Christmas In Cripple Creek (Hope In Cripple Creek Book 2)

by Sara R. Turnquist

  Reaching out to Jack, Wyatt put a hand to his shoulder. “You’re my son. Nothing could make me think of you any different.”

  Jack’s gaze met Wyatt’s. Were his eyes glazed?

  “I just…I was so scared.” Jack dropped his head.

  Wyatt opened his arms and Jack fell into them. “There’s no shame in that. It was a scary situation.”

  He continued to hold his son for several moments, letting the lad take comfort from him.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  Jack nodded against his shoulder.

  “I was scared, too. More scared than I’ve been in my whole life.”

  The boy pulled back. “You were?”

  “I was.” Wyatt fought back the intense emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “It could have gone badly. For your Ma. And for the baby.”

  “But you knew what to do.” Jack seemed confused.

  “I wasn’t certain it would work. There have been times I’ve used all my skill and still lost a patient.”

  Jack remained silent, his eyes widening.

  “It’s true. Doctors can’t fix everyone. That kind of power only belongs to God.” Wyatt mused on the same words he had spoken to Katie earlier.

  “But why would God let people die?”

  “That, my boy, is a big question. Much bigger than we can get through in a bedtime discussion.”

  Jack’s face fell.

  “It’s one of those things we may never understand. But that’s why we have faith. Why we trust that He is God and He is good.”

  The boy looked at his father. As Wyatt watched, that familiar light in Jack’s affect returned. A measure of peace seemed to cover Wyatt’s soul.

  “Now,” Wyatt said, catching Jack’s eyes, “I best say good night. I think we both need rest—”

  A knock sounded on the front door, echoing through the house.

  Who would be calling at this hour? And why?

  Jack and Wyatt exchanged a look. The boy’s expression mirrored Wyatt’s own trepidation.

  “Lay down. I’ll see who it is.”

  Jack nodded slowly and with hesitation, but he obeyed.

  Wyatt stood and hobbled from the room, closed the bedroom door, and maneuvered toward the front door, with painstakingly slow steps.

  Should he grab his gun? The rifle leaned against the wall by the door. Had Katie set it there for just such an occasion after he became injured? He must remember to thank her for her forethought later.

  The knock sounded again.

  “Doc? Katie?”

  Wyatt knew that voice—David Matthews.

  As he approached the door, Wyatt paused and let out a breath, trying to release the tension building in his shoulders. But only for a moment.

  Why would David come? And so late? Was someone hurt? Needing his care?

  Closing the few remaining steps to the door, he opened it to reveal his brother-in-law. The man’s features scrunched in an unpleasant way. Was he upset?

  “What’s the matter?” Wyatt put on the doctor without effort.

  David shouldered his way in. “Mary told me that Katie wasn’t well earlier today. I just had to check on her.”

  That was it? Did David not trust Wyatt to care for Katie? Wyatt’s shoulders stiffened and a defensive ire rose in him. But he remembered—he would have to tell David about the evening’s happenings. Would he then earn the man’s distrust?

  “She is well. Resting.” Best to stick to the facts. And keep the interchange to a minimum.

  David turned on him. His gaze fell hard on Wyatt. “Truly? Mary is concerned she’s overworked and overstressed.”

  Wyatt let out a breath but turned away. He couldn’t let David read the guilt on his features. “I agree. She has taken on too much.”

  The intensity of David’s glare did not abate.

  Closing his eyes, Wyatt admitted, “And my condition does not help the matter.” How could he face David’s judgment? How could he face his own?

  David let out a breath. “It’s a tough situation…certainly. But we can’t let her overdo it.”

  Wyatt met David’s gaze then. “Do you know who you’re talking about? Have you ever tried to dissuade your sister from something she wants to do? Or feels obligated to?”

  Shrugging, David relaxed his features. “Many times. But that’s not my responsibility.” His gaze leveled on Wyatt once more.

  Would the man not give Wyatt any leeway?

