One True Love

by Lori Copeland

  She nodded. “If there were whiskey available I’d let you have it. Honest. I’m strong. I can take anything.” She flashed a smile, wishing she really felt as strong as she was trying to sound. “I can endure the surgery if you can make me walk again.”

  “My good lady. I am not your Maker.”

  “No…of course not. I just wanted you to know you don’t have to worry about me screaming or anything. I won’t. I’m strong.”

  “Mmm. Yes, well, let’s get started.”

  He inclined his head to Adele. The last thing Copper remembered was Dyson’s grim invocation. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

  Chapter 19

  Josh Redlin’s face, then Adele’s studious expression. Then Josh again. Faces drifted in and out of Copper’s wavering sight.

  “Come on, honey. Wake up.”

  She didn’t want to wake up; she preferred to stay in the blissful black void. Still, Sadie’s anxious whispers penetrated her desire to remain in the nothingness.

  “The Almighty was merciful. The poor thing couldn’t have made it through the surgery without his intervening.”

  “Aye,” Adele murmured. “With only that little bit of medicine, the fainting was the best thing that could’ve happened to her.”

  Faint? Had she fainted? When she’d vowed to be so wholly courageous?

  Sadie and Adele spoke in unison.

  “How is she, Doctor?”

  “Were you able to help her?”

  Then Josh’s tense voice. “Copper? Can you hear me?”

  Dr. Dyson’s voice penetrated the fog. “Folks, I’d like a word alone with Miss Wilson.”

  The two women clucked and cooed to the patient but obediently drifted away. She felt Josh’s presence remain. “Mr. Redlin?”

  Head clearing, Copper gritted her teeth against the white-hot pain that was radiating up her leg from her ankle. “He can stay.” She reached for his hand.

  “Miss Wilson, you might want to hear what I have to say in private.”

  “No.” Copper swallowed against a dry throat. “He can hear anything you have to tell me.”

  The doctor washed his hands in the water basin. “If that’s what you want.”

  Josh moved closer, his eyes pools of concern.

  Dropping into the rocker, the doctor rubbed his temples. “I fear I could do little to help.”

  Copper thought the words would bring even more agony, but oddly enough, the diagnosis brought peace. She had done all that was possible to avert this moment, and God’s answer was “No.” Josh squeezed her hand.

  “I may have helped somewhat,” Dyson corrected. “The way the ankle was you would have been consigned to a crutch for the rest of your life. Now, with God’s grace, when the incision heals the ankle will be as strong as it is ever going to get. But I can’t predict how good that will be.”

  Copper noticed that the doctor now spoke of God’s mercy. Perhaps he would heal too. “I may not have to use a crutch?”

  “We won’t know for a few weeks, but I believe I was able to set the bone so that only a slight limp, if anything, will hinder you.” He rested his head on the back of the rocker, staring at the roof of the wagon. “I wish I could have done more, but you’re fortunate the bone didn’t break the skin. You would have lost the foot.”

  Josh’s hand tightened in hers when she spoke. “Thank you, Doctor. The assessment is far better than I had feared.”

  She might have a limp for the rest of her life…but there was still a touch of hope. Copper closed her eyes.

  “I’ll get you a cup of coffee, Doctor.” Josh left the wagon and the doctor remained in the rocker, eyes closed. His gray features were drained. Copper reached over and took his hand and held it.

  Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.

  “Can you talk about it yet?” she asked softly. For the man bore an unspeakable weight. Perhaps if he spoke of his great loss he would be able to go on and eventually find his purpose again. And she welcomed the opportunity to think about something other than her pain.

  He was silent for so long she thought he’d rejected her invitation. She tightened her hold on his hand, a surgeon’s hand. She wanted to wipe away the tears that coursed down his weathered features. She tried willing him to speak, shutting out her hurt. His face contorted, and he said, “Did Redlin tell you where he found me?”

  “In your office?”

  His mirthless laugh stunned her. “In the root cellar. He was good enough to cover for me that day.”

  “Root cellar?”

