The Bitter and the Sweet (Kansas Crossroads Book 9)

by Amelia C. Adams

  He turned to go, but then stopped when Gilbert said, “It’s no use, you know. She can’t stand our family.”

  “What?”

  “Miss Palmer. She told me quite plainly this afternoon that she wants nothing more to do with any of us.” Gilbert tucked a handkerchief into his pocket. “So, I don’t know what hopes you were entertaining there, but it seems they’ve all been dashed. Sorry about that, brother. She is quite a winsome creature, and I’m sure she turned your head. There are other girls out there, though—every one of them pining for a chance at the eldest Howard son.”

  Not able to think of a retort, Stephen spun on his heel and strode out of the room. He had no idea what to think. Had Sarah really told Gilbert she wanted away from the entire family, or was Gilbert being spiteful? And what were Gilbert’s true intentions—why would he promise to help Stephen in one breath, and then change positions and attack him in the next?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Denver, Colorado

  1875

  After the interesting events at the luncheon, followed by the surprise visit from Gilbert, Sarah decided to stay home from church the next day rather than subjecting herself to yet another dose of Denver society gossip. She helped Felicity dress the boys, then sat with the baby and Aunt Clasby while everyone else left.

  “It’s just us girls,” she said, laying the baby in the center of the bed so her aunt could admire the little fingers and toes. “Whatever will we do with ourselves?”

  “We could eat all the cookies in the cookie jar and get fabulously sick,” Aunt Clasby suggested.

  “Cookies, yes, but I’d rather not get sick.” Sarah went into the kitchen, fetched the jar, and returned to the bedroom. Charity gave a tiny whimper in her sleep, and both women smiled.

  “I don’t believe you’ve told me how the church choir is coming along. Is the new Mrs. Osbourne still conducting it?”

  “Yes, and she’s doing a marvelous job. No one could ever take your place, though, Auntie.”

  “Oh, hush. Stop flattering me. I don’t expect to be the best at everything.” Aunt Clasby took a bite of her cookie and chewed. “I’m glad she’s not making a mock of the whole thing. I did have my doubts about her.”

  “I think everyone in the congregation had their doubts, not only in her role as the choir director, but as the pastor’s wife. She’s been so good for the church, though. Everyone was taking themselves a bit too seriously.”

  “Hmmm.” Aunt Clasby took another bite. “I suppose so.”

  Charity gave another whimper, and then woke up. “I guess break time is over,” Sarah said, picking up the tiny bundle and holding her close. “You be thinking about what you want for lunch, Aunt Clasby, and I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  The next two days passed just as quietly. Stephen didn’t come by, which was a surprise. It seemed he was everywhere, and then he was gone. Sarah wondered about it, but didn’t think she should try to seek him out. Not only would that be awkward, but it would be forward. Maybe he was embarrassed about confiding in her. He’d probably thought it over, decided he’d made a horrible mistake, and was staying away so he wouldn’t have to own up to it. Whatever the reason, she kept herself busy in the kitchen and with the children, and tried not to think about it too much. Sometimes she was more successful than at others.

  When the train arrived on Wednesday morning, John met it at the station so he could give the doctor a ride back to the house. Sarah was eager to see Dr. Wayment. There had been so much confusion about her aunt’s health, she couldn’t wait to hear some other opinions.

  Dr. Wayment greeted Sarah with a broad smile as he entered the house. “Hello there. We’ve missed you in Topeka.”

  “Has anyone burned down the kitchen yet?”

  He laughed. “No, everything’s fine. But you have a certain touch with the food that no one else has.”

  That warmed Sarah clean through. She didn’t want to be so easily replaced.

  She showed the doctor in to her aunt’s room, then stayed close by in case he needed an assistant.

  “You’re looking a bit thinner than you did a few months back,” Dr. Wayment said, peering at Aunt Clasby closely. “Tell me when all this started.”

  “When I first got here, I noticed I was having some headaches and shortness of breath,” she replied. “I thought it was just travel fatigue, and anyone who cares for three little boys is going to be short of breath.”

