“Anyway, I thought about Suzanne and found an ad from Philip Dawes looking for a bride. It was in the same town as Suzanne, so I took a chance and wrote to Mr. Dawes. His letters impressed me, and I can see now he is the same good man in person as he was in his letters. So now I’m here, and I’ve never felt so blessed in my whole life. The people here are wonderful and accept me for who and what I am.”
She patted her cheeks with a handkerchief. “I mustn’t take up any more of your time. Just remember what I said. You know where to find me if you need me.”
Elliot stared after her departing form. With all that had happened to Sophia, she still showed concern for him and his situation. What a good friend she would be. Maybe her coming to Porterfield wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. He wasn’t the only one in the world with troubles and tragedy in life, and he wouldn’t be the last. It would do him well to remember that, but if Sophia’s old friends had deserted her in time of need, what would the people here do if they learned the truth about him? All he could do now was to believe she’d keep her word, and his secret would be safe.
Abigail stood by the window of the library and spotted Sophia leaving the infirmary. She’d been in there awhile. She hoped Sophia hadn’t taken ill after being here such a short time. From what she had seen between the two of them, they shared something from the past, and it must have to do with why Elliot had left Cleveland, but neither one seemed to want to acknowledge knowing each other.
She turned away from the window when a patron called her over to check out a book. Being so late in the afternoon now, even the children had left to go home for supper. When this one left, she’d be alone.
After the man left, the bell jingled again, signaling someone’s arrival. Abigail’s eyes opened wide. What was Sophia doing here?
“Good afternoon, Sophia. How can I help you?”
“I just thought I’d drop by for a visit since I was in town. Philip is out on a run with Allen, and so I came in to purchase some things from the general store.”
“I just saw you come out of the infirmary. Are you ill?” Well, how was that for being nosy. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? “Oh, no. I just stopped in to visit with Elliot. We’re old friends, and we haven’t had a chance to visit.”
At last she admitted to a friendship. Now if only she’d share what she knew about Elliot. “I thought you might be, seeing as how you’re from the same city.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes and studied Abigail for a minute. “So there is interest in our physician?”
How much should she admit? Perhaps the truth would bring more information than evasion. “I suppose there is,” she confided. “Although I didn’t come to Porterfield looking for a man, there’s something about Elliot that draws me. The sadness I see in his eyes makes me want to know him better and take away some of that pain and help him to see how much God loves him too.”
Sophia smiled warmly. “If anyone could do that for Elliot, I believe you’re the one who could accomplish it. How could he resist your charm?”
Abigail shrugged. “He’s done a pretty fair job of doing just that so far. Although he did ask me to attend the Fall Festival with him, and we had a delightful time.” But he’d mostly ignored her since then.
“I knew Elliot in Cleveland, and he had a rough time there. I can’t go into details because I promised him I wouldn’t, but suffice it to say he needs encouragement and friendship more than anything else. Keep praying for him to see God’s love in those around him. He feels pretty much alone and abandoned by God at the moment.”
Abigail sighed and nodded. “I figured as much. He’s a wonderful doctor. Kate, his nurse, has told me about some of the things he has done to help people here in Porterfield. They all respect Elliot and his uncle.” And she was beginning to care more about him than she really wanted to admit. Only the matter of his religious beliefs stood in the way of her falling for him completely. And the fact that he didn’t pursue her.
“I can see that you care a great deal about Elliot, and I want to do everything I can to help you. I’m expecting a letter from some friends in Cleveland that might help, but your friendship and encouragement should go a long way.”
Abigail’s eyes glistened with tears. “Oh, I pray so, Sophia. I do pray so.”
“Then we’ll both be praying for the best outcome.” She turned toward the door as the bell rang. “I see you have someone needing assistance, so I’ll leave and hope we will have another conversation very soon.”
