More work? And the whole of the town? Katherine opened her mouth to make a polite protest, but was cut off.
“It can’t happen soon enough.” Mr. Yerby pulled his chair back from the table.
Katherine’s brows came together. “Soon enough? For what?”
“Why, the train, dear Mrs. Sullivan!” Mr. Hammond’s eyes widened. Was he so surprised she hadn’t known? “The train!”
“Oh, you remember, Katie,” Mary offered. “The two railroads competing to reach Cripple Creek first?”
That did seem familiar. Had she been so caught up in her own life that she could have forgotten something so important?
“Exactly!” Mr Hammond beamed. “The Florence and Cripple Creek Railway has nearly won.”
“It will change everything.” Mr. Yerby met Katherine’s gaze. “For my business. For your husband’s. And even for Hammond here.”
“I…suppose.” Katherine sipped from her glass. Had she and Wyatt not discussed this?
She searched her memory. There was only a vague recollection of such a conversation. But it didn’t seem as if it went so strongly in favor of the train’s coming. Yes, Wyatt welcomed the speed at which supplies could come, but he worried about the loss of the life they knew. What else, he had said, might the train bring?
“You’ll see. It will mean wonderful things for Cripple Creek!” Mr. Hammond declared.
Mrs. Abby’s serving girl stopped at the table with two plates of pot roast. She set one in front of Mary, and the other before Katherine.
“We don’t want to disturb your meal,” Mr. Yerby said, tipping his hat toward Katherine, then toward Mary. “Tell Doc we all hope he is recovered quickly.”
“I will.” Katherine smiled.
The two men returned to their banter as they sat. They removed their hats and continued chatting about the importance of the railroad.
All the while, Katherine became more and more uncertain it was the harbinger of good things as they suspected. What if it brought with it more saloons? More gambling? More unseemly behavior?
Because in her experience, when the town boomed, it was that sort that caused the population to grow.
* * *
Wyatt hobbled toward the steaming pot. There was no other way to put it. That’s how he got around. Hobbling…leaning heavily on a crutch. He couldn’t function without it. No matter how he tried, how hard he pushed himself…he just couldn’t get away from his reliance on it. No two ways about it.
Susie scrambled underfoot.
That didn’t help matters.
“Don’t make Pa trip.” He forced his tone to remain light and easy, though moisture beaded on his forehead.
Not that she could understand his frustration.
She giggled and ran between his legs.
He struggled to maintain his balance. And even so…just barely.
“Susie!” he barked. As soon as the words were out, he wished them back. He hadn’t intended to speak so harshly.
Her wide eyes watered and her lip quivered.
Why had he spoken so?
Dragging himself to a nearby dining chair, he sat and bid her come.
She did…with slow, reluctant steps.
It tore at his heart.
As she neared, he scooped her up and set her on his good leg.
“Susie, Pa is not angry. I’m only worried. About your safety. When you run around my legs, I might fall. That would hurt me and could hurt you. You understand?”
She nodded; big tears made trails down her chubby cheeks.
“Pa loves you forever to the moon.” He let his smile fill his face before he pressed a kiss to her hair.
How had he gotten himself in this mess? Completely lost to these two ladies—Katherine and then Susie. It wasn’t so long ago he was on his own, doing as he pleased, making his way in life, uncaring of others’ opinions.
Now this.
But he knew—this was so much better.
Just as much as they had his heart, he had theirs. And Jack’s. The boy that grew like the wild grass.
Shouldn’t he be home from school by now? Where was he anyway?
Susie patted his cheek. “Pa fuzzy.”
He grinned. “Yes, Pa could use a shave.”
“I like Pa fuzzy.” She giggled. “Like a bear.”
“You’d better hide,” he said as he set her onto her feet. “This Papa Bear is going to come and get you!” He stood, raised his arms, and growled.
She shrieked and ran off toward the hall.
He grabbed for the table as she disappeared, having leaned a bit too far when he launched himself upward. Had she seen his weakness?
He reached for his crutch. She may have the head start, but he would follow and continue their game. After all, he was well enough.
But as he had stood, the chair had nudged the crutch a bit farther away. Now it sat at a precarious angle against the table. If he didn’t capture it with one decisive swipe, it would fall for certain.
He bent from the waist and stretched out his arm.
Not quite enough.
Pushing farther, he put more weight on his good leg and gained some inches. His fingers grazed the crutch.
Just a little more…
No!
It fell in the opposite direction, the wooden implement clattering to the floor.
And he soon after. The chair did nothing to brace his fall, but instead created an obstacle, bruising him and his pride further.
He landed, his arms and legs askance, pain shooting from his leg and his opposite hip where the impact against the chair had been the worst.
But he bit back any sound. He would not scare Susie. Or make known his clumsiness.
The front door shut.
Wyatt closed his eyes. Why must Jack come home to find him thusly? Would his pride ever recover?
“Pa?” Jack called.
Had he spotted Wyatt on the floor? Or did he seek out his father’s whereabouts, unaware? Dare Wyatt call to him? Reveal his location? There was little point in delaying Jack’s finding him.
