The Barn Raising

by Christine Sterling

  Frank shook his head. “It is much more than just broken bones, Martin. I don’t know if you will ever be able to walk again.”

  The sound that escaped Martin frightened Rosalie. It was like a wounded animal trying to get out of a trap. It continued until Frank inserted a needle in his arm and squeezed.

  The wail eventually subsided and Martin drifted off to sleep.

  Rosalie looked at the doctor. “Now what? That’s it? He just can’t walk again?”

  “That’s not all, Rosalie. He broke his pelvis and those nerves are most likely severed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that the likelihood of Martin fathering a child are very slim.”

  Rosalie wanted to faint. But she needed to be strong for Martin. Her Martin that took care of her every single day. Now it was her turn to take care of him. “I understand,” was all she could manage.

  “I gave him enough of a sedative to help him sleep until tomorrow when I’ll be back to check on him again.”

  “Will he be stuck in this bed for the rest of his life?” Her thought immediately went to Stanley Beck, who was bedbound until he died. He has just recently passed. The thought of losing Martin was just too much to bear.

  Frank shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It will depend on his strength. Mental and physical.” The doctor picked up his instruments and placed everything in his bag before closing it again.

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  Frank nodded and picked up his bag. “I’ll let myself out.” He got to the door and turned to look at Rosalie. “A man’s strength comes from his wife. Now you are going to have to remind Martin of what a strong man he is.”

  Chapter 8

  Martin opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. The room was darker than he expected. He turned to look out the window. Twilight.

  That was Rosie’s favorite time of day. He closed his eyes and swallowed. His throat was so dry. He tried to move his legs, to swing them off the side of the bed, but they didn’t move. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to halt the tear that was escaping down his cheek. He opened his eyes again.

  “Rose?” Did that voice really belong to him? “Ro – Rosalie?” he called.

  The door opened and Paps walked in. “You’re awake.”

  “Where’s Rosie?”

  “I sent her to go visit with Audrey and Eden. She’s at the ranch house.” Paps looked out at the sky. “She should be home any minute now.” He looked at Martin. “Would you like a drink, son?”

  Martin nodded. Paps brought over a jar of water. There was a reed sticking out of it. “What’s that?”

  “You can sip the water through it. Doc Mason suggested it for when you wake up.”

  Martin sipped through the reed. The jar was nearly empty by the time that Martin felt his thirst was partially quenched. “How long was I asleep?”

  Paps tilted his head. “Three days, then two days, now four days more… so that makes uhm, nine days.”

  “Nine days?” He had been asleep for over a week. He had chores to do. “I need to get up.” Darn legs weren’t moving like he wanted them to. He pushed up on his arms. It was painful, but at least he could lean up in bed.

  “Ain’t gonna happen, son,” Paps told him. “You really hurt yourself falling off that roof. Lean forward a bit.” Martin did as he was told and Paps plumped up the pillow behind him. “Do you need another one?” Martin shook his head.

  “I remember the doc saying something about me not being able to walk again.”

  “That’s right. We might be able to get you into a wheelchair soon, though.”

  Martin slapped his hand against the sheet. “I don’t accept that. I can’t.” His voice broke down. “I won’t.”

  “I know, son.” Paps’ eyes were watery. He lifted the corner of his shirt and dabbed them. “But you gotta get better. Be strong for Rosalie.”

  “How can I be strong for her? If I can’t walk, I’m half a man.”

  Paps leaned over and pointed a finger in his face, shaking it as he spoke. “Now, listen to me, Martin Davis. That girl loves you. More than anything. I can only imagine how you feel. I don’t even begin to understand it. But you know what I do know? Pain changes us, Martin. You can either stay in your pain, or you can find a way out of it.”

  Paps sat back down on the chair. “What I'm trying to say is that the sooner you accept things, the better for you. Your wife needs to see that you are accepting of this. She’s devastated too. She’s not eating. She’s retching every day. Her eyes have hollowed out. I don’t even recognize my own daughter, Martin.”

  “Is she ill?”

  “You could say that.” Paps scratched his chin. “She’s feeling guilty. That the accident was her fault.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “She told me you had an argument about what happened on the trip.”

  Martin closed his eyes. “We did. I was so angry that the boys were talking about my past like that.”

  “Everyone has a past, son. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. Even I have a past.”

  “You do?” Paps nodded.

  “Everyone does.”

  “But not everyone is a thief.”

  “You ain’t no thief boy. You were seven or eight years old. Living with a bunch of cowpokes. They weren’t rustlers. I’m glad you got out of that situation. A boy needs a family.”

  It was true. Martin’s parents had died, and he was raised by an uncle that, although he wasn’t a rustler, did sell cattle at a premium price and pocketed the difference before reconciling the account with the ranch owner.

  When it was discovered that his uncle had been embezzling from his employer, Martin took a horse and ran away, thinking the owner would come after him too.

  “I did steal the horse though.”

  “But you gave it back. You dropped it off at the livery in town with a note. That is the sign of an honorable man.

