldn’t stay because she had two small children at home and no one to watch them.
Rosalie felt blessed. These were her friends – her true friends. They took turns staying at the house, making food and watching over the young couple. Hunter even stopped by and fixed the roof of the small barn so that the animals were protected from the elements.
Having her friends at the house allowed Paps an opportunity to get back to the ranch to check on things; however, he returned every night to stay with Rosalie.
Rosalie heard her friend call her again. She opened her eyes; they were so heavy and swollen from the tears she had been crying. Her hand was still going up and down with every breath Martin took.
Audrey popped her head into the room. “Clementine just left. She said Eva will be over a bit later to check in on you. I just wanted you to know that I was here.”
Rosalie nodded. Her stomach was rebelling. Perhaps the stress was finally catching up with her? She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting for a moment until the nausea subsided. When she finally felt she could stand, she made her way to the kitchen where Audrey was sitting at the table thumbing through a book.
“Would you like coffee?” Audrey asked.
Rosalie shook her head. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer and ran to the porch to retch over the side. Audrey was there with a wet rag for her face and rubbed her hand in circles on Rosalie’s back.
“There, there, love. You’ll be alright. I’m surprised you didn’t get sick before now with the shock.” She led Rosalie back inside and sat her at the table. “Let me make you some tea and toast.”
“I haven’t made bread in days,” Rosalie said.
“Not to worry. Eden made some when she was here yesterday.”
“Eden?” Eden didn’t cook.
Audrey nodded. “Eva has been teaching her. She has taken right to it as well.” Audrey rummaged through the cabinet until she found the china tea pot, she had given Rosalie as a wedding gift. She put it on the table along with two cups. “Where’s your milk?” she asked.
Rosie pointed to the door. “In the box on the porch.” Audrey nodded and took a small pitcher to fetch some milk.
When the water was boiling, Audrey poured it over the tea leaves and swirled the pot before filling it com
pletely. Rosalie put the lid back on the pot and covered it with a towel. It wasn’t a moment later before Audrey was sliding two pieces of dry toast in front of her.
“I didn’t see butter or jam,” Audrey commented.
“I’ve not made butter,” Rosalie said. “Jam, however, is in the cabinet over there.” Audrey fetched the jam and put it on the table. Rosalie began to cry again. Big fat tears fell onto the tablecloth. She tried to wipe them away. “Where did this come from?” She didn’t recognize it now that she was sitting at the table. The fabric was a pink and green chintz with small yellow roses.
“Josie and I are taking some of my old dresses and making accoutrements for the house. That, my friend, is the dress that you thought looked like a tablecloth.”
Rosie laughed. She recognized it now. Audrey had an extensive wardrobe. She would have dresses shipped from New York every season. Some of them were just beautiful, such as her bright blue dress. Others were, well… She remembered telling Audrey she looked like a walking tablecloth once. Audrey never wore that dress again.
“It is beautiful. Thank you.” Audrey rubbed the back of Rosalie’s hand. “Well, I just thought you might want to have a bit of color.” She poured tea in both cups and added a generous helping of milk into Rosalie’s cup “Look here,” she said, pulling a small sack from her pocket. She opened the paper and there were six sugar cubes. “I don’t buy sugar anymore, as it is so dear. But when I stopped at the mercantile, I asked Mrs. Stewart for four cubes. She snuck in two extras. Isn’t that a treat?” Audrey picked up one of the cubes. “Would you like one?”
Rosalie nodded and Audrey dropped one in the milky tea. Rosalie absently stirred the tea until she couldn’t feel the cube at the bottom of the cup. She took a sip. The sweet taste exploded on her tongue. “We don’t purchase sugar either,” Rosalie said. “There is a beehive in the hollow log. Martin would harvest honey from there.” Rosalie looked at her friend. She had changed since getting married. The spoiled rich girl was gone, and Audrey appeared softer, quieter. “Marriage agrees with you,” Rosalie said, biting into her toast. Her stomach was starting to settle.
Audrey licked the jam from her thumb. “It does. I have never been happier. I have three adorable children, a handsome husband and a sister. I never dreamed I’d have all those.”
Rosalie nodded. She wanted to cry again. She was worried now, that she and Martin might never have children. She sent a little prayer up to God promising she would never bring up children again if He could just make sure Martin was alright.
They had just finished their tea when Rosalie heard movement from the bedroom. “Did you hear that?” she asked her friend.
Audrey nodded. Rosalie pushed back from the table and ran to the bedroom. Martin’s eyes were open, and he was looking up at the ceiling. He blinked twice.
“Audrey, run and get the doctor. He’s awake.” She heard the door slam as she walked over to the bed. “Martin?” She hesitantly put her hand out on his chest. “My love?”
Martin blinked again, slowly this time, before turning his eyes towards Rosalie. A sob released from her throat. “Oh Martin. I was so worried about you.”
“Wa – wa – water.”
“Oh! Of course,” Rosalie ran back to the kitchen and filled a mason jar with cold water from the pump. She grabbed a spoon and headed back to the bed. Sitting down next to Martin, she took a spoonful of water and dribbled it into his mouth. When he started coughing, she stopped. “Can you sit up?” she asked him.
Martin tried to push himself up. Screaming in agony he let himself fall back to the mattress. “No,” he croaked. Rosalie put the jar and spoon on the night table. She wet a cloth in the bowl of water she had left there the night before and began to wipe Martin’s face. She could see the small drops of perspiration breaking out on his forehead.
