by Barbara Goss
“I’m glad you got your money back from Dallas.”
“I was more concerned about getting you back, Emma.”
Emma felt a warmth spread through her chest. Did he really care? It couldn’t be an act since it was just the two of them.
“Goodnight, Emma.”
“Goodnight.” Emma rolled over, said her prayers, and soon drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Emma awoke to the sound of dishes clanging in the kitchen. She felt unusually warm, and then she remembered she wasn’t in bed alone. She turned to see Logan asleep close beside her. The heat seemed to be coming from him. She touched his forehead. He was burning up with fever.
Emma shook his shoulders. “Logan!”
He groaned and opened his eyes. “What?”
“You’re burning up. I think your wound might be infected.”
“No wonder it hurts like blazes.” Logan sat up and fell back down. “I don’t suppose there’s a doctor around here.”
“I think not. I’ll get Alan.”
Knowing that Rachel was starting breakfast in the kitchen, Emma grabbed her clothes and scampered into Rachel’s bedroom to dress. Once she was dressed and her hair was done, she ran into the sitting room. Alan wasn’t there, so she went into the kitchen to find him nursing a cup of coffee at the table.
“Alan, Logan’s burning up with fever. What can we do?”
Rachel dropped the frying pan she’d been holding and dashed down the hall. Alan and Emma trailed behind her.
After feeling Logan’s forehead, Rachel called out orders. “Alan: go to the well out back and bring in a bucket of water. Emma: get a few rags. They’re in the cupboard under the sink.”
When Emma returned with the rags, she heard Logan telling Rachel he was fine.
Rachel started to remove his bandage. “You aren’t fine. Just be still.”
Emma and Rachel gasped when they saw the green mucous staining the bandage when she pulled it off, and that the wound was bright red.
Rachel took the bucket of water from Alan and dipped one of the rags into it. She sponged his face, shoulders, and neck. When she was done, Rachel looked up at Emma. “You’ll have to bathe the rest of him.”
As sick as he was, Logan still had enough energy to give Emma a wicked smile.
Emma quickly blurted, “I can’t…I um…I feel dizzy just looking at the wound.” She looked at Alan. “Will you do it?”
Alan nodded and took the bucket and rags. “You ladies go have breakfast. I’ll take over.”
Emma felt guilty for seeming uncaring, so she took one of Logan’s hands and kissed it. “I’ll be back. We’ll fix this. You’ll be better in no time at all.”
Emma stirred her tea and stared at Rachel. “Are you going to tell him who you are?”
Rachel sighed. “No. If I do, I’m afraid of what he’ll say. He hates me, and I don’t blame him. At least this way I can see him and talk to him.”
“Has anyone ever died from a wound infection?” Emma asked.
“You don’t want to know, Emma.”
“Could he die?”
“He can if we didn’t treat him. As soon as Alan finishes with the cool bath, I’ll wash the wound, apply honey, and wrap it back up.”
“Honey? What will that do?”
“My father used it all the time. He was a doctor. The honey hydrates the bacteria, killing it. I always keep a supply on hand for cooking.”
“I need to thank God for putting you in my path for more reasons than one,” Emma said.
Alan came out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. “He feels a little cooler. What next?”
“My turn.” Rachel went to the cupboard, removed a jar, went to another cupboard, and removed a clean cloth. She poured boiling water over the cloth, shook it out, and handed it to Emma. “This has to dry quickly. Can you hang it out on the clothesline? Thank goodness it’s a warm, sunny day.”
Before handing the rag to Emma, she put a safety pin through the cloth. “Hang it with the pin. We need to keep it as sterile as possible.”
“What can I do?” Alan asked.
“The dishes,” Rachel said, rushing down the hall
Emma sat on the bed beside Logan. Rachel had cleaned his wound, doused it in honey, and wrapped it in the clean cloth. There was nothing left to do except pray. Even though Rachel had assured her he’d be fine, she still worried. It was all her fault. She’d brought nothing but trouble with her to Hunter’s Grove. Poor Logan wouldn’t be feverish with an infection if it weren’t for her.
She watched him as he slept. For some reason, she felt she owed him something, and she felt moved to curl up beside him. She lay her head on his chest and prayed he’d be all right.
Emma had nearly fallen asleep when she felt an arm go around her waist. She picked up her head and looked directly into her husband’s blue eyes.
“I’m fine,” he whispered hoarsely.
“I’m so sorry. I brought this all on, and I feel as though I owe you something.”
Logan let out a weak laugh. “I may take you up on that, wife.”
“I’m just your pretend wife, but Ra…Mrs. Bradley thinks our marriage is real so I need to play the part.”
“You play it very well,” he said. “I figured she didn’t know when she gave us a room to share.”
“I owe you that much at least. I feel so guilty.”
“And that’s the only reason you've snuggled up to me with your head on my chest?”
“No. I care about you, really I do.”
“Could you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”
Emma jumped up and poured him some water from the bedside table. She put her arm behind his head and helped him drink.
