Love Never Fails

by Martha Rogers

  A figure in blue loomed over him. Doctor Curtis reached down and placed his fingers at Stefan’s throat and stared at his pocket watch. He smiled then stepped back. “Your pulse is good considering your injuries, young man.”

  “My men . . . ”

  “They’re being cared for. Only one, Sergeant O’Riley, is critical. The others will be all right.”

  Stefan groaned. Still, he’d lost three. Men he’d trained and worked with for months gone. He peered up at the doctor. How could he face their families with news like this? Then he remembered his horse. “What about Warrior? Is he all right?”

  “Yes, he is. He was fine after he had some water and oats. He’s a strong horse. Stayed right by you and protested when we moved you to the wagon.”

  “Thank you.” He closed his eyes as the pain diminished. His faithful horse had not left him. Thank You, Lord.

  “Don’t you want to know the extent of your injuries, Lieutenant?” The doctor held a chart in his hands.

  Stefan nodded. May as well get the bad news out of the way now.

  “I’ve given you laudanum to lessen the pain. A bullet grazed your cheek, and you were burned on your face and hands. Your left eye is swollen shut as a result of the burns on your face, but I don’t believe any permanent damage was done. Another bullet entered your back about half an inch above your heart and lungs. There’s tissue damage and it nicked a bone, but those will heal.”

  A bullet wound he could deal with, but burns on his face and hands were another matter. “How . . . how bad are the burns?”

  “Serious enough that we’re going to send you to a hospital in New Orleans. I know that’s a long way, but you’ll be closer to your family, and they have an excellent burn unit there to take care of you.”

  Stefan clenched his teeth. Being sent to a major hospital didn’t look good. They only did that when nothing else could be done at the fort. He stared at his right hand. Severe burns could ruin his fingers . . . his gun hand. This could mean the end of his career. All thankfulness of a minute ago was swept away with the tide of anger swelling in his chest. Why had God let this happen? Why hadn’t He sent help in time? Good men lost all because of the greed of a few evil men.

  He turned his head to the wall. He wanted to scream but no sound came from his throat. The anger burned like acid in his gut. He directed his fury at God and let all the rants he could remember pass through his mind before the laudanum did its work and he slipped into blessed sleep.

  CHAPTER 24

  ON SATURDAY, AFTER seeing Mama and Andrew off on the train to Louisiana, Molly hurried back home to write a letter to Stefan and pour out her love for him. She and Mama had sat up late last night talking about Stefan and what it meant to be a military wife. All the things Mama said didn’t shake her faith, but the advice had given her something to truly think and pray about all night.

  Being the wife of a military officer would not be easy. The fort where Stefan was assigned sat in the White Mountains of southern Arizona Territory and was cut off from civilization by its remote location. He had told her a bit about the fort, but then it hadn’t really concerned her. Now she wanted to know every little detail.

  After a session of prayer in which she’d turned her entire future over to the Lord, she had fallen into peaceful sleep. This morning had been busy with breakfast, listening to last-minute instructions for her and Clara, getting to the station, and then saying good-bye. Molly had no time to think about her decision, but had told her mother just before boarding the train that all was well. Mama had understood and hugged Molly in a tight embrace.

  Now Molly sat at her writing desk with a fresh sheet of vellum and her pen poised. How should she start? She bit her lip, her heart overflowing with words and phrases, but no idea how to put them together to make sense. If only she could see him and tell him what was on her heart. Words on paper could never convey what she wanted to say.

  She stared out the window of her room that overlooked the street in front of the house. People went about their business as usual on a Saturday morning. Papa was downstairs in his office to see to patients who lived out a ways and could only make it in for a visit on Saturdays. Juliet and Alice played on the front porch, their voices drifting up to Molly through the open window. Both had taken Mama’s departure quite well and had promised to listen to any instructions given by Molly or Clara.

  Everything about her followed a routine, even to the Claremont sisters driving by in their wagon on the way to the general store. They waved to the girls on the porch then stopped. The elder Claremont sister, Miss Emily, leaned out from her perch.

  “With your Mama gone for a while, if you or your sisters need any help with anything, you be sure to let Molly know she can call on us. We’ll be glad to do whatever you need.” Then she sat back and the wagon proceeded on to town.

  Molly smiled at the scene. One of the best things about Stoney Creek was the friendliness of the people living there. Of course, everyone usually knew everyone else’s business, but that meant they’d be on the spot to help if the need arose.

  Juliet ran out onto the street to greet Mrs. Olson and her daughter Melissa. Juliet shaded her eyes and peered up at Molly. “Can I go with Mrs. Olson and play with Melissa?”

  Molly leaned out and waved at Mrs. Olson. “If it’s all right with you, Mrs. Olson.”