“Here I am,” he pushed out through gritted teeth.
“Pa!” Jack rushed to him. “What happened?” He scanned the scene. No doubt using some of that deductive reasoning he fancied in that book detective…Sherlock Holmes.
“It’s not important.” Wyatt kept his voice even. “Please. Just help me up.” How humiliating! He needed his eight-year-old son to assist him. Was he truly so helpless?
Jack’s eyes moved left to right. Was he still taking it in? “What should I do, Pa?”
Wyatt managed to twist around and look at his son. “If you set the chair upright, I think I can use it to get myself up.”
The boy’s mouth turned downward on one side. Skeptical? Perhaps rightfully so. The scene must appear impossible.
“Let’s just try.” He waved Jack toward the chair.
The youngster set the chair in place as told.
Wyatt then set his hands on the seat and worked to pull himself up.
Smaller hands came around his back and sides, jerking him upright as well. Jack?
He mustn’t! He might injure himself.
Jerking his head toward the boy, he found he could no more scold the boy’s effort than swallow his own pride.
So, little by little, inch by inch, they worked until Wyatt sat in the chair once more. Wyatt’s breaths came heavily. As he slowed his own breathing, he heard that Jack, too, worked for air.
“I think that’s all the help you should offer.” Wyatt set a hand to Jack’s arm. “Thank you.”
Jack smiled.
He caught and held Jack’s gaze for a moment. “Can you find your sister for me? She is hiding in one of the bedrooms.”
Jack nodded and went off after his charge.
Wyatt collapsed his upper body onto the table. Why did Jack have to see him like that? Why was he so weak?
But this pity wouldn’t do any of them any good. Katie least of all. She had carried
such a heavy burden since his injuries. And he would not weigh her further.
He must find a way to replenish his strength—and fast—she was due home any moment.
Chapter 3
Will the Merriment Ever End?
Katherine maneuvered the horse and cart to the homestead. It had been quite a day. How would she ever accomplish it all? Preparing the town for the season and coordinating the festivities all while caring for Wyatt, the home, and the children—an overwhelming list.
She slowed the horse and carefully lowered herself from the seat. No easy task with her growing midsection. But soon enough, she stood on solid ground.
Taking in a long breath, she looked at the post in front of the house. How nice it would be to put the horse there, and wait for Wyatt to manage the animal and cart. Or leave it for later. But that would serve no one. Wyatt wasn’t in any condition to handle the horse and cart. It was up to her.
She made the shortest work possible of stabling the horse, but she was still sweating by the time she was done. This wasn’t how she wanted to greet her husband.
Oh well.
Making her way up the steps and into the house, she wanted to collapse in her armchair or perhaps the bed. She didn’t even care about dinner. Still, someone had to provide nourishment for the children and Wyatt.
She shrugged out of her coat and hung it by the door.
“Mama!” That flash of blonde ran straight for her legs, hugging onto her.
She put a hand to Susie’s curls. “Hello, sweet girl. How is Mama’s angel?”
The girl peered up at her. “Pa fall down.”
“What?” Was he well? Injured? Katherine looked around, searching. She spotted Wyatt with Jack by the dinner table, setting out plates. At every seat.
Why so many?
“Fell down?” Katherine murmured, more to herself.
Susie toddled toward the great room, to a collection of blocks and a half-constructed building.
Katherine stepped toward her husband.
He looked up as she approached. A smile crossed his features and he opened his arms in her direction.
She longed for his embrace, despite her concern. His comfort, his warmth, and the surety of his love were all desperately needed.
Walking into his arms, she wrapped hers around his shoulders. And he enfolded her, holding her close.
“How are you?” she whispered.
He leaned back just far enough to catch her eyes.
“Well enough.” He tipped her face upward with a finger under her chin. “What about you?”
She grimaced. Would he avoid the issue? “I’m all right. But I’m not worried about me. Susie said you fell.”
Wyatt’s mouth became a thin line. “I wish she hadn’t. It was nothing. A little accident.”
Katherine furrowed her eyebrows.
“Truly, my love. A little slip. Nothing more,” he insisted, eyes scanning her features. “I’m more concerned about how tired you look.”
She frowned. Forcing the issue would produce nothing but defensive words between them. “Today was rather full.”
Reaching up, he moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “Perhaps you should pass this position onto someone else.”
She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m committed now. That wouldn’t be right.”
He shrugged. “Just a thought.”
She bristled. How could he not understand?
He grinned. “I have another thought…”
“Oh?” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh yes.” His fingers caressed the side of her face. “I have been remiss in welcoming my wife home…properly.”
She worked to keep a straight face. “That is true.”
He moved his face nearer. “That…I intend to remedy.”
A murmured response was all she managed as his lips pressed against hers.
All thoughts vanished as she became lost in that world that belonged to her and Wyatt alone. A place where all that existed was this excitement, this stirring in her midsection, spreading like wildfire. And the reality of him—his scent, his body, his lips’ movement on hers.