  “True,” Dr. Wayment said with a chuckle.

  “But then it just never seemed to get any better, and after the baby came, I was so tired. I’m afraid I haven’t been any help in quite some time.”

  “Well, let me take a listen.” Dr. Wayment pulled out his stethoscope and listened to her heart. Sarah wished she could tell what he was thinking, but as always, his face was inscrutable. “Hmm.”

  “Well?” Sarah asked, unable to stay quiet any longer.

  “Her heart seems to be beating just a bit rapidly, but it’s strong,” he replied. He cocked his head to the side while he thought, then took her pulse, then thought a bit more. Then came a long series of questions, most of which seemed a bit odd to Sarah, including a question about visiting the mountains.

  “Oh, gracious no,” Aunt Clasby replied, shock in her voice. “I don’t like the mountains. Why would I go any closer to them than I already am?”

  “Why don’t you like them?”

  “They’re so tall! They just loom over everything!”

  Sarah expected the doctor to chuckle at that, or to smile, but instead, he looked even more solemn. “Mrs. Clasby, this is an interesting case. A very interesting case indeed. And I have a theory, but I’m not at all sure I can prove it.”

  “What is it, Doctor?” Felicity asked from the other corner of the room.

  “Well, as luck would have it, I’ve been reading a new publication by a man named Denis Jordanet. He’s spent much of his professional career studying altitude and its effect on the human body, and his findings are fascinating. He says that the higher one goes in elevation, the more of a toll it takes on the body, creating such symptoms as headaches, weakness, lightheadedness, difficulty in breathing, nausea, and so forth.”

  “Altitude?” Aunt Clasby asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Topeka, where you lived most of your life, is under a thousand feet above sea level. However, Denver is a mile above sea level. That’s a difference of over four thousand feet. Given your symptoms and when they started, I’d be inclined to say that you have altitude sickness.”

  Aunt Clasby’s jaw dropped. “Do you mean I have an actual reason to dislike the mountains? Felicity has been teasing me this whole time, but maybe my body knew something I didn’t!”

  This time, the doctor did laugh. “Yes, you have a reason, but I don’t think that your dislike of them is connected to this condition. It’s just coincidental.”

  “How do we treat this?” Felicity asked.

  “There isn’t an actual cure except removing her from the higher elevation,” Dr. Wayment explained. “I could be wrong, but I believe that if she were to leave Denver, she’d feel much better in a short amount of time.”

  “Oh, but I don’t want to leave my grandchildren,” Aunt Clasby protested.

  “Wouldn’t she get used to the elevation after a while?” Felicity asked. “I haven’t had any trouble since I moved here.”

  “She might get used to it, but she’s already been here a while, so that process should have taken place, and it hasn’t,” Dr. Wayment said. “Plus, her advanced age makes that less likely. She’s going to be more susceptible to things than a younger person just as a natural matter of course.”

  “I’m not at all sure that I like you referring to my age as being ‘advanced.’” Aunt Clasby huffed.

  “How shall I phrase it, then . . . You are a bit more elegant and refined than those around you?” Dr. Wayment gave her a gentle smile.

  “Yes. I like that quite a bit.”

  “Very
well. Given your aunt’s elegance and refinement, she’s more susceptible.”

  Aunt Clasby sat up a little straighter, obviously pleased.

  “I think it’s worth a try,” Felicity said after a long moment. “I hate seeing her feel so poorly.”

  “What do you suggest we do, Doctor?” Sarah said.

  “I’d like to escort her back to Topeka and watch her closely along the way. If her symptoms seem to fade as we drop in elevation, that will tell us a great deal.”

  “I don’t have a house in Topeka anymore,” Aunt Clasby pointed out. “I sold mine when I moved here.”

  “You can stay at the Brody for a while until we find you another place to live,” Sarah told her.

  “I suppose that would work. It all just sounds like a bother to me.”

  “How soon do you want to leave?” Felicity asked.

  “I realize this is all sudden and that you haven’t had any time to prepare, but given the nature of her illness, I’d like to be on tomorrow’s train.”

