The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Operating? Out in the middle of nowhere? Ruth placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. For some reason, she felt a little dizzy.

  “And Wade?” Margaret asked.

  “He’s seein’ to things at the Lazy Q,” Jack replied. “He went back with some fresh men to drive the cattle home, and I imagine he’ll be along to get you soon as he’s done.”

  Margaret exhaled with relief. “Thank goodness. And what about you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, ma’am. Just worn out and hungry.”

  “Get yourself washed up and I’ll fix you a plate,” Ruth told him, needing something to keep herself busy.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll go use the pump outside.”

  He exited through the front door, and Ruth turned to Margaret. “Wade’s fine,” she said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “Now you can stop worrying.”

  “Yes, I can.” Margaret put a hand on her chest. “I wish I could calm my heartbeat, though. I know it’s going to come right out through my ribs.”

  “And that would give Dr. Wayment yet another problem to fix,” Ruth said with a smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs and see what’s needed, and I’ll get Jack a plate? I’ll also start some broth for Mr. Barker.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Margaret headed toward the stairs, and Ruth walked back toward the kitchen, her knees a little wobbly. Seeing Mr. Barker injured like that had certainly been a shock. She’d hoped against all else that no one would get hurt, but at least no one had been killed. That was a true blessing.

  When Jack came back in, his hair was damp, but his shirt and pants were clean and dry. He must have noticed Ruth’s curious glance. “Miss Harriet was outside by the pump just now, and she lent me some of Tom’s clothes,” he explained. “I didn’t realize I had some of Mr. Barker’s blood on me, and that would have been too bad, comin’ in to eat lookin’ like that.”

  “Harriet’s very thoughtful,” Ruth said, trying not to think too much about things like bloody clothes. She placed a dish of stew and a plate of fresh bread on the table, then went back to get some pie and coffee. Mr. Barker was barely more than an acquaintance—why was she so rattled by his injury?

  Margaret came into the kitchen and grabbed an apron from the linen closet. “I just heard the train whistle, and Dr. Wayment has asked for a tray to be brought up. Why don’t I put that together while you and the other girls are serving?”

  “Thank you. That’s a good idea.” Ruth turned to the cutting board and picked up the bread knife again, but her hands were trembling, and Margaret looked at her with concern.

  “Are you all right, Ruth?”

  “I’m fine. I suppose I’m just not used to the sight of blood or things like that.”

  Margaret nodded. “Or you’re not used to seeing people you know so ill.”

  “That too.”

  Margaret put her hand on Ruth’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take the tray up? That way, you can see for yourself that Alex is all right.”

  “Oh, I don’t need to see that. We hardly know each other.”

  Margaret gave her a firm look, and Ruth sighed. “All right, yes, I’ll go. What did the doctor ask for?”

  “Something hot and hearty. And definitely coffee.”

  “I have beef stew, and the broth is nearly warmed.”

  Ruth pulled down a tray and arranged the requested items on it, then added some pie for good measure. She’d never known Dr. Wayment to refuse pie.

  As she climbed the stairs, she met Mr. Brody coming down. “Hold on there,” he said. “Let me get that for you.”

  She gladly turned her burden over to him and followed him the rest of the way up. “Jack said there was a lot of blood,” she said before they reached Mr. Barker’s room. “Is he all right?”

  “Dr. Wayment thinks he’ll be fine. Of course, only time will tell for sure.” Mr. Brody nodded toward the door. “Can you get the knob?”

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Ruth stepped forward and twisted the handle, feeling silly for expecting Mr. Brody to do it himself with full hands.

  The room where Mr. Barker was staying was smaller than room two, the one they generally used for invalids, but it was still spacious enough for what was needed. Mr. Brody put the tray on the table, then excused himself, saying he had business downstairs. Suddenly uncomfortable, Ruth fussed over the tray, making sure everything was there—even though she knew it was—and finally looked up to see Mr. Barker watching her.

  “Oh! You’re awake,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m more thirsty than anything,” he replied, and she set about making his cup of coffee.

