The Horseman's Frontier Family

by Karen Kirst

  “Like I got kicked by a horse,” he muttered, earning a slight smile from his future sister-in-law and a worried frown from Evelyn.

  After she’d no doubt studied his mutilated back, she turned to Alice with a puckered brow. “Those bruises look pretty nasty. Could he have internal injuries?”

  “Because of the repeated blows he sustained, we’ll have to watch for warning signs. He’s alert and coherent, which is good. His pulse has evened out and remained steady, and his skin, while pale, isn’t clammy.” She transferred her attention to Gideon. “Are you dizzy? Short of breath?”

  Although he could’ve gazed upon Evelyn’s lovely features for eternity, he closed his eyes against the brightness in the room. It aggravated his headache. “Just a little dizzy.”

  “That’s most likely a result of the blow to the head, but we’ll monitor it.” Quiet descended as she worked quickly to cover his wounds. She touched his shoulder. “Gideon, I’ve procured a small amount of laudanum. You should take it now before we wrap you.”

  “I don’t know....”

  Boots thudded into the room. “You should listen to her, brother.” Elijah’s grim voice floated somewhere above his head. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  “Hey, Lije.”

  Clint joined the group. “Glad to see you’re awake. You had us all worried when you didn’t come to right away.”

  Gideon searched for a response but came up empty. Exhaustion hounded him.

  “Can you help me turn and lift him into a sitting position?” he heard Alice say. “I can administer the medicine and then we’ll address those ribs.”

  Suddenly, strong hands were slipping beneath his armpits and hoisting him up, turning him. Tormenting him. A ragged groan filled his ears. His own?

  “Sorry, buddy.” Clint’s voice, husky with apology, sounded near his ear. “Trying to be as easy as we can.”

  Weakness invaded his body as the darkness called to him again. His fingers searched for Evelyn’s. He wanted to stay alert. Wanted her comforting presence nearby.

  The sound of her weeping saddened him.

  “Evelyn, darlin’?” he rasped. “Please. Don’t cry.”

  And then a cup met his dry lips and he drank deeply, his fuzzy mind not registering the water was spiked with laudanum until too late. When the first strip of cloth was wound about his chest and pulled taut, the gloom stole over him and he slumped forward into relief.

  * * *

  He’d called her darling. Unintentionally, she was sure. Still, the endearment spoken in his velvet-soft voice had had a peculiar effect on her heart. And made the tears fall harder.

  Elijah had looked over at her as if seeing her in a new light, speculation coming to life in his hazel eyes. She’d seen that discerning gaze before—as a preacher, he had a calling to assist people, to recognize their needs and meet them the best he could—but never had it been directed at her. Had he seen the hidden truth in her eyes? She prayed not.

  It was a dangerous truth, one that could rip her life apart. Gideon would not be happy if he discovered her true feelings. His kisses had been born of the moment, spontaneous releases of pent-up emotion, not declarations of love. He was content with his solitary life. A smitten widow didn’t fit in with his plans.

  As for her brothers? They would disown her. No question about it.

  Even now, seated beside the cot where they’d propped him up with pillows, she knew her actions betrayed her. Leaning close, she clasped his heavy, work-roughened hand in between hers and prayed for comfort and quick healing. She couldn’t leave his side, however. Couldn’t stop from comforting him.

  Seeing Gideon in such terrible pain, knowing it was his brave rescue of her son that had gotten him hurt, was killing her.

  Alice appeared in the doorway with Walt. Releasing the kind nurse’s hand, his clunky shoes scraped the dirt as he came near, his troubled gaze on Gideon’s pale features.

  He pressed in close to Evelyn’s side. “Is he sleeping?”

  Having become used to his silence, she started whenever she heard his distinctive voice. “He’s resting. Miss Alice gave him some medicine.”

  “I was scared, Mama.”

  Wrapping an arm about his small waist, she hugged him close. She’d come dangerously close to losing him. “You were very brave.”

  “Gideon saved me.”

  “He was brave, too.”

  Alice approached, her watchful gaze on the patient. “We’re going to gather some more supplies from the clinic, along with bedding for Elijah. He’ll camp outside in case you need for him to fetch me during the night.”

  “Do you think he’ll wake up soon?”

  His injuries required rest, she knew, but she needed to see those beautiful gray eyes of his.

  “It’s hard to tell. If he does, it’s very important to have him take deep breaths and cough. This needs to be repeated several times an hour. You can support his ribs with a pillow.”

  Caring blue eyes shifted to her. “Thank you for offering to care for him. I would stay if Mrs. Carmichael’s baby wasn’t due any moment. From what I hear, she and young Sarah nearly died during her last delivery, and I want to take every precaution to ensure this one goes smoothly.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Alice opened her mouth to say something, then appeared to think better of it. “Don’t worry about supper. We’ll stop by Mrs. Murphy’s and bring plates for you both.”

  When she reached the door, Evelyn called out. “Wait a moment, please, Alice.” After instructing Walt to choose a toy and play quietly on the rug, she joined her.

  “He will be okay, won’t he?”