  Felicity stared at him, her mouth open. “Tomorrow?” she said after a long moment.

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, but I really think it’s best.”

  She blinked a few times, then nodded. “All right. I believe we’ll send along one trunk, and then after we see how she’s feeling, then we’ll worry about her other belongings.”

  “I think that’s wise.” Dr. Wayment turned to Aunt Clasby, who hadn’t responded to the announcement. “What do you think, Mrs. Clasby?”

  To Sarah’s surprise, the woman had large tears rolling down her cheeks. “My grandbabies,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Mother.” Felicity bent over and gave her a hug. “We’ll miss you too, but we need to give this a try. It’s for your own good.”

  “I . . . I suppose you’re right.” Aunt Clasby grabbed her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “I’m going to need quite a lot of help to get ready.”

  “Of course. Sarah, can you help out with the children while Mother and I decide what to pack?”

  “Absolutely.” Sarah gave a small nod, but then motioned for Dr. Wayment to come a little closer. When she was reasonably sure she wouldn’t be overheard, she asked. “How convinced are you of this diagnosis? It sounds so unusual.”

  “I know it does, and that’s why I was hesitant to suggest it. I’ll be the first to say that I could be wrong, but given the abrupt change in elevation, going up over four thousand feet, I’m willing to say that I believe taking her home with us will be for the very best. And if she doesn’t see a dramatic increase in her health within a few days, we can always bring her back so she can be with her family while we figure out the next step.”

  Sarah nodded. “All right. Thank you for coming out here, Doctor. It means a lot.”

  “Well now, I couldn’t leave your aunt in the care of some lovesick buffoon, could I?” He smiled at Sarah’s started reaction. “Yes, John told me the whole story on the way back from the station. You have to admit, it’s quite flattering.”

  “Flattering? It’s humiliating. I can’t believe the entire thing happened.” Sarah knew her face was red. “I wanted to ask . . . Do you think he made up the whole thing to get me out here, or does Aunt Clasby have enough symptoms to warrant that kind of concern?”

  Dr. Wayment chuckled. “I can’t answer for his motives—I don’t even know the man. But if it makes you feel any better, I will say that if I hadn’t been studying on this very topic, I would probably be concerned too. And I might even write a letter to a certain beautiful niece to encourage her to come. If I weren’t already very happily engaged, of course.”

  “Of course.” Sarah smiled. “How is Jeanette doing? We at the hotel haven’t heard from her in a long while.”

  “She’s doing well. Studying hard, applying herself—everything we expected she would do. Seems her roommate just became engaged to one of the doctors. She said our love story must be very inspirational.”

  “I agree.” Sarah glanced over at her cousin and aunt, who were deep in discussion about dresses and hats. Dr. Wayment followed her gaze.

  “She’ll be all right, one way or the other,” he said softly. “I’m not going to give up until she’s healthy again.”

  “I appreciate that, Doctor,” Sarah told him. “I can’t express how much.”

  ***

  John took Dr. Wayment over to the hotel to arrange for a room, telling Felicity that while he was gone, he’d buy the train tickets for the next morning. Sarah hoped John could really afford all that—it was a needed expense, but they weren’t wealthy.

  “Sarah, why does Grandma have to leave us?” Karl asked her, climbing up onto her lap.

  She put down the storybook she’d been reading aloud and held him close. “Because she’s sick, and she needs to get better. We want her to get better, don’t we?”

  “Yes, but I can take care of her. I’m big,” Karl said solemnly.

  “I know you are, sweetheart, but the kind of sickness she has means that she can’t live in Denver anymore.”

  “I overheard the whole thing. It’s the mountains,” James said with authority. “It’s just like she said—they’re bad.”

  “They’re not bad! They’re pretty!” Charlie jumped up with his fists clenched, almost like he was ready to defend the mountains from his brother’s accusations.

  Sarah chuckled. Oh, she would miss these boys. “Listen. It’s not the mountains’ fault. Living in Denver is like . . .” Hmm. This might be tricky. “Your street is flat, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” James answered slowly. “But what does that have to do with mountains?”

