Grooms with Honor Series, Books 10-12

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “All right. I’ll pick you up and lower you into the tub. Grab the sides of the tub if you can to hold yourself steady.”

  Mary gritted her teeth as Kiowa picked her up off the floor. Her back hurt like the dickens but Kiowa was being as careful as he could be.

  “Ah! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”

  “Mary! Don’t startle me like that! I almost dropped you!”

  “I just had a terrible shooting pain down my left leg!”

  Kiowa hung half in and half out of the tub, still having his arms wrapped around her back and legs. Good thing Kiowa had taken his shirt off because otherwise it would be soaking wet.

  “Okay, go ahead and let go of me.”

  Kiowa slowly pulled his right arm away from under her knees and let her settle on the bottom of the bathtub. Then he eased his other arm from her shoulders and let her ease back in the water.

  “How does that feel?”

  “Like a warm heaven. I might stay here until I heal if you can keep adding hot water to the tub.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Kiowa said with a sigh. “Actually, I’m just glad to hear you talk at all. When I saw you sprawled unconscious at the bottom of the stairs…I swear my heart stopped.”

  Mary reached for Kiowa’s hand and threaded her fingers through his. “This accident may be the push we needed to become a family in public.”

  Kiowa met her eyes, then blew out a slow breath. “You know why we kept our marriage a secret. I’m not the kind of man you should have as a husband and father to your children.”

  “You are a kind, decent man, and I’m ready to thumb my nose to whoever thinks otherwise. And, the children need an example of us not being embarrassed of our marriage too.”

  Kiowa dipped a washcloth in the water, rubbed a bar of rose-scented soap on the cloth and gently washed her shoulders. Her body relaxed at his touch, making her feel better by the second.

  “People may think I’m living on your dress shop income rather than the blacksmith’s. You know I don’t have the large workload I should have because I’m a half-breed. Lots of people take their buggies and implements elsewhere to be repaired.”

  “Which works out since you need your time for your real profession,” Mary pointed out as she stretched her neck upward as Kiowa washed her neck and chest.

  “I’m not sure if I want the good residents of Clear Creek to know what I do in the back of the smithy. It would be too tempting for some fool to think he could break in and steal my work.”

  “One option then is to move to New York to be near your business,” Mary challenged Kiowa.

  He stared at her a long moment, apparently thinking of her suggestion.

  “I’m still a half-breed to people wherever we live,” Kiowa said as he shook his head. But we’re near your family here, and I need the open spaces of my Native ancestry.”

  “Then as Burdette and I heal, let’s make plans for our future. Will you move into the apartment with us? You can keep your home a secret workplace.”

  Kiowa didn’t answer her right away. What was mulling through his mind?

  Chapter 5

  Kiowa loved he could finally take care of his wife. Seeing her lifeless body, and Burdie’s broken leg had snapped Kiowa from his delusion that he couldn’t be a husband and father to them.

  He’s taken vows to love and protect them and it was time he publicly proved it. Yes, there would be fallout and criticism, but they could stand together and weather the gossip and scorn.

  “I’m going to lean you forward to wash your back now,” Kiowa said as he kept an arm around her chest. He swallowed hard when he saw the bruise in the middle of her back. It was a horizontal bruise across her lower spine where she landed hard on the edge of a step. It was a wonder she didn’t break her back. Maybe her whalebone corset that he disliked saved her life after all.

  “How big is the bruise on my back?

  “I’ll trace it,” and he did so. “Could you feel that?”

  “I think so, but you didn’t make a whole circle did you? It felt as if you made the letter ‘c’ on my back.”

  Mary didn’t feel his finger as he moved across the lower right of the bruise?

  “Uh, I was touching pretty lightly so I didn’t hurt you.”

  Please let the feeling return to her back and leg!

  “Can you wash my hair too? I feel clumps of something on the back of my head.”

  Her usual pinned updo was a lopsided mess with half the hair pins gone.

  “Oh. And what happened to my hat? Did I ruin it?”

