“Nate, how nice to see you.” It seemed to him Mrs. Penrose always greeted visitors as if they’d just arrived for tea, no matter the time of day or night.
Her eyes grew round at his agitated appearance. “One of the children sick?” She opened the door wider to allow him to enter.
“Is the doc at home, Mrs. Penrose?”
“He just went up to bed, but I’ll get him. Who’s sick?”
“My wife fell getting out of the bathtub, and I think she may have broken a rib.”
At her raised eyebrows, he added, “I just got married yesterday.” He smiled and nodded when she congratulated him.
“Oh dear,” she tsked. “You just wait right here.”
Nate paced in the front room, running his fingers through his hair. Mumbled conversation came from upstairs along with the sound of footsteps, and dresser drawers opening and closing. Soon the doctor came down the stairs, buttoning his cuff.
“Trouble at home, son?” He took his hat from the hook by the door, and picked up his black bag next to it.
“Yes sir, my wife fell getting out of the tub and she seems to have hurt her side.” He hurried to catch up with the doctor who was already headed down the front steps.
Dr. Penrose shouted over his shoulder. “You ride on home, and I’ll follow in my buggy. Just keep her quiet till I get there.”
Dear Lord, can’t you please let me pass out again?
Once she’d awoken from her initial fall, Angel tried to move, to at least get off the chair, but the pain in her ribs was so strong it took her breath away, so she stayed still. She panicked at the thought she might have damaged a lung.
Now she lay on the floor, finding it hard to believe she’d created another crisis. Matt kept patting her on the arm, telling her everything would be all right. The poor child must think her a complete dolt, and if he had voiced that opinion out loud, she would have been forced to agree.
Voices cut through her thoughts, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps coming up the porch steps. Nate burst through the door, with Mrs. Darby close behind. The woman hurried to where she lay on the floor and bent over.
She turned to Matt. “I saw your papa rush out of the house earlier, so I thought I’d come over to help. What happened?” Mrs. Darby pulled the blanket further up on Angel’s shoulders.
“Papa said she fell getting out of the tub,” Matt reported. “I mopped up the rest of the water so no one else can slip.”
“Thanks, son, I appreciate that.” Nate’s voice filled the room, and for some odd reason it calmed her, reassured her.
“Where’s Dr. Penrose?” Matt’s eyes darted toward the window.
“He’ll be here soon.” Nate looked down at Angel. “He’s following in his buggy.”
If she wished hard enough, maybe she could simply disappear, similar to the fairy tales she read as a little girl. Poof! All gone.
Here she was sprawled on the floor, naked except for the blanket, with Nate, Matt and Mrs. Darby all standing in a circle, staring at her. And her drying hair still had soap in it.
Nate went down on one knee beside Angel and brushed the wet, stringy hair from her face. The sound of a buggy approaching announced the arrival of Dr. Penrose. The doctor strode through the front door and into the parlor just as Luke and John came down the stairs, clutching each other’s hands.
“What’s going on?” Luke asked as they wandered over to the crowd.
“What are you two doing up?” Nate snapped. “Go back to bed.”
“Why is our new mama laying on the floor?” John wanted to know.
“Did she throw up again, Papa?” Luke looked up at Nate with wide eyes.
Angel whimpered softly.
Jesus, take me now.
“All right, everyone out of my way so I can work.” Dr. Penrose waved his arms around and knelt alongside her. “Tell me what happened, Mrs. Hale.”
Heat rose in her face and she blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. She whispered to the doctor. As she did, the crowd surrounding her shuffled closer so they could hear.
After listening to her story, Dr. Penrose turned. “I want everyone out of the room except her husband. I have to examine this woman.”
Chapter 6
After Dr. Penrose announced he would examine Angel, Mrs. Darby ushered the boys into the kitchen with promises of milk and bread with jam. Without fanfare, the doctor drew the blanket down to Angel’s waist. Nate took her hand when she flashed him a startled look in reaction to the doctor’s treatment.
Angel closed her eyes, and chewed on her lip. Sensing her discomfort, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. As he watched the doctor poke and prod, Nate attempted to maintain his composure, but his mouth had gone dry and his manhood stiff.
She was everything he’d imagined. Perfect white skin, with generous, rose tipped breasts, more than enough to fill his hands. To the right of her left nipple was a small mole. He imagined circling his tongue over that mole, and working his way over to the nipple to suckle. And then he would move his lips further down, circling her . . . He stopped when he realized what he was doing. For heaven’s sake, the woman was lying on the floor in pain.
After pushing gently on her ribs once more, Dr. Penrose announced Angel had bruised her ribs, and possibly cracked one. The bruises didn’t seem to be affecting her lungs, though. Nate didn’t know about Angel’s lungs, but he was having a hell of a hard time sucking in a lungful of air himself.
He and the doctor helped her to sit so he could wrap her ribs. Wrapping slowly and carefully, the doctor took his time, all the while leaving her bosom exposed. By this time Nate’s chest and back were covered with sweat. And he kept shifting his position to rearrange his parts.
