Elizabeth looked behind her, trying to meet Nick's eyes. He stopped pacing, but his green eyes, made bluer by the color of his shirt, still looked serious. Inside herself, the dread grew colder. She clutched her locket for comfort and glanced toward the bed. Please, God....
Dr. Cameron straightened. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned everyone out of the room. They all stepped onto the landing. The doctor's concerned gray gaze first met Pamela's eyes, then John's. He cleared his throat. "She has influenza."
Pamela gasped. John pulled his wife close, lowering his chin to the top of her head.
Elizabeth's knees grew weak. A fleeting longing for the shelter of Nick's arms went through her. She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. An influenza epidemic had killed Pamela's sister, Mary. Then a later epidemic had taken the lives of Elizabeth's parents. And Richard.
"I hate to have to tell you this." Dr. Cameron briefly looked down at the floor before his eyes came back to their worried faces. "There are several other cases in town, and the Meager baby died of it yesterday."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A few days later, Pamela took her hand off Lizzy's forehead and straightened. "She's still feverish," she said to Elizabeth. "But at least she's finally asleep."
Both women gazed at the sleeping child. Lizzy had suffered a restless night, tossing fretfully and whimpering for her mother whenever Pamela left the room. But now the fan of her long eyelashes hid the dark circles under her eyes and, deep in slumber, the child looked peaceful.
Pamela put both hands in the small of her back and stretched. "Beth, I don't know what I'd do without you here. But what about Genia?"
"I'm not going anywhere until Lizzy's well."
"Is it selfish to say I'm grateful?" Pamela reached for Elizabeth's hand and patted it.
"I'm the selfish one. I'd fret myself to cinders, worrying about Lizzy ... about you. Being away ... not being able to do anything but pray."
"Do you realize it's Sunday?"
"Is it really?" Elizabeth asked with a weary shake of her head. "The days have all run together. Well, we know the Nortons won't be driving out today."
"They have been kind haven't they? There's so much sickness, and they're not sparing themselves any more than the doctor is."
"I'm ashamed of my first opinion of them." Elizabeth kept her voice low. "I thought him rigid and controlling, and she a downtrodden wife. I was wrong to judge. They're truly good people."
"I'd give anything to be in church with my whole family sitting in the pew beside me." Pamela swept her hand across an imaginary pew.
"Maybe by next Sunday." Yet, even as she spoke, Elizabeth knew Lizzy wouldn't be well enough to attend church next Sunday, or maybe not even for a month of Sundays.
"Caleb's coming today." Pamela flashed Elizabeth a tired smile, the first Elizabeth had seen on her friend's drawn face during the three days vigil. "You'd better freshen up and put on a nice dress."
Elizabeth smoothed the rumpled apron, one of Pamela's, covering her blue calico dress. Hardly the appearance she wanted to present to a gentleman caller. Surely Caleb would understand. He must know she'd been nursing Lizzy, and the child was special to him.
"Caleb will just have to take me as I am."
Pamela shook her head. "It will be good for you to go for a drive, Beth. You've been cooped up here too long."
"What about you? You've barely slept all night."
"I couldn't have slept anyway. But, now that Lizzy's finally peaceful, Dawn can sit with her so I can get some rest."
"All right." With a last glance at her sleeping goddaughter, Elizabeth withdrew and walked down the hall to her room.
Opening the armoire door, she looked over her wardrobe and shrugged. Except for that disastrous baking day, Caleb had never seen her wearing anything but her good clothes, with her hair carefully coiffed. Now, because Dawn sat with Lizzy and couldn't help her dress, Caleb would just have to see her in something simple. A clean shirtwaist and skirt would have to do.
Elizabeth undid the buttons of her dress, slipped it down over her hips, stepped out of it, then unbuttoned her shirtwaist. The room felt so close and hot, she wished she could take off her corset and put on something cooler. Maybe one of those loose-fitting Mother Hubbard dresses Annie and Dawn wore. She shook her head, amazed at her own thoughts. She'd been scandalized by the very idea of those dresses--yet here she actually considered wearing one.
Elizabeth poured tepid water from the pitcher into the ewer, dipped a cloth. She ran it over her face, neck, and arms, wishing for reviving cold water.