  “Bear with me. Your street is flat, but it’s steeper on one end, isn’t it? When you’re walking up the street, doesn’t it get harder after a minute?” She held her hand up to illustrate.

  The boys nodded.

  “Denver is like the steep end of the road. It’s up higher than other towns. Topeka, where your grandmother is from, is like the lower end of the road. It’s not up as high. That’s why Denver is hard on your grandma. Her body doesn’t like being up so high.”

  “She could just stay off the steep part of the road,” Charlie said.

  “I think Sarah means the whole town is like the steep part of the road,” James replied.

  “Exactly right. Or let me see—maybe there’s another way to explain it.” Sarah grabbed three picture books and stacked them up. “Denver is up high, like these books. Topeka is down here, flat on the table. Can you see the difference?”

  The boys nodded again.

  “Are we ever going to see her again?” Karl asked, his eyes filling up with tears.

  “Of course you are,” Sarah said, giving him a hug.

  “I heard Father tell Mother that we’ll visit Topeka twice a year,” James said.

  “My goodness, James. You’ve certainly been overhearing a lot today,” Sarah said, mild reproof in her voice.

  “I don’t think I heard any secrets. Nothing was interesting enough for that,” he replied, and she laughed. They’d better come for visits—she’d miss them horribly. Of course, the train did go both ways, but at the moment, the thought of a return trip to Denver was more than she could face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Denver, Colorado

  1875

  It didn’t take Sarah more than a few minutes to pack. She’d only brought one bag, after all. Aunt Clasby was another story. She’d chosen enough things to fill an entire trunk, even though Felicity promised to send the rest within a week if returning to Topeka solved the problem. It seemed Aunt Clasby just couldn’t live without three weeks’ worth of clothing, so that’s what Felicity packed.

  The good-byes were heartbreaking. Karl cried as though his little spirit had been ripped in two. Charlie and James tried to stay calm, but Sarah knew how hard it was for them too.

  Aunt Clasby wiped her eyes with a handkerchief she’d already drenched through with her tears. “Write to me all the time, and draw me some pictures, all
right?” She held out her arms, and all three boys ran into them.

  John cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but we need to be going. The train will be leaving soon.”

  Aunt Clasby nodded, then allowed John to take her arm and escort her down the walk and to the waiting carriage. It took a little bit of effort to get her boosted up into the seat, but he managed it.

  Sarah said her own good-byes to the boys, gave Felicity a hug, and tried not to dribble a tear on little Charity’s face. She wished John’s work didn’t keep them in Denver—it would be wonderful if they could somehow be prevailed upon to move to Topeka as well. That wasn’t at all likely, though, so she pushed the thought from her mind.

  The boys waved with all their might as the carriage drove down the street, and Aunt Clasby’s tears started afresh. “Those children mean the world to me,” she said through her sniffles. “And they’re growing up so fast—I’m going to miss everything. Oh, I hope Dr. Wayment’s wrong about this altitude sickness and I can come back.”

  “If it’s not the altitude sickness, it might be something worse,” Sarah reminded her. “We want him to be right because that means you’ll get well again.”

  “I suppose there’s that. I’m just going to miss everyone so much.” Aunt Clasby reached out and slapped John’s arm. “You take good care of them, you hear?”

  “I will, Mother,” he said, amusement in his voice.

  When they reached the train station, Sarah saw Dr. Wayment there waiting for them. He helped John give Aunt Clasby a hand down, and together, they walked her over to the train. “The porter will bring a ramp, since the stairs are a bit steep for someone who’s been as ill as she’s been,” Dr. Wayment explained, and a moment later, the porter did come with a long plank of wood. With the doctor on one side and Sarah on the other, they got her on the train and situated while John took care of the luggage.

  “Why don’t you try to sleep?” Sarah patted Aunt Clasby’s hand. “It would make the trip go by faster.”

  “I most likely will, but I can’t stop thinking about the children,” she replied. “Someday, when your children are grown and they move away, you’ll see what I mean. It’s hard letting go.” She turned and scowled ferociously. “I suppose you’ll do the same thing eventually, and then where will I be?”