“Now, Mrs. Hale, you are not to do anything strenuous for at least a week.” Dr. Penrose turned to Nate. “I know you’re newly married, son, but this woman cannot move her ribs until they heal. And being an intelligent man, I’m sure you know what I mean.” The doctor slapped him on his shoulder.
Nate nodded and mentally mumbled curses about bathtubs and soapy water.
“Get her into bed.” The doctor rolled his sleeves down. “I’ll leave something you can give her every few hours for pain. But don’t let her take it for more than a day or so, only until the worst of the pain passes.” He re-packed his satchel as he spoke. “By taking it easy, she should be fine in about a week. Bring her by my office after she’s had time to heal so I can take another look.”
Dr. Penrose eased her back down, pulled the blanket up again, and snapped his bag closed. Nate walked the doctor to the door, their heads bent together.
Angel winced as she shifted. She wouldn’t be able to move easily for days.
“Honey, I want to get the boys back into bed before I help you upstairs. You’ll be all right for a while?” Nate stood in the doorframe to the parlor, one shoulder leaning against it. Amidst the pain, a warm feeling washed over her at the endearment he’d used. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes again, tears still leaking.
Nate ushered the boys upstairs, and Mrs. Darby took her leave, with promises of returning the next morning to help out.
Angel must have fallen asleep, because it seemed only minutes before Nate returned and bent over her. “I’m going to help you up, and I’ll try real hard not to hurt you.”
“Could you get my nightgown first?”
“Oh, sure. In your trunk?”
She bit her lower lip. “I placed it on the dresser before I took my bath.”
After a few minutes, he returned with her white cotton nightgown, helped her to sit up, and eased the gown over her head. “I think it’s better if you walk, with me helping you, instead of trying to carry you.”
Slowly, with his arm wrapped around her waist, they made their way u
pstairs. A fine sheen of sweat had appeared on her pale face. Nate settled her in the bed, propped up on the pillows he had arranged.
“I’m really sorry,” she panted.
Nate shrugged. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yes, there is. I’m a calamity. I’ve been nothing but trouble since I got off the stagecoach. You must be so sorry you ever sent for a wife.” She looked up at him as one tear tracked down her cheek.
“No, honey, it’s okay. Honest.” He wiped the tear with his knuckle. “Now, you need to rest. Let me give you the pain medication Dr. Penrose left so you can sleep.” He took a small brown bottle out of his pants pocket and placed it on the dresser.
Angel sniffed, two more tears escaping. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red and dripping. She looked so pathetic, he pushed aside his disappointment at the loss of his wedding night. He headed downstairs to the kitchen and got a spoon. When he came back, Angel had slid lower, and was lying flat on her back.
He filled the spoon with the liquid from the bottle, and holding up her head, offered her the medicine. He used his finger to wipe a bit off the corner of her mouth. Then he impulsively bent down and kissed the spot he just wiped.
Fixing the pillow under her head, he said, “Go to sleep, Angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Nate softly closed the door and headed downstairs. A week of celibacy? With a woman in his bed who possessed the fascinating breasts he’d just ogled?
Nate poured a brandy, and after blowing out the lamps, stared out the window at the darkness while he sipped his drink.
It head been a truly memorable night, but not for the reasons he planned. He downed the rest of his brandy and set the glass in the sink.
Married only two days, and already his wife was driving him to drink.
Angel awoke with something nudging her neck. However slight that annoyance was, it was soon replaced by a painful throbbing in her side. Memories of yesterday’s accident, her embarrassment, and the doctor’s visit, washed over her.
The nudges began to feel good, and the sensations it caused somewhat diminished the pain. She kept her eyes closed, and enjoyed the feeling. Warmth spread through her, tingles swirled around her body. Her eyes shot open. The soft and gentle touches came from the man lying alongside her.
“Nate?” she said, frowning.
“Um,” came the reply. He was still asleep. She looked over her shoulder and his blond head nestled right next to hers. Further down, his mouth placed small kisses on her neck. Still feeling drowsy from the medicine, she sighed and fell back asleep.
The sun sat high the next time she awoke. But this time the rest of the bed remained empty. Her ribs thumped in rhythm with her heart, but since she needed to visit the privy, she sat up, and reached for the headboard to steady herself as a wave of dizziness swept over her. The pain left her breathless, and sweat beaded her forehead.
“Mrs. Hale, what are you doing?”
Startled, another pain shot through her ribs as she jerked. Mrs. Darby hustled around the bed with a look of horror on her kindly face.
“You can’t do anything strenuous for at least a week, Dr. Penrose said.”
“I’m sorry, but I must visit the privy.”
“No, dear. The privy is a long walk outside.” The woman eased her back down. “I’ll bring you a flat pan you can use.”
Angel gasped. “No, I think I can make it.”
“Now, don’t you worry. I nursed many a patient in my day, and this is just part of it.” Mrs. Darby spoke briskly as she hurried from the room, and returned in a few minutes with a pan that she deftly slid under Angel’s bottom. Ignoring her embarrassment, the woman handed her a cloth, and when she was finished, took the pan away. Angel eased back down, black dots dancing in front of her eyes at the movement.