Her thoughts slid back to the night at the river with Nick. How long ago it seemed. At times during the last tense three days, the memories would creep into her mind, sending warm tingles through her body, temporarily easing her fear for Lizzy, and lifting the tedium of the long, silent watches at the child's bedside.
What a good man Nick was--so patient with the children. Although he kept Mark and Sara occupied around the ranch or playing games with them, he'd also been in and out of Lizzy's room almost as much as the child's father.
Guilt pricked her. She shouldn't be thinking about Nick. Caleb would be arriving any minute. It seemed like forever since she'd seen him. Maybe today she'd get the chance to test the power of Caleb's kisses. She slowed the motion of the washcloth and smiled mischievously at her reflection in the mirror. She'd just have to be forward and make it happen. Too bad she couldn't arrange a midnight swim in the pool ... but perhaps after they were married....
When the crisis with Lizzy was over, she'd have to talk to Nick, although she didn't know what she'd say. It would be so much simpler if he didn't love her.
She pulled on a fine white cotton shirtwaist. The light material and lowered neckline made it the coolest one she owned. And the lace edging the bodice and sleeves fancied the plainness up a little. She stepped into a robin's egg-blue gingham skirt with little red flowers patterning the cloth.
She plucked out hairpins, then shook loose her hair. She briefly massaged her scalp, then brushed the long fall back into a bun. Stabbing the hairpins back in, she anchored the heavy mass in place and was done.
As she walked down the stairs, from outside the half-opened front door, she heard the sound of a buggy. Caleb's here! Her heart lightened, and her feet responded, increasing her pace the last few steps and out the door. After the past difficult days, she could hardly wait to see him.
On the porch she blinked to adjust her eyes to the bright sunlight. Dr. Cameron looked up from the reins he'd wrapped around the porch rail and smiled.
"Oh, I thought you were Mr. Livingston." The words escaped before Elizabeth realized it.
An uncomfortable look crossed the doctor's face. He picked up his black leather satchel with one hand, while the other tugged at the collar of his shirt.
"Hot day, isn't it, Miss Hamilton?"
"Like every other day has been." Whatever was wrong? Why does he look like that? She raised an eyebrow in inquiry, hoping he'd answer her unspoken question.
He tried to ignore it--stepping up onto the porch and setting his satchel on one of wicker chairs. Taking off his hat, he fanned his face, then ran his fingers through sweat-dampened auburn hair.
"Dr. Cameron, is anything the matter?"
"Well, lass," Dr. Cameron said, his voice sliding deeper into brogue. "Mr. Livingston was askin' me a lot of questions about Lizzy's illness."
Elizabeth smiled. "Lizzy's a favorite of his. He must be very worried about her."
"I'm sure he is, Lass." He swallowed, then his gaze finally met hers.
At the concern in his tired eyes, she took a small step back.
"I didna get the impression he'd be payin' the Carter ranch a visit ana time soon."
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and gave him a polite social smile. "I'm sure you must be mistaken."
Dr. Cameron heaved a huge sigh. "I hope I am, lass. I hope I am." He set his hat back on his head and picked up his satchel. "Now,
perhaps I could wash up before I see my patient."
"Of course." Elizabeth led the way into the house and down the hall to the kitchen. "Lizzy had a very restless night, but she's finally sleeping."
"That's to be expected."
"Pamela just laid down to steal some rest, and John's in the south pasture. Do you want me to wake her?"
"No, no." He shook his head. "Let the puir woman get some sleep. I know my way around."
Elizabeth walked back out to the porch. She sat down in a rocker and picked up the fan she'd left outside several days before. She felt more disturbed by Doctor Cameron's information than she'd wanted him to know. She shook her head and vigorously wafted her fan. No. Not Caleb. The doctor must have misunderstood.
He’ll come. I only have to wait. He’ll be here soon.
#
The sound of rapid hoofbeats woke her.
Caleb.