  The woman seriously hurt her back and she was worried about a silly hat?

  “I have no clue as I wasn’t worried one iota about it,” Kiowa grumbled as he plucked the remaining pins from her hair.

  “Kiowa…”

  “Well, sorry, but I wasn’t worried about the hat. I’ll buy you a new one then.”

  “But it matched my outfit,” she whined but had a smile on her face when she said that.

  Thank God for being able to talk about the hat at this moment, instead of thinking about burying his wife, who he hadn’t acknowledged in public.

  “Besides mud, you’re feeling a little dried blood from where you hit your head on a step. Your scalp wasn’t cut enough that you needed stitches, but it still bled like a head wound will do. I’ll clean the rest of you first, then we’ll wash your hair.”

  Kiowa slowly ran the washcloth over her arms, then stopped to stare at Mary.

  “What is it, Kiowa?”

  “What if your back doesn’t heal and it affects your walking? Those steep stairs might be hard for you to climb every day.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days,” Mary brushed off his worry.

  Mary sighed, and Kiowa changed positions to lean over the tub to wash her legs. She lifted her left leg, so he could wipe the washcloth underneath her leg, but she didn’t move her right leg at all.

  Mary had laid back in the tub and wasn’t watching him.

  Kiowa released the washcloth to float in the water above his hand. He poked, prodded, and pinched her leg, starting at the knee and worked down to her foot.

  Watching Mary’s face, she didn’t feel his touch at all on her right leg.

  “Mary…”

  “What?” Mary looked down into the bath water, where Kiowa’s hand sat on her right knee.

  “I’ve been pinching your right leg and you aren’t reacting to the sensation.”

  Mary’s breath hitched as she reached under the water and dug a fingernail deep into her right knee, then on the inside and outside of it.

  Mary looked puzzled. Did she not feel her own pressure on her leg either? Mary did the same sequence with her left knee and her leg twitched with every stab.

  “Kiowa? What is wrong with me? What am I going to do?” Mary sobbed as she realized the dire situation.

  Mary may never walk again!

  “Listen to me, Mary. The accident just happened a few hours ago and you have to allow time for your body to heal,” Kiowa tried to comfort her, but there was a trembling shake in his voice as he tried to reassure her.

  In sickness and in heath shot through his brain. He never thought when they married this type of scenario would happen to them. Kiowa was responsible for Mary, and her children, no matter what.

  What do I do? How do I comfort her now? And how do I take care of Mary, maybe as an invalid, for the rest of her life?

  “Yes…you’re right. It just happened…and it will take time to heal,” Mary wiped her wet hands down her tear-streaked cheeks and took a deep breath to calm herself.

  Kiowa willed himself to think positive too.

  “Let me wash your hair and then I’ll move you to the bed.”

  They kept silent in their thoughts as Kiowa washed Mary’s hair, drained the tub, dried her body and blotted the water from her hair as best as he could while she still sat in the tub.

  “Hang onto the sides of the tub while I turn back the bedding.”

&
nbsp; Kiowa watched Mary a few seconds before rushing to the bedroom to fling back the quilt and sheets. Doctor Pansy wasn’t back with any of Mary’s clothing yet. Kiowa opened the third drawer on his chest of drawers and pulled out one of his oldest, but softest shirts for her to wear in the meantime.

  Mary was still clutching the rim of the tub when he returned to the bathroom.

  “Here’s a shirt of mine to wear until you have one of your own nightgowns. She carefully lifted her left arm for him to slide the sleeve over one side of her body, and then her other arm.

  “Did you lay some old towels down on the bed…in case…I have an accident?”

  “No, but I will. Give me another second.” Kiowa only had four towels and he’d already used two on Mary’s body and hair. He pulled the extras from the wall hooks in the bathroom and scurried back to the bedroom to cover the bedding as she requested.

  “Okay, let’s move you now. Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on as I lift and carry you to the bed.”

  Mary’s weight didn’t bother him, but her squeezing the air out of his throat did.

  “Lighten up. I got you, but I have to breathe,” Kiowa wheezed until she relaxed in his arms.

