Ho came back into the room. “Mr. Tom is on his way.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said. “How long has Nicholas been like this?”
“I hear a noise, like a thump, and I see his crutch on the floor. He looked bad, so I came for you.”
“So about ten minutes?”
Ho nodded.
The clock ticked ever slower. Rachel paced the floor while Giselle continued to rub Nicholas’s wrists. What could possibly be wrong with him? She knew Dr. Wayment had been treating him for a head injury—had he bled into the brain?
Moments later, she heard rapid footsteps on the stairs, and Dr. Wayment burst into the room. Giselle and Rachel both immediately stepped back, giving him the space he needed. He lifted Nicholas’s eyelids, then grabbed his stethoscope and listened to his heart. Then he swore, ripping off his suitcoat and throwing it across the room.
“Giselle, I need a large bowl of warm water, a separate dry bowl, and a salt shaker. Hurry. Rachel, I need you over here now.”
He brought Nicholas up into a sitting position and held him there while Rachel removed the rest of the bandages. As soon as Giselle came back in the room, he pulled a long tube from his bag.
“If either of you are squeamish, I suggest you go over there with Ho and keep your face turned away.”
Rachel was tempted to hide her eyes, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she watched as Dr. Wayment threaded the hose down Nicholas’s throat and then fed some warm, salty water through that hose.
“What are you doing?” Giselle asked.
“I’ll explain everything in a minute, and I’ll have some questions. But I don’t have time right now.” His hands worked fast, administering more water through the tube, and then Nicholas threw up into the second bowl. Over and over the doctor did this, forcing Nicholas to vomit, and then he finally sat back and wiped his forehead on his arm.
“All right, now we just wait and see.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Where is the bottle of laudanum?”
Giselle opened the cupboard door and handed it to him.
“Have you been giving it to him as directed?”
“I have. I’ve even written it down.” She pulled a piece of paper from her dress pocket. “The day and the time.”
“Good. Good for you. But this bottle is almost empty, and it should be half full still.”
“What . . . what does that mean?” Rachel asked, even though she suspected she knew.
“It means he’s been dosing himself. The pain must have become too much.” Dr. Wayment sighed and leaned his head back against the chair. “When a patient is in pain, the body finds ways to cope. When pain medications are given, the body loses its ability to cope, and then all pain feels worse than it really is. That’s why it’s so important that pain medication be taken on a schedule and according to a proper dose. We want to help the patient, not make them dependent.”
“Will he be all right?” Giselle asked.
Rachel looked down at Nicholas. He was lying on his side, a small dribble of moisture coming from the corner of his mouth. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and wiped it away.
“I don’t have an answer for that right now,” Dr. Wayment said to Giselle. “Laudanum is a powerful compound that contains opium. We don’t know how much he’s taken, and we don’t know how long it’s been in his system. We can only guess, so now we have to wait and see. This gastric lavage should help, but if he’s already digested some . . . I can’t say.”
“Opium?” Ho said from the corner of the room. “Oh, no. This is bad. This is very bad.”
“What do you mean, Ho?” Rachel asked.
Ho stepped forward, worry all over his face. “In my country, many people take opium. They take it all the time, even when not sick. People fight wars over it. Please, Doctor, you have to help Nick.”
“I’ll do my very best, Ho,” Dr. Wayment assured him.
The nighttime hours passed slowly. Nicholas didn’t move for a long time, but then he started to cough, and he vomited on his own. He did that four or five times. Each time, Dr. Wayment peered into the bowl curiously.
“I’m looking for evidence of internal bleeding,” he said when he caught Rachel watching him.
“Oh,” she said, feeling embarrassed. “I’ve just never seen anyone find vomit so interesting before.”
“As a doctor, all bodily excretions are interesting to me,” he said, a faint smile on his face. “Thankfully, I’ve seen no blood, and that’s a good sign.”
Around dawn, Nicholas threw up again, then drew in a long, jagged breath. He opened his eyes and looked around, seemingly bewildered.
“Hello, Nicholas,” Dr. Wayment said. “How do you feel?”
“Awful. Absolutely awful,” Nicholas said with a groan. “What’s going on? What happened?”
“That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me. Do you remember anything from last night?”
Nicholas passed a hand over his face. “Last night . . . oh, no.”
“What is it? What do you remember?”
“I was in a lot of pain, and I took some extra laudanum.”
Dr. Wayment glanced over at Giselle. She was sitting on the edge of a chair, her chin resting on her hands, her gaze glued to her brother. “How much did you take?”
“Just a few drops. Or maybe a little more than that.”
Dr. Wayment pressed his lips together. “I need to ask you a question, and you might find it difficult to answer. Were you trying to do yourself a harm?”
“What? No. I just wanted to numb the pain. I’ve never wanted to kill myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Nicholas’s eyes opened even wider. “Did . . . did I almost die? Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m afraid so. Now, how many times have you taken extra laudanum, Nicholas? Was it just last night, or have there been other times?”
