by Carré White
Pastor Bailey approached. “Mrs. Clark, Mr. Clark.” He shook Frank’s hand. “How are you today? Do you need help out?”
“I have someone coming.” Knowing that Frank had wet himself, I prayed this would go unnoticed. I glanced over my shoulder, curious about where Nathan was.
“You did a fine job,” said Frank. “Especially the sermon alluding to the Corinthians. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“Why, that’s high praise. I know how much people miss you, Pastor Clark. I’m still so green behind the ears, I find I repeat myself too often.”
“Excuse me for a moment.” I rushed down the aisle and out the door, scanning the dusty street. Several wagons ambled by, followed by shouting. The miners were rowdy seven days a week, and Sunday was no exception. “Nathan!” Approaching the saloon, I waited, listening to laughter and music, while men drank and spent all their money. “Mr. Weaver!” It smelled of stale spirits, with a hint of wet wood. The doors suddenly swung outward.
“Yes?” He appeared, smiling. “The service over so soon?”
“It is. We have to go.”
“What’s wrong?”
He always seemed to know when I was stressed. “Um…there’s been a little accident, but…it’s fine.”
“I’ll get Jerry. Hold up a second. Meet me at the church.”
“I will.”
Frank was in discussion with the preacher, oblivious to the fact that he had made a mess of himself. Once Nathan and Jerry arrived, I hurried down the aisle. “Well, we’re good to go now. I have the boys.”
“Excellent. I’ve taken up enough of Pastor Bailey’s time.”
Nathan and Jerry labored to lift Frank, whose arms were around the men’s necks. “It’ll be a relief once these legs start working again,” he said, smiling.
“We say a prayer for your full recovery at every service,” said Pastor Bailey.
“Thank you so much for that.”
“It was good seeing you, Mrs. Clark.”
“It’s always a pleasure to come to town.”
Once Frank was seated in the wagon, Nathan was behind me, his mouth near my ear. “I see what you mean. He had an accident.”
“Yes, he did.” He helped me up the step. “Thank you.”
His expression was grave. “No thanks needed.”
Jerry remained in town, wanting to spend his time at the saloon. When we were home, Nathan carried Frank into the house, where I closed the curtains in the dining room and removed his clothes.
“You should’ve told me.”
I glanced at my husband. “I didn’t want to make a fuss in public.”
His smile had vanished. “I hate this!” Our eyes met. “I hate being an invalid. I hate what it’s doing to you.”
“It’s not doing anything to me.”
“You should hire someone to help you. All you do is tend to the laundry and me. There has to be more to life than chores.”
I sighed. “Oh, Frank.”
“Go find someone to help.”
He had the use of his arms, thereby being able to wash himself, but other matters were solely under my direction. “I’ll put up a notice, I suppose, the next time I’m in town.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Stop that.”
“Hannah, I might never have the use of my legs again. I might never feel anything…down there. I’ve been thinking of what a hardship this is, of how unfair. You wanted children. I won’t be able to give you children.”
I shrugged. “God has other plans for us, I guess.”
He grabbed my arm, dragging me to him. “I love you!” he whispered fiercely. “I hate to see you like this. I’m so dreadfully sorry.”
Tears flooded my eyes. “Please don’t be sorry. It was an accident.”
“But it’s ruined your life.”
“My life’s not ruined. It’s just…changed. I’m dealing with it one day at a time. I’m fine.”
He leaned against a pillow. “Maybe I should’ve died. In a way, it would have made things easier. You could’ve just found another husband and gotten on with your life instead of playing nursemaid to me.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I have to make lunch. Now, let’s get these pants on you.”
But those words did stick somewhere in a dark part of my consciousness. They lingered in the space where all my unpleasant thoughts were, especially of the William’s. Not once had they come to the house to see Frank. He had been injured helping them with their barn, and they had never thought to stop by to see how we were doing. The anger I felt towards them frightened me, as it was such a strong emotion. It would come upon me at odd times, mostly after a long, tiring day…and there were far too many of those.
It would be another week before I began to feel a small measure of hope. While hanging clothing on the line, Nathan approached. He’d gone to town for supplies, but he hadn’t returned alone.
“I found someone to help you.”
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing a stout, dark-haired woman. She looked to be Hispanic. “Pardon?”
“This is Mrs. Hermosa. She’s a grass widow.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
“A divorcee.”
I gasped at his crudeness. “You have the manners of an ox, Mr. Weaver.”
“I certainly do. Can’t argue with you on that account.” He beamed from ear to ear. “She’s in need of room and board. I figure she could help you with the chores.”
“I won’t be able to pay her until the harvest.”
“She knows that.”
I glanced at Mrs. Hermosa. “I’m Hannah.”
“It’s good to meet you.” She shook my hand. Her accent was strong. “You have a pretty house.”
“Thank you.”
“Nathan says your husband is no good to walk.”
“No, he isn’t. He fell from a roof two months ago. He’s lucky to be alive.”
She nodded, her gaze straying to the clothing in my hand. “I can help you with that. I can do it for you.”