  “I, on the other hand, could eat everything on that tray and then some.” Dr. Wayment put his stethoscope back in his bag, then accepted the coffee Ruth held out to him. “You’re a godsend.”

  “So, what’s going on here?” Ruth asked, motioning toward Mr. Barker. “He’s awake—that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, a very good sign. He was shot through the thigh and lost quite a lot of blood. I was able to patch him up before we brought him in, and he was doing so well, we decided to go ahead and bring him all the way into town rather than leaving him at the Lazy Q.”

  “I’m glad of that,” Ruth replied. “The men out there would have meant well, but I’m not sure how they’d do at caring for an invalid.”

  “My thoughts exactly, and we could hardly ask Margaret to take on the full load,” Dr. Wayment said. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Brody, and he feels the waitresses here would be more than glad to lend a hand. You’ll all be compensated, of course.”

  “That wasn’t even a concern.” Ruth smiled at Mr. Barker. She didn’t want him to feel like an extra project, but she did have to admit, the extra money would be a nice addition to her savings. “What all does he need?”

  Mr. Barker held up a hand. “Please, call me Alex,” he said. “We’ll all be spending quite a lot of time together, and you’re currently seeing me in my nightclothes. There’s no need for formality.”

  Ruth’s cheeks flushed. “I hadn’t even noticed the nightclothes,” she said. “You’ve got the blankets arranged just right for that.”

  “Good! My plan worked.” Alex gave her a flicker of a smile.

  “I have Mr. Barker—er, Alex. I assume the invitation included me?” Dr. Wayment asked with a wry smile.

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  “Quite right.” Dr. Wayment turned back to Ruth. “I have Alex on a dose of opium for the pain. It’s a highly addictive substance, so it’s important that we’re all in communication so we know how much he’s taken. He’ll be bedridden for a few weeks, and he should eat as much nourishing food as possible, particularly red meat. He needs to build up his blood supply or he’ll be of no use to us whatsoever.”

  Ruth nodded. “I happen to be quite expert at nourishing food.”

  The doctor nodded. “I know you are—is Jesse McVey still bringing fresh game to the hotel?”

  “Yes, he is. In fact, we’re expecting more any day now.”

  “Excellent. Deer, elk, rabbit—all those would be very nutritious.”

  Ruth caught Alex’s shudder out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t you care for wild game?”

  “Not the way I’ve had it cooked in the past,” he said, seeming to choose his words carefully.

  “I think you’ll find that Ruth has a special touch with it,” Dr. Wayment said, a twinkle in his eye. “And if you’ll excuse me for just one moment, that stew has my name on it.”

  He took a seat and picked up his bowl. Ruth wondered how he managed to stay healthy—she knew he worked ridiculous hours with unpredictable sleep, and he didn’t eat regularly when he was on a case. She was glad she was able to help him in that small way.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry yet?” she asked Alex.

  He shook his head. “I’m all right, but thank you.”

  “He’ll be as hungry as a bear when the shock wears off his system,�
� Dr. Wayment said.

  “Oh, bear would be a good idea. I’ll ask Jesse if he can find us one,” Ruth suggested, watching Alex for his reaction and grinning when he shuddered again. “I’m just teasing. He’s never once brought us a bear, and I’m not sure I’d know how to cook it if he did.”

  “You really shouldn’t scare me like that,” Alex said with a chuckle. “Here I am, confined to this bed, practically your prisoner, thinking all sorts of horrible things about what you’re going to feed me . . . Haven’t I been through enough?”

  “My prisoner, hmm? That makes me feel almost powerful,” Ruth replied, grinning again. “I’ve never had a prisoner before.”

  “Well, you’ll have one for about a month,” Dr. Wayment said. He was halfway through his slice of pie already. “I want this man right down for three weeks, with an additional week to get his sea legs before we let him leave.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to share the title of jailer, then,” Ruth said. “I’m actually leaving in two weeks to take a job in Kansas City.”

