NoRegretsColeNC

by Christina Cole

  “You’re damned lucky to be alive,” Abner Kellerman informed him.

  “I didn’t ask you to save my life.”

  “Don’t make me regret doing it.” The doctor glanced toward his wife. “We’ve done all we can for now. He’s fully covered. Nothing’s exposed.” His gaze swept over Willie to affirm his words. “Tell Hattie to come back in. She’ll sit with him tonight.”

  Hattie.

  Her name alone soothed Willie’s soul. Gone were the garish dreams, the nightmare of confusion. The aching in his body dulled to a weariness and as the dark-haired girl settled into a chair beside him, Willie closed his eyes. He was at peace once more.

  * * * *

  As the first rays of sunlight crept through the curtained window, Hattie twisted her hands in her lap and fought back nausea. Maybe it came from the pervasive odor of antiseptic that clung to the walls, or maybe the stuffiness of the air and the gentle warmth from the corner stove brought the sickness on.

  Actually, she could blame neither.

  Throughout the long night, as she sat beside Willie’s bed, listening to his restless breaths, and now and then checking his temperature, she’d given her life a lot of thought. Despite Dr. Kellerman’s encouraging words, and despite her own desire to help others, the events of the previous day had shaken Hattie to the core.

  Even the simple task of sitting up with her patient left her weak and worried. Time to face the inevitable truth. She wasn’t strong enough for this job. She lacked the emotional strength and the stoicism Dr. Kellerman often spoke of, nor did she possess courage and fortitude enough to smile in the face of adversity.

  She’d come to Sunset believing nursing would be so easy. Little had she known how difficult the task would be.

  Letting go of a sigh, Hattie closed her eyes, leaned back in the chair, and wondered how anyone could bear to give bad news. Earlier, Dr. Kellerman had briefed her on Willie’s condition. The fever meant his body wasn’t healing. Infection might have set in. Willie could still lose his leg.

  The very thought of seeing a person’s limb amputated sent Hattie reeling from the chair, desperate to reach the chamber pot in the corner before she retched all over the floor.

  Heaven help her, she couldn’t do this job.

  She grabbed the chamber pot just in time.

  “Miss Richards?”

  At first she thought she imagined the feeble voice coming from the bed. When Willie called her name a second time, she clanged the lid shut on the porcelain pot and wiped a hand across her mouth.

  “Yes, I’m here.” She choked back another wave of nausea.

  “I can’t see you. Where are you?” The words sounded as desperate as Hattie felt.

  “I’m right here, Mr. Morse.”

  “Are you all right?”

  She closed her eyes, struggled to regain her composure, and then with what she hoped to be a bright smile beaming from her face, she opened her eyes again and marched directly toward the bed.

  “Yes, of course. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s ailing, sir.” She added a cheery lilt to her voice.

  “You were sick. I heard you.”

  Hattie’s laugh sounded thin and tinny to her ears. She shook her head. “Why, it must have been your imagination, Mr. Morse. I’m perfectly fine, and I’m here to take care of you. We’ll have you up and about as quickly as possible.”

  Dear Lord, it’s not right to lie. I can’t do this.

  She turned away, knowing her face would reveal all her doubts, every misgiving. Most likely Willie Morse could guess the seriousness of his condition by the grim expression her attempt at a smile couldn’t hide.

  “So, I’m going to live, after all?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She spoke more confidently now. Fevers could kill, but if worst came to worst, Dr. Kellerman would step in at once to do whatever he must. He wouldn’t hesitate to take the young man’s leg in order to save his life. Hattie’s stomach churned again. She hurried to the bed and tucked the covers snugly around Willie. “You’ll be jumping up out of that bed in no time, doing a jig or two.”

  His eyes glistened. “No, I won’t. Don’t lie to me, Miss Richards. I know I don’t deserve much, but I’d rather have the bitter truth than a lot of sugar-coated lies.”