“If you want.” I glanced at Nathan. “Where will she sleep?”
“You have an extra bedroom.”
That was supposed to be the nursery. “I don’t have a bed. I have a cradle, but I don’t think that’ll work.” Mrs. Hermosa had begun to pin clothing to the line.
I walked with Nathan. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. You wash all of our laundry. I’ve seen how long that takes. Look at your hands. Those aren’t the hands of a lady. It’s time you let someone else do the clothing.”
We were near the kitchen door. “Thank you.”
He stared at me, as he did at times, his clear blue eyes roaming over my face. I shouldn’t encourage his attention in this manner because I sensed his interest wasn’t of a platonic nature, my womanly instincts alerting me to this fact. But…I felt drawn to him…even though I knew I shouldn’t.
“What’s for dinner?” His tone had taken on a slightly husky quality.
“Um…Tavern biscuits, brown gravy, and deer meat.”
“How are you cooking the venison?”
“It’s been stewing all day.”
“That’s what I’ve been smelling.”
“I fried it with plenty of onions and garlic.”
His smile lingered. “You did it right then.”
“It won’t be gamey when I’m finished with it.”
“I bet not.”
“Hannah!”
My husband’s voice made me jump. “Oh, goodness. He needs something.” I rushed into the kitchen. “What is it?”
“I think I might feel something!”
“Where?”
“My leg.”
I gasped, glancing at Nathan, who had followed me into the house. “Oh, that’s such good news.”
“You should get Doc Caldwell out here. He would know what’s happening to me.” He grinned. “I’d love to be able to walk again.”
I
hugged him, tears filling my eyes. “Oh, Frank. This is so wonderful. I’m so happy.”
“I could go to town and get him,” offered Nathan.
“You just came from town. We’ll go tomorrow. We’ll take Frank to see him. Then we can find out more.”
Frank held my hand, squeezing my fingers. “Kiss me, darling.”
My smile could hardly be contained. “I will.” When I stood again, Nathan had gone, not having said one word, which was strange. Perhaps, he didn’t want to watch me kiss my husband.
The promise of happiness was, unfortunately, short-lived. Once we had lifted Frank into the wagon and taken him to Doctor Caldwell the next day, the prognosis hadn’t changed, although he was able to feel a slight tingling in his left leg.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, his spectacles having fallen to the bottom of his nose. “It’s common to feel tingling, but it doesn’t mean sensation will come back fully. Then again, it might be the beginning of a deeper recovery.”
“Well, it’s something at least,” I said.
“It is indeed. I just don't want to give you folks false hope. You keep doing what you’re doing, and let me know if he feels anything more.”
Frank seemed nonplussed. “That’s odd, but I know this is the beginning now. I can sense it. I’ll bounce back, just wait and see.”
“Of course you will,” I said. “Thank you, Dr. Caldwell for seeing us on such short notice.”
“Please stop by whenever you have a question.”
“Thank you. We will.”
Nathan had taken Frank to the wagon, placing him on the wooden bench. I went into the mercantile to purchase tea and sugar, while the men waited for me. When I returned, Nathan had disappeared.
“Where’d he go?”
“We’re going home alone.”
This was a surprise. “But how will I get you down from the wagon?”
“Jerry can help.”
“Where did Mr. Weaver go?”
Frank looked sheepish. “He’s taking care of some business in town.”
“What sort of business?”
“Ahem…it’s of a personal nature.”
I stepped onto the wagon, while he took the reins. “Personal? Is he in the saloon?”
“No.”
Then it hit me. “Oh.”
He’d gone to the brothel! As the wheels began to turn, jolting us into motion, I glanced at the building that stood across the street, seeing clapboard siding that had been painted white. Nathan was in there…removing his clothing, his pants, his shirt, and his shoes. He was touching another woman…holding her in his arms, kissing her. I’d never in my life felt jealousy before, but it had her hooks in me now. During the ride home, disturbing images of what I thought they were doing in that parlour house drifted through my mind. I did not like this one bit.
Chapter Nine
When Frank said he perceived tingles in his right leg, I began to share in his excitement, seeing it as a sign that feeling was slowly returning. To add to this jubilation, the fields were high with corn, and my kitchen garden burst with delicious vegetables. Every day there seemed to be new sensations and palpitations, as Frank regained feeling. He was in such an optimistic mood, that Pastor Bailey gave him the pulpit on Sunday morning, although he had to be seated to read the sermon.
The parishioners, knowing the hardships he had been through, listened with rapt attention, as he spoke about perseverance, citing Exodus 17:9-13. Moses’ challenge was to keep his staff above his head, never letting it drop, in order for the Israelites to prevail. He succeeded in doing this, hour after hour, which necessitated an incredible amount of endurance. The lesson was to never give up, no matter how daunting the task. From the impassioned look on Frank’s face, I knew he believed every word he said. The hope that he would one day walk again was very real.
After the service, people surrounded him, shaking his hand and expressing their gratitude for the moving sermon. A woman brought forth her child, who appeared ill. She was crying.