  “So, she’s resting?” David scanned the great room and dining area. He paused. Had something caught his attention?

  He shot a disturbed look at Wyatt as he stepped toward the kitchen.

  As David stood in front of the stove, he lifted lids from pots of food long gone cold.

  Wyatt grimaced. There was no way he could stop the progression of this conversation.

  “Is there a reason dinner didn’t happen as planned?” David’s eyes were hard.

  Wyatt had two choices—continue to offer only what details he must or be more forthcoming about the evening’s events.

  Sighing, his decision made, he spoke, “Katie went into labor.”

  David’s regard went from questioning to accusatory.

  Why? Had he always lived on the edge of judgment toward Wyatt?

  “Is she—?” He stepped toward the hall.

  Wyatt, having made steady movements, was now in David’s path. “She is well. I was able to stop it. Both she and our child are fine.”

  For whatever reason that did nothing to alter the harshness of David’s gaze. When he did speak, his words accused. “Perhaps I should send for Dr. Brown.”

  Wyatt jerked away. “Why?”

  “To ensure Katie and the baby are safe,” David spoke simply, his expression impassive.

  Why would he think Wyatt incapable? “I don’t understand.”

  David didn’t answer but continued to watch Wyatt as he stepped closer.

  “Are you saying that you doubt my abilities as a doctor? Or my care as a husband?” Wyatt flared his nostrils. He wanted to keep his anger in check, but it became rather difficult. There could be no good answer to this question. Not from this man whose good opinion he had trusted.

  “I know you love Katie. I don’t think you would ever intentionally do anything to hurt her.” David’s tone was flat and his words measured.

  “Then…you question my capability as a physician.” It was not a question. And though the words were spoken plainly, they marred Wyatt’s spirit.

  David looked at the floor.

  Some moments passed.

  Would the man answer?

  Just when Wyatt decided that he would not receive a response, David let out a sigh.

  “I don’t want what befell Millie to happen to my sister.”

  Wyatt wouldn’t have been more wounded if David had flung a dagger.

  Millie.

  The woman he’d lost in childbirth last year.

  She went into premature labor. So early. Too early.

  But she hadn’t Katie’s constitution. There had been complications. Plenty of complications.

  And though Wyatt had done everything he could, the woman and child had died.

  Was he truly satisfied that he had done what he could? Yes.

  Did the deaths still plague him? Yes. Every death on his watch did no matter his skill as a physician.

  When Wyatt looked at David again, his brother-in-law faced the great room. What could he say? Was there anything to say? How could he defend himself?

  “I…am sorry you feel that way.”

  David set hands to his hips and shook his head. “Is that all the sympathy you have for Millie?”

  Wyatt looked up, refusing to turn away from David’s glare. “Of course not. I carry that loss with me every day.”

  One of David’s eyebrows quirked. Had that surprised him? Did he think Wyatt so cold and unfeeling?

  “In every situation, I do everything I can for my patient. Everything. Even so, I grieve th
at I couldn’t save her.”

  David’s features softened. “I guess I know that. But…”

  Wyatt waited for him to continue.

  “She’s my baby sister.”

  “I understand that.” Wyatt nodded. “And she’s my wife.”

  “Millie was Jonas’s wife.” David’s voice broke.

  And Wyatt remembered. Millie had been married to David’s good friend, Jonas, a fellow miner who had been through much with David. Even that day, David had been there, waiting and praying with Jonas. He’d stood by Jonas when the news of Millie’s passing came. How had that detail slipped by him?

  The pieces fit more clearly now.

  “I am sorry your friend is grieving. You must know that if there was anything…anything I could do or could have done, I would have.”

  David nodded. “I do.”

  Wyatt watched his brother-in-law relax into his frame a bit more.

  The man’s eyes avoided Wyatt’s. “I apologize for saying that you—”

  “It is forgotten.” Wyatt waved a hand.