  Understanding dawned on the young nurse. She laid a comforting hand on Evelyn’s arm. “He escaped the worst. Internal injuries would’ve required surgery, something our clinic isn’t equipped for, something I’m not prepared to do without the assistance of a doctor. There’s a possibility of pneumonia, but I’m hopeful that if we can keep him coughing and breathing deeply that we’ll avoid that.”

  The image of the angry red gashes crisscrossing his back caused her to shudder. “And what of infection?”

  “We’re going to keep the wounds clean and covered with antiseptic.” Stray red curls shifted as Alice tilted her head. “Evelyn, it’s obvious you and Gideon have grown close. I know what it’s like to watch someone you care about suffer. Last month, before the land rush, we almost lost Elijah.”

  Evelyn had overheard Keith and Cassie Gilbert speaking about his brush with death. How horrible that must’ve been for Alice. For his brothers. When Elijah and Clint had ridden in with Alice earlier, they’d worn matching frowns of dread, their pale countenances testament to their fear. And later, when they had assisted Alice in wrapping Gideon’s ribs, it was as if they’d suffered along with him.

  The Thornton brothers shared a bond that could not be broken. Whether forged by the loss of their parents, their troubled childhood or the challenges they’d faced together—including those presented by her family—nothing could damage the love and respect they had for each other.

  “Don’t let worry consume you,” Alice continued. “‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God,’” she said, quoting the verse in Philippians.

  “Thank you for the reminder.” She dredged up a weary smile. “I admit I’ve neglected my Bible reading in the past weeks.”

  “When life gets busy,” Alice motioned around her, “and yours is obviously unsettled, it’s easy to let that slide. However, it’s vital we make the time.” She spoke without censure.

  “Your friendship means a lot, Alice. Considering the situation with the land claim, not to mention my brothers’ shenanigans, no one would’ve blamed you had you refused to speak to me.�
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  “How could I judge you when I haven’t walked in your shoes?” she said gently.

  “Alice?” Elijah appeared behind her, his gaze seeking out Gideon’s prone form. “He’s still sleeping?”

  “I’d say he will for the next few hours.”

  With a grave nod, he put a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “We should go.”

  To Evelyn he said, “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  Interpreting the question for what it really was, she reassured him. “I won’t leave his side.”

  Again, that penetrating look. “He’s fortunate to have you in his life.”

  “I doubt he’d agree with you,” she blurted, thinking how her presence had put his future in jeopardy.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.” Sadness carved deep grooves on either side of Elijah’s mouth. “You’re the first person he’s allowed to get close since he lost his wife and child.”

  “Child?” Shock knocked her back a step. “Gideon had a child?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elijah and Alice shared a look of dismay. “I thought you knew,” he said.

  “He told me about Susannah. He never mentioned a child.”

  But he’d been a natural with Walt from the start, had known how to comfort, how to connect with a small child. She recalled being surprised at how comfortable he’d seemed tucking Walt into bed. Now she knew it was because he’d done it before.

  Sorrow welled up, lodged like a boulder in her chest. Was the child a boy or girl? How old? How did it happen? When?

  “I can see you have questions.” Elijah wore an expression of regret. “But I’d best leave them to Gideon to answer. He wouldn’t appreciate me talking about something that, for him, is an extremely difficult subject.”

  “You’re right.”

  He was a private man. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate others discussing him while he lay injured and vulnerable. Trying to absorb the revelation while choking back the burning need to know more, she returned to her chair and sat down hard.

  Gideon. A father. One who’d buried his only child.

  No wonder he kept people at arm’s length. She looked at her sweet son building a fort out of wooden blocks and tried to imagine what life would be like if one day he were here and the next he were gone. Empty. Meaningless. Desolate. Tears smarted her eyes at the mere idea.

  “Are you all right?” Alice’s quiet inquiry shattered her thoughts.

  Evelyn lifted her gaze to the couple still standing in the doorway. “I’m fine. It’s just—” She broke off to study Gideon’s dear face, ashen and fretful even in sleep, and her heart broke for him. “I hate that he’s had to endure such tragedy.”

  “Death is a reality we must all deal with.” From his resigned tone, Evelyn knew Elijah surely must’ve dealt with it more than most. “God gives us the grace and strength to bear it. All we have to do is accept His help.”

  Nodding, she threaded her fingers tightly in her lap when what she really wanted to do was take Gideon in her arms. He hadn’t turned to God in his grief, had he? Instead, he’d turned away. Tried to shoulder his burden alone. And suffered greatly for it.

  When they quietly took their leave, stating their desire to get to the infirmary and then to town and back before it grew too late, she took up his hand again and resumed praying for healing. Only this time she prayed for healing of a different kind.

  * * *

  A rustling of sheets and a low moan jerked her upright, out of a dreamless sleep.

  Walt was quiet in his makeshift pallet on the floor. She must’ve drifted off sometime after midnight.

  Gideon stirred, his spiky lashes fluttering as he blinked and shifted on the cot, his arm immediately curling about his ribs.