  “Of course it is. Alice, you come too. We’ll have us a tea party.” She moved her little boy to her other hip and beckoned to Alice to join them.

  Alice ran out to the street and the three girls made their way toward the Olson home.

  Molly sat back at her desk and tapped her pen against her teeth. Oh, how she’d miss this town and all the wonderful people who lived in it, but her heart swelled with love for Stefan. Anyplace would be her home as long as she could be with him. Stoney Creek would always be here, and she’d be welcome anytime she returned.

  Her memory drifted back to when her family first came to Stoney Creek. Mama had left all her family back in Louisiana to travel to Texas to be a doctor’s wife in a town she’d never heard of until Papa was offered the practice here. Her memories were vague as she hadn’t been quite four years of age at the time, but her first impression had included lots of horses and a lot of noise.

  If her mother had been able to leave her family and childhood home behind to follow Papa, then most certainly Molly should be able to do the same with Stefan. She grinned and straightened the paper on her desk. She had just the words to write.

  As she wrote, her love poured out through the pen and flowed onto the paper like silk. Her heart grew happier and lighter with each written word.

  Dear Stefan,

  So much has happened in the days since you left. My heart overflows with the love I hold in my heart for you. On the Fourth of July, I was held at gunpoint in an attempted horse theft at the livery. I wasn’t hurt, just scared and angry, but, Stefan, I wanted to kill that man who was holding me. I actually wanted a gun. Suddenly I realized that guns are very necessary for self-defense. Thank God that the sheriff and my uncles were nearby and were able to rescue me and stop the theft. Two of the men are now in custody and they have high hopes of catching the third.

  As I sat t
here with my life being threatened, all I could think about was never seeing you again. I couldn’t bear the idea. Stoney Creek is nothing without you, and my desire is to be with you wherever you are. God has opened my eyes and my heart to see the great gift you are to me. My prayer is that you will feel the same about me.

  I pray you are well, and bid you Godspeed with whatever duty you must fulfill as you serve our country.

  Forever Yours,

  Molly

  Satisfied with what she’d written, Molly folded the paper and slipped it inside a matching envelope. Now came the hard part, waiting to hear from him so she’d have an address to send the letter.

  Agonizing, throbbing pain coursed through Stefan’s body. Nothing seemed to alleviate the constant burning of the skin beneath the bandages. With his left arm immobile and his right hand bandaged, he could do nothing for himself.

  Humiliation washed over him as a nurse tended his wounds and fed him broth. Even when propped against the pillows, he found it hard to breathe.

  Sleep offered no comfort as it brought on dreams of the attack and the image of his men lying strewn about like rag dolls. Sergeant O’Riley had made it through the night, which improved his chances of survival. Stefan mourned the loss of the others in his unit. He’d let them down. God had let him down.

  He opened his uncovered eye and turned his head to gaze about the room. The long room held ten beds, but only five were now occupied, with two of his men having been treated and released. His heart filled with thankfulness for that but still grieved the three who died.

  Fading sunlight sent orange beams through the windows. The door opened and the nurse came through to light the lanterns for the evening. She’d stay with the three men through the night and tend to any needs that arose. A desk sat against one wall, and she lit that lamp first. Charts and papers were stacked there, and she checked papers before coming to check on him and the two others.

  The cots had been padded, but even that wasn’t enough to be comfortable. He longed for his bed in the barracks. Even though it wasn’t much softer it was longer and wider and fit his tall body with room to spare.

  Finally the nurse stopped by his bedside. He peered up at her with one good eye. “Miss Harrison, did I understand the doctor say he’s sending me to Louisiana?”

  “Yes, and as soon as you’re able to travel we’ll get you on a train. He’s wired Charity Hospital in New Orleans, so they’ll be expecting you.” She moved her fingers over the bandages with such a light touch that he could barely tell her hands were on him.

  If his wounds were serious enough for him to go back to New Orleans, this would be no simple rehab assignment like before. The doctor here had treated him, and then he’d been given a furlough to exercise the leg and retrain the muscles. Charity was a huge hospital, and he’d get the best of care since it was a teaching hospital as well, but it didn’t bode well for his military future.

  “I’m giving you something for your pain. It should help you to sleep. You need plenty of rest and fluids to heal.”

  He watched as she prepared the medication in a syringe with a beastly looking needle. He closed his eye and bit his lip to absorb the pain, but all he felt was like a pin prick to his skin. He blinked his eye and grinned at her. “That was easy. I was expecting it to hurt.”

  Nurse Harrison returned his grin and winked. “That’s what I’ve been trained to do. I’m glad to know I did it well. You’ve been asleep the other times I’ve given it to you.”

  As she turned to leave he lifted his arm as though to grab her, then realized he couldn’t. “Please, stay a minute or two longer.” Although other beds were occupied, the two men with him remained unconscious. He didn’t want to be left alone in the dark. It gave him too much time to think.

