A Love to Heal a Broken Heart: An Inspirational Historical Western Romance Book

by Lilah Rivers

  Martin offered her a little smile. “That’s how anything is injected, Amy, yes.”

  “No, I don’t think so, no. Sorry, doc.”

  Martin looked down at her with a new seriousness. “Why, Amy, do you mean to say that little redheaded spitfire I watched growing up, that plucky little champion… is afraid of needles?”

  “Not afraid, no, but… reasonably cautious.”

  “You’re in the best of hands,” he assured her.

  “It’s not the hands that worry me, Dr. Hoffman! Those things are just a passing phase, like leaches. Say, shall we try leaches?”

  “They are the future of medical treatment, I assure you.”

  “And I assure you, I—”

  “Amy,” Martin admonished, with a newly serious tone in his fatherly voice, “listen to me. You’ll need those nutrients, immediately and progressively as you carry your child to term… or that may not happen.”

  Amy’s skin felt suddenly clammy. She knew there was no stopping short of everything she could do save her child, even at the expense of her own life. She didn’t expect the needles to kill her outright, of course, unless she died of fright.

  “Doctor,” Amy finally felt she had to ask, “What are my chances, assuming the child survives?”

  A long, somber silence passed before Martin sighed and looked her over. “I’ve seen stronger candidates for carrying to term, I won’t lie. The rate of success is nowhere near complete, I’m sorry to say, even under the best of circumstances and the most expert care.”

  “I don’t doubt your abilities, Doctor.”

  He offered her a modest smile. “And I’m grateful. All that being said, most pregnancies don’t present so many challenges so early on. You say there’s a family history of difficulties?”

  Amy had to nod, knowing there was no good in lying to her doctor about such a vital fact. Lives were in the balance, it seemed—her own and that of her unborn child.

  “Still,” Martin went on, “you have reason to be optimistic, good reason, and I wouldn’t say that to everyone.”

  Amy felt as if her limbs were already growing numb. No, she told herself, hang on tight, don’t let go.

  “Just relax,” Martin urged calmly, “do as your doctor prescribes, and be of good hope and good cheer.”

  “And good faith.”

  Martin smiled, tapped her hand, and stepped out of the room to leave Amy with her thoughts… and with her prayers.

  Chapter 53

  Scott was sitting behind his desk, another hot cup of coffee in his hand. It was soothing, comforting, but that seemed as much of either one that he was likely to get on the job. His future was more uncertain than ever. But uncertainty could not long reign in Angeldale, or anywhere. Things were going to have to go one way or another, that seemed certain. The tension between himself and Doyle was increasing, and contact with the mayor had become virtually nonexistent. Scott felt as if he’d become invisible among the citizenry, as if he was a ghost lingering among the living, unaware of his own death well after it had happened.

  Scott began to consider his future, life married to Jodi Hoffman. Will her father, a physician, approve of her marrying a disgraced public servant of no means and few skills? Surely she would stand up to such a position, but what will that cost her? Will she be cut out of her family, chastised and hated, our children forever that family’s black sheep?

  I don’t care for myself, but Jodi deserves better than to be plagued by that for the rest of her life.

  The door opened and Doyle stepped into the office. He let the door close behind him and stood, staring at Scott as a tense silence filled the room.

  “Doyle.”

  “Scott.”

  The deputy just stood there, and Scott knew that something bad was going on behind his angry mask of a face. Scott stood up from behind his desk, nice and slow, careful that he might accidentally inspire the wrong reaction in his once-faithful friend.

  “Good rounds, Doyle?”

  The younger man nodded, stepping carefully toward the coffee pot. “Nothing to report.”

  Scott hesitated, but chose to say, “No? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

  “Me? No, I …” Doyle looked Scott over and went on, “No, nothing.” He poured himself the coffee and slowly raised it to his lips, turning to look at Scott from the corner of his eye. “You?”

  Scott let another little moment pass. “Nothing here.”

  Doyle nodded, taking a long, slow sip of coffee.

  “Never any followup on those rustlers shot you while back.” Not getting an answer, Scott went on, “Guess you really scared ‘em off.”

  Doyle nodded. “I’m trying not to dwell on it.”

  “No? Seems to me you’ve been more than willing, and conveniently able.”

  Doyle turned quickly to face Scott dead-on. “Conve—? What’re you saying?”

  “That you were hit where it wouldn’t kill you,” Scott remarked casually, his focus on the erratic reactions of his deputy. “If I survived so handily, I’d call it convenient and more and grateful to be able to.”

  Doyle seemed to give it some thought, then took another sip of coffee. “Call it what you will, then.”

  After another long pause, Scott asked, “Heard much from the mayor lately?”

  “The—? Why would I hear from the mayor?”

  Scott just shrugged and took another long, slow sip of his coffee. “Thought you two were getting close, thought he was taking an interest in your career.”

  “Well, he took notice after the dust-up, that’s all. Nice enough guy, for that type. But no, I ain’t seen the mayor lately.”

  Scott shrugged it off again and drank more of his coffee, but he wasn’t surprised to hear his deputy say, “What’re you getting at, Scott?”

  He said nothing, and a long tension crept by in nasty silence. “Just asked if you’d heard from the mayor, that’s all.”

  “I know what you asked, Sheriff Covey! I’m not stupid, not like you think I am! You’ve always thought that, haven’t you?”

  “No,” Scott replied calmly, but that was all he had time to say. Instead, he slowly set down his coffee cup to leave both hands free and attention undivided.

  “Your little pupil,” Doyle continued, “the son you never had.”

  “I think you should go home, Doyle, take some time off.”

  “Time off,” Doyle echoed, “look sharp, still barking orders at me like a dog!”

  “Go home, Doyle—”

  “A whelp! But puppies still have fangs, and old dogs only lose their teeth!”

