A couple of hours later, after the doctor had given Beth Ann some medicine, Mrs. Nelson came and offered them all supper. He and Lizzie went to the kitchen to eat beef stew, but Adelaide wouldn’t leave Beth Ann’s side. Even when he returned and offered to sit with her so Adelaide could eat, she waved him off.
And so began the worst three days of his life. He rode to the cottage and came back with the wagon so they could bring Beth Ann home. She rallied a bit, then succumbed to a raging fever. Adelaide sat with her night and day, singing to her, wiping her brow with a cool cloth, changing her nightgown when it became soaked with sweat. She refused more meals than she ate, and despite Miles strong protests, slept on the floor by Beth Ann’s bed. He was convinced Adelaide was trying hard to prove to herself that this time she could do what it took to save her daughter.
Not like little Mary, whom she was unable to snatch from the jaws of death.
“Honey, if you don’t eat something I’m going to carry you over my shoulder to Ma’s house.” Miles was almost as worried about Adelaide as he was about Beth Ann. In a few days his beautiful, cheerful wife had turned into a half-starved waif. The dark circles under her eyes, the drawn features of her face, and her tight lips as she ministered to Beth Ann frightened him.
She had dismissed all offers of help from his mother. She kept repeating that this was her job. To take care of Beth Ann herself. Ma left the house with a whispered warning to watch that Adelaide didn’t collapse under the strain. As if he hadn’t already worried about that very thing.
“I’m fine. You and Lizzie go ahead and eat.”
He brought back food from Ma’s house where they’d been eating, but it sat growing cold and dried out on the kitchen table. Dr. Nelson visited to check on Beth Anna and tried, without success, to point out to Adelaide that she would do no one any good if she ended up sick herself. With a ferocious determination, she waved them all off and spent her time fighting back death.
The fifth morning Beth Ann awoke and smiled at him and Adelaide. With her impish smile, she looked from one to the other. “Hi Pa, hi Ma. Am I sick?”
Adelaide jumped up from the floor and Miles rose from the rocking chair he’d been sleeping in. “Beth Ann! Oh, honey, how do you feel?” Adelaide placed her hand on Beth Ann’s forehead. She looked at Miles. “No fever.”
“I’m hungry,” she said.
Adelaide stared at her, and then her whole body began to shake. She slid to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She sobbed, until he thought his heart would break. Frightened, he knelt down beside her. “She’s all right now, honey. She’s better.”
She continued to cry until she could not even catch her breath. Alarmed, Miles picked her up and carried her to their bed where he stripped off the clothes she’d been in for days and slipping a nightgown over her head, tucked her into bed. “You need sleep. And food.”
She didn’t answer, just held her middle and wailed. Miles fixed her a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich. “Here. Beth Ann is fine now. Either you eat this sandwich and drink this tea, or so help me God, I’ll stuff it down you.” Now that his daughter was on the road to recovery, he was deathly afraid he’d lose his wife.
Adelaide shook her head. “Give it to Beth Ann. She said she was hungry.”
“I’ve already given her some soup.” He sat alongside her where she continued to hiccup. “Eat.”
Wearily, she took the sandwich, ate half, then drank the tea. He mixed up the sleeping powder in a glass of water that Dr. Nelson had given him and made her drink it down. He pulled the shades in the room. “Ma is going to come down and help with Beth Ann. You,” he pointed his finger at her, “will sleep.”
Just to be certain, Miles sat alongside her on the bed holding her hand until the sleeping draught had taken effect. He studied her small frame under the covers. She still had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was matted, and she looked as though she’d lost weight. God only knew what demons she’d fought while Beth Ann had been sick.
He bent to kiss her on the forehead, then left the room, closing the door softly.
Adelaide awoke to a pounding headache. She must have slept twenty-four hours since it was early morning again. Although enormously relieved that Beth Ann was fine, she was sick at heart. She’d been right, she knew motherhood would destroy her.