  “Thanks,” he said to her as he lowered her onto his bed. “How’s that feel? Do you need any more pillows under your head? Or under your knees or feet?”

  “Right now, I just want to relax and settle into the mattress,” Mary muttered as she closed her eyes.

  Kiowa watched her face, and body, for signs of distress. She moved her left leg a bit, but not her right.

  He prayed again for strength to return to Mary’s body, and for his to help her through this crisis. This was not a good way to finally start their marriage.

  “Do you need any laudanum for the pain? It might help you relax and get some sleep.”

  Mary hesitated, but then gave in. “Just two drops for now, to cut the edge off the pain.”

  Kiowa carefully drew a tiny bit of the liquid from the bottle with a dropper. “Open your mouth.”

  He carefully squeezed the dropper until one drop, then another fell onto her tongue, pulling away in case he dropped any extra liquid from the dropper. Too much laudanum could put a person into a deep sleep or poison them.

  “Relax and don’t worry about anything right now. I’ll be right here,” Kiowa said as he pulled a chair up to the bed’s side, planning to watch over her until she fell asleep.

  “Please hold me, Kiowa,” Mary whispered, “at least until I fall asleep.”

  Kiowa crawled into bed on the opposite side of Mary, rolled onto his side and carefully laid his right arm around the top of her pillow while barely touching the top of her head. He laid his left hand on the top of her waist and she weaved her fingers into his and pulled their tightly clasped hands to the top of her chest.

  “Sleep now, Mary. I’m right beside you.”

  “I know…we’re finally together,” Mary barely spoke as the medicine drugged her system.

  Yes, they were together, but the challenges because of their marriage were just about to start.

  Chapter 6

  “Mary, I wish you’d consider moving over to our house. We can move a bed into the dining room a few days if you don’t feel like walking upstairs yet.”

  “No, Darcie. Thank you, but I want to stay with Kiowa,” Mary declined her adopted mother’s suggestion, for more than one reason.

  Besides the fact she was loving finally living with her husband, the Shepard house was small. Mary didn’t want to take over their dining space, which was a small room between their kitchen and living room.

  Burdette was light enough for Mary’s father and brothers to easily carry her upstairs to share Amelia’s bedroom, but Mary’s back and leg problem meant she needed to stay on the first floor.

  Another thing Mary didn’t mention to Darcie was that Mary could now enjoy how she’d decorated Kiowa’s home. It had been Kiowa and her personal secret space, a love nest of sorts, and she’d lavishly furnished it, similar to the home where she’d grown up, in Rochester, New York.

  Not that she minded living in the simple, small, two-story wood frame home of the Shepards. It had been a haven for Mary and Gabe when their mother, Mattie Ringwald, abandoned them in Kansas.

  Reuben Shepard, Mary’s brother Gabe’s father, had served in the Civil War, and when arriving home in 1865 to his wife, Mattie, he found out she had declared him dead and had married Mary’s father, Reginald Ringwald. Reuben left devastated at the time, leaving his wife and son, eventually wandering to Kansas to settle. Reuben went back to Rochester twelve years later to see Gabe again, just days after Reginald had died.

  Mattie, in her anger and grief over her second husband’s death, sent Gabe away with Reuben. But a few months later, Mattie, with Mary in tow, visited Kansas, hoping to lure Reuben and Gabe back to New York on the pretense that she and Reuben were still married. It proved not to be true, and his mother left Mary with Gabe in Kansas. Mattie thought she’d have a better chance to find a new rich husband if she didn’t have children with her.

  Mary hated to admit it, but she’d loved the brick home she grew up in in Rochester. And it wasn’t just the expensive furniture she enjoyed but also the manicured lawn surrounded by a thick canopy of deciduous and evergreen trees. She couldn’t duplicate the dense stand of trees of her New York home, but she could decorate the interior in a similar fashion.

  “Mary?”

  “I’m sorry, I was daydreaming. What did you say?”