Abigail turned her attention to the new patron, but her mind still dwelled on Elliot and what she could do to show him how much God loved him. What could she do that would heal the pain in his past? She had no idea. But she prayed that the anticipated letter would do some good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELLIOT MADE A few notations on Erin Winston’s chart. She had just left from having her checkup for the baby, and he had told her that it was now only a matter of weeks. He dropped his pen on the desk and rubbed his temples.
Over the last week Sophia had kept her word and not said anything to anyone about Angela, but it gave him little comfort. A knock sounded on the door frame, and he glanced up to see his uncle.
“About finished up here? It’s getting close to noon, so I’m heading home to eat. Thought you might want to walk with me.”
Elliot grabbed his coat and hat from the rack beside his desk. “I think I’ll do just that. My stomach is letting me know it’s time for food.” He shoved his arms into his coat and turned his head so his uncle wouldn’t detect the worry he bore.
They stepped outside to bright sunshine and another mild fall day. The air had enough chill to warrant a coat, but the sunshine kept the temperature up to a comfortable level. His uncle kept silent for the first few blocks, but as they crossed the street near the boardinghouse, Doc cleared his throat.
“Are you planning to attend the big party Kate and Daniel are giving for Sophia and Philip? Their wedding is only a week away.”
“I hadn’t thought much about it. I heard it is to be a pounding so they will have their kitchen stocked in their new home.”
“That’s right. The ladies plan to make sure the couple has plenty of flour, sugar, meal, and staples like that.” He paused a moment then stopped in the middle of the walkway. “Have you spoken to Sophia?”
A vise tightened about Elliot’s chest. “Yes, and she has kept her word about not telling others what happened, but she strongly advised me to do so and to quit blaming myself. After hearing her story, I do realize I’m not the only one with problems.”
Doc resumed walking. “She’s right, you know. You do need to quit feeling so much guilt and be willing to forgive yourself.”
It wasn’t going to happen. No matter what they said, he couldn’t get past the fact that if he’d used available medical knowledge, he could have saved Angela.
They entered the house, and wonderful aromas of homemade soup, cornbread, and apple pie wafted from the kitchen. Elliot breathed in deeply and removed his coat. Nothing like a good bowl of hot soup on a cool fall day to help a body forget his troubles.
Aunt Maggie greeted them and nodded toward the table. “It’s all ready for you. Wash up and have a seat.”
A few minutes later Doc had said the blessing, and Elliot sliced off a chunk of cornbread. His mind churned with all the events of the past days since Sophia’s arrival. When he first came to town, he’d managed to push thoughts of Angela into the background, but Abigail’s arrival and then Sophia’s had planted it squarely in his life once again.
He’d taken the blame for so long, that now thinking about letting it go seemed all but impossible. Abigail stirred up long buried and forgotten emotions, but he didn’t want to explore them now that Sophia was here. If only he could put the past behind him. He almost choked on his soup. Isn’t that exactly what people had been telling him to do?
“Are you all right, Elliot?”
His aunt calling his name jerked
him back to the present. “What was that, Aunt Maggie?”
“I asked if you’re all right. What has your mind so troubled today?”
Elliot clenched his teeth trying to find the answer when his uncle spoke. “He’s probably thinking about Sophia Langston.”
His aunt pursed her lips. “Oh. I see. Brings back a lot of bad memories, I’m sure, but having her here could be a very good thing.”
How that would be possible, Elliot couldn’t see. He kept waiting for the worst scenario of his secret being exposed even though Sophia had promised to keep quiet. What had happened to Sophia when her family was ruined could very well be the same for him once people found out he’d been negligent with a patient. They would lose all their trust in him as a physician.
“Son, I know you’re tired of hearing it, but you have to move ahead in life. Holding on to the tragedy of the past keeps you from doing that. Doc and I have worried about you, and as we both have said so many times, it wasn’t your fault. You have to quit blaming yourself.”