“I’ve done it several times. I knew it was foolish, but I had no idea . . .” He passed his hand over his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how dangerous it was.”
“It never occurred to you that I put Giselle in charge of it for a specific reason?” Dr. Wayment’s voice was sharp.
“I don’t suppose I was thinking at all. The pain was so intense . . . really, Doctor, I’m so sorry.”
Dr. Wayment gave a sharp nod. “I don’t think you did this on purpose, but I’m concerned about the vast levels of foolishness you’ve displayed. Nicholas, you’re a bright young man with a good future ahead of you. These injuries are a minor setback. Painful, yes. Permanent, no. Don’t throw away something permanent, like your life, because of a temporary condition.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up and resituated. I’d like you to visit with our local pastor so you can air any thoughts or feelings you might be having right now, and we’re going to work out a new treatment program for you. Laudanum is not part of that program.”
“I understand,” Nicholas said again.
Dr. Wayment asked for water, soap, and towels, then told the girls to leave while he and Ho bathed Nicholas and made him more comfortable. Rachel and Giselle sat on the stairs, their arms linked, neither knowing what to say.
“I’m so glad he’ll be all right,” Giselle said after several silent moments.
“I am too. And I’d like to wring his neck,” Rachel added.
“I’ll help you. Do you suppose he really didn’t know what he was doing?”
“I think the pain just became too much to handle.” Rachel gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. “He’ll recover from this, and his other injuries, and he’ll be as good as new. Then we can tease him mercilessly about it. For now, we’ll just have to let Dr. Wayment put him back together.”
“You mean, we have to wait until he’s well before we can wring his neck?” Giselle asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s what I mean. We’ll have to be patient.”
A few minutes later, the guests of
the hotel began to stir, and Rachel realized with a start that she and Giselle were still in their robes. They dashed upstairs, changed into their work dresses, and hurried back down to make sure Sarah didn’t need any help with the morning coffee and biscuits. Then they hovered outside Nicholas’s door again, waiting for it to open. Finally, it did.
Nicholas was sitting up in bed, pillows behind him, as usual. His hair and face were still a little damp from being washed, but he looked clean and fresh. He held out both hands, one to each girl, and they came forward and took them.
“I will never, ever do anything so foolish again,” he assured them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You’d better not do it again,” Giselle said, wiping a tear from her eye with her free hand. “Don’t you remember? You’re supposed to live forever to make up for Daniel.”
“I do remember, and I should never have done anything that would make me break that promise. You can count on me, Giselle.” Then he turned his head to meet Rachel’s gaze. “And you can count on me too.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said lightly, not wanting to investigate the many layers she saw in his eyes.
***
A mug of hot coffee in her hands, Rachel sat at the kitchen table, trying to keep her eyes open.
“Do you need anything else?” Sarah asked, pouring just a bit more coffee in her cup.
“If you could delay the train by a few hours so I can take a nap, that would be much appreciated,” Rachel said.
“I don’t have that ability, but we could ask Olivia to come over,” Sarah replied. “Both you and Giselle are so tired, and with Emma gone, we could use the extra hands.”
Rachel thought about that for a moment. It was tempting. So tempting. But her mother would be leaving on the first train, and she really ought to be around when that happened. She shook her head. “No, but thank you for the idea. Maybe we’ll bring her in for the second train, though. We’ll see how the day goes.”
Just then, her mother stuck her head into the kitchen. “I’m sorry—I know I’m not supposed to be back here. I just wondered if I could speak with Rachel for a moment.”
Rachel pulled herself to her feet, exhaustion taking over every inch of her. “Of course, Mother. Let’s go into the parlor again.”
This time, Rachel chose a chair that wasn’t quite so close to her mother’s. She wanted to retain a little more control of the conversation, which she assumed wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“I stayed up until quite late thinking about what you said,” Mrs. Smith began. “You’re right. I should have asked you more questions at the time, and I should have been willing to listen to you. If you tell me nothing happened, I will accept that.”
Rachel was surprised, but she didn’t let it show on her face. “Nothing happened, Mother.”
“Very well. It’s in the past now. And if you would like to come home, you may.”
Rachel didn’t even have to think about it. She’d asked herself the question so many times, it was easy to reply. “Thank you, but for now, I’m happy where I am.”
Her mother nodded. “I thought as much. You seem to be doing well here. Your employer thinks highly of you, and the other girls look up to you. I believe you have found a good place to be.”
“I agree. I’ve settled in quite well.”
“Now, how is the young man in room two? There was some disturbance during the night.”
Rachel had hoped that none of the guests had been bothered by the emergency, but then again, if her mother had already been awake, perhaps she was the only one who had noticed anything. “He’s all right now. The doctor came and saw to him, and he’s resting comfortably.” Ho had taken up a spot right next to the bed and could barely take his eyes off Nick. He would be well tended.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Mrs. Smith rose. “I understand I can eat with the train passengers before I board.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll gather up my things, then, and wait for the meal. That cornbread smells delicious.”
“Sarah is quite talented.”
