Carol squeezed her friend’s hand and closed her eyes. Would it be so bad to hope? Yes, she'd be very disappointed if it didn't work and she would still try to wiggle her toes every day. But her life was a good one. Even if she wasn't able to work at the library, when she had been home she’d felt very safe and secure. This wouldn't make any difference, whether it worked or not. But she was willing to give anything a try.
Chapter 13
Will tipped his hat at the doctor and watched him walk down the boardwalk, thinking about what he'd said. It wasn't much but he seemed pretty proud of the fact that he was going to try to help that pretty girl see if she could walk again. Well, he hadn't actually said he was going to try to help the girl but he had dealt with the doctor before, helping them with some of his tools, and the doctor just seemed excited about these kinds of things.
After he’d shown Will the article in that magazine, his eyes lit up with excitement. Will had told him good luck and actually meant it. As the doctor turned the corner at the end of the boardwalk, Will turned back and looked in the windows of the new library. The schoolteacher was in there with the pretty girl—Carol Benson—stamping what looked like a stack of books. They were probably getting ready for the open house that was the next day.
He stood for a while watching as they talked, wondering what it must be like to be in a chair with wheels, not really able to get around on your own. The chair had a handle on the front to pull her around, but that would mean somebody would always have to be there to do that for her. He tilted his head and tried to see around the back of the chair, wondering how exactly they put it together.
With a closer look, he was able to see how the drawing that he’d already been working on was wrong, and he’d need to start over. He almost had it all worked out in his head and he was getting ready to go home and draw it out on paper when the schoolteacher opened the door and almost knocked into him.
"Oh, Will, I didn't see you there," Mrs. Tate said as she walked out onto the boardwalk, tying the ribbons of her bonnet underneath her chin.
Will took off his hat and nodded at the schoolteacher. "No harm, ma'am. I was just heading back to the shop."
Mrs. Tate looked up and down the street, frowning. "Oh. I was hoping you'd come by to look at some other shelving. When you stopped the other day, I completely forgot to ask. I know it won’t be ready in time for the open house tomorrow night, but I was hoping that maybe you could take a look at it and see if it was something you could make.”
Will stood up straighter and his ears flushed. He’d forgotten all about the request that Mr. and Mrs. Tate had made just the other day at church about coming in to look at a way to stack the paperwork. He’d meant to come in the day he saw Carol at the mercantile, but he'd forgotten all about it with Mr. Archer's latches and all the other stuff he was thinking about. And when he had come in, it had slipped his mind. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate. I forgot to ask about it, too.”
Mrs. Tate laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "That's all right, Will. I know you always have a lot on your mind. But I do need it. Would now be a good time for you to look? I'm heading to the post office for a moment and Carol’s just inside. I'm sure she wouldn't mind the company. I'm sure you wouldn't disturb her at all."
Will twisted the brim of his hat in his hands as he leaned back and peered in the window. Carol was still stamping books, and he would just be in the corner and probably not bother her at all. Besides, he might get a better look at the chair, especially the wheels. He still wanted to know exactly how it worked.
"Sure thing, Mrs. Tate. Happy to do it."
Mrs. Tate nodded at him and held the door wide open, ushering him inside. "I shouldn't be too long, Will, in case you have any questions. Thank you."
Will nodded and watched as she walked down the boardwalk toward the post office in quick, crisp strides. As she turned the corner, he stepped into the library, quietly shutting the door behind him. Carol was intent on her work, stamping books and putting them aside. She set them in different stacks as she looked at them. Her back was to him, and he noticed the lovely color of her hair. It was clear she hadn't noticed him come in. He felt a twinge in his stomach as he figured he should say something so he didn't startle her.
He cleared his throat and waited for a moment, but she was so involved in what she was doing she didn't even turn around.
"Miss Benson?" he said as he took a step forward, his hat still in his hands. She closed the book in front of her and turned as best she could in her chair, smiling up at him. Her eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen—well, since the last time he'd seen hers, and he felt that same hitch in his throat. He wasn't here for that now, though, and he walked forward so she didn't have to turn around so hard to see him.
"Hello, Mr. Stanton," Carol said as he moved the books aside. "How nice to see you again."
He reminded himself he wasn’t there for pretty girls or pretty eyes. Not when there were problems to solve. “I’m sorry to bother you. Mrs. Tate had asked me a few days ago to check the corner for the new stacking rack she wants and I forgot. She said this might be a good time, as she’d like them done before the open house tomorrow night.”
Carol looked around the room and the smell of lavender floated in the air as her hair fell over her shoulder. “I don’t know where they keep those. I’m sorry,” she said as she frowned.
Will smiled and headed to the corner. “It’s not something they have yet, so nowhere to keep them. She’d asked for a rack to put the notices in when somebody borrows a book.”
Carol craned her neck to see in the corner where Will was headed. She tried to push herself back from the table but the chair wouldn’t budge. She pushed harder, and as she did, her hand slipped and she knocked the stack of books to the floor.