All the horrors of holding Mary’s fevered body, singing to her, praying for her, begging God to spare her, had all returned with Beth Ann’s illness. She’d been right all along. She couldn’t do this.
Miles lay next to her, his soft snoring comforting, but within that comfort lay horror and death. She had to get away. Away from him and the girls. They already meant too much to her, and she was unable to handle any of this.
After writing a short note, she quietly packed a small bag with a few essentials, and walked to the bedroom door, then turned to study Miles. He rested on his side, facing her, one arm tucked under his head. Silky strands of hair lay on his forehead, the dark crescents of his eyelashes on his cheek. The full lips she would never again feel on her body called to her. But she had to go. She pushed her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out.
She loved him.
But that love would destroy her. She would be better to leave them all now before the love became so strong that she couldn’t leave. God help her, she had to save herself.
A quick peek at the girls reassured her that Beth Ann was doing well. Her little cheeks were flushed with sleep, her golden hair spread over her pillow. In her sleep she held hands with Lizzie. Tears filled Adelaide’s eyes as she gazed on them for the last time.
Goodbye my little ones.
The stable master in town looked askance at her. “Why would you want to leave your horse here?”
“I have to catch the eight-thirty stage. My husband will be by to pick up the horse later today.”
Still scratching his head, he led the horse inside and Adelaide hurried to the bank. As soon as the doors opened, she entered and requested the balance of her bank account. She would need money to settle somewhere else.
Her next stop was the general store where the stagecoach tickets were sold. “Mrs. Ryan! What brings you here so early? I know you’re not bringing the little girls to school on a Saturday.” Mrs. Peters smiled at her with her usual cheerful way. “How is Beth Ann feeling?”
At the mention of the girl’s name, Adelaide had to blink back tears. “She’s doing much better. The crisis has past.”
“Oh, thank the good Lord.” Mrs. Peters moved behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”
Now that the time had come, could she really leave Miles? No more toe-curling kisses, or teasing looks. No more bantering back and forth, or sitting side by side at night while she sewed and he whispered naughty things in her ear and tried to talk her into retiring early.
Then Beth Ann’s face came into view, pale as death, and she shivered. No, she couldn’t go through that again. “Yes, Mrs. Peters, I would like a stagecoach ticket.”
The woman’s brows rose. “Going on a trip by yourself?”
The trouble with small towns. Everyone knew you and questioned your every movement. “Yes. My sister is ill and I’m going to help with her children.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. And you just now finished taking care of Beth Ann.” Mrs. Peters drew out a box from underneath the counter. “Where does she live?”
Adelaide was flummoxed. Why hadn’t she thought this out better? She didn’t even know where the stagecoach went, or for that matter, what direction it even went in. Good heavens, the woman would think she was an idiot.
“Actually, Mrs. Peters, she moved recently, and I can’t think of the name of her town. Can you tell me the stops the stage coach makes, and maybe that will refresh my memory?” She drew her handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the perspiration from her upper lip, and gave the woman a weak smile.
“You seem upset, Mrs. Ryan.” She reached out and touched her hand. “Is everything all right?”<
br />
“Yes. I’m just concerned for my sister.”
Mrs. Peters looked down at the box in front of her and rattled off a number of towns.
“Yes, that’s the town. Beaver’s Dam.” Adelaide wiped her face again. It was uncommonly hot for this time of the day. Her heart pounded until she felt lightheaded as Mrs. Peters withdrew a slip of paper from the box and wrote Beaver’s Dam across the top. She handed the paper to Adelaide.
“How much?”
The woman hesitated, then said, “Seventy-five cents.”
Adelaide fumbled in her pocket and came up with the correct amount of coins she’d just gotten from the bank. The woman continued to study her as she took the money and placed it in the drawer. “It will be some time before the stagecoach arrives, why don’t you go to the hotel and have a cup of tea? Or maybe some breakfast?”