  “Now. You need to do the honorable thing and fix it with Rosalie. Both of you were to blame for the argument and the accident was just that. An accident. You’ll get better, you understand?” Paps stood to leave the room. “First you can sit up. Then we’ll get you into the wheelchair. And then you work to walk again. You hear me? If you don’t try, this can destroy your marriage. You don’t want that do you?”

  Martin shook his head and watched Paps leave, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Martin felt so ashamed of himself that tears welled up in his eyes. Lord. He hadn't even thought of Rosalie, how she must have been dealing with everything going on. She thought she caused the accident?? What a fool he had been.

  The thought of being confined to a wheelchair was unbearable. How would he ever be a man again? How would he ever be able to build his barn? How can he be the father and husband Rosie deserved? He would have to do exactly what Paps suggested. Take it one day, one step at a time.

  He wondered where Rosalie was. He wanted to see her; to reassure her. Of what, he wasn’t sure. He knew the words would come to him once he laid eyes on his wife.

  Rosalie sought counsel from Eva Beck. The woman would know exactly how she was feeling. “I’m concerned that Martin may not get better at all.”

  “A lot of it is going to depend on this,” Eva said, tapping her head. “If he feels sorry for himself, he will never get better. If he knows that you still love him and you treat him like a man, he will.”

  “I’m concerned about having children. He may not be able to father them.”

  “Then God intended for you to get a child another way.”

  “What?” Rosalie was appalled that Eva would even think such a thing.

  “There are trains of orphans going across the country every single month. You can always adopt.” Suddenly Eva realized what she said and laughed. “Oh my. Adoption, I was only talking adoption.”

  “Oh dear! What do I do now? I'm totally ruined.” Rosie broke down and cried. She had been crying non-stop since b
efore the accident.

  “Rosalie? Have you been getting sick?”

  Rosalie stopped crying. “How do you know?”

  “And you are crying at the drop of a hat?” Rosalie nodded. “When was the last time you had your monthly?”

  “I – I don’t remember.”

  Eva came around and gave her a light hug. “I don’t think you need to worry about Martin being a father.”

  Rosalie wiped her eyes. “Why’s that?”

  “I think he already is one.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Rosalie, you are with child. Given how you are behaving, the accident aside, I’d say you are fairly early. Maybe just a few weeks along.”

  Rosalie thought about it. Eva was right. She had missed her cycle but didn’t think about it after the accident. She had been more sensitive than usual, and she remembered that the dress Martin purchased for her was a little tight. But the thought of a baby just filled her heart with joy.

  She hoped for a son, with brown hair and eyes like his father. And the same kind heart.

  “What do I do now?” Rosalie asked.

  Eva sat back down. “You need to summon up all your strength for not only your husband, but your little one.” Rosie put her hands over her belly, already feeling protective over the life inside her. “Martin is a proud man. A man’s greatest fear is not being a man. Be gentle with him. Be patient and remember your vows. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. Best keep that in your heart and let it guide you.”

  Rosalie looked at the outside. The sun was starting to set. She needed to get home to see if there was any change in Martin. “Thank you, Eva,” she said, giving the older woman a kiss on the forehead. “I need to get home and see my husband.”

  Rosalie didn’t share the news with Martin immediately. When she arrived back at the house, she was so overjoyed to see Martin leaning up in bed that she nearly fainted.

  Paps went to fetch the doctor, leaving Martin and Rosalie alone for a bit.

  Rosalie made some tea from the blend that Frank had left her. When she went to get a cup, she spied a piece of brown paper in the cupboard. Taking it out she realized it was the sugar cubes that Audrey had brought.

  She dropped one of the cubes in the bottom of the cup and poured the bitter brew over it. Taking a spoon, she stirred as she walked back to the room. “Are you up for drinking this yourself, or do you want me to spoon feed you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Martin said.

  “Martin, look at me.” Martin turned his head towards Rosalie. She remembered Eva’s words. She needed to be strong. Martin’s eyes no longer sparkled the way they did before. There was no emotion in his face at all. “I need you to drink all this tea. I added a bit of sugar.”

  “Alright, Rosalie.”

  “Eva offered her husband’s wheelchair when you are ready. It has been collecting dust in her house since Stanley died. That way you can sit on the porch. Won’t that be nice?”

  Martin reached for the cup and took a sip. He grimaced at the bitter taste. “I thought you put sugar in here?”

  “I did. I’ll get another cube.”

  Martin put the cup aside as Frank and Paps entered the room. “How’s the patient today?”

  “He appears to be very alert,” Rosalie said.

  “Why don’t you give me a few minutes to examine him and I’ll be right out.” Rosalie and Paps went to the kitchen. She poured three cups of coffee and placed them on the table.

  It didn’t take long before Frank joined them. “It isn’t as bad as I first feared. He did break some bones, but now that the inflammation has gone down it doesn’t appear as critical. He is starting to get feeling back in his lower extremities.”

  “That is wonderful news!” Rosalie said. “Will he be able to sit up soon?”

  “He still needs to rest. Just make sure he moves around the bed. He doesn’t need to get sores in addition to everything else. I also suggest you get some protein into him. Chicken broth would be good.”

  Rosalie nodded. “Anything else?”

  “I think that will be it for now. Just keep him resting and give him some of that tea when he starts hurting.”