  She swallowed, suddenly unable to get out a word. When she finally managed to speak, it was only to say, “I’ll call Dr. Kellerman.”

  “No, I want to hear it from you.”

  “I’m not a physician. I’m not qualified—”

  “You’re a nurse.”

  “Not quite. I’m only in training.” She turned toward the door again.

  Willie’s hand clamped over her wrist, refusing to let her leave. “That doesn’t matter. You’re here, and I need to know the truth. I’m going to live, you say, but what sort of life will I have? Will I be able to walk again? Will I be able to ride? Will I be able to lead a regular life?”

  “No one can say for certain.” Hattie reached out to stroke Willie’s brow. His grip on her arm loosened, and her own nerves eased, as well. In some odd way, comforting him brought reassurance to her. Speaking the truth brought a sense of peace.

  The future could never be foretold with accuracy, and even the best-trained physicians could do little more than guess at medical outcomes. As both Dr. Kellerman and his wife had said many times, survival lay not with the doctors who treated, but with the patients and with God.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” Willie asked. “Be honest with me.”

  “All right.” Hattie drew near the bed. “The worst that could happen is that you’ll lose your leg.” She saw him wince, but went on. “You’ve got a fever, so it’s likely an infection has set in. Dr. Kellerman will do everything possible to prevent it from spreading, but there’s no way to tell if his procedures will be effective or not.”

  Willie nodded. “Thank you,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “I suspected as much. I didn’t think you’d have the courage to tell me.”

  “To be honest, neither did I.” Sinking down into the chair at Willie’s bedside, Hattie let the tension drain from her body. “All the same, I think lying is a horrible thing. I’ve never been very good at it.”

  “No, I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

  “Why do you say that? You don’t even know me.”

  “Yes, I do.” Willie shifted enough to look directly at her. “I know you’re kind. I know you’re gentle. You have a good heart.”

  The heat coursing through Hattie’s body rose to her cheeks. “You don’t need to flatter me. I’m only doing my job, Mr. Morse.”

  “Of course.” He leaned his head back on the pillow. “Yes, of course, you’re only doing your job.”

  “Which reminds me,” Hattie said, jumping from the chair and rushing to stand at the bed again. “I was supposed to tell you this yesterday evening so you wouldn’t be concerned, but then, well, when I realized you’d broken out in a fever, I completely forgot, and…”

  Willie stirred.

  “…oh, dear, I’m rattling on something awful, and I’m disturbing you.” The nervousness returned full-force. Hattie bustled about putting the room in order. “What I’m supposed to let you know is that we’re sending word to your mother today to notify her of your accident. I know we should have done it yesterday, but—”

  “No, don’t tell my mother.”

  The sharpness—and sudden strength—in Willie’s voice caused Hattie to spin around.

  “We must. She needs to know where you are. She needs to know what’s happened to you.”

  “I don’t want to worry her.”

  “I’m sure she’s worried enough already, don’t you think?”

  “I doubt she’s worried at all. I haven’t seen my mother in months, Miss Richards. She threw me out on my ear, if you must know.”

  Hattie hid a gasp. Although his remark left her wondering, she refused to pry. Her role was to provide care, not advice and counsel.

  �
��All the same, she’s still your mother. She has a right to know.”

  “No, I don’t want anyone telling her—” His words failed as he choked and coughed.

  Hattie rushed to get a glass of water. “Here, drink this. Slowly,” she instructed. His agitation upset her greatly, but she couldn’t skirt around the facts. “Please, listen to me, Mr. Morse.” She placed a hand at his cheek. “Dr. Kellerman has already written the letter, informing her of the accident, and explaining your condition to her. I have it here.” She patted the pocket of her uniform. “I’m supposed to post it as soon as possible this morning so it doesn’t miss the mail service.”

  “I’m asking you not to post that letter. Please.” He looked up into Hattie’s eyes with an expression she couldn’t decipher.

