A Doctor's Vow

by Lois Richer

  Even though it wasn’t a question, Lizzie answered. “Yes.”

  “He very weak now.”

  Frighteningly so. Lizzie hovered at the end of Pa’s bed, her stomach bouncing from pillar to post as she watched and waited. Holt shed his coat and stood at her side. She welcomed his comforting presence.

  Paquette suddenly nodded. “I fix.” She opened a leather pouch and pulled out an array of dried herbs. “I need hot water.” Lizzie sprang forward to help.

  A few minutes later Paquette had produced a noxious smelling liquid. “He drink this. All it. He start get better.”

  “How will he drink? He’s unconscious.”

  Paquette touched Pa’s cheeks and neck then she bent close. “Mister, open your eyes.”

  Lizzie gasped as Pa did so.

  “You drink.” Paquette lifted his head and held the cup to his lips. He swallowed three times.

  “Good.” She turned to Lizzie. “You see he drink all.” She handed Lizzie the cup. “I be done.” She sat at the table.

  Emma, who had refused to go to bed until Holt returned, stared at her.

  Paquette stared right back. Then she smiled. “You be nice girl.”

  The woman had brought something to help Pa. Holt was safe and sound. The relief made her dizzy. Lizzie’s lungs emptied so fast her legs bent. Holt caught her around the waist. She knew she should pull away. Stand on her own two feet. But she’d stood on her own for so long... She welcomed his steadying arm, but how long would he be here to offer it?

  Chapter Fifteen

  A wild rush of emotions drove the cold from Holt’s body as he held Lizzie. Relief, concern and swirling hope all tangled with one another until he couldn’t begin to say what he felt.

  “Give more drink,” Paquette said.

  Holt steadied Lizzie, not releasing her until he was sure she wasn’t going to fold like a towel dropped on the floor.

  She pulled in a long breath then moved to her father’s side and held the cup to his lips. He roused enough to drink some more.

  The night deepened. Emma crawled into bed without being told...mostly because no one thought to tell her. Paquette wrapped her fur around herself and slept near the stove. Edwards had taken the horses to the barn and said he would wait there. Only Holt and Lizzie remained awake, giving Mr. Tate the dreadful smelling drink and watching desperately for signs that he was getting better.

  He sweated profusely, which Paquette said was a good sign. Then, toward the thin dawn, he opened his eyes.

  “Lizzie,” he murmured. “There’s a bad taste in my mouth.”

  She laughed and gave him water. After he drank, he closed his eyes with a contented sigh, the fever broken.

  Lizzie sagged and Holt caught her. Tremors rattled her teeth. He wrapped his arms about her and held her tight, absorbing the tremblings with his body. She clung to him, filling him with a sweet, terrifying knowledge. He loved her. When he left he would leave behind his heart.

  And he would have to go. Staying would bring about nothing but his own death. Perhaps even endanger the lives of Lizzie and her family. Perhaps at some future date God would see fit to allow his name to be cleared. But until then his love was a worthless thing....

  She clutched his shirt front and lifted her face to him. “I was so scared. What would we do if he...?” She swallowed back the word.

  “Hush, God has answered our prayers.”

  The fear in her eyes shifted. Her gaze drove into his soul, searching out his hidden feelings. He tried to mask them, tried to resist the deep longing that rose within him—and failed at both. He bent his head and caught her mouth with his own. The kiss was barely a touch, but he would carry the taste of her sweet mouth beneath his for the rest of his life.

  Then Paquette stirred and they sprang apart. She rolled up her fur and shuffled to Mr. Tate’s side to touch his forehead and run her fingers down his neck. “He be better. Feed him plenty good food. Keep warm.”

  Emma scrambled down from the loft. Checked on her pa. “He’s better?”

  Paquette patted Emma’s head. “He soon be telling you to mind manners.”

  They all laughed, as much from relief as amusement.

  A few minutes later Edwards came in. “The snow has stopped but it’s frightfully cold.”

  “You’re welcome to stay,” Lizzie said.

  “Only until the sun climbs higher. No telling when it will turn worse.”

  Holt knew he should be making the same announcement. Get going while it was still possible. He had fulfilled his promise to Mr. Tate, he owed them nothing.

  But now something stronger than his honor held him here. An emotion so fierce it would keep him with Lizzie at least until he was sure Mr. Tate could take care of Lizzie and her sister again. Even if it meant his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paquette and Mr. Edwards left early that morning, and as the day wore on, Pa steadily grew stronger. Lizzie’s happiness knew no bounds, magnified as it was by Holt’s presence.

  His kiss had affected her deeply. Never had she felt this way before...full of a joy that danced across her senses.

  She tried to temper it with reason. After all, he had made no promises. Over and over she caught him staring out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, and she knew he had one foot out the door and she had no claim on him.

  Yet she wondered how she would manage when he left. Certainly Pa would soon be able to spend a few hours in the store. And God willing, be able in time to take over the outside chores.

  But it wasn’t the work that would make her miss Holt. It was the loneliness in her soul that hovered in the background. For a moment she considered suggesting she go with him when he left. Her heart leapt at the idea, but her head reminded her that her family needed her here.