  “Eva Beck offered Stanley’s wheelchair. Do you think we can let him go outside?”

  “The fresh air might do him good.”

  “I’ll pick it up tomorrow and bring it over.”

  Frank drained his cup. “Thanks for the coffee, Rosalie. I’ll stop by in two days to check on him. And if anything happens in the meantime, just send someone over to get me.”

  Rosalie showed the doctor out.

  “I need to get going too, Rosie,” Paps said giving her a kiss. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

  “Of course,” she said. Her father had done so much for them already. Sleeping in the rocking chair for over a week was above and beyond. She followed Paps out to where he had parked his wagon.

  Paps looked at her. “Just give him time, Rosalie. Everything will be alright. You’ll see.” After Paps left she went back to check on Martin. He was looking out of the window again.

  “Doc told me I should make you chicken soup. I noticed that big red hen has stopped laying eggs. She might be a bit tough.”

  Martin turned and looked at her. “That’s fine, Rosalie,” he said and turned away once more.

  “Paps said that he would bring over Stanley Beck’s wheelchair the next time he visits.”

  Martin nodded. He didn’t look at her. She was going to need to summon all the patience she had if they were to get through this. Even with the near-death experience, Martin must still be angry about the argument.

  Chapter 9

  Time seemed to stop for Rosalie as she took care of her husband. She was exhausted. She would wake up early in the morning, take care of her needs, then his. Feed the animals. Make breakfast, feed Martin. Let the livestock out of the barn. Do laundry. Make butter. Cook supper, feed Martin. Let the livestock back in.

  No wonder she was tired. Not to mention she tired more quickly than usual now that she was with child. She placed another hand over her belly. She still hadn’t told Martin. She wanted to visit Hope at the medical clinic before she told him. She didn’t want him worrying until she could tell him that she was perfectly healthy.

  Martin still wasn’t talking to her. He laid in bed looking out the window. The wheelchair that Eva had given them was sitting in the corner.

  “I brought you a toasted egg sandwich for supper.” She placed the tray next to the bed.

  “That’s all?”

  “Is that a problem?” Rosalie tried to hide the hurt in her voice.

  Martin turned and looked at her. “I just thought it would be more. I’m actually hungry.”

  “You are?” Rosalie perked up. “What would you like?”

  “I remember those flapjacks you would make on Sunday mornings before church.”

  “You want flapjacks?” Martin nodded. “I’ll be right back then.”

  She practically skipped to the kitchen. If Martin wanted flapjacks, she would make the best ones he had ever had. She sliced a few bits of salt pork into the pan to start it rendering, then she mixed the batter.

  Once the skillet was piping hot, she poured the batter in the pan. It wasn’t long before she had a piping hot stack of pancakes on a plate. She carried them back into the bedroom and laid the tray across Martin’s lap. She noticed he had eaten the egg sandwich as well. “Would you like me to cut them up?”

  Martin shook his head and picked up the knife and fork. “Sit with me,” he said, cutting into his dinner.

  “I’m right here,” she said, patting the chair.

  “No. I mean here, on the bed.” He used the fork to point at the spot where she normally slept.

  Rosalie moved around and scooted into the bed next to him. He held the fork towards her with a bite of pancake on the end.

  “That’s yours.”

  “Doesn’t the king always have his
food tested before he eats it?”

  Rosalie laughed. It was the first time he had joked with her since the accident. If he wanted to be silly, so would she. She took the bite of pancake and chewed thoughtfully. “Tastes just right to me.”

  Martin leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. It was so sudden; Rosalie wasn’t expecting it. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he said.

  Rosalie looked at him and pressed her hand against her cheek. “I am so sorry, too,” she whispered. “But I don’t know what you are sorry for.”

  “Everything. Being angry with you. Not trusting you. Being less than mannerly as you were taking care of me.”

  “Oh Martin, I will always take care of you. You are my husband.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Rosalie.” He offered her another bite of pancake.

  “That’s your dinner. I’ll eat later,” she insisted.

  “How can I fatten you up if you don’t eat? You’ve lost too much weight,” he said waving the fork in the air. She laughed and took a bite. “How about after dinner you help me into that chair, and we go sit on the porch?”

  “Really?” she squealed. Martin nodded.

  Rosie almost wept with gratitude and relief. Her husband was trying to engage in conversation. And he wanted to go outside. For Rosalie, that was enough for her to hold onto. She felt she was getting her husband back.

  The bliss was short-lived as Martin was becoming more and more frustrated. He still couldn’t walk and was now confined to a chair on wheels. His life had turned upside down. Things he took for granted weighed heavily on his mind.

  He spent a lot of time on the porch looking at the farm and the river. It gave him time to think. A lot of time to think.

  As he looked around the yard, he spied everything that he needed to do. He heard Hunter had fixed the roof on the barn. While he was appreciative that his friend did that, it wasn’t Hunter’s place to fix what was Martin’s responsibility.

  His eyes scanned the barn yard. The side of the barn was falling. The garden needed to be weeded. The goats kept getting out of the fenced area and would spend their time on the porch. He didn’t even know where the chickens went during the day.