Elizabeth bolted upright in the rocker, then slumped back at the sight of the rider. Nick, not Caleb. Confusion flooded through her. She didn't know whether to feel glad or disappointed. She should be wishing for Caleb, but her heartbeat raced out of control at the sight of Nick's broad shoulders. Raising a quick hand to pat her hair, she checked to make sure no tendrils had strayed from the bun.
Nick reined Freckles in next to the doctor's horse. Dust covered the Appaloosa and powered Nick's tan shirt and pants. Pulling down the blue bandana from over his mouth, he grinned at her, and held up a bulging gunnysack.
She cocked her head. "What?"
"I had them sent from California." Anticipation glinted in his green eyes, lightening his tired, dusty face.
"What?" Elizabeth repeated, getting up and moving to the edge of the porch.
"Lemons."
"Oh, Nick." Elizabeth's voice choked, and tears welled in her eyes. "How wonderful. Oh, Pamela will be so pleased."
Getting any nourishment into Lizzy had proved almost impossible. Neither coaxing nor ordering had any effect. Yet, Dr. Cameron had been so firm about the necessity of Lizzy having plenty to drink that Pamela continued to struggle to get water or milk into her feverish daughter.
"How did you know I'd been wanting lemons for Lizzy?"
He slid out of the saddle and looped the Appaloosa's reins around the porch rail. Striding up the stairs and onto the porch, he placed the rough sack into her hands. He leaned forward until the brim of his hat almost touched her head. "Must have read your mind."
"Thank you," she whispered, wondering if she should give into the urge to drop the bag and throw her arms around Nick. She didn't care if her clothes became covered with dust. Nor did she care if it was broad daylight. She couldn't help herself; she wanted him to kiss her.
From the tenderness in his eyes, he wanted the same thing. The pause between them stretched out. Then Nick moved back several steps, glanced down, and tried to brush himself off. He gave her a rueful twist of his lips. "I reckon I'd better get cleaned up," he drawled, looking at her. He seemed to note the lace-edged shirtwaist, and a curious look flashed across his face.
Elizabeth answered his unspoken question. "I was waiting for Mr. Livingston, and I must have dozed off."
Nick's mouth tightened. He looked toward the horizon, squinting in the glare of the late afternoon sun. "He's late." He cocked an eyebrow.
"I know." She exhaled a slow breath. "Dr. Cameron doesn't seem to believe he's coming." Distress tinged her tone.
"Why?" Seeming to restrain a kick, Nick scuffed his boot across the wooden floor.
"Because of Lizzy's illness."
"That lowdown---" Nick caught himself, turned, and paced a few quick steps before coming back to face Elizabeth.
To say any words might bring on tears. Instead, hefting the laden sack between them, Elizabeth tried to smile. "I'll just take these to Annie. Why don't you go wash up so you can see Lizzy drink your lemonade?"
Footsteps sounded behind them. The doctor appeared in the doorway, carrying his hat in one hand and his bag in the other. At the sight of their anxious faces, he shook his head. "She didna wake up when I examined her." He placed his hat on his head. "I dinna have ta tell ye, I dinna like the look of the wee lass. She's fadin' away."
Elizabeth's racing heart thudded to a stop, and she had to catch her breath before she could speak. "Nick's brought some lemons to make lemonade for her." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Do you think it will help?"
"Aye, lass, I'm sure it will." Dr. Cameron tried to infuse some hope into his voice. "Now, I'd best be goin'. I've more patients yet to see. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Thank you, Dr. Cameron, for driving out every day to check on her," Elizabeth said, struggling to get the words out. "We're blessed to have a doctor like you."
For an instant, the doctor's weary face eased, then his expression settled back into careworn creases. He took her hand and squeezed it. "I can only do so much, lass. Sometimes it's not enough."
#
Elizabeth deposited the lemons with Annie and drifted outside to wait for Caleb. Unwilling to sit still, she paced back and forth, fanning herself to bring a hint of coolness to her face and neck. Her spirits, which had risen at Nick's gift, drooped. Heavy-hearted, with a knot growing ever tighter in her stomach, she forced herself to walk, hoping the exercise would banish her feelings of gloom.
After what had been a horribly gray time in her life, she'd emerged into the happy, blue skies of Montana. A new life and a new love.... Now, however, the intensity of the heat melted her resilience, and she had to fight giving way to tears. She loved Lizzy so much and couldn't bear the pain and fear she felt and saw on the faces of her dear friends.