  David looked down the hall in the direction of Wyatt and Katie’s bedroom. “I’d like to see her, but I don’t want to disturb her sleep.”

  “I do think she needs all the rest she can get.” Wyatt stood straighter despite his crutch.

  “I’ll be on my way then.” David turned to the door. Then he spun back. “Can I come tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” Wyatt smiled. “She’ll be under strict orders to stay in bed, but she’d love to see you.”

  David nodded, then spun and let himself out.

  Wyatt didn’t make a move to secure the door. Not yet. He shifted to the right and sank into his armchair and…just for a moment, let himself fall apart.

  * * *

  Katherine sat in bed, sulking. She had been so busy this past month that this whole resting business had her completely bored.

  But Wyatt looked out for her and their child’s best interest as a physician and a father. She had no doubts his assertions had been for her own good.

  Still, she had stared at these walls for hours now. Hours!

  Wyatt and Susie came in and out as Susie allowed, but the toddler didn’t care to be cooped up in here any more than Katherine did.

  A couple of books sat on the nightstand, but neither was as intriguing or as satisfying as her moping. Yes, she had turned it into quite the pastime. And in just a morning’s span of time. Imagine what the next couple of weeks would bring.

  Argh!

  A sound echoed in the quietness of the room. What was it?

  Aaagh!

  There it was again. Did someone knock on her door?

  “Come in?” she called.

  Oh, please, let it be Wyatt coming to sit with me!

  The door latch moved.

  Thank You, Lord!

  An opening appeared between the frame and the door, but the face that greeted her was not that of her husband, but of her sister-in-law.

  “Mary!” Katherine was so thrilled she might just cry.

  “Katie?” Mary whispered. “You awake?”

  “Unfortunately,” Katherine muttered. One could only sleep so much.

  “What was that?” Had Mary not heard her comment? Probably for the best.

  “I am. Please, come in,” Katherine encouraged her to come in farther.

  Soon enough, Mary slipped into the room and stood at the bed’s edge. But instead of delight upon her features, her mouth and eyes were etched with concern.

  “Please don’t worry so,” Katherine pressed. “I am well enough. I promise.”

  “Truly?” Mary’s eyes glazed with moisture.

  Katherine put a hand to her stomach. “Yes. We both are.”

  Mary threw her arms around Katherine. “Praise be to God!” The embrace was sweet, but maybe a bit more smothering than Katherine would have liked. Still, she dare not breathe a word about it.

  “Yes. I thank God that Wyatt was here.”

  Pulling back, Mary sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Katie, I am so, so sorry.”

  Katherine furrowed her brows. “For what?”

  Mary fell into the seat that Wyatt had sat in throughout the day. “For not helping you more. You were overwhelmed with the town Christmas traditions. I saw that. And I should have taken care of more things.”

  Laying a hand on Mary’s, Katherine gave her a stern look. “Now listen to me, I pushed myself. I took on that project. You did everything I asked and then some. No one is to blame for my being overworked but me.”

  Mary nodded.

  “And whoever injured Wyatt.”

  “Have they found the rogue?” Mary’s eyes flashed.

  Katherine shook her head. “No. And the sheriff said they were not able to find any leads. They’ve given up.”

  Mary looked at her hands. She seemed so forlorn.

  “What is it?” Katherine settled a hand over hers again.

  “I am just…see I…well, I was so worried, Katie. And when your brother told me what happened last night, I couldn’t hardly sleep for thinking what I should have done better.”

  “Now you stop that right now. Not only is it not true, thinking about what could have or should have been, doesn’t help anyone, does it?” Katherine’s tone hardened.

  “No, I suppose not.” Mary smiled.

  “Good.” Katherine returned the grin. “Let’s not speak of it again.”

  “Agreed.” Mary squeezed Katherine’s hand.

  Katherine leaned her head against the backboard and closed her eyes. She was thankful for her brother and his wife. They cared so much for her and her little family that they would rush over here after—

  She opened her eyes.