“It looks as though we won’t be going home today. Maybe tomorrow,” he said.
“Just concentrate on getting better.” Emma put her hand to his forehead. “You’re still running a low-grade fever.” She smoothed out his quilt. “Are you hungry?”
“Mrs. Bradley said she’s making me some soup.”
“I’ll go see if it’s ready.” Emma grasped his hand. “Please, get better.”
Emma brought Logan his soup. “It’s chicken and rice.”
“Yum.” Logan groaned and raised an eyebrow. “I was hoping for a steak.”
“Maybe tomorrow.” Emma put another pillow behind Logan. She put the tray with the soup on his lap. “Do you need help?”
“I feel weak, but I think I can manage a spoon.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you.” Logan tasted the soup. “It’s good.
“Mrs. Bradley does all of her own cooking.”
“No maid or housekeeper?”
“No, she does everything herself. I admire her.”
“By the look of the furnishings, she could afford the help.”
Logan pushed the soup bowl away. “Thank you. I’m not as hungry as I’d thought.”
“You hardly ate any, Logan.”
“What’s Alan doing? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Logan said.
Emma took the soup bowl from him and set it on the table. “He’s playing checkers with Mrs. Bradley.”
“Would you play poker with me sometime?” Logan asked groggily.
“You’d need to teach me, but not today—your eyelids are drooping.” Emma stood. “I’ll leave you to sleep.”
“No,” he said with his eyes still closed. “Stay with me—like you were before. It was so comforting.”
Emma felt it was the least she could do. She crawled up onto the bed, snuggled close to him, and put her head on his chest.
Emma sat up to the sound of voices. Rachel was standing by the bed, and Logan was talking to her. Emma sat up and saw a folded cloth on Logan’s forehead.
“My mother used to do that a long, long, time ago,” Logan said.
“And my mother did it for me when I was sick, too,” Rachel answered as she felt his cheeks and neck. “Eac
h time you feel a little cooler.”
“Are you a mother?” Logan asked.
“Yes. I’ll be right back with fresh water.”
Emma watched Rachel hurry out of the room with Logan’s pitcher of water.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“She was putting a cold cloth on my head when I woke up, and it brought back some ancient memories. Her light touch and soothing voice…it was very odd.”
Emma was tempted to tell Logan who she was. He wouldn’t be suffering from a gunshot wound had it not been for her, and it was a way for Emma to pay him back. Still, she had a feeling it would not only set his recovery back, but he might lash out at poor Rachel, and she felt loyalty to both of them.
She put her head on the pillow beside his and studied him. He seemed more handsome to her each time she saw him. He needed a shave; the scruff gave him a manly look. She had the urge to hug him, but only because of the guilt she felt. Poor Logan.
“Thank you for staying with me,” Logan said, his eyes still closed.
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Stop saying that!”
Emma sat up. He sounded angry. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that, too.”
Emma didn’t know what to say. He’d been so sweet and gentle and now, he was angry.
“Maybe I should let you rest,” she said.
“Yes. You don’t need to sit with me out of guilt. I’ll welcome your company, but only if it’s because you really and truly want to be with me.”
Emma was speechless. She scrambled to her feet and left the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan felt exhausted, and his shoulder hurt like the dickens, but that was no excuse for lashing out at Emma. He’d been desperate to find out how she felt, but he wished he had been gentler about it. He knew she was angry and hurt because she hadn’t been back to see him all day. He wondered if she’d sleep beside him that night.
His motive for what he’d said to her was to find out how she felt about him without him having to tell her he was in love with her. He missed her company, but he had himself to blame. Why hadn’t he let things alone? He should have put more effort into treating her well and hope she’d fall in love with him, too. Patience was never his best trait.
How could he fix things?
When he was young, he never asked his father about his mother. He didn’t remember why—maybe it was because his father refused to talk about it. When he was about twelve, he came right out and asked him where his mother was and why she’d left them. His answer was, "I don’t know where she is, and she left me because she fell in love with my best friend." He refused to talk more about it, but that sentence had said it all.
It made Logan think about Emma and Alan. Could history repeat itself?
Logan pushed the quilt back, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. He pulled on his pants and left the room. He felt dizzy at first but thankfully, it passed. The shoulder was still sore, but the fever seemed like it was gone. There was no longer a reason for him to stay in bed.
He walked out of the room and followed the voices to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway and watched Emma and Alan playing poker. He was teaching her poker! That was something he’d wanted to do. They were laughing and having a good time and that bothered him. He cleared his throat, and they both looked up at him.
“Oh,” Emma said, “you’re up. How do you feel?”
“Care to join us?” Alan said.
“I feel fine. I see you two are having a good time. I’d hate to interrupt.”
“Don’t be silly,” Emma said. “It will be fun. Have a seat.”
Rachel came into the room and felt Logan’s forehead. “Great,” she said. “You’re cool.”
“I’m in need of some fresh air,” Logan said.