“Yes.” She patted her face again. “I think that is a good idea. Thank you.” She bent and picked up her bag, once again nausea and lightheadedness making her grab onto the counter. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She remembered the half sandwich. It was yesterday—maybe. She shook her head and walked to the door.
Just as the door closed behind her, Adelaide heard Mrs. Peters’ voice. “David, come here I need you.”
***
Miles reached out to touch Adelaide and felt a cold empty spot where she should have been. He liked to cuddle in the morning before they arose, but with Beth Ann sick, and Adelaide so dammed stressed all the time over it, he’d had to forego a lot of things he liked to do.
Most likely she was already up and fussing over the girls. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, then noticed a slip of paper on her pillow. He frowned as he opened the note.
Miles,
I can’t do this. I told you I didn’t want to ever be a mother again. I can’t deal with the pain. Please forgive me, and try as best you can to explain to Beth Ann and Lizzie. I will miss all of you very much.
Adelaide
All the blood drained from his face.
She was gone.
Numbness set in as he read her words over and over, trying to make sense of it. Slowly, he climbed out of bed. With the paper still fisted in his hand, he checked on Lizzie and Beth Ann. He was pleased to see his youngest daughter sitting up in the bed, chatting away with her sister.
“Hi Pa. I’m hungry.” He guessed it would take some time for Beth Ann to regain her strength. Like Adelaide. She looked terrible the last few days, eyes sunken, dark circles, pale. He should have paid more attention to how she’d been suffering.
Beth Ann looked behind him. “Where’s Ma?”
Where’s Ma?
Not ready to speak the words on the paper he held, he said, “She had to go into town for something.” He looked away from them, not wanting to see the curiosity in their eyes. He hated lying to them, but he’d been struck speechless.
“I’ll go fix your breakfast. Get dressed and come on into the kitchen.”
With a heavy heart he ambled out of the room and lit a fire in the stove. The new stove that Adelaide only got to cook on once. His mind was still numb, and all he could do was repeat the lines of her note over and over in his head.
I can’t do this.
He didn’t remember toasting bread or scrambling eggs, but the three of them all sat at the table eating. He tasted nothing, but slowly, very slowly, his mind began to clear. He looked around the kitchen, at the warm home Adelaide had made for them. Her presence was everywhere. In the herbal plants on the windowsill over the sink.
In the needlepoint pillows on the sofa, the bright rag rug in front of the fireplace, the dishes, all clean and stacked on the shelf over the stove. But where he saw her the most was in the happy, contented faces of his daughters.
And in his heart.
“I’m going after her.” He jumped up and put his half eaten meal in the sink.
“Going after who?” Lizzie asked.
“Er, nothing. I just need to go into town. On my way out I’m stopping at your grandmother’s to ask her to keep an eye out for you. You two just do your chores and finish up any schoolwork you have. Lizzie, it would be nice if you did Beth Ann’s chores for her since she’s still a bit weak. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Now that he was thinking clearly, he realized she had to have gone into town, most likely to catch the stage coach. He checked his pocket watch. Eight-thirty. Much later than he would normally be starting his day, but with Beth Ann sick everyone’s schedule had been disrupted. The stage didn’t arrive on Saturdays until ten o’clock, so he needed to hurry.
“Ma?” He rushed through the front door and found both of his parents enjoying a cup of coffee.
“Good heavens, Miles, you almost gave me a heart attack!” Ma placed her hand over her heart.
“I’m going into town and I want you to watch out for the girls.”
“Where’s Adelaide?”
He’d reached his breaking point, and all the pent up fear and frustration he’d been holding onto for weeks burst forth. “I can’t say right now. I just need you to look out for Beth Ann and Lizzie.”
He headed for the door, then turned back. “I went over the books for this farm.”
Ma gasped, and twisted her apron in her fingers.