  Holt stepped through the door. “It’s bright and sunny today. After that storm, I reckon the good weather will last a few days.”

  Something in his voice screeched along her nerves and she took her time drying her hands and facing him, as if by delaying she could avoid what he had to say.

  He waited until her gaze finally met his, let her see his regret as well as his resolve. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  Only by holding her breath was she able to bite back a cry. She counted to three. Then ten. Eventually she spoke, hoping her voice wouldn’t reveal the depth of her pain. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

  He nodded. “I know. But I can’t.” He reached for her hands and drew her to the table, urged her to sit and pulled a chair to her side. “I am a wanted man, Lizzie.”

  The statement was so ridiculous that she felt a giggle tickling her throat.

  “I’m accused of rustling cows and there are people who will testify that I’ve done it.”

  “How absurd. Why would they say such a thing?”

  He cupped her face in his palm and gave her a look so full of tenderness her vision blurred. “Lizzie, you are sweet. How do you know I’m not guilty?”

  Heat burned her cheeks and she was sure they must flash a telltale red. She’d spoken on pure instinct but she had no doubt of his innocence. “You are a God-fearing man. You would not steal. Tell me what happened?”

  He trailed his fingers down her cheeks. His gaze lingered on her eyes with delightful pleasure that filled her insides with sweet music. “I rented some land and started to gather up a herd of cows. The big rancher next to my land kept reporting his cows were going missing, claimed they’d been stolen. It wasn’t me, but someone framed me. Produced several witnesses who said they saw me branding a steer that belonged to my neighbor. Frontier justice would see me hanged. I decided I didn’t much care for that sort of justice and headed for the Canadian border.”

  “But you stopped here. Why?” It put him in
so much danger she dare not consider it.

  “You needed help. I made a promise.” He stroked her cheek. “And I don’t regret it one bit.” He kissed her, so full of tenderness and unspoken love that she ached clear through.

  “I...I know you have to go. But...I could go with you.”

  His grin was crooked. “You can’t leave Emma and your father. Our lives must go in different directions from here.” His voice sliced through her insides, echoing her own painful conclusion.

  “I don’t want you to leave, but I understand you have to.”

  If only there were some way she could keep morning from coming.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Holt pushed from his sleep to the sound of a thousand stampeding animals. He shook his head. The walls of the little room in the livery barn where he slept groaned. In a flash he’d pulled on his boots and shrugged into his coat before he rushed to open the door. A blast of wet wind chilled him and he slammed the door shut. But he’d seen enough to know a snowstorm was sweeping down the street, the snow so thick he couldn’t see the buildings on the other side.

  “Well, I can’t leave now,” he muttered. He couldn’t find one bit of regret at the knowledge. Another day with Lizzie. Time to build memories to last forever.

  Pulling his hat down tight and securing it with his woolen scarf, he pushed into the storm. The snow swirled, making it impossible to know where he was. It stuck to his eyelashes. But he forged onward, mentally counting the steps to the store. It should be close. He squinted into the storm, caught a flicker of golden light and made his way toward it. Crashed into the door.

  Lizzie threw it open and drew him inside. “I feared you would venture out and get lost.”

  “This is as far as I’m going until the storm lets up.”

  “Then I’m glad for the storm.” Her words were low, meant only for his ears. He brushed the snow from his lashes so he could look at her better. The smile in her eyes drove away the chill from the wind.

  “I’m glad, too.” At least the storm meant his pursuers would not be able to make progress, either. Though he still wondered why they hadn’t caught up to him by now. He could only thank God for the reprieve it allowed him.

  He meant to enjoy every extra moment.

  “You want to play with Miss Ellen?” Emma said.

  “After breakfast,” Lizzie warned, her eyes revealing amusement and regret. “She’ll miss you.” She kept her voice soft enough that only he heard her.

  Mr. Tate was up, shaking the coffeepot. Lizzie hurried to the stove to dish up porridge. Emma sat at the table, her doll beside her bowl.

  Holt leaned back and watched the scene. If only he could be part of this beyond today. He shut down the longing in his heart. Circumstances had sent him on a different course.

  After breakfast they played a board game, then Lizzie brought out a photograph album and introduced him to her relatives. They sat side by side, Emma on his knee, and he leaned close, breathing in the scent of Lizzie, imprinting it and the shape of her features on his mind.

  And he asked God to make the storm last forever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lizzie wished the day would never end. Having Holt at her side, knowing it could not last was bittersweet.

  During the night the storm ended and the next day was sunshine, bright and warm enough to make a person happy to go out to do chores. And encourage a wanted man to leave town. Holt would be on his way today. She leaned over the pile of wood to catch her breath. He’d said he would say goodbye before he left.

  She made an extra large breakfast, baked biscuits and cookies for his journey.

  When he came, his eyes were drawn down at the corners. Without speaking a word, she realized how much he wanted to stay. She realized he struggled with the idea and fear gripped her.

  “You must leave. I couldn’t bear to see you hang. Maybe someday your name will be cleared and then...”