“Rosalie?” Paps called to her as the door to the house opened. “Are you alright?”
“In the bedroom, Paps,” she called, her eyes never leaving Martin.
Paps stood at the door. “I saw Audrey running to town like the devil himself was after her. I thought something had happened.” He noticed that Martin’s eyes were open. “I guess it did. How are you feeling, son?”
Martin tried to speak, but instead, a guttural sound emerged from him. “Shh, love,” Rosalie said, rubbing circles on the blanket. “You don’t need to talk right now.” She picked up the jar of water and the spoon and gave him a few spoonsful of the cool liquid.
Paps put his hand on Rosalie’s shoulder. “Did Audrey go get Frank?” Rosalie nodded. “I’ll be outside. I’ll put my horse away and wait for him.”
Doc Mason finally arrived. He took one look at Rosalie. “Why don’t you wait outside, Rosalie?” he asked.
“S-s-stay,” Martin croaked.
“I will, Martin.” She kissed his forehead and moved to the corner of the room. Frank sat down in the chair next to the bed. He pushed aside the glass and bowl to make room for his worn leather satchel.
“I heard you had a nasty fall.”
“Something like that,” Martin quipped.
“Keeping your sense of humor is a good sign.” He turned to Rosalie. “How long has he been awake?”
“Right before Audrey ran to get you.” Rosalie watched as the Doc picked up Martin’s arm and began to count. Then he listened to Martin’s chest.
“Take a deep breath.” Martin complied. “I was worried you punctured your lungs, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. You may have broken your ribs. Does it hurt when I touch here?” Frank pressed on the side of Martin’s chest. Martin let out a groan. “I’m fairly certain that those ribs are broken. We can get those wrapped today.” Frank stood and leaned over Martin. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
“Everywhere,” Martin said.
“I’m sure it does,” the doctor replied gently. “But I need to ascertain the depth of your injuries.” The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a small notebook. “Can you move your head?” Martin moved his head slightly from side to side.
“I think my head is going to explode.”
The doctor grunted and wrote something down on a piece of a paper. “Can you lift it up?” Martin attempted to lift his head from the pillow. He managed about an inch before dropping it back down on the pillow. “Don’t try anymore, Martin. Is it alright if I pull back the coverlet?” Martin nodded.
The doctor flipped the cover back. If he was surprised to see Martin in his nightgown, he didn’t say anything.
“I had to change him,” Rosalie announced. “I couldn’t just leave him in his work dungarees.”
“I understand,” Frank said.
“He had been wearing them for three weeks on that trip. I could have grown potatoes in them if I wanted.”
Martin gave a little smile. Rosalie’s heart exploded. He smiled at her! Perhaps he didn’t remember their argument right before he fell.
“Alright, Martin, can you move your arm?”
Martin tried to lift his arm. “Hurts. I feel so weak.”
“I don’t doubt that, friend. How about just moving your fingers?” Martin was able to lift his fingers. “Good. How about the other side?” Martin wiggled his fingers.
“I feel so weak. Too weak.”
“I don’t doubt it. Just lay there.” Frank moved his hand along Martin’s legs, squeezing gently along the way. When he got to Martin’s feet he squeezed each toe. Martin didn’t respond. “Can you wiggle your toes?”
Rosalie saw that nothing was moving. His toes weren’t even so much as flittering.
“And again,” Frank asked. Frank went back to the nightstand and wrote something in his journal. He then reached into the bag and pulled out a long needle. “I’m going to touch you with this. You tell me where you feel it?”
“You are going to jab me?”
“No. Just a light touch.” Frank demonstrated on his own arm. “It is actually more like a knitting needle instead of a regular needle.” He moved clos
er to Martin. “If you feel a sharp pain, let me know.” Martin glared at the doctor.
“Ouch,” Martin said.
“Good. Where did you feel that?”
“On my neck.”
“Good.” The doctor continued down Martin. From one side to the other.
“Shoulder. Elbow. Chest. Belly.”
“All correct.”
Rosalie watched as the doctor placed the needle along Martin’s leg in various spots. “Why isn’t he responding?”
“I will Rosie,” Martin assured her. “As soon as I feel him touch me again.”
Rosalie wanted to cry. He should be feeling those pricks!
The doctor moved to Martin’s feet and blocked her view while he continued to poke Martin with the device. “Did you feel any of that? No matter how lightly?”
Martin shook his head. “Should I have felt it?” The doctor replaced the coverlet and put the needle back in his bag.
“One more thing. Rosalie, I’m going to need your help for this. I want to roll you over on your side so I can look at your back.”
Rosalie moved to the side of the bed. “Take his arms and I’m going to roll him from his shoulders down.”
Rosalie looked down at her husband. “You’ll be fine, honey,” she said softly. The doctor rolled Martin to his side as Rosalie held his arms. She watched Frank examine Martin’s back before placing him back down and writing something in his journal.
“What is it, Doc?” Martin asked.
“I think you have some nerve damage.”
“What does that mean?”
Frank rubbed his eyes. “It means that the signals going from your brain to your legs aren’t getting there. I fear you may have broken your back when you fell, and it has severed the nerves.”
“What?” Rosalie saw tears start to form in Martin’s eyes.
“Shhh,” she said, trying to soothe him.
“I had to wait until you woke up before I could get an accurate diagnosis.”
“But I’ll be able to walk soon. Right, Doc?” Martin tried to push himself up on his palms. “I just need to rest and let the bones repair?”
The Barn Raising Page 5