“And there is no reason whatsoever that you needed me to come home to help. You can hire as many hands as you want and still make a comfortable living. This farm is very prosperous.”
“You are our son, it is your duty—“
“It is my duty to take care of my wife and daughters, and any other children that God may bless us with. And I don’t intend to provide for them doing something I hate.”
To his distress, tears sprang into his mother’s eyes and her lip trembled. “You’re leaving?”
He sat and took her hands. “Why did you lie to me?”
She swiped at her eye. “The only way I could think of getting you back home was to rely on your sense of duty.” She reached out and cupped his face. “You’re my only son. Leo is gone, you’re all I have.”
“You have Pa.”
“Pish, he does everything I tell him to do. You were the only one who ever stood up to me.”
Miles tried to hold in his chuckle for Pa’s sake, but was unable to do so.
He had to hurry to catch the stage before it left, but this needed to be said, too. “We need to have a serious discussion when I return. But right now I have the most important job in my entire life to complete.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back.”
He left the house and headed to the stable, his stride eating up the distance in no time. Just as he was riding away from the farm, David Peters rode in his direction, waving his hat in the air. “Mr. Ryan. I have a message for you from my ma.”
Chapter Twelve
Adelaide stared at the tea cup in front of her. She’d only taken a few sips and now it sat cold on the table. She checked the clock on the wall in the hotel dining room. Nine-thirty. The stagecoach would arrive in a half hour and she would be gone.
She wondered what Beavers’ Dam was like. Was it a place where she would be happy? Would her sum of money be enough to buy a small house, or start a business? She supposed she’d left Miles in a quandary. The poor man wouldn’t be able to find another wife unless she divorced him.
Miles.
How she loved him. Loved so many things about him. He was a wonderful man, loving father and caring husband. He tried to make her happy, even insisting she eat and sleep when all she wanted to do was hold Beth Ann close and make sure death didn’t grab her. He teased her, joked with her, and when he took her to his bed . . . well, that’s when she’d realized the battle had been lost and she loved him.
What’s stronger? Your love or your fear?
She sat up straight and stiffened her shoulders. Since when did Adelaide Elizabeth Smith Markham Ryan become a weakling? Why was she letting her fear control her life? She had a wonderful husband, two beautiful d
aughters, and a lovely home.
Pulling the ticket out of her pocket, she stared at it, wondering what to do. Her eyes flew to the door of the dining room when it swept open, and a man stood there. It was hard to see his face because the sun was at his back. He moved stealthily forward, heading directly toward her.
The walk was familiar, the broad shoulders, the long legs.
Miles.
Her heart jumped and she licked her dry lips. He’d come for her. Or maybe he’d come to tell her good riddance. All of a sudden she was very nervous, not sure if she should run or stay put.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ryan.” His deep voice rolled over her as he pulled out the chair across from her, turned it around and sat, resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair. “Having breakfast?”
She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
His lips quirked. “Don’t like your new stove?” There it was again. That smile that always set her heart to thumping.
Adelaide shrugged. Why did he have to be so handsome, and why did her stomach do a country reel when he looked at her? And drat that lock of hair that perpetually fell on his forehead. His eyes twinkled, but at the same time she noticed a bit of apprehension there.
Now she felt utterly foolish and hoped to God he hadn’t come to see her on the stagecoach and out of his life forever. She cleared her throat. “The stove is fine.”
“Um hm.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Felt the urgent need to eat at the hotel?”
Desperately, she tried to control her chin, but it wouldn’t stop quivering. Her eyes filled up and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. A sob broke through, but she managed to quell the torrent of tears threatening to humiliate her. She fumbled with the stagecoach ticket in her hand.
Miles reached over and took it out of her hand. He glanced down and said, “Beaver’s Dam?”
“Yes.”
“You know someone in Beaver’s Dam that you’re hankering to visit?”
Prisoners of Love: Adelaide (Prisoners of Love - Mail Order Brides Book 1) Page 10