“Oh!” she cried as the books tumbled, some resting at her feet and some falling under the table. She reached over the side of the chair, her fingertips stopping inches from the first book. As she struggled, Will’s hand brushed hers as he crouched beside her, tossing his black hat onto the table. On his hands and knees, he crawled under the table and gathered the books.
Carol shook her head and groaned, her face falling into her hands. Flooded with embarrassment, she turned away from Will, gathering her hair that had fallen out of its neat bun into her hands.
She heard him sit in the chair next to her, and she quickly twisted the top part of her hair, reaching for the pins on her lap where they’d fallen.
“Everything’s all right. The books are back where they belong,” he said softly as he set the books back in a stack in front of her.
She gave up on her hair as most of the pins had fallen to the floor, only managing to corral some of it into a bun on top of her head. The rest she was forced to leave alone and fell down her back.
As she gathered herself, she cleared her throat and turned back to Will, her face still flushed. She breathed deeply a few times and forced a smile.
“Thank you. I’m sorry—I wish I was able to do those things on my own.”
The look of concern passed from Will’s face and was replaced with a slight grin. “I’m happy to help.”
Her eyebrows rose as she met his kind gaze. She believed he meant it, but her embarrassment still simmered just below the surface as she smoothed her dress.
“Looks like maybe that chair isn’t helping as much as it could,” he said as he stood and folded his arms over his chest, walking around the chair. “Do you mind if I pull it back for you?”
Carol sighed and shook her head, her hands folded in her lap. As he pulled the chair back, her embarrassment rose again to a rapid boil as her stomach grumbled. She’d been working all morning with Rose and they hadn’t taken any time to eat, the lunch Saffron had prepared for her still behind the desk.
Will’s hand appeared in front of her, holding a cookie. She turned to look up at him, his dark eyes crinkling. “Sounds like you’re hungry. Happy to share my favorite cookie with you,” he said a
s she slowly accepted his offer.
“Oh, goodness. Not only can I not pick up books, but I can’t even get over to my lunch,” she said as she placed a piece of the delicious cookie on her tongue. She was so hungry that she must have made a happy noise, as he laughed.
“They’re the best. Ma never bakes anymore, but she did today for some reason and I stole a couple. They’re my favorite.”
Carol shook off the event as she smiled up at Will. “Even more gracious of you to share, then,” she said, actually able to smile again.
As she ate, Will circled the chair several times and looked up once or twice toward the highest of the book shelves. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but as he wasn’t the talkative type she decided to let him talk first.
Eventually, he asked, “Were you born like this? Not being able to walk?”
Carol wasn’t one to lose her composure, and she didn’t now although it took all she had not to. She talked frequently with many, many people—strangers and friends—but no one had ever asked her that question directly. Her breath hitched, and she felt a longing to share with him what she did remember.
She talked about it rarely—in fact hardly ever—as it was very difficult for her brothers to re-visit the tragic accident that had killed their parents and left her unable to walk. Too many dreams shattered for all of them, and for a long time she remembered very little.
She looked up at Will, his eyes intent on hers as he waited patiently. She wanted more than anything to share with this kind man what she was feeling—her frustration, her sorrow, her hope—although she wasn’t quite sure why.
She cleared her throat to begin and leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on the table. As Will sat back in his chair, his eyes not leaving hers, the bells on the door jingled and Saffron rushed in. She stopped to catch her breath as she waved a telegram in front of her.
“Carol,” she said between gulps of air as she caught her breath. “Your old friend Dennis is coming. He’ll be here next week.”
Chapter 14
Carol splashed cold water on her face, taking in a quick breath as she reached for the towel next to the wash basin. It had been one of the busiest days she thought she could possibly ever remember, and she was hoping that the cold water would help wake her up because it was almost time to leave for the open house that she had been waiting for for over a week.
She rubbed the towel over her face and down her neck, her eyes closed. She hadn't had time to take a small rest even, but she was pleased that her stamina was holding her in good stead. It made her hopeful.
Her day had started out in the kitchen as she wasn't expected at the library until after lunch time. People were bringing different types of desserts to the library for the open house, and she wanted to be one of those who did. She’d scratched her head early in the morning, wondering what she could make—especially as this was all new to her. She’d never made cookies before and she wasn't even sure that Saffron had a recipe for what she wanted to try. The cookie that Will had given her yesterday was delicious, and she wanted hers to be equally good.
She’d considered asking Saffron to help her, but at breakfast Saffron had announced that she needed to go to Archer Ranch to run an errand. Carol had settled on just asking Saffron if she could look through the recipes just for general information. She didn't tell her what she was going to do. She’d pulled Andy aside before he left for school and asked him to stoke the fire in the stove for her. He looked at her questioningly, but seemed to think better of it and as he was her champion, he did as she asked.
She also asked him to reach up and bring down the flour, eggs and butter. Before they left, she’d also asked him to move her chair over toward the spices and the bowls. She thought maybe with that preparation she would be able to pull something off.
It had taken a while and she’d done the best she could, and come out with something that she thought was fairly okay. Saffron was due to be back sooner than she was ready for her to, so she'd hastily bundled up all the cookies and tied them into a gingham handkerchief, not wanting the boys to eat them after they came home from school. She hid them in a drawer where she would be able to get them before they left for the open house.