Now there arose a new fear inside her. Richard's death had charred her heart to cinders. But with meeting Caleb ... a new love had blossomed from the ashes, only to be threatened with doubt. She wrapped her arms around herself. Where is Caleb? Why isn’t he here when I need him the most?
Annie called from the doorway, "Missy Erizabet."
Elizabeth turned.
The cook held a wicker tray, containing a glass pitcher of lemonade and several tall glasses. A slight smile crossed Annie's broad face, and she hefted the tray higher.
"Marvelous, Annie." Elizabeth crossed the porch, and lifted the pitcher off the tray. "I'm sure Lizzy will drink this." She relished the feel of the coldly beaded glass and lifted the decanter to touch her warm cheek. "It feels so good." She closed her eyes, sighed, then opened them.
A worried look crossed Annie's face. "Ice almost gone."
Elizabeth pulled the pitcher away from her cheek. "All the ice in the ice house is used up?"
"Too hot."
Another problem. Elizabeth shook her head to still the tears that wanted to spring forth, then squared her shoulders. Just be thankful for what we do have, she told herself. Today Lizzy has cold lemonade. "We'll worry about that later, Annie." She placed the pitcher back on the tray. "I'll take this upstairs and see if Lizzy's awake." She took the tray from Annie.
Stepping through the doorway, she paused for her eyes to adjust to the interior. The sound of rapid steps made her peer down the hall and smile when she recognized Nick.
With his hair slicked back and dangling in wet curls to his shoulders, he reminded her of their night together by the pool. Warmth crept into her cheeks. She hoped he wouldn't notice. At least he was wearing clothes. She lifted an eyebrow at his clean blue shirt. "That was fast."
"Dunked myself in the horse trough." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Didn't want to miss Lizzy drinkin' her lemonade."
"Horse trough!" Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.
He grinned at her. "Don't worry. I pumped in clean water."
"Here." Elizabeth handed him the tray. "You do the honors."
"Yes, ma'am." The words came out in a drawl and from the teasing light in his eyes, he expected a response.
Elizabeth held up a finger to stop him. "If you're going to ma'am me, I'm going to start calling you sir." She shook her finger. "Now, how would you l
ike that?"
"No, ma'am." He shook his head, spinning out the words. "I sure wouldn't like that, ma'am."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and started up the stairs. Entering Lizzy's room, she smiled at Pamela sitting in a chair next to the bedside. "You're awake."
Lizzy briefly opened her eyes, then closed them again. "We have a treat for you, dearest." Elizabeth waved her hand at Nick. "Look."
This time Lizzy kept her eyes open. A curious look flitted across her face; the first animation Elizabeth had seen Lizzy show for the last several days.
Pamela stood up and took a few steps away from the bed so they could approach the child.
Under Lizzy's solemn gaze, Nick placed the tray on a table next to her bed, pushing aside an unlit lamp, an empty glass, and a bowl.
"Nick sent all the way to California for lemons so you could have lemonade to drink. What do you think of that?"
Lizzy didn't reply, only continued to watch Nick.
Nick poured some lemonade into a glass and held it up so Lizzy could see.
Elizabeth leaned over Lizzy. "Here, dearest. Let me prop you up." She slid her arm under the child's skinny shoulders and pushed her to a sitting position, then deftly slipped some extra pillows behind her. "There, now." She walked to the chair at the foot of the bed and sat down.
Nick knelt down by the side of the bed. "Here, little bird. Take a drink and tell me if you like it." He placed the glass to her lips and tipped it.
Lizzy took a small sip, and Nick held the glass away a few inches. "Like it?"
She nodded.
"More?"
Another nod.
Elizabeth and Nick exchanged pleased glances.
Nick helped Lizzy take another, longer swallow, before she shook her head.
"No more." Nick made a comical face of dismay. "Did it turn sour? Let me taste it." He pretended to take a sip. "Tastes plenty sweet to me. Why don't you try again?" He placed the glass against her mouth, and she took another drink. "Good girl."
Wild Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) Page 22