  “Drunk. While my wife and child were being slaughtered, I laid in the root cellar drunk, swigging gin.” The enormity of his admission stunned her. He was opening his soul to her. A part of her didn’t want to hear any more, but the words came out, one upon one, hopeless admissions.

  “Word was the Kiowa were on the prowl and everyone was uneasy, perhaps even frightened. Mary, my youngest daughter, had been poorly for several days. Then the day before the raid she died. She was only two years old. She had the same big brown eyes and dark brown hair of her mother. I don’t know what happened. Within two days she went from being tired and having a low fever to death. I should have been able to do something. I should have saved her. I’m a doctor and I couldn’t keep my own daughter from dying.

  “It hit me hard. My wife never said it was my fault, but I could see in her eyes that she felt that I could have done something, something beyond my ability.” He opened his eyes and met hers. “Mary died about dawn and we buried her that afternoon. I sought release the only way I knew how: in the bottle. After the funeral I grabbed all the whiskey I could carry and headed for the root cellar. I couldn’t face my wife and I couldn’t bear to look at Sally, my other daughter. By dusk I was in a stupor.

  “The Kiowa hit us the next day, but I was totally unaware of it until it was over. Miss Wilson, I’m not proud of my actions, but sometimes a man copes the best he knows how, and gin was the only way I could face life that day. That’s where your Redlin found me. During the battle I was drunk, oblivious to what was going on above me. That’s the only reason my life was spared. Those redskins didn’t think to look for a drunken doctor lying in the darkest corner of the root cellar.” His features crumpled and he broke, his shoulders heaving with such grief, Copper feared he might never regain composure. She was so taken aback by the horror, she couldn’t find words. For the remainder of his life, this was the knowledge this man would carry.

  Heaving with emotion, his voice came through sobs. “I don’t want to live anymore. I’ve had a drinking problem for many years. Ginny hated it. When she could, she’d steal my bottles and pour them onto the ground, but I’d just get another from one of the men.” He shook his head. “Why did you bring me back? Is this my punishment, to live with this nightmare the rest of my days? I lost the woman I love and two precious daughters because of the bottle. I should have been up here fighting for my family, for my company. Instead I was drowning my weaknesses in a bottle of whiskey.”

  By now Josh stood in the doorway holding a cup of steaming coffee. He’d heard most of the confession. What must a man with Redlin’s grit think of such an act?

  Coward. The offensive tag didn’t fit Dale Dyson. A coward didn’t drag himself from self-pity and remorse to make an effort to possibly save a young woman from becoming a cripple when all he wanted to do was die. Yet Copper well understood the man’s agony. He had succumbed to human frailty while his family fought for their lives. How could he ever forgive himself?

  Josh moved to put the cup of coffee in Dyson’s hand. The doctor stared at the contents, obviously reliving that tragic day.

  “I didn’t hear a thing. Not one gunshot. That night I staggered out of the cellar intent on cleaning up and going home to a hot supper, and then I saw—” He broke off. “I found my wife and daughter and buried them next to Mary. Then I returned to the cellar, and I don’t remember anything until you found me, Redlin. No, that’s not true. At one point I tried to t
ake my life; I recall making a noose. I looked for a gun, but all I found was a piece of rope. It was so old and my fingers were so stiff that I couldn’t get it tied so that it would hold my weight. I couldn’t even take my life. I’m not a man; I’m a disgrace.”

  During his confession, Josh remained silent. Now he said quietly, “A man isn’t measured by his acts; he’s measured by the Creator.”

  “What kind of Creator would allow a man to do what I did?”

  “God’s ways are sometimes mysterious. You are certainly not the first man to fail in a crisis. The apostle Peter comes to mind.”

  Dyson stared at his coffee. “You don’t know, Redlin. You can’t know what it’s like to lose everything you love and know that you might have been able to prevent their deaths.”

  “A lot of lives were lost in that attack. If you had been seen, you would have suffered the same fate.”

  Dyson’s features crumpled. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I wish it had happened that way? My prayer is that God will take me today, rather than let me stay in this…this…hell that I’m in now.”