  She closed the Bible in her lap, placed it beneath her chair and scooted closer. Light from a single kerosene lamp washed the room in a soft golden hue. “You’re awake.”

  His eyes shot open, gray irises cloudy with pain. “Evelyn.”

  Although propped up on pillows, he tried to sit up farther. The effort leached the remainder of color from his face. “Take it easy, swee—” She pressed her lips together. Sweetheart? Honestly? “Gideon.” His name came out as a caress. “I’ll get you a drink of water.”

  “Just water this time,” he grunted, left arm bracing his wrapped ribs. His brothers had slipped a fresh white shirt on him but left the buttons undone so the material wouldn’t pull over his wounds. Faint dark scruff lined his hard jaw and chin.

  At the small table that Clint had carried in, she poured water into the cup and returned to his bedside. With effort, she kept her gaze off the expanse of smooth, tanned skin stretched over hardened muscle above the horizontal strips covering his midsection. His strength, his masculine appeal, could not be diminished by injury.

  She lifted the cup to his lips, noting his hesitation. “No medicine. I promise.”

  His hazy gaze fastened on to hers, he unlocked his lips and drank the contents. Before she could stop herself, she smoothed locks of hair away from his forehead. His gaze cleared, roamed her features with an intensity that made her want to squirm.

  “How did you get saddled with nurse duty?” he asked when he finished drinking. He shifted slightly, taking in slow, even breaths.

  “I didn’t get saddled with it,” she said wryly. “I volunteered.” When one brow arched, she quickly explained, “Alice needed to be at the infirmary, close to Mrs. Carmichael. Her delivery date has already passed.”

  The talk of babies had her thinking once more of his lost child. Would he ever tell her?

  “How’s Walt?”

  Missing the weight of his hand between hers, she fiddled with the ruffled edges of her sleeves. “He’s fine. Not a scratch on him. He’s concerned about you, though.”

  “He asked about me?” Wonder filled his voice.

  She smiled for the first time since the accident. “He did. You are his hero, Gideon.” Emotion clogged her throat. “And mine,” she admitted, her voice going scratchy. Unable to restrain herself, she covered his hand lying on top of the quilt and squeezed. “You put yourself in harm’s way for my son. You saved him. I will never forget what you’ve done.”

  His fingers closed over hers, his thumb lightly grazing her knuckles. Her heart beat faster. She longed to hold him, to have his strong arms around her, sheltering her, reassuring her that everything was going to be all right. There was safety and comfort, as well as a thrilling sense of rightness, within those arms.

  “Anyone would’ve done the same.”

  Evelyn thought of her deceased husband and wondered what decision he would’ve made. She immediately dismissed the thought. Drake was gone.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she said.

  Shaking herself mentally from such memories, she drew in a bracing breath and looked down at her patient. “Gideon, Alice left instructions.” When she’d explained what they needed to do, he nodded solemnly.

  Dreading seeing him suffer more than he already was but knowing it was necessary in order to avoid complications, she retrieved a pillow and lodged it between his arm and torso. She supported his shoulder. He tried breathing deeply first, expanding his chest as far as he could stand it, then coughed a couple of times.

  Lines of tension bracketed his mouth, but he didn’t utter a sound.

  Evelyn blinked away tears. It would bother him to see her upset, so she filed away her emotions to deal with later.

  When he’d relaxed back against the pillows, she offered to heat up the soup Elijah and Alice had brought from the café. There was a fire outside next to his tent that could be easily stoked without disturbing Elijah. But he declined.

  “I’m not hungry. Just feeling like I could sleep for a week.”

 
She started to rise. “Would you like for me to lower the lamp?”

  “No.”

  She sat back down, curious as to the cause of his uncertain expression.

  He gave her a rueful smile. “I’d like it if you held my hand while I sleep. Not for long. You need your rest.”

  A giddy feeling shimmered through her like sparkles of sunlight on water. She returned his smile. “That is one request I will gladly fulfill.”

  Making herself comfortable in the chair, she leaned against the cot and threaded her fingers through his. Languid warmth suffused her limbs. This was right. And good.

  Don’t get used to it, a voice warned. This is temporary. He’s not himself.

  As soon as he was better, the wall would go back up and he’d regret his vulnerability. He’d remember the upcoming court case, the fact that his land and all he’d worked for was at stake. Because of her.

  As she watched him drift off, it hit Evelyn that somewhere along the way the land had come to mean less than the man. Her independence less than his happiness.

  If Gideon lost, where would he go? Where would he rebuild? The available claims were all taken. Would Clint or Elijah offer him half of their acres? Or would he return to Kansas?

  If she lost, on the other hand, she had three homesteads to choose from. Would it be so terrible to move in with one of her brothers? Walt would be around his uncles more often. Theo, Brett and Reid missed having him underfoot. They would be thrilled when they heard him speak.

  As for her...they loved her, too. It might take a while, but they’d forgive her for taking sides with a Thornton.

  * * *

  “Where’s Evelyn?”

  Arms crossed over his chest, Clint crossed his outstretched legs and cracked a smile. “Well, good mornin’ to you, too, brother.”