As her mother went upstairs, Rachel blinked back her tears. Their relationship was still strained, as she imagined it always would be. Far too many things had happened to be resolved with just one conversation. But at least this most recent issue had been discussed, and that might open the door to talking about other things. Rachel knew she shouldn’t hope for too much, but this tiny crack was a good start.
Chapter Nineteen
Nicholas stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at the lobby of the Brody Hotel. It had been four weeks since he came there, and in those four weeks, he’d learned more about himself than he’d ever dreamed possible. He’d learned the limits of his body, of his mind, and of his spirit as he overcame his injuries and the addiction he’d developed to the laudanum. He shook his head—he hadn’t even known he was addicted. The thought had never occurred to him.
Overcoming his dependency had been difficult. He’d had to face the pain head-on, with no outside relief. Giselle and Rachel had been by his side through the whole thing—the nights of agony, his face and back drenched with sweat. He never wanted to go through anything like that again.
He took the stairs slowly, happy to note that the pain in his leg was all but gone. The deep bruising had taken a while to heal, but now he could walk with just the slightest limp. His head injury had faded, and his ribs, while still a bit sore, were doing much better. Dr. Wayment wanted him to give it another two weeks before returning to work, but said there was no reason why he shouldn’t go after that time.
Nicholas walked into the dining room and found an empty seat by two men who had obviously been on the train for a while. As he listened to them talk, he learned that they had boarded in New York and were headed as far west as they could get. “It’s a chance to see the country that we may never get again,” one of them said.
Nicholas’s wanderlust kicked in stronger than ever. He nodded and asked questions as the men described all the things they’d seen during their travels. Granted, none of it was too shocking or out of the ordinary—this was all part of the same country—but still, it was fun to hear what they had to say.
When the meal was over, he caught Rachel’s attention and invited her to go for a buggy ride with him.
“But my work . . .” she protested.
“It’s all right. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said. “The girls will finish up the dining room, and Tom has already hitched up the buggy.”
She hesitated, but then smiled. “All right, but only because you put some effort into arranging it. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
Moments later, they were clip-clopping down the road, heading for the river. There was so much Nicholas wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to begin. Things had changed between them so many times. He’d gone from being the big brother of her fiancé to her good friend to her confidante to her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Then there was disdain, acceptance, and his near death. How could any relationship survive so much upheaval?
“It’s nice out today,” Rachel said, using her fingers to fluff through the little wisps of hair on her forehead. “I think we’re heading into fall. I didn’t think it would ever arrive.”
“It did seem to take a while.” Nicholas gave the horse’s reins another flick. “So, I’m heading back out to the railroad camp in a couple of weeks.”
“I heard about that. Giselle mentioned something.”
“I’d like to spend as much time as possible with you before I go.” He all but held his breath, wondering what she would say to that.
She didn’t reply for a moment. “Why?”
“Why? So I can win you over with my impressive charm, of course.” He hoped a little levity would soften her heart.
She sighed. “You’re just never going to give up, are you?”
“I don’t believe I am, actually.” He shifted a little to face her better. “I have s
itting here with me the most perfect woman in the world—perhaps she’s not perfect in every way, but she’s perfect for me. She feels guilty for loving me, she feels guilty because she chose someone else out of a sense of duty, and she’s got this foolish notion that to set things right with the universe, she must stay away from me forever and make us both miserable. Well, I don’t think that’s how the universe works, and I don’t think it’s what Daniel would want. Be honest, Rachel—is this what he would want?”
Rachel shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she whispered. “He’d want me to be happy.”
“Yes, he would. And so do I. Aren’t you lucky? Two men have loved you more than life itself and want your happiness above their own. And you’re denying yourself of that blessing for no actual reason.”
Nicholas brought the wagon to a stop along the banks of the river and looped the reins so they wouldn’t fall slack. “How can I convince you? Tell me, and I’ll say it or do it.”
“I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ve spent so long telling myself I don’t deserve good things that I don’t know how to overcome it.”
“I’m not so sure I believe in the concept of ‘deserving’ things,” Nicholas said. “Daniel didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t deserve to escape my accident alive. We’re blessed every day and we face trials every day, and I don’t believe there’s a chart being kept somewhere of what we ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’ have. Do you?”
“No, I guess not.” Rachel turned to him, her eyes brimming. “Do you believe in things like second chances?”
“Do I believe in them? I’m living proof that they exist. What other explanation could there be for me sitting here with you now?”
She smiled. “A very cruel fate?”
“No, a very wonderful fate.” He reached out and took her hand. “We have a second chance now, Rachel. Why on earth wouldn’t we take it?”
She looked into his eyes. “Such a large part of me wants to believe you.”
“Then why not listen to that part?” He slid across the bench, took her in his arms, and kissed her like he’d been dreaming of kissing her ever since she walked away with his brother. Her lips were soft and warm, her hair smelled like honey and sunshine, and he drank them both in.
A Careless Wind (Kansas Crossroads Book 7) Page 10