“What can I get you for breakfast?” Mrs. Darby asked as she came back into the room.
“I’m not really hungry, thank you anyway.”
“We can’t have any of that. Dr. Penrose left medicine for you to take while you’re in pain. You must eat something or it may upset your stomach.” Mrs. Darby stood at the foot of the bed, hands clasped at her waist, and waited. It didn’t appear she would relent.
“Well, all right, maybe some bread and tea.”
“I’ll get it for you right now, and after you eat, I can brush your hair and help you wash up.”
The house was far too quiet. “Where is everybody?”
“At church.”
Nathan Hale got five children fed, dressed, and off to church? The man was a marvel. He’d sent for a bride to help with the chores and children, and so far all she’d done was make more work for him. The woman who used to assist with his family now took care of her instead.
“Mr. Hale can certainly handle things quite well. I wonder why he felt the need for a wife.” Angel hated the self-pity in her voice.
Mrs. Darby tsked. “Don’t you fret. You’ll be up and about in no time and able to take over the chores. Believe me, he needs the help.” She winked as she left the room.
If that was meant to comfort her, it didn’t. He’d get no more help when she was up and about than he had now. At least her injury gave her time to consider her situation and try to find a solution.
Nate steered his wagon into the lot next to The First Methodist Church. Mark and the twins hopped down and scattered as they spotted friends. Matt jiggled Julia-Rose and tapped his foot as he waited for Nate to take his sister from his arms.
Although several people congratulated Nate as he headed to the front door, the good wishes were mixed with questions about his missing wife. “Not feeling well,” seemed to satisfy most of the curiosity.
He herded the boys together, and they entered the coolness of the church. More curious stares. He nodded and smiled until his face grew stiff. Once they settled and the Pastor began the service, he wiped his brow and relaxed.
The last notes of “Amazing Grace” reverberated in the air as the congregation began to file out at the end of the service. As he held Julia-Rose against his shoulder with one hand, Nate ushered the boys out of the pew. He did more nodding and smiling at friends as they made their way out of the church.
“Where’s your lovely wife this morning?” Pastor Dunn asked as he shook Nate’s hand.
The line stopped, conversation ceased, all ears tuned. “She had a little accident. Not serious,” he added quickly when he saw the preacher’s expression. “She slipped on water and hurt her ribs.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Poor Mrs. Hale. It would have been nice to see her again, and introduce her to the congregation.”
“Our new mama was naked!” Luke piped up.
“Yeah, and guess what? She threw up on Papa!” John chimed in, wide-eyed.
Smiling lamely, Nate nodded at the preacher, and nudged the boys forward.
He continued to take congratulations from those who had heard about the marriage, along with comments about his injured wife. Twice he had to put his hands over his sons’ mouths to keep them from elaborating on their family life. He would have been better off staying at home this morning.
Eventually, they made their way to the buggy. Realizing Mark was missing, he left Julia-Rose in Matt’s care and headed toward a group of boys under a large tree on the side of the church.
“Yeah, and Matt said when they got downstairs, she was lying on the floor. Naked!” Wide-eyed, Mark held cupped hands out from his chest and continued. “Matt said she has really big . . .”
“Mark!” Nate grabbed the boy by the collar.
Jerking his head up, and blushing furiously, Mark wrenched himself from his father’s grip. He muttered, "Gotta go," and ran toward the buggy.
Mrs. Darby pushed the door open with her impressive rear end, and turned with a tray of f
ood in her hands.
“Here we are, dear.” She placed the tray on the bed. “Bread with jam, and tea.”
Angel winced as she attempted to pick up the tea. Since the medicine had worn off, her side throbbed even when she didn’t move.
“My goodness.” Mrs. Darby settled in the chair alongside the bed. “You have certainly had a hard time since you left home.”
As Angel sipped the hot, fragrant tea, her mind filled with thoughts of how much harder it would become once she was able to move around again, and Nate discovered her stepmother’s deception. He seemed like such a nice man, and tears gathered in her eyes when she considered the disappointment he would feel, once he found out.
“Now, now, dear.” Mrs. Darby patted her hand. “Don’t you trouble yourself. I’ll be here to take care of things until you’re on your feet again. Then you can take over, and things will work out, you’ll see.”
Angel put down the cup and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. “You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Things won’t ever work out. I can’t do anything. I shouldn’t even be here.”
“So you got off to a bad start. These things happen.” Mrs. Darby continued to pat her hand and murmur encouragement. When Angel’s tears failed to subside, the older woman leaned close. “What’s the matter, dear? You seem very distressed. Is there something in particular that’s troubling you?”
Angel wiped her eyes, and attempted to take a deep breath, but pain in her ribs stopped her short. “When I say I can’t do anything, I mean I really can’t do anything.”
The older woman frowned, her expression questioning.
Angel sighed. “I was raised with servants. I have never made a bed, cooked a meal, or cleaned a house in my whole life.”
She wiped her eyes with cold fingers. “I’m a fake. And that nice man with all those children, at this very moment in church, who married me in good faith, is going to be so mad when he finds out.”
An Angel in the Mail Page 7