  “The devil you say.” Dr. Wayment set his plate back on the tray with a clink. “Who’s going to make my dinner?”

  “You’ve met Kate, haven’t you, Doctor? She’s an excellent cook, and she’ll take over my duties very well.”

  “Not as well as you do them. First Sarah, now you . . .” He picked up a piece of bread and slathered butter on it, muttering to himself the whole time. “Expect me to starve . . .”

  Ruth tried to hide her smile. She knew full well the doctor didn’t go hungry when he was at home, and Kate would do an excellent job of preparing the simple meals they served at the Brody. No one was going to starve just because Ruth was leaving.

  “I’m sorry to hear that you’re going as well,” Alex said. “I know you’re respected here, and I can see why.”

  “Thank you,” she said, touched by this unexpected compliment.

  “I must say, though, that I’m glad you didn’t accept my brother’s job offer.” Alex tried to shift a little in the bed, but he winced and gave up. “My conversation with him about it . . . I’ve thought back on it several times, and all I can do is apologize to you again. I can’t explain why he behaved as he did.”

  “I don’t need you to apologize any more than you already have,” Ruth told him. “I’ve been told that you’re nothing like him, and you can’t keep taking responsibility for his actions. We’ll let him bear the brunt of that.” She didn’t know if it was in poor taste to ask, but she badly wanted to know, so she decided to chance it. “Is it true, what I’ve heard? Was he behind the cattle theft?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Alex replied. “He wasn’t with the cattle when we caught up to them—I have no idea where he is.”

  “It’s time for Alex’s next dose of opium,” Dr. Wayment interjected. “We need to stay on top of his schedule so the pain doesn’t become unbearable. I’ll show you the proper dose, Ruth, and you can show anyone else who takes a turn with him. Then it’s best if he gets some sleep.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset things by asking after Mr. Barker,” Ruth said. “I should have waited until after you rested.”

  “No harm done,” Alex replied. “That’s a question I think we’d all like answered.”

  Dr. Wayment showed Ruth how to measure out the correct amount of opium and how to administer it, then he bid her to put the bottle in her pocket for the time being. “It’s far too easy for a patient to get their hands on the medication and overdose themselves,” he said, echoing back to the warnings he’d given previously.

  “I understand.” Ruth heard stories of patients who had become dependent on their medication, and some who had even died because of it. She would be more than happy to safeguard the medication so that wouldn’t happen here.

  She gathered up the dirty dishes, but left the coffee pot and two cups behind, taking her load down to the kitchen. The meal service was in full swing as she passed through the dining room, and Mr. Runyon stood from his table and greeted her.

  “Hello, Miss Barnes. I was sorry to miss you earlier.”

  “I was sorry to miss you. It’s been a very busy day.”

  “And here I am, slowing you down with your arms full. Could we possibly take a walk this evening?”

  “I’ll need to get back with you, all right? We’ve had something come up.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

  She pushed through the door into the kitchen and unloaded her tray, hoping she hadn’t seemed unforgivably rude. That wasn’t her intent, but she really didn’t have any idea how the waitresses would divide up the care of their new patient, and she couldn’t make plans until it had all been worked out.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex had nearly wept with relief when the doctor and Mr. Brody had finally lowered him into his bed at the hotel. The pain of traveling on the travois had been overwhelming, but he’d known he had a chance for better care at the hotel, and so he insisted that he was fine and they should push on. By the time they arrived, his leg was on fire, and he was ready to lay hold of any sharp object and cut it off himself if it would end the pain. The opium dulled his senses and made his situation seem less real, but even it didn’t remove the pain entirely, and he begged God silently for deliverance.

  Being in bed, covered with clean sheets and wearing fresh clothing, did a great deal to help his overall sense of well-being. He was grateful to Mr. Brody for helping the doctor get him situated. Now it was a matter of staying on top of the pain and the waves of nausea that accompanied it. He didn’t begrudge the doctor his meal in the slightest, but the smell of it had nearly done him in, and he was more than glad when Ruth had carried the tray from the room.