  Redlin met the doctor’s eyes. “Every man has a purpose. Who knows your purpose, but it wasn’t your time the day of the attack.”

  “If nothing more, you were spared to prevent me from using a crutch the rest of my life,” Copper reasoned.

  “Words. Nothing but words.” Dyson spat them rather than said them. He set the cup beside the rocker. “I’ll never take another breath that I don’t remember what I’ve done to my wife and children. I have no right to be here, no right at all, and I curse the day you people brought me back to face my disgrace.”

  He stood up, swaying with fatigue. “Stay off the foot completely, Miss Wilson.”

  “How long?”

  “Six weeks at least. Then have a doctor check the results. He may want you off the ankle longer. Do what he says.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  He dismissed her gratitude with a shake of his head. “There’s still a chance of infection from the surgery, but the wound is clean. I wish I’d had whiskey for more than one reason, but you shouldn’t have any trouble.” He turned and left the wagon.

  Josh bent to kiss Copper. Their eyes met and he smiled. “Get some sleep. We have had better news than we feared.”

  “Thank you for staying with me.” She gently reached to touch the tip of his nose. “You give me comfort.”

  The expression in his eyes told her they both gave each other something; something both needed. She was becoming important to him. That was the greatest gift of this day.

  Their gazes held, she drinking in his strength. “My heart goes out to Dr. Dyson. Can you imagine carrying such a burden?”

  “I know that man is often tested far beyond what he believes that he can stand. But he goes on.” His eyes turned distant, as though he was recalling his trials. “Somehow, he goes on. Dyson will make it, but his life will never be the same.” He straightened. “I’ll be back shortly. I want to speak to Dyson alone.” A man-to-man thing. Copper hoped that in some measure, Josh would be able to help the doctor.

  Later Adele and Sadie sat with her for a while, and then the doctor returned to sleep in the rocker by her side.

  Copper heard the camp settling for the night. A light wind ruffled the canvas. She knew the doctor, though weary, couldn’t rest. His heart was with the occupants of three shallow graves that lay within the fort, and the many others surrounding them.

  “You can’t blame yourself.” She spoke into the darkness, not even sure that he heard her. “We’re all imperfect beings.”

  How many times had she recklessly done things for which, but for the mercy of God, she would have paid a tremendous penalty? The doctor’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Do you ever wonder why God does what he does?”

  She smiled into the darkness. “Every day.”

  “Nothing makes sense, you know.”

  “Is it supposed to?”

  He didn’t answer, and she let him come to his conclusions. She wasn’t a theologian. She could barely remember the Scripture she’d learned over the years, but its meaning was etched in her heart, and the way she had it figured, a body had two choices: believe in a higher source, or not believe in anything.

  Two choices. Even odds on getting the meaning of life right. She saw a higher source when she looked at the stars as numerous as Abraham’s descendants. She understood that new life was resurrected every spring in the trees, bushes, and grass. She chose trust and belief.

  She could be wrong.

  Then again, she could be right.

  Perfect peace or imperfect turmoil. The choice was a stark one, with no ground in between. She prayed the good doctor would reach the same conclusion, for without personal peace life didn’t make a lick of sense.

  By seven forty-five the following morning the wagons were hitched and ready to roll. Saying good-bye to Adele and Sadie was harder than Copper had imagined.

  Adele bent and hugged Copper, who had been transferred to a pallet next to the fire. Josh, the doctor, and Copper would remain another day, and then Josh would return Copper to Thunder Ridge before he rejoined the train somewhere on down the trail.

  “This don’t mean we can’t write.” The older woman sniffed. “I expect to hear from you once a month, and you say hello to Willow and Audrey. I want to hear from them too.”

  Sadie squeezed between the fire and Adele. “Same goes for me.”

  “I promise.” Copper bit back tears, determined to keep this parting on a happy note. They’d come a long way together, sacrificed much, and tolerated even more. This should be a time of celebration, though the wagon train would face many more hardships before they reached Colorado Springs. Copper only had five, possibly six days’ ride, and she would be home. Home! Thunder Ridge or Beeder’s Cove? It really didn’t matter as long as it was close to Audrey and Willow.