  She waited. Willie said nothing more, offered no further explanations. But she saw a look of hope shining in his eyes. Hattie could do so little for him. She had no way to ease his pain and suffering, but perhaps she could honor this simple request. And, perhaps by doing so, she could set Willie on the road to recovery. So much depended upon him, after all.

  “All right.” Hattie nodded. “I won’t tell your mother, but in return, you’ll do exactly as Dr. Kellerman says. You’ll follow all of his instructions, be an exemplary patient, and you’ll do everything you can to get well.”

  Willie tilted his head and looked at her. “You’re bribing me?”

  She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. “Yes, I suppose I am. Or perhaps we should think of it as negotiation.” A smile rose quickly to her lips. “Of course, if you don’t want to follow the doctor’s orders, then I’ll have no choice but to carry out his instructions and inform your mother of your whereabouts.” She bent forward. “I’m putting my career at risk if I do otherwise, you realize.”

  “You’d be willing to take that risk for me? All right. It’s a deal.” He spoke quickly and stretched out a hand.

  Hattie grasped hold of it and bit her lip. Nurses weren’t supposed to withhold information, and they probably weren’t supposed to make deals with or bribe their patients. If Dr. Kellerman found out, he’d probably boot her right out onto the street. She wouldn’t be allowed to train with him any longer. She could also bid farewell to any hope of gaining admission to a real nursing school.

  Perhaps it didn’t matter now. She already knew she’d never make a very good nurse. But she did mean to see Willie Morse back on his feet again. He might never dance a jig, but he’d be able to walk, and if it took a slightly unethical bargain to make it happen, so be it.

  * * * *

  Later that week, as Hattie passed by Dr. Kellerman’s library one evening, she waved to him through the open doorway. Following his usual routine, he’d retreated to the reading room soon after dinner to enjoy a fine pipe and peruse a good book.

  When he called out to her, gesturing for her to join him, she quickly complied. The library had become her favorite place. She came there often to study. Despite its dark-paneled walls and heavy furnishings, the room never failed to brighten her mood. Through the thick, leather-bound volumes on its tall shelves, it imparted knowledge, brought hope to the suffering, and always left her with an optimistic outlook. Learning was the one thing at which she excelled.

  She stepped into the room, letting the deep purple shadows of evening wrap around her, not with a sense of gloom or foreboding but with a feeling of comfort and accomplishment at day’s end.

  Only Hattie’s day was not yet done.

  “Are you planning to sit up with Mr. Morse tonight?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  He closed the book in his hand and set it aside. “I’m not sure it’s necessary now. He’s making good progress. I’m pleased with how quickly he’s healing.”

  Hattie smiled, hoping that perhaps her little agreement with the injured young man might be a contributing factor in his recovery.

  “Are you saying that the danger is past, sir?” She held her breath, eager for good news.

  The doctor, however, shook his head. “It’s a bit too soon to say for certain, but,” he added, “I think we can be cautiously optimistic.” Hattie’s concern must have been obvious. He spoke again, his voice losing a bit of its strait-laced professional tone, becoming warmer and friendlier. “Don’t fret. I think he’ll be just fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, sir.”

  He tapped the bowl of his pipe against a small pewter tray, a receptacle for ashes. “I am surprised, though, about one thing.” He leaned slightly forward. Deep furrows lined his broad forehead.

  “Yes?” Her curiosity piqued, Hattie waited.

  “No one’s come to see him.”

  “From what I understand, sir, he hasn’t made many friends here.” She thought again of the hateful taunts and jeers that had reached her ears when the accident first happened. No! her heart shouted back, he was not better off dead as some of those self-righteous old men claimed. “Oh, Benjamin Brooks did come by earlier today, but Willie was sleeping.” Hattie brightened. “Perhaps he’ll drop by again tomorrow,” she said in an artificially cheerful voice.

  The physician puffed at his pipe. “Doesn’t it strike you odd, Miss Richards, that his mother hasn’t been here?”