Although that was only hours ago it seemed like days, because shortly after that she’d gone to the library to help Rose make final preparations. As best she could, she helped feather dust the bookshelves that she could reach, then Rose would move her to a different spot. It was a bit cumbersome, but it was the best she could do and she was able to make her own contribution.
Now, after such a busy day, it was finally time to get ready for the actual open house. She felt a little livelier after having splashed water on her face, and she opened her eyes, peering in the mirror. She reached for the brush on the vanity, and took long strokes down her hair. She caught her own gaze in the mirror, and shivered a bit as she remembered what Will had said, when her hair had fallen out of its bun. She never really looked at herself much in the mirror, most of her attention taken by getting around, getting dressed, and doing things she needed to do. But with Dennis coming, she thought maybe she’d better take a different look and she tried a couple different hairstyles as quickly as she could.
Her lack of skill showed when each one of them fell out, the pins she put in not holding. She finally gave up, putting part of her hair in a bun and leaving the rest down—if Will said it looked nice, maybe others might agree.
She wriggled into her yellow dress that Saffron had left out for her, reaching for a yellow ribbon. She tied the ribbon around her bun and waited as the clock struck three. Adam and Saffron would be coming for her soon and she wanted to make sure she was ready.
Chapter 15
Will pulled the nail out of the drawing and took it off the post in the blacksmith shop. He’d spent the day with Joe, talking over the drawings and helping them make the poles just the way he’d designed them. He’d been up almost all night, a pencil behind one ear while his hand drew furiously. Once again, he’d woken up with his forehead on the table. But that's always how it was when he got an idea.
Joe had been working feverishly on both designs, the one for the paper stacking rack and the pole project that he’d thrown at him at the last minute. Fortunately, the paper racks hadn't taken Joe very long and they'd spent the rest of the day on the poles that he’d come up with when he’d been in the library with Carol.
While he was measuring the space where Mrs. Tate wanted the paper racks, he’d glanced as many times as he could at the chair that Carol sat in with the wheels on it. The metal handle in front was fine if you had somebody to pull you around, but it wasn't going to allow her to move anywhere on her own.
He’d stared at it for some time and finally had had an idea of how she might be able to do that since there wasn’t anything nicer available. Now, as he held those poles in his hands, a wave of doubt washed over him. What if she didn't even want them? Well, if she didn't want them there would be somebody who did. That is, if they worked.
"Thanks, Joe. I know this put some of your other work behind, but I really wanted Carol to be able to try them out tonight at the open house." Will clapped Joe on the back as he took the poles. The rack had been sitting by the door for hours and was ready to go over to the library.
Joe shook his head. “Carol, now, is it?” he said as he laughed and lifted his eyebrows at Will.
Will felt his ears warm. “Miss Benson, I mean. I just wanted to see if I could help.”
Joe sighed. “I know better than to argue with you if you got something on that brain of yours. Guess it just had to be done." Joe untied the heavy leather apron and pulled it over his head. "Are you going to take them over to the library tonight?"
Will gathered up the poles and the rack and pulled the door open with his free hand. "Yes. The open house doesn't start for another hour, but I imagine Carol—um, Miss Benson—will be there early and I'd like to see if these actually work. Plus, I'd like Mrs. Tate to have her racks b
efore other people come."
Joe hung his apron on the hook by the door and closed off the doors to the forge. "I guess I'll come over and take a look, too. That Carol—Miss Benson—girl seems to have your mind spinning double time. Guess I need to see what that's all about."
Will turned sharply and looked at Joe. "It's nothing like that, Joe. Yeah, she's pretty and all, but I just thought maybe there would be something that we could do to make her life a little easier."
Joe locked the door to the blacksmith shop and they turned out onto the boardwalk. "I'm heading home for a few minutes to clean up. I seem to be the one who got all dirty today, not you."
Will leaned out to look down the street toward the library. "I appreciate that, too, brother. I imagine Ma and Aunt Dorothy will be coming, too. That should make for an interesting evening."
Joe laughed as his boots thudded on the steps down to the street. "That sure is the truth. That aunt of ours. If she could just keep her nose in her own business, life in Tombstone would be a lot better."
Will gave a wave as Joe headed off toward their house at the end of town. He turned down the boardwalk and passed the several shops on his way to the Tombstone Public Library. He was still early, so there didn't seem to be much activity yet. He took off his hat and peered through the large windows. He was surprised he didn't see anybody inside, and pressed his nose to the glass a little harder.
"Are you looking for me?" a female voice said from behind him. He turned quickly and took in the smile of Mrs. Tate.
"Yes, ma'am, I actually was."
"I see you have the stacking rack with you. I can't believe you did it so quickly. Thank you," Rose said as she lifted her skirts and climbed the steps onto the boardwalk. "I'm sure you have no idea how much that's going to help us here in the library. This is all brand new for us, but Carol and I both anticipate that things might get a little hectic."
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