  Pa had gone to the store to fetch some raisins. Emma dug about in her belongings in the loft, leaving them virtually alone.

  “When it is, I’ll be back,” he said. “I wish I could give you some sort of promise...but I can’t. Don’t wait for me, Lizzie.”

  She caught a cry between her teeth. She wouldn’t make this any harder.

  Pa came in just as Emma scampered down the ladder. They all sat around the table and Lizzie began to serve breakfast, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

  After a couple of minutes, Holt put down his fork carefully. “I’ll be on my way this morning,” he announced to them all.

  Emma’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to leave.”

  “I’m afraid I do.” He faced Pa. “There are reasons.” He darted a glance at Emma as if wondering how much he should say in front of her.

  Pa met his eyes then nodded. “I appreciate your help. May God be with you.”

  Customers trailed into the store and Pa rose to tend to them.

  Lizzie went to the doorway with her father to speak to him privately. “Pa, there are men after him. He’s been falsely accused of rustling and will hang if he’s caught.”

  Holt joined her. “I assure you I’m innocent.”

  “I never doubted otherwise.” He gripped Holt’s shoulder. “We will pray for God’s justice.”

  “I wish I could believe it will prevail.”

  “Son, never lose faith.”

  From the look on Holt’s face she knew he had trouble believing in justice. Even as she did. Why would God allow a good man to be falsely accused? Why would He bring such a man into her life only to tear him away?

  Pa patted her shoulder. “Go say goodbye. For now. Until God answers our prayers.”

  “Thank you, Pa.” As her father entered the store, she grabbed Holt and drew him back to the table, filling his plate with eggs and bacon, refilling his coffee cup several times. They both recognized it as her way of delaying his departure. But he seemed content to let her.

  Suddenly Pa ducked into the living quarters, pulling the adjoining door closed behind him.

  At the fear on his face, Lizzie let the coffeepot slam to the table.

  “There are two men out front asking after you,” Mr. Tate said.

  Holt bolted to his feet. “They’ve caught up with me.”

  “I didn’t tell them you were here. There’s no one in the store who knows. So unless they start asking around at the livery barn...”

  He could still get away. But he had only a few minutes at best to escape the noose.

  Chapter Nineteen

  There were men on the other side of the door, ready to arrest Holt and convict him of a crime he didn’t commit. He knew he had to go, but somehow Holt couldn’t tear himself away from Lizzie. Couldn’t get enough of drinking in her features.

  She spun away. “You must go now.” Lizzie handed him his coat and stuck food in a bag. “Hurry.”

  Emma whimpered but her father pulled her to his side. “It’s time, little one. Say goodbye.”

  The child rushed over and threw her arms about Holt. He lifted her, pressing her face to his neck. “I’m going to miss you and Miss Ellen.”

  He reluctantly released her to her father’s arms and turned to Lizzie. Her mouth begged him to hurry and leave; her eyes begged him to stay. If only he could. But it would cost him his life, maybe even hers. The best thing he could do was ride away and leave these people safe and sound, not at the mercy of men who would accuse them of harboring a criminal.

  He continued to study Lizzie. He wanted so badly to kiss her but her father watched. “Sir, do you mind?”

  Mr. Tate grinned. “Go ahead.”

  He kissed her, acutely conscious of his audience. “I will miss you always,” he murmured.

  She cupped his cheek, her ey
es bright. “Go. Be safe.”

  His horse waited at the back door. He hooked the bag of food to the saddle and swung up. His last image before he rode away was of Lizzie with her father’s arm about her. Avoiding the front of the store, where he might be seen, he headed north.

  The sun shone brightly. He should make good time today. In a few more days he would be safe in the Canadian Rockies, holed up someplace for the winter.

  God’s justice, Mr. Tate had said, as if believing in that were enough. Where was God when Holt had been falsely accused? Why hadn’t He intervened?

  Had Holt ever asked? Ever expected it? Given God a chance?

  But if he turned around right now and rode back to face his accusers, would he end up at the wrong end of a hangman’s noose?

  He realized his horse had stopped walking, as if waiting for Holt to make up his mind what he wanted. Run and save his life? Go back and maybe hang? Or maybe prove his innocence and be free to tell Lizzie what was in his heart.

  Was his love for her reason enough to risk dying?

  He heard a sound behind him and spurred his horse into a run.

  * * *

  He was gone. The words wailed through Lizzie’s insides. God, keep him safe. She pushed thoughts of Holt aside and kept herself busy at the stove. But it was impossible. Her heart called her to go after Holt.

  And yet how could she? Who would look after Pa and Emma? If she left right now, could she even catch up to him?

  She sighed. How foolish to even think such things. She could not abandon her family. Not even for the sake of her heart.

  Pa tended to the customers in the store. It seemed unusually busy today as people stocked up before winter really set in. He came into the room. “The mail came through.” He handed her several letters. She glanced at them. All from aunts and other relatives. “Go ahead and read them. Might serve to cheer you up.”

  “Are those men still there?”

  “They are. Asking questions of everyone.”