When he pulled back again, her head spun. But he didn’t release her. And she wondered as always—did he know she was light-headed? Is that why he held onto her? Or because he was?
After some moments passed and she returned to solid ground, she remembered the extra plates on the table.
She pulled back a little more. “Why so many settings for dinner?”
“Oh.” He looked at the table as if he, too, were surprised. Then his eyes caught hers again. “I have something I hope will cheer you up…”
Why was she afraid it would do nothing of the sort?
“I invited your parents and your brother’s family over for dinner.”
Katherine’s mouth fell. There were things she wanted to say, and things she best not say.
Wyatt had likely done this for her, truly hoping to give her a surprise gift of some sort. She enjoyed her family. But tonight she was tired…so tired. How could she sit through a large family meal when all she wanted was to lay down and forget dinner altogether? Even more…what would she say to Wyatt at this moment?
Honesty. Always best.
“I…don’t know what to say.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Don’t say anything. The food is almost done.”
“You…have dinner ready?” What else had he been up to? Had he pushed himself too far?
“Yeah.” He shot her one of his more charming smiles. “I’m not completely useless.” Stepping away from her, he disentangled his arms and hobbled toward the oven.
“Wyatt…” What could she say? Did she wish to chastise him? But dare she let him continue to do these things…so much that it compromised his recovery?
She glanced at Jack. He had moved toward the great room and assisted Susie with her block creation. Good. He didn’t need to be privy to this interchange.
Wyatt stirred something that smelled divine. The smell of baked chicken carried across the room.
“Wyatt.”
He set the spoon down and stared out the window. “Don’t say it.” His brilliant blue eyes turned on her. “I know you want me to be careful. But I can’t sit around and let you do everything. I can’t.”
How could she express herself without challenging him?
“And I can’t watch you wear yourself to the bone.” His eyes were serious.
She frowned.
“Especially not now.” His gaze shot toward her abdomen.
She took a few steps, closing the distance between them. “What would you say to one of your patients with these same injuries?”
He licked his lips and glanced at the ceiling, letting out a breath.
“I worry about you.” She moved closer. They were only an arm’s length apart.
His gaze captured hers again. “I understand. And I would be understanding toward a patient with a very pregnant wife.”
Katherine quirked a brow and tilted her head. She knew him better than that. “Would you?”
He looked down but peered up at her after a moment. “You have no right to be so familiar, Mrs. Sullivan.” Reaching out, he grabbed her and pulled her to himself. “And use it against me.”
“I have every right.” She laid a hand to the side of his face, feeling the scruff there. Her heart thumped harder. There was no denying she liked this unshaven look. “And you know it.”
He claimed her lips once more, a wilder, more passionate kiss.
When they broke, he lay his forehead against hers. “All right. I’ll slow down. If you will.”
She nodded against him. “Deal.”
Only time would tell if he would uphold his end of the bargain. Or if she would.
As for now, however, the sound of hoof beats outside alerted them that someone had arrived.
* * *
“That was delicious!” Lauren Matthews blotted her lips w
ith her linen napkin.
Wyatt smiled despite himself. Impressing Katherine’s mother was always an added bonus.
“I don’t know how you manage,” Mary added. “In town all day working on the Christmas festivities and then home to create this wonderful spread.”
He felt Katherine’s eyes on him. Now he wished she wouldn’t have to give him credit. If only she would let the comment slide.
But she wouldn’t.
“It wasn’t me.” She coughed into her napkin.
Wyatt’s eyes found hers. Dare he betray the sympathy he had for her? Would she read it as pity?
“Wyatt is responsible for this evening’s meal.”
Tom clapped him on the back. “Well now, Doc. I knew you were a good cook. But you outdid yourself tonight. And hobbling around to boot.”
He smiled at his father-in-law, but his gaze soon found Katherine’s again.
Her eyes were turned toward the table’s surface. And there was no mistaking the rise of color in her cheeks.
“Are you warm, Katie?” her brother asked. Must he?
“Oof!” David muffled a yelp, drawing Wyatt’s regard. Mary pulled her elbow back to her side.
“What?” David rubbed his arm.
“It’s nothing.” Katherine gave David the courtesy of an answer. “I’m just a bit…” But her words trailed off. How could she answer that?
“As you probably remember, David, pregnancy can make a woman flush at a moment’s notice,” Wyatt offered. Hopefully Katherine would accept his assistance.
The look she shot him did not appear thankful.
He wished he could get up and gather dishes…or disappear…anything to remove himself from this situation.
“Yeah, I remember,” David said, glancing at his wife. Still, he didn’t seem any more convinced.
An awkward silence fell over the room.
“Let me help with these dishes.” Mary stood.
“Me too.” Lauren was also on her feet in a moment.
Katherine rose.
Lauren put out an arm. “You’ve done too much already today, sweetheart. Rest.”
“But—” Katherine grabbed her own plate as she turned.
Christmas In Cripple Creek (Hope In Cripple Creek Book 2) Page 3