  If she was lucky, Beeder’s Cove school board would hold the teaching position until next fall. Whoever had filled in during her absence would maybe be moved to Blackberry Hill. By then her injury should be completely healed.

  Redlin called from the distance. “It’s time, ladies.” In the background, Richardson’s “Wagons roll!” filtered down the line of waiting rigs.

  One last hug, and Sadie and Adele said good-bye. Copper knew most likely she’d never see the two wonderful souls again this side of heaven. Colorado Springs was a long way from Beeder’s Cove.

  The last wagon rumbled off and faded into the distance. Copper listened to the men’s whistles controlling the stock, the protesting of the cows, and the squeak of wagon wheels. She realized she was blinking back tears.

  Josh knelt beside her pallet. “Hey, no tears allowed. Colorado isn’t that far off.”

  “It might as well be eternity.”

  He reached out and tugged her right cheek. “Not by rail. The railroads are building all through these parts. It won’t be long before you can board a rail car and travel to Colorado in no time at all.”

  The thought was a lovely one, but Copper couldn’t imagine the luxury. Forgo dust, Indians, and rough roads and sit in a railroad car and be whisked to your destination in a matter of days? Only the very rich could afford the privilege.

  That evening the campfire burned low. Three of the best horses grazed nearby. The setting was surreal; her and two men. Beyond the light, Fort Riceson’s ghostly presence loomed like a bad nightmare.

  Josh had kept busy most of the day preparing for the ride back to Thunder Ridge. Over a cold supper, he approached the subject Copper had been afraid to voice: What were Dyson’s plans? They couldn’t just ride off and leave him here, yet he hadn’t mentioned a word about joining them.

  Redlin tossed coffee remains in the fire. “What about you, Doctor?”

  The man glanced up. “What about me?”

  “What’s your plan? You can’t stay here.”

  Dyson turned back to stare at the fire. “I haven’t any plan
s.”

  “You can’t sit here,” Josh said. “Come with us.”

  “To Thunder Ridge?”

  “It’s a nice town.” He glanced at Copper and winked. “A man could lay down roots there.”

  Dyson shook his head. “My roots are lying in that fort.”

  “In time, you’ll plant new ones.” Josh’s tone gentled. “I’m not suggesting it will be easy, but there’s nothing here any longer. Ride back with us, at least until you get on your feet again.”

  “I’m still a member of the cavalry. I have to report somewhere.”

  “I understand. Do your superiors know that you survived the attack?”

  The doctor shook his head. “I’ve spoken to no one.”

  Copper doubted news of the attack had reached the government yet. Information was slow to come in these parts.

  “Please.” Copper added her invitation. “Come with us. Once you’re in Thunder Ridge you can notify your superiors and resume your duties. We can’t ride off and leave you here.”

  To leave the doctor sitting and grieving alone at the graves of his family was unthinkable.

  Dyson stared sightlessly into the fire. Copper didn’t know if a word they said reached him, but they couldn’t desert him. If they must, Josh would have to truss him up like a Christmas goose and tie him to the horse.

  “You’re coming with us,” she announced.

  The doctor neither accepted nor rejected her statement.

  By sunup, Josh lifted Copper onto the saddle and elevated her foot in a makeshift sling alongside the horse’s neck. The supply of laudanum was very low, so this journey was not likely to be a pleasant one. The long-anticipated trip home was not one she was looking forward to.

  Her eyes scanned the area. Dale Dyson was nowhere in sight. “Is he coming?”

  Josh tightened a cinch. “I haven’t seen him this morning. He was gone when I woke up.”

  She located the third horse still grazing nearby. “Is he in the fort?”

  “Don’t know.” He moved to check his saddlebags. “A man has a right to privacy, Copper. We invited him to come; it’s up to him whether he accepts help or not. The doctor’s carrying a heavy weight; you have to understand that.”