Christmas in Cripple Creek
Sara Turnquist
Christmas in Cripple Creek
by Sara R. Turnquist
Published by Clean Reads
www.cleanreads.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
CHRISTMAS IN CRIPPLE CREEK
Copyright © 2019 SARA R. TURNQUIST
ISBN 978-1-62135-851-0
Cover Art Designed by AM Designs Studio
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About the Author
Untitled
To my dad, whose support and encouragement have made me who I am today.
Chapter 1
Yuletide Preparations
Katherine Sullivan had never been so pleased with herself. She stepped back and looked at the large tree, breathing in the scent of fresh-cut evergreen. Standing tall and proud in the center of Cripple Creek’s main street, the tree was a testament to the merriment of the season.
Christmas was upon them with all its wonder and delight. It happened to be Katherine’s favorite time of the year. Memories of brown, wrapped packages and peppermint candies flooded her mind. Her skin fairly tingled. Or could it be that she needed to pull her wrap more tightly around herself?
She did so, but it didn’t take away the thrill that shot through her. Times spent around each tree placed in this very spot became tangible—with carols and hymns sung by the whole town as they surrounded the fir branches and ribbons with lit candles in hand.
And this year, she bore the responsibility of ensuring the town decorations were just so. How did she land herself in such a position? True, the mayor and his wife were off visiting their eldest for the next few weeks. But was she the best choice for the job?
“Mama!” A little flash of red ran straight for her legs.
Katherine turned as the small girl collided with her skirt. “Susie, be careful.” She kept her tone soft, but firm.
The small girl looked up, a smile on her face. “For baby?”
Placing a hand on her rounded stomach, Katherine nodded. “Yes, love, for baby. We have to take care of baby.”
Susie flashed her teeth. How could she scold that cute face? It was impossible.
Leaning over, she put a hand on the child’s cheek. “I think we need something from the General Store, hmm?”
There was no pretense between them. While Katherine’s purpose included checking on the red ribbon in stock, these visits always ended with a sugarcoated something in Susie’s hands.
Susie’s smile became wider. As did her eyes.
“Yes, please.” Her blond curls bounced.
Katherine reached for her hand, and together they walked down the wide dirt-packed road toward the wooden planked sidewalk around the stores.
Breathing in the chilled air, Katherine’s oversensitive nose alerted her that Mrs. Abby’s café had stew roasting. Her stomach grumbled. Perhaps when Wyatt returned from his house calls, that could be lunch.
Maybe until then she would have to sneak some of that candy promised to Susie.
As they neared the boardwalk, a familiar vibration shook her knees. The thundering of hoof beats shot alarm through her. She jerked her head left and right. Where did it come from?
A cart rushed down Main Street, careening on its way. The driver pushed the horse to move more quickly. Did he not see her and Susie in the road?
The man flung indistinguishable words in her direction. Only she could not work them out.
Susie!
Katherine grabbed for the toddler. She pushed her legs to work faster than they ever had.
The out-of-control horse bore down upon them. Katherine leaped toward safety. She pushed her arms forward, shoving Susie as far out of the way as possible.
Hands gripped Katherine, swinging her farther from danger.
She blinked as the cart passed, pressing Susie’s face to her chest.
Who had pulled her to safety? The arms still held her.
She peered up; the man’s hands were only then letting go of her arms.
“You all right, ma’am?” The dark-skinned man tipped his hat up, giving her an excellent view of his amber eyes and concerned features.
“Yes, sir. I-I thank you. If you hadn’t reached out and…” Tears pricked her eyes. These cursed mood swings!
“Don’t you worry none about it. Just glad I could help.” The man jerked the brim of his hat downward.
She turned back toward the cart. Where had it stopped? It sat just outside Wyatt’s clinic. Why?
A deep voice spoke beside her again. “If you’re sure you don’t need anything, I best be finding my wife.”
She looked at the man who had rescued her and her daughter as she wiped at her eyes. “Of course. Thank you again, Mister…”
“Jeffries, ma’am. Mr. Jeffries.”
His deep voice soothed her frazzled nerves.
Katherine nodded. “Mr. Jeffries.”
With another nod, he stepped off into the crowd, which parted around him.
She frowned.
In seconds, there was another tug on her arm. “Katie! That was terrifying!”
She knew the voice before she turned. Her brother’s wife, Mary. Setting a hand to the one on her arm, she patted it. Though she wanted to throw herself into Mary’s arms, she needed to contain her emotion now. That was best. For Susie and for these many onlookers.
“Yes, but all is well now, is it not?” Her words and hands may be shaky, but her features were set.
Mary’s eyes widened. “But you can’t imagine how afraid I…why I was certain you would be run over.”