  He smiled when he thought of her. He’d hoped she would be the one to bring up the tray, but he knew she was busy, and there were several other girls who could be assigned that task. Seeing her when she came in was like a balm to his soul, even if she did seem too shy to make eye contact with him at first. By the time she left, he felt that enough seeds of friendship had been planted that perhaps they might have a real chance at some sort of relationship.

  He'd swallowed the bitter taste of the opium without complaint, even though it made his stomach roil, and now he lay quietly, waiting for the pain to abate. Dr. Wayment sat at the small desk in the corner, scribbling something on a sheet of paper, obviously planning to keep an eye on him for a while at least. That was comforting.

  “Do you think Ruth will come back and see me soon?” Alex asked, waving a hand at the door.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Dr. Wayment commented without looking up from his papers.

  “I will. I just can’t stop thinking about Ruth. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I believe I already shared my opinion on that.” Dr. Wayment turned in his chair and regarded him. “You realize she’ll still be here when you wake up.”

  “Yes, she will. She lives here.” Alex closed his eyes, but they popped back open, even though he was drowsy. “She’s leaving, though. She won’t be here forever.”

  “Young ladies have been known to change their minds about things. Now, are you going to go to sleep, or do I need to add a drop of laudanum to what you’re already taking?”

  “I’ll go to sleep.” Alex took a deep breath and allowed himself to succumb to the foggy darkness that threatened to envelop him. It was nice there—he didn’t have to think or feel.

  ***

  “Wade!”

  Margaret set down the tray she was carrying and almost flew across the kitchen into her husband’s arms. He’d entered through the back door, and he held her tightly. Ruth took a cup from the shelf, filled it with coffee, and handed it to him as soon as he let go of his wife.

  “Thank you,” he said, then took a long series of gulps. “How’s Alex?”

  “Upstairs resting,” Ruth replied. “Dr. Wayment says he needs to rebuild his blood supply, and it will be around a month befor
e he can leave.”

  Wade nodded. “Better than I expected. I thought you’d be telling me he died on the way here.”

  “Wade, what happened?” Margaret implored.

  Wade sat down at the table and exhaled long and hard. Margaret sat next to him, clutching his hand. He explained how they’d gone about locating the stolen cattle and how they’d caught up to their men just in time to go in for the arrest, and how Alex had been shot. Then he told how the men had split up into different details, and the thieves had been escorted to the jail while the cattle had been driven back to the Lazy Q.

  “Who all was involved?” Margaret asked.

  “Smith and Kale from the Q—I already knew Barker was taking them with him. He wanted a few men who already knew his way of doing things. Which is a laugh, actually, because Barker never did know from one minute to the next what he thought about anything when it came to the ranch. He had to have someone tell him what to do almost every minute.” Wade shook his head and drained his cup. Ruth refilled it as soon as he set it down.

  “Along with Smith and Kale were a bunch of other men I’ve never seen before. They must have come in from the outside to give a hand. They met us there on the knoll where Alex got shot, but two of them had come all the way down to the Q to start the cattle moving north.”

  “North. In the direction of Barker’s new land,” Margaret said, shaking her head. “How did he expect to get away with it? Did he think that because you were away at a wedding, you’d somehow miss the fact that a hundred head of cattle had wandered off?”

  Ruth was furious. Wade had worked long and hard to get where he was, and now he owned his own property. Those cattle were rightfully his as part of the sale. Barker would have multitudes of cattle of his own waiting for him at his new place, but no—he couldn’t leave without helping himself. She set the coffee pot back on the stove and started mixing up the next batch of bread dough, needing something to pound.

  “Colonel Gordon has sent a man off to inquire into Jeb’s whereabouts, and he says he’s not above asking the Pinkertons for their help if this doesn’t pan out right off,” Wade said. “It’s good of him to do that—I want this thing all knitted up once and for all so we can get on with livin’. I’m just grateful as a man can be that Alex wasn’t killed. This wasn’t even his fight—I consider it to be between his brother and me. He was an innocent bystander, as far as I’m concerned.”