“Please say a prayer for my boy, Pastor. He’s been sick for so long now.”
The child in question appeared pale; the skin beneath his eyes was darkly colored. Frank held the boy’s hand. “There now. I’m sure he’ll be fine. What’s your name, lad?”
“Brandon,” he rasped.
A look of concern passed over Frank’s features. “You might want to take him to Doc Caldwell, ma’am.”
“I’ve done that. He says there’s nothing he can do.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was hoping a word from you might help. If you could say a little prayer for him.”
“I can do that, but he really should be in bed.” The child, who struggled to stand, began to cough. My husband was seated directly before him. “Does anyone have any water?”
Getting to my feet, I hurried for the small office in the back, pouring fluid from a pitcher into a glass. When I returned, I handed it to the child. “Here you are.” After he had been tended to, his mother took him away. “Oh, goodness. That was successful, Frank. You did a marvelous job with that sermon.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see if Nathan’s available to help you out.” I didn’t have to go far to find him, as he stood outside the church, his hat lowered over his eyes. “He’s ready.” He pushed himself from the building. “May I ask something?”
“Ask whatever you want.”
“Why won’t you stay for the service?”
“It’s not my cup of tea.”
“What’s not?”
“All the God…talk.”
“It’s not all God talk. There are lots of useful things too.”
He brushed past me, murmuring, “Waste of time, I say.”
“Ouf!” I found myself walking into a solid wall of bone and muscle, as Nathan had stopped before me. “Goodness gracious.” Our eyes met.
“I heard what he said. I stood outside listening.”
“You did?”
His smile was imperceptible. “I like what I heard.”
“There might be hope for you after all.”
He waved a finger before my nose. “Don’t put the cart before the horse. There’s a big difference between listening and doing. Don’t expect me to start walking the straight and narrow. It’s not my thing.”
“Fine. I won’t.”
To my shame, we had another moment where our eyes locked and the conversation died, as an undercurrent of energy passed between us. This happened every so often, and it left me feeling almost giddy, but I knew it was sinful. My husband was inside the church waiting for me, and I…stared at another man far longer than what would be considered proper.
“We should go.”
His gaze lowered to my lips. “Yes.”
Sensing danger, I shook myself from the strange fog. “I’ll tell him you’re coming to get him.”
“You do that.”
Inside the building, I took a deep, cleansing breath, squaring my shoulders. “Frank, dear. It’s time we were on our way.”
He was with several people. “I’m being summoned.” His grin was magnanimous. “Thank you, Pastor Bailey, for letting me commandeer the service.”
“It was my pleasure. I was taking notes. I could learn a thing or two from you.”
“Now you’re just flattering me.”
Nathan approached, ready to lift Frank from the chair. Pastor Bailey sprang to action. “Let me help you.”
“One day,” Frank laughed, “I’ll not need this kind of assistance. I’ll run up and down the aisles like a child. Boy, I sure am looking forward to that.” He smiled at me.
Preaching had revitalized Frank, reminding him of how much he enjoyed spreading God’s word and surrounding himself with people. The sensation that had begun in his legs grew by the day, the tingling coming and going, while he discovered he was able to move his little toe. I still had to tend to him, changing his dressings, as he could not use the outhouse yet. He had no feeling in that part of his a
natomy. Mrs. Hermosa’s help was invaluable; the spritely woman did laundry nearly all day long, saving me from the chore. This gave me time to be with Frank. His outlook on things had become even more upbeat, thereby increasing my own happiness.
We had taken to daily walks. He sat in the Bath wheelchair, which allowed him some freedom, but I had to push it. It was a cumbersome contraption, clearly intended only for outdoor purposes, but it allowed us to get some air, and the sun was good for Frank.
“Once I’ve fully recovered, I’m taking you to town for a proper dinner.”
“No. My cooking is far better. Plus, it’s a waste of money spending so much on a single meal. I could buy a week’s worth of rice and beans for that cost.”
“Nonsense. You’ve earned a night out.” He squinted in the sun. “We might want to travel back east and see your family.”
I sighed. “That’s not practical.”
“Maybe next spring.”
“If only they’d bring the railroad out this way.”
“Oh, they will, my dear. Denver City is growing rapidly. More miners come everyday. We’re not the only city growing either. Golden City and Boulder City are booming too.”
“All those men seeking treasure.” I glanced at the cornfield; the neatly planted rows ran as far as the eye could see. “Jerry and Nathan did a good job.”
“They did.”
“Will we ever pay them?”
“Of course. As soon as the harvest, after we sell our product.”
“We’ve been lucky with the farming.” I glanced at his legs, which were positioned inside the wheelchair, the knees resting together at an angle. “But, I guess we can’t have everything.”
He caught the direction of my stare. “There will always be challenges in life, my love; you know that. There will always be sickness and accidents. You must remember to be thankful for your blessings. I’ve suffered a bit of a setback, but I shall recover. I’m feeling more every day. I can move my foot now.”
“That is a good thing.”
He took my hand, as I had stopped pushing the wheelchair. “I want to thank you for everything, Hannah.”