Easy for her to say but not for him to do. He’d wrestled with it often and came to the same conclusion each time. He should have been able to save Angela. Even though, as a doctor, he understood death could be inevitable in many cases, it shouldn’t have been in this one. Concealing the story had become burdensome, but it was a burden he wasn’t ready to lay down.
Doc took off his glasses and polished them with his napkin. “Just what are you afraid of with Sophia?”
“That she’ll let Henry Wilder get the story he wants from her. He knows we were acquainted in Cleveland, and knowing him, he won’t let go of this until he has it all out in the open. My patients would never trust me again if they knew I’d let someone die.”
“Horsefeathers.” Aunt Maggie’s eyebrows raised and her eyes sparked fire. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard you say yet. People here love you and respect you. They know people die. Why, Doc here has lost a few patients himself, and as hard as it is, it’s a part of life, and those of us on the frontier know that better than most folks.”
Doc chimed in. “She’s right. Nobody has any guarantees in life. You could walk out of here and be run over by a carriage or drop dead of a heart attack. Only God knows the time and place of each person’s death. When the time comes, the time comes.”
“That’s one reason I’m so angry about it. Angela and I were ready to begin our life together. What good did God think would come of ending her life before we had our chance at love and marriage?”
Aunt Maggie reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Elliot, dear, we don’t understand the way God works, but the Bible tells us that even when tragedy strikes, He always uses it for good. We have to trust Him and His plans for our lives. What is planned for us is not always what we plan for ourselves.”
Death was certainly not what he had planned with Angela, but God apparently did, and that Elliot could not accept. He could see no possible good that her death might bring. It had only brought heartache and sadness to so many people. Where was the good in that? And even if something good eventually came of it, he could not imagine it being worth all the suffering that preceded it.
He didn’t care to hear any more, so he dropped his napkin on the table and stood. “I’ll be at the infirmary. Thank you for the lunch. The soup was delicious.”
Elliot headed for the door and grabbed his coat and hat on the way out. Clouds now blocked the sun, and the dreary day matched the mood that fell on him during the meal. He pulled the collar of his coat tighter about his neck. Thanksgiving was next week, but again this year he could not find anything for which he wanted to give thanks.
Abigail walked back with Mr. Fuller to the bank, where she planned to deposit another check from her grandfather’s trust to add to her funds. She listened with half her mind as Mr. Fuller went on about Aunt Mae and her cooking. Why he hadn’t asked Aunt Mae to marry him remained a mystery to Abigail as well as to Kate and her family. Of course, Aunt Mae’s independent spirit may have something to do with it.
When they passed by the infirmary, she noticed Elliot unlocking the door and going inside. Ever since Miss Langston arrived, he seemed to have isolated himself even more. After hearing Sophia’s explanation, she understood a little better, but why did it keep him from visiting her? She’d just have to make more effort to see him.
Mr. Fuller spoke her name. “Miss Monroe, we are so pleased to have you as a customer at the bank. Mr. Weygandt said just the other day that having a library in town has certainly been an asset.”
Abigail pulled her gaze from the infirmary and back to the bank teller. “Thank you, Mr. Fuller. It’s been quite exciting to see the response from everyone.”
They reached the bank entrance, and Abigail noticed four riders headed into town from the direction of the courthouse. At this time of day, only light traffic filled the streets. These men must be ranchers coming in to deposit their pay. Usually a large number of them came in on Friday nights and spent most of what they’d earned on women and hard drink. They rode easily in their saddles like cowboys, so she turned her head back to the bank and followed Mr. Fuller inside.
She waved at Mr. Weygandt, the bank president, and stood at the teller window. Mr. Fuller pulled a dark blue visor over his forehead and opened up. She finished her transaction and turned to leave. But two men stood blocking the door.
They were two of the cowboys she’d spotted riding into town, but this time their neckerchiefs were pulled up to cover their faces. Abigail choked back a cry and attempted to pass by. One of them grabbed her arm then pointed a gun toward Mr. Fuller. The other man drew his gun and headed toward Mr. Weygandt.