“I’ll sit with you on the front porch, if you'd like,” Rachel said. She tucked her arm in his and led him to the porch.
He sat in the rocker, and she took the wicker chair. He took several deep breaths of air.
“I love this porch,” Rachel said.
“You’ve made it special with the flowers and bird feeders.”
“I have my coffee here every morning. I love sitting and listening to the birds.”
They sat in silence for several moments.
“What’s bothering you, Logan?” Rachel asked.
Logan thought her perceptive even as he’d tried to hide his problem. “How much time has Emma spent with my best friend?”
Rachel turned to face him. “Hardly any time at all. She was with you most of the time. This afternoon was the first she’s been with him.” She paused before saying, “Are you jealous of Alan?”
Logan reluctantly nodded. “She seems to prefer his company, and in a way, I don’t blame her. Alan is a fun person to be with. He can have a good time anywhere.”
“Logan, she asked Alan to teach her to play poker so she could surprise you. She wants to play it with you.” She reached over and patted his hand. “I don’t think you should worry about it.”
“My mother left my father for his best friend, and I wondered if it could happen to me.”
Rachel let out a small gasp. “Surely not.”
Logan shifted so he faced Rachel. “Can I confide in you?”
“You may,” she answered.
“I was gambling and lost a lot of money—a few times—and my father was furious. He changed his will to stipulate that unless I married within a year, my sister, Prudence, would inherit everything. It awakened me to the fact that if I didn’t change my ways, I’d lose the ranch I loved.
“I stopped gambling, buckled down to help my father on the ranch, and worked hard to prove myself. He told me he was proud of me and that he’d change the will, but he died before that happened.
“That left me a month to find a bride or lose everything.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I didn’t know what to do. I sulked for two weeks before Alan suggested he contact his aunt’s cousin in Colorado who owned a saloon. He figured a saloon woman would jump at the chance to marry a well-to-do rancher, and it would solve my problem. Emma and I married by proxy, and I didn’t meet her until she stepped off the stagecoach several weeks later.
“Emma and I never consummated our marriage, and we agreed to annul it after six months. I got my inheritance and things went well.”
Logan told her about Dallas and how he’d later found out that Emma had only been a saloon woman for about an hour before she was fired.
“Since then, I’ve slowly fallen in love with her.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Rachel asked.
“She doesn’t feel the same about me.”
“Are you sure? She seems devoted.”
“It’s all an act. I made her promise to act the part and not to tell anyone.”
“Now I see your problem.”
“I need advice from a woman.”
“Phew—I don’t know. This is a difficult situation. Are you positive she doesn’t return your love?”
“She’s fond of me but that’s all.”
“Have you thought about telling her how you feel?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t stand a rejection, so I tried another tactic. I told her not to come into my room to spend time with me for appearances. I told her not to come unless she truly wanted to be with me.”
“What did she say or do then?”
“She left the room and hasn’t been back all day.”
He watched Rachel sit back and close her eyes. He wondered if she’d answer him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, opening her eyes. “I was just trying to put myself in Emma place.”
“And?”
“I think you should court her. Pull her away from Alan. You can start by taking her flowers. Shall I prepare a bouquet?”
“Do you think she’d laugh if I did that?”
“I guarantee she’ll be pleased.”
“What else?”
“Take her for drives in the buggy or into town for a meal—you know, just court her.”
Logan felt excited about the prospect. It might work. He wasn’t happy about the bouquet bit, but he’d do it anyway.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bradley. I wonder why I never thought to do that.”
“Come—let’s go out back and put that bouquet together.”
Rachel bent to pick flowers from the bed. As she picked, she asked Logan, “Why are you so fearful of rejection?”
“I don’t know…maybe it stems from being rejected by my mother.”
Rachel straightened. “Logan, you don’t know that.”
“What else could a child think when his mother abandoned him?”
“Her reason most likely had nothing to do with you. You said she ran off with your father’s best friend. If she truly loved this man, it might have been a heart-wrenching choice for her.”
“She chose him over me and my sister.”
Rachel sighed. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Logan took the flowers she handed him. The woman really looked sorry. Her eyes teared up and he thought she was about to cry.
“Well, it did,” he said. “I don’t want it to happen again.”
Rachel squeezed his arm. “It won’t. I have a feeling things will work out for you two.”
Logan walked into the kitchen where Emma and Alan were still playing cards. Emma looked up and saw him with the flowers.
“Oh, Logan! They’re lovely.”
He offered her the flowers.
“Are they for me?” She took them and inhaled deeply. “Ah, they’re wonderful. Thank you.”
“If I offended you earlier, I’m sorry.”
He watched her smile fade. “I’ll put them in water.”
“Emma,” he called after her. When she turned, he said, “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“All right.” She continued to the sink pump. He watched her put the flowers in a vase and arrange them.
“I’ll put these in the bedroom,” she said.
Logan felt better about things, and he played a few hands of poker with Alan. He looked up from his hand and saw a man standing in the doorway. Before he could respond, Rachel ran into his arms.