  “Did you say David told you last night?”

  “Yes,” Mary said, reaching to the nightstand to fill Katherine’s water. “Right after he returned from visiting Wyatt.”

  David? Came here? And talked with Wyatt? Why, then, hadn’t Wyatt shared as much with her?

  “Something amiss?” Mary asked as she held the glass out to Katherine.

  “I’m not sure.” Katherine took the cup and drank. “But I should speak with my husband.”

  Chapter 6

  Silent Night

  It had been a long day. Katherine stayed in bed, and more people had paraded through her bedroom in this one day than in these last two years combined. First Mary and David came, then Ma and Pa. And the children. So many children ran around her bed.

  But it became quiet. The extended family left. And now she could speak with Wyatt.

  Except he busied himself putting Susie and Jack to bed.

  Katherine waited with every ounce of patience she could muster. She did so tire of her confinement. Regardless of the sense of it. Regardless that it was for the safety of her baby.

  It didn’t mean she had to like it, did it?

  And while Wyatt’s delay gave her time to gather her thoughts, she found the waiting difficult. Why had Wyatt not spoken of David’s visit late last night? Perhaps it was nothing, but she found it curious. The very fact that he had been remiss in telling her made her suspicious. And concerned.

  The door opened.

  Wyatt shuffled in. His hobbling more and more of late became a shuffling. She trusted that his leg had been healing well. And she hoped the recent change in his workload would not hamper his recovery. Could she forgive herself if it did?

  He lifted his gaze to hers. The tiredness was evident in his features. Had this day worn on him also? Perhaps even more than it had her?

  Maybe she should delay their conversation.

  But the longer she did so, the larger it would grow in her mind. That would not serve either of them.

  “How are you?” Wyatt huffed out as he moved to his side of the bed.

  “I am well.” She rubbed her hands across her oversized stomach. “A bit worn with these four walls.”

  He set his crutch down and all but fell upon the bed, shaking her.

 
; “I understand that.” Reaching out his hand, he laid his atop hers on their child.

  Just then, the baby kicked at their joined hands.

  Wyatt lifted his head and caught Katherine’s gaze. Amusement lit the blue in his eyes, making them sparkle. “He’s eager to meet his ma.”

  She smiled. “So a boy for certain?”

  Wyatt shifted to his side, facing her. He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve always thought. You have any feelings one way or another?”

  Looking toward her abdomen, she wondered. Had she considered it? Thought of their baby in one direction or the other?

  Turning back to him, she smiled. “I can’t say I have a strong leaning either way.”

  He bent forward and pressed a kiss to her hands, still on her stomach. So tender. So loving.

  She slid her hand out and brushed his hair back. “How are you?”

  He seemed to ignore her, feeling along the different angles of her stomach. Was he searching for more movement?

  “You did have a difficult task today, hosting the horde of well-wishers.”

  “Mary was the hostess today. I spent most of my time assuring your ma that you and the baby are well enough.” The weight of it seemed to fall on him in that moment. He pulled back and landed once more on his pillow.

  Katherine shifted and leaned over him, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry. But they know you’ll take good care of me. They just worry.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Sweetheart?” She stretched her legs out even farther so she could lay beside him.

  “Yeah?” His gaze remained on the ceiling.

  She would get to the core of his distress. “Is something troubling you?”

  He ran a hand down his face.

  “Tell me,” she insisted.

  Turning toward her, his eyes shone in the dimness. “I don’t want to worry you with things that need not concern you.”

  She paused. What was that supposed to mean? Was there more to that statement than seemed on the surface? One thing she knew—she couldn’t let it go at that. “I’m still your partner. And we agreed to do life together. The fact that I’m pregnant does not change that, does it?”

  He reached for her face, cupping her cheek. “I want to protect you, not burden you.”

  She stiffened. A fire lit within her. “I’m not made of glass, Wyatt Sullivan. I should think you of all people would know that.”