Katherine rubbed her sister-in-law’s fingers as she attempted to look to the happenings at the clinic. “We can’t think of what might have been. All we can do, is be thankful for what is.”
Mary nodded. “I suppose…” Her voice trailed as her eyes followed where Katherine’s gaze landed.
As they watched, the driver knocked on the clinic door.
Nothing.
“Where is Doc?” Mary seemed confused. Why wouldn’t Wyatt answer?
Then Katherine remembered—Wyatt wasn’t there. He was out on house calls. Katherine must tell this gentleman.
The thought of addressing the man who nearly trampled her made her stomach flip. But there might be an injury. An emergency. Could she find someone to attend to it until Wyatt returned? Perhaps someone should ride after Wyatt?
She pushed forward, handing Susie off to Mary’s capable care, and moved toward the clinic.
“Excuse me, sir,” she called as she approached, her voice hitching only slightly.
The man turned, his features displaying his urgency. “Where is the doctor, Mrs.…”
“Sullivan.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m the doctor’s wife. He is out visiting his home-bound patients.”
“What am I supposed to do with this here fella?” The cart’s own
er moved toward the back. “I found him out on the trail all busted up. He’s in a bad way.”
Dare she peer into the cart? She wasn’t one of those doctor’s wives that could stomach any manner of injury. But she swallowed hard and stepped up to the wagon’s bed.
No!
It couldn’t be!
Her hand flew to her mouth. She let out a muffled cry.
Flinging a hand to rest on the driver’s arm kept her upright.
“What is it, Mrs. Sullivan?”
The world spun.
“S-send for the doctor in Victor.”
“What?”
“Just do it!” she screamed.
The man ran off.
She prayed he would make haste.
Clinging now to the side of the wagon, she reached in, fingers grazing the unconscious face of her husband.
“Wyatt…” she cried. “Not now.”
* * *
What was this darkness that pained him? All Wyatt knew was pain. From everywhere. But he became vaguely aware of hands. Working on him. These hands brought even sharper pain.
Where was Katherine? Was she safe? The children?
What had happened to him?
Everything seemed hazy.
But the hands…they begged him to return to awareness, calling him upward and upward…toward brightness.
Dare he follow? Would the pain become too great?
Would Katie be there? If so, he could manage. Yes, for her, he would chance it.
Pushing his mind to clarity, he forced himself to focus. And open his eyes.
Light overwhelmed him. All that existed was light. Was this heaven?
No, there wouldn’t be so much pain.
The darkness invited him back, tempting him to fall into the peace and warmth of its depths.
But there would be no hope of Katie there. And she needed him. He would press on.
Continuing to blink and focus, he turned his head.
A voice cut into the haziness. What did it say?
“…don’t…move…”
Don’t move? But he must. He would lose this fight if he remained still.
Working through the thick cotton-like confusion, he flexed his fingers.
The presence hovered above him now. And the voice grew louder, more insistent.
But he could make no sense of the words.
Was this friend or foe?
He concentrated. Such a difficult thing.
What was his last memory?
Searching, reaching, he clung to the thin threads of awareness. And he remembered.
His final home visit…Mrs. Shelton…that seemed clearer. It had been routine. But his ride to town…
What happened?
A sound pulsed through him. He’d heard a sound. It had concerned him. Why?
He pushed Rusty faster. But something struck his leg.
The beginning of pain.
Rusty spooked.
The beginning of the end.
Bucking and rearing, the horse would not calm.
Wyatt had been thrown. But he couldn’t roll away…his leg had been so heavy…too heavy.
Had Rusty kicked him? Would he be alive if the horse had?
Perhaps he should heed the dark. Let it pull him in.
Katie’s face appeared before him. She called to him. Yes, she did need him. And their child. Their children. He couldn’t give up.
Fighting with everything in him, he pressed up from the surface beneath.
The presence spoke in a harsh tone. Firm hands gripped him. And a cloth covered his nose and mouth.
Chloroform?
No!
He held his breath.
But he knew it was no use. He would either pass out from lack of air or breathe from need. Then he would take in the medicine.
Arms, work. Push it away.
But they couldn’t hold him up and push at the presence. How could he do both? There was a way…but he couldn’t make it work out in his mind.
He gasped. Only a small breath. Maybe he wouldn’t take in too much medicine. But his body cried out for more air. There was no more fighting it. As he breathed in the chloroform, his body succumbed to its effects. Dark tendrils pulled him down…down…down.
Why?
* * *
Katherine watched the clinic door, unblinking. Her heart thundered. It would not slow. Not even as the minutes morphed into hours.