  “All right, but you’ll be asleep as soon as the morphine takes effect.” She stood beside his bed, the warm glow of the lamp behind creating a halo of light around her head.

  His angel of mercy used a cool, damp cloth to wipe the exposed part of his face. If only it would ease the burning of the part hidden under bandages, but the drug could do that. Shadows danced against the walls, creating an effect that soothed his soul, but the extent of his injuries plagued his curiosity.

  “How bad are the burns?” He stared steadily with his one eye. “Please tell me.”

  She sighed and dipped the cloth back into the cool water. “About 5 percent of your body is burned, and it’s confined to your face, neck, arms, and hands. The bullet wound will heal, but the rest will take a while.”

  Even worse than he’d feared. “Thank you.” He’d seen burns from battle before, and scars were not pretty. His career would be over and his face scarred for life. He closed his eyes, anger against God for allowing this to happen rising like bile in his chest. He dreaded the disappointment that would fill his father’s face, and the fear he’d see in his mother’s eyes.

  The nurse touched his shoulder. “I’m leaving now. You’ll soon be asleep, but I’ll be back to check on you and the others in an hour or so.” The tap, tap of her shoes on the wood floor faded away as she left him alone. He pictured the days ahead and shuddered at the looks of horror that would fill the faces of those who would see his scars. The pain subsided, and his muscles began to relax, but anger and despair still filled his soul.

  “God, how could You do this to me? You know the military is my life. It’s all I ever wanted to do. Three of my men are dead, and I’m scarred forever.” His words echoed off the walls, but did little to bring relief to the anger building in his heart.

  What would Molly think? He couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing him so ugly. She’d been right to hate what he did. His parents must swear to never tell her about his condition. She’d have no reason to come to Louisiana except to visit family, and then she never needed to know he was there. Her attitude about his military life would keep her away. As much as he longed to see her, he didn’t want her to see him like this. Even if she answered his letter, he wouldn’t write back. As uncertain as his future stood, she had no place in his life.

  CHAPTER 25

  NERVES FINALLY CAUGHT up with Sallie as she stared through the train window when it pulled into the Baton Rouge station Monday afternoon. When they had changed trains in Houston, she’d managed to send a wire to Tom to let him know when they would arrive. Now she prayed he’d be there to meet her and Andrew. She didn’t relish the idea of spending the night in Baton Rouge when she was so close to home.

  Butterflies flitted about her stomach as what-if scenarios raced through her head. What if Tom didn’t get her wire? What if Mother was worse? What if she died? What if she had to stay longer?

  The train screeched to a stop and Sallie steeled her spine. No more questions. The Lord would help her handle whatever may come.

  Andrew stood and smiled down at her. As if reading her mind, he said, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Whiteman. Everything will be all right.” He extended his hand and helped her to stand.

  “Oh, my, Andrew, I’m so glad you came with me. I don’t know what I would have done without you. This has been a much longer trip than I anticipated.” This time she’d had too much time to worry and fret over what she might find at her mother’s.

 
“It’s been a pleasure, and I will check on your mother just as I promised. I hope Tom and Marissa won’t mind.”

  “Of course they won’t. It’ll be good to have another opinion.” She reached for her travel bag. “Now let’s get on with this visit.”

  She strode down the aisle toward the door and stepped down to the platform. As soon as her foot touched ground, a shout drew her attention.

  “Sallie! Sallie! We’re here.”

  Tom and Laurie rushed toward her through the throngs of passengers. Tom stopped in front of her and then reached out to hug her. “We’re so relieved you’re here. Mama’s been asking for you ever since we told her you were coming. I’m so sorry you had to travel alone.”

  “Oh, but I didn’t. Dr. Delmont, Manfred’s associate, came with me. He has an appointment with a doctor at Charity on Thursday to see about a position on the teaching staff there.”

  Tom extended his hand in greeting. “Thank you, Dr. Delmont. We appreciate your coming with her.”

  “I was glad to do it.”

  Marissa hugged Sallie and spoke in low tones so only Sallie could hear. “Tom has been worried sick that you wouldn’t get to come after all. He was so thankful to get your wire.”

  Of course she’d come, what was Tom thinking? “I hope he doesn’t mind, but I asked Dr. Delmont to check Mama and give his opinion.”

  Marissa nodded then stepped back as Tom motioned to his driver to load Sallie’s larger bag onto the carriage that waited at a hitching post. “Tompkins will take care of getting the luggage loaded. We’ll eat before we head back to St. Francisville. Even then we should be able to get back home before dark.”

  Although it was another delay, she did need to eat to keep up her strength. “All right, but you must fill me in on everything while we eat.”