  “She lives in Denver,” Hattie reminded him.

  “Which is only a few hours away. There’s a regular stage service between here and there, as well as daily mail delivery. I’d expected her to come as soon as she got the news.”

  Hattie froze.

  “Well,” Dr. Kellerman continued, “I suppose it’s none of my business anyway. She’ll probably be arriving shortly, don’t you think?” Seated in his chair, he peered up at Hattie who stood nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Perhaps the letter got lost, sir,” she suggested in a quiet voice.

  “Lost?” The man nodded. “Why, yes, you’re probably right. Letters do get lost all the time, don’t they? That would certainly explain why Mrs. Morse hasn’t come to see her son.”

  Relieved that the doctor had so quickly accepted the idea, she smiled and bobbed a curtsy his way.

  “If there’s nothing else, Dr. Kellerman, I’ll be on my way now.” She motioned toward the door.

  “No, nothing else on my mind. As for our patient, I hardly think it’s necessary for you to sit with him all night now. If you’ll check in on him from time to time, that should be sufficient.”

  “All right, sir.”

  “It would do you good, I think, to get a bit of rest, Miss Richards.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that.”

  “And tomorrow,” he said, his gaze never wavering, “post the letter to his mother. She deserves to know.”

  Hattie pressed her lips together and made a hasty retreat. How had the doctor figured her out so easily? Obviously she had no skill at deception.

  As she reached the doorway, she stopped, her heart thudding with dread. What must he think of her? Overcome with guilt, she spun around and burst into the library again. Dr. Kellerman looked up from his book, one eyebrow rising in surprise. Hattie clasped her hands together. “Dr. Kellerman, let me explain, please.”

  “What’s there to explain, Miss Richards?” He directed her to a chair, but she shook her head and remained standing.

  She reached into the pocket of her skirt and slowly withdrew the letter. With trembling hands, she gave it to the doctor. “He asked me not to send it, sir. I should have spoken to you about it, but it was quite early that morning. I didn’t think it right to disturb you then. I meant to discuss it with you later in the day, but…”

  “Somehow, you forgot? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  Hattie fought back tears as she looked up. “Yes, but I can’t get the words to come out. I’m terrible at telling lies, Dr. Kellerman. Please, don’t think I’m in the habit of being untruthful. I was raised to always tell the truth. Honesty, you know—”

  “—is the best policy,” he said along with her. “Indeed,
it is. You should have come to me.”

  “Yes, sir, I realize that now. But he begged me not to do it.”

  “And you willingly agreed?”

  “I did, sir.”

  Dr. Kellerman turned the letter over in his big hands, and then gave it back to the distressed young woman standing before him. “Watch your step, Miss Richards. I’m concerned that this letter was never posted, but I’m even more concerned by how easily Willie persuaded you to go against your better judgment.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re young, you’re inexperienced, and you insist on seeing the good in people. That latter quality might be counted as a virtue, but combined with the former two, I’m afraid it might be very dangerous.” He tapped the letter in her hand. “Do the right thing, Miss Richards.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll post it first thing in the morning.”

  Chapter Three

  He’d been there over a week, Willie reckoned. It was hard to keep track of the days, especially since he did little more than sleep, but the rest was doing his body good. He was growing stronger now, staying awake more often. Hattie Mae was giving him fewer doses of laudanum, too.

  As he stirred from dream to consciousness, Willie perceived a presence in the room. He kept his eyes closed. Since being laid up and barely able to move, his various senses had grown amazingly keen. Not only could he detect a presence, he could tell at once that it was not Hattie. She had a lightness about her, an ethereal quality that made him think of gossamer wings and morning dew.

  By contrast, this was a dark, heavy presence.

  Willie let out a breath and opened his eyes.

  “A message came for you this morning.” Abner Kellerman stood framed by the doorway.

  “I don’t know anybody who’d be sending me any messages.”

  “It’s from your mother.” The doctor crossed the room and held out an envelope.