What would come of this? Would Wyatt be all right? The depth of sorrow she touched at this thought overwhelmed her. She pulled back from it.
Wyatt would be well. He had to be.
The door opened.
Dr. Stephen Brown stepped from within the clinic.
Katherine was on her feet the moment the door shifted. She was upon Dr. Brown before she could stop herself. Her hands clutched to her chest, fingers aching at the fierceness of her grip.
“How is he?” She bit at her lip. Would that keep the tears at bay?
Dr. Brown took a step back.
Had she invaded his space? Did she care?
“Dr. Sullivan is out of surgery.” He met her gaze, his eyes a cinnamon barrier to his true thoughts. “There was a massive amount of injury from the shotgun blast. But I removed all the pellets.”
She took in the information. An arm fell across her shoulders. Turning, she found Pa beside her. He had been so strong for her these last few hours.
“I did what I could to repair the damage. But only time will tell.”
Why did he seem discouraged?
“The best thing now is to keep infection from setting in.”
She furrowed her brows. Was that likely? Or another one of those things doctors always concerned themselves with? “But will he be all right?”
“He is out of danger,” Dr. Brown said matter-of-factly; the corners of his lips twitched, but did not rise. “However, even after this recovery, he will need to stay off that leg for some weeks.”
“Stay off the leg?”
“He could possibly use a crutch to help get around, but he won’t be able to stand for any length of time, or put weight on it.”
“But he will be fine after, yes?”
Dr. Brown nodded. “Lord willing, he’ll come out with a slight limp.”
Hugging her father, Katherine didn’t bother to hold back fresh tears. Wyatt survived! And he would be well again!
After some moments of giving herself to her emotions, she turned back to Dr. Brown. “May I see him?”
“He is…resting.” The doctor’s features were stern. “I’d prefer he have time to do so.”
Her face fell. She ached to be with her husband. Even if it was just to look at his chest rise and fall from across the room. “W-when can I see him?”
“Perhaps later today.” Dr. Brown’s eyes were hard. But when he met Katherine’s gaze, they softened. “I may take my patient’s well-being a bit seriously, but I am not heartless. I understand your eagerness to be with your husband.”
Did he? She quieted the protest that almost escaped her lips. And nodded.
“I will send for you at the earliest possible moment.”
Swallowing, she searched out Pa’s hand. She slipped her hand into his and held fast to it.
Pa let out a breath through his teeth. Had she gripped him so hard?
“Please do so, doctor.” Pa’s words were firm.
Dr. Brown nodded and backed into the clinic, shutting the door behind himself.
“How can he do this?” Katherine turned to those who had assembled in wait with her—Pa, David, and Mary.
“It’s for the best,” her brother said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You know Wyatt would do the same.”
She did know, but she didn’t have to like it. What was she supposed to do for…who knew?…perhaps hours…until Dr. Brown declared it safe for her to be with Wyatt?
Mary stepped closer. “Let’s get you something to eat.” She looped an arm through Katherine’s. “I don’t think you’ve eaten a t
hing. And that baby needs you to.”
Katherine opened her mouth to argue, but at the very mention of the baby, her prepared argument fell flat. She would do anything for this baby…Wyatt’s baby.
Nodding, she allowed Mary to lead her toward the café.
The two men took up step behind. They conversed, but in such low tones that Katherine couldn’t make out anything said. Or perhaps she was too absorbed in her own thoughts.
“You’ll feel better about everything after you’ve had a solid meal,” Mary continued. “Food always makes everything better.” She let loose a little laugh.
From the woman’s lithe figure, one would never guess she held such an opinion. She was slender from every angle.
Not that Katherine’s own appetite reflected a hesitancy to eat…especially now. Even when not pregnant, she had a curvier figure than her sister-in-law. All the more so now. But she would not begrudge the extra weight she carried for the baby.
Wyatt certainly didn’t.
Her face warmed. She’d best not follow that line of thinking any further. Not when Pa and David were just behind her.
Still, she might as well give herself over to whatever distractions they could offer.
* * *
Wyatt opened his eyes. This time, he was not stung by the brightness around him. His surroundings were dimly lit. He attempted to take it in. Where was he?
The familiar accouterments of the recovery room became visible. Though scantly furnished, the simple pieces were a relief to see. And the window’s curtains had been drawn, allowing precious little light to enter the space.
He breathed out, thankful the assault on his senses had been thus lessened. Dark and quiet, he found the room more like the darkness he had come from than not.
Except…
His body hurt. In multiple places. The places where he throbbed and ached were many.
Could he sit up? He pressed off the mattress, wanting to straighten his upper body.
Christmas In Cripple Creek (Hope In Cripple Creek Book 2) Page 1