  “Burdette and Nolie would like to see you move in with us too,” Darcie added to guilt Mary into moving with them.

  Mary worried about her children, but she wasn’t able to take care of them yet. Plus, at twelve and ten, they were old enough not to be with her all the time. Even though Mary was confined to bed for a short while, this was her and Kiowa’s belated honeymoon. Did she dare explain that to her adopted mother?

  “I’m sure in a short while we’ll be back in our apartment. But this is my chance to be with my husband…”

  Mary bit her lip, embarrassed at what she was suggesting, but Darcie would concede.

  Darcie looked away for a moment, then back at Mary. “Yes, it is giving you time together, but people are asking about you, wanting to come inside our house to visit as you convalesce. I’ve held them off, but I’ll soon need to tell them what’s going on and where you are. I hate to deceive our family and friends.”

  “You haven’t told Grandpa and Grandma Donovan have you? I’m not sure if they’ll understand us keeping our marriage secret,” Mary asked, worried about their reaction that she’d married the blacksmith, and worse, kept it from everyone.

  The Donovan’s, Darcie’s father and step-mother, Ennis and Flora, had instantly considered Mary and Gabe their grandchildren, the same as their true grandchildren, Tate and Amelia. Mary had spent many Saturdays with Grandma Flora as she settled into her new life in Clear Creek. As they baked together for the Donovan’s boarders’ meals, Flora listened to Mary’s sadness about the loss of her father and home, giving her comfort along with teaching Mary basic cooking skills she’d never learned from her mother’s cook.

  “Mary, they were in the doctor’s waiting room right after your accident happened. Of course, they know you moved into Kiowa’s home and Burdette is with us,” Darcie huffed in frustration.

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted time alone with my husband,” Mary said as she leaned back against the pillows again. She tried to sit up to strengthen her back a little time each hour, but she couldn’t do it for too long before the pain worsened.

  “I understand why, but you’ve got to let them visit you and Kiowa. Flora’s been wanting to bring a meal over.”

  “And being a retired policeman, Grandpa Ennis wants to uncover the facts,” Mary said with resignation. “I’ll talk to Kiowa and he’ll go over to talk to them.”

  “Thank you. Now about your dress shop. Two of your customers approached me because they’re waiting on th
e new dresses you were making for them. Do you want me to bring your sewing projects here to work on while you recover?”

  Sewing? She had no urge to work right now. And she couldn’t run the treadle on her sewing machine without the use of her legs either.

  “No, they’ll have to wait at least until next week. Maybe then I can sit up long enough to stitch seams on my machine.”

  “Mary, you’re not up moving around yet. How bad is your back?” Mary had hoped Darcie wouldn’t ask because she’d been denying it herself.

  Mary tried to hold back the tears, but it choked her throat as she tried to speak.

  “I…I don’t have any feeling or movement in my right leg yet.”

  “What? We thought you were just resting from the hit on your head, and some bruises,” Darcie gasped.

  Her mother looked like she wanted to pull down the bedsheets and feel Mary’s leg to prove her wrong.

  “No movement at all? Why? I don’t understand,” Darcie said as tears blurred her eyes.

  “I fell backward and came down on a step right above my waist, causing bruising and swelling along my spine. Doctor Pansy thinks my leg will work as my back heals, but she’s not sure because it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Darcie, who had been sitting relaxed in a chair beside Mary’s bed, leaned forward to capture Mary’s hands, squeezing them as anxiety hit.

  “Why hadn’t you told us this already?”

  “Because I thought my leg would be better after the first night, and then the next day…”

  Four days had passed since her fall, and she still didn’t have any movement in her right leg, no matter how many times she willed her muscles to move it.

  “And Kiowa has done everything for you?” Darcie asked, searching Mary’s eyes with her mother’s worry.

  “He’s been so wonderful, Darcie. I married a good man.”

  “But you didn’t think you could be public about your marriage. That’s not fair to either you or your children. Why did Kiowa demand it stay a secret?”

  “He didn’t, Darcie. But with his background, we mutually decided it was best at the time.”