Abigail wanted to scream, but her throat closed and her heart pounded. No sound came from her mouth. The man’s hold tightened on her arm when she tried to jerk away.
“Don’t try anything, miss. Keep still.” He tossed a bag at Mr. Fuller then pointed a gun at the teller. “Fill it up with all your cash.”
Mr. Fuller’s hands shook as he stacked bills and shoved them into the bag. Then he swept the coins off the counter into the bag. All the time the other robber held Mr. Weygandt at gunpoint and pushed him toward the vault.
He handed another bag to the president. “Get the cash from the vault.”
Abigail opened her mouth in an attempt to scream again, but only a squeak emerged. This was enough to anger the man beside her. He released his hold long enough to slap his palm across her cheek. “Do that again, and I’ll make sure you don’t make any noise.”
From the corner of her eye she spotted Mr. Fuller reaching under his counter. The gunman squeezed her arm then strode the few steps to the window, pulling her with him. He brought his gun down on the teller’s head, and Mr. Fuller slumped to the floor, blood oozing from the wound. The robber holstered his gun and gathered up the sack of money with his free hand.
Mr. Weygandt finished stuffing the money from the vault into the other robber’s bag and stepped forward to see about Mr. Fuller. That’s when the gunman at the vault shot the banker. The one holding Abigail cursed a blue streak and dragged her with him, kicking and yelling, out to the rear of the bank where two other men waited with the horses. She opened her mouth to scream louder, but something smashed into her face and her brain exploded in a rainbow of color before blackness enveloped her.
A gunshot rang out from the bank, followed by the screams of a woman standing on the boardwalk outside the bank. Cory ran toward the bank, yelling for the others to get out of the way. If the bank was being robbed, he didn’t want to chance anyone else getting in the way.
He slammed through the bank doors to find Mr. Weygandt bleeding on the floor and an unconscious Mr. Fuller nearby. Sheriff Rutherford slid to a stop behind Cory. “I heard a shot . . .” He took one look and yelled over his shoulder, “Get the doc, quick.”
Mr. Weygandt waved his hand toward the back. “They went out that way, and they have Abigail Monroe with them.”
Cory’s
heart jumped to his throat. Abigail? How did she get mixed up in this? Visions of what the outlaws could do to her caused his stomach to turn. They had to rescue her.
The sheriff went outside then returned with two men. “Stay here until Doc arrives. We have to go after them.”
Cory snapped back to his duty and raced out to where his horse was hitched and swung up into the saddle. He and Rutherford were of the same mind. He heard his name and turned to see Daniel running toward him.
“Cory, is it true the bank was robbed and they took Abigail with them?”
“Yes, and we’re going after them now.”
“I’m coming too. She’s my sister.”
Sheriff Rutherford held out his hand to stop Daniel. “No, stay here and let us handle it. I’m leaving you in charge here again.” He pointed to three others, including Frank Cahoon and an Indian Scout named Hawkeye. “You, you, and you get saddled. I’m deputizing you to ride with us.”
They nodded and mounted their horses. A man on the street called to the sheriff. “I saw them head that way, and they had a woman with them.”
“Thanks, Clem.” Rutherford wheeled his horse around, and the others followed.
Cory dug his heels into his horse’s flank and sped away in a cloud of dust with the sheriff. The sheriff had chosen his men well. Frank was big but fast both on foot and on horseback. Hawkeye was the best tracker in area. If any man could keep on the trail of the robbers, Hawkeye Ramey could. Abigail’s life depended on it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ELLIOT AND DOC raced into the bank and found Mr. Weygandt being treated by one of the townspeople. He had stopped the bleeding with pressure on the wound but gladly relinquished his hold to Elliot while Doc checked on Mr. Fuller.
Daniel stood at the door and kept people away while Elliot worked on the bank president. The sheriff must have left Daniel in charge judging by the badge now pinned to his coat. Elliot glanced up at the man who had helped the banker. “What happened here?”
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