  The tension reached a fever pitch, the two men staring each other down from across the room. Scott eyed Doyle’s hands, trembling just a bit, his empty fingers nearing to his gun. Scott’s eyes shifted from Doyle’s hand to his eyes and then back. Doyle seemed to be deliberating the moment, imagining his chances of success, his reasons for acting as he was almost certainly ready to do.

  A lump rose in Scott’s throat, fingers calm and steady and ready. Doyle stood with obvious nervousness, swelling hard himself. The moment passed with a slowness that was beyond reasonable, almost beyond real.

  Finally, Doyle said, “Yeah, day or two off, that sounds good.”

  Scott nodded, taking a long, slow breath that Doyle would not detect. “Good, Doyle, get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

  Doyle nodded to himself, muttering, “Yeah, yeah… I deserve it.” He set down his tin cup, pulled the office door open, and stepped out. “I do deserve it.”

  Scott relaxed a bit, muscles loosing along his upper back and shoulders. That was close, he told himself, too close. He knew that if it happened again, the two men would not both walk away from the meeting, and tragedy would be irrevocable. At least one would die, but surely no man would truly survive it.

  Chapter 54

  Amy was glad to be back on her feet, but she did still feel weak, and that worried her more and more. Just to recollect the serious expressio
n on her new doctor and old friend’s face brought a chill to Amy’s blood. She’d never imagined having to face such dire odds, but there was just no denying how serious things were, and how serious they were likely to get.

  Around her, the house seemed quiet, despite having two more guests in the home. Amy and Ellen were doing almost all the household chores, Martin working with Clinton and his hands. Scott came by often, too, he and Jodi taking long walks around the perimeter of the property.

  Amy watched them walking together, her heart warm with the notion of their union. They’d overcome much to be together, and while their future was still uncertain, Amy was confident that God’s will had been done, that His intentions coming together before Amy’s very eyes. She marveled at His greatness, as always, at the profound love and reason behind even the most seemingly tragic circumstances.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging on the living room wall. Her belly was filling out, but her skin was paler than usual, red hair limp, bags under her eyes. Not looking well only made Amy feel worse. She put her hand on her belly, feeling the growling life roiling inside her.

  Lord, please preserve my child. Whatever happens to me, I won’t complain. I will accept my fate without disturbance. But I beg you not to take my child. Let my sacrifice be for his or her survival. I know you will watch over my child and husband, leading them on Your straight and narrow, whatever happens to me.

  “There she is.”

  Amy turned to see Clinton approach with a smile. But his casual air melted away quickly as he took in her stark pallor. He gave her a little kiss and stood behind her, loving arms embracing, head behind hers. They both looked into the mirror, and Amy could see in their reflection the growing sorrow in Clinton’s expression. She could almost see herself fading from that reflection, leaving Clinton standing alone in a sad suggestion of what may be yet to come.

  Amy felt certain he could envision the same thing, almost strengthening its likelihood to near certainty.

  It was too much to address. Instead, Amy heard herself say, “I’m so glad Jodi is staying, and that her father is here.”

  “I’m glad for us all. He’ll keep that dandy on the straight and narrow and out of our hair, I don’t doubt that. And even more, of course.”

  Amy nodded. “You don’t really think Jodi is a bad influence, being here?”

  Clinton shook his head. “No, she… the midwife, Maria, you know how she is. But we’re above those old wives’ tales, aren’t we?”

  “Oh, of course.” But there was more in the air than old wives’ tales and ancient superstitions. Modern science had entered into the fray, and the prognosis, if not the diagnosis, had only been confirmed.

  Looking at him through their mirror reflection, Amy said, “Clinton, if… if I don’t make it—”

  “Stop, Amy, you will, you both will.”

  “I know,” Amy lied with a gentle smile, “I know, but if I don’t make it, I do want you to remarry.”

  “Amy, stop, you’re raving—”

  She turned to look Clinton straight in the eyes, only inches apart; no more reflections. “I want you to be happy, and I want our child to have a mother.”

  Clinton stammered, looking helplessly at Amy, around at the room, down at Amy’s belly. It was clear that he had no answer, and Amy simply set a hand on his cheek and said, “It’s what I want, and if it happens, it will be what God wants.”

  Her husband seemed to know there was nothing he could say, even if he had the strength. Amy just looked into his eyes, both of them tearing up, sad smiles bonding them once more. Neither could dare say goodbye to the other, though both knew they had to silently prepare for that sad possibility.

  Chapter 55

  “I don’t understand,” Alice said, standing in Giles’ small hotel room in Angeldale. “You love me, you love Jodi, you’re here and there!”

  “I know,” Giles admitted, his flattened palms pressed against his head as he leaned forward on the little table.

  “Now you know,” Alice said, hands on her hips, “this you know.”

  “I always loved you, Alice, and I always will. And Jodi, I knew her for so long, we’d been on that marriage track… I only ever reconsidered that because of you.”

  “But you reconsidered me once she was out of your sight, and then lied to me about it!”

  “No, Alice, I didn’t know how things were going to work out—”

  “So you kept me waiting back in Rhode Island to decide whom you loved more. Honestly, Giles! And now that you’ve been roundly rejected by Jodi and her parents… they are my aunt and uncle, Giles!”

  “I know it.”

  “By rights, they could turn me out of their family altogether were I to take you back!”

  “Yes, you’re right, and so too would they be.” Earning a stern glare from Alice, Giles corrected himself to say, “Not to reject you, of course, but me… I know I’ll never truly win your uncle’s respect.”

  Alice turned her back to him. “But mine is all too easy to earn, is that it? I’m like some poor dog in the rain, eager to have her belly rubbed.”

  “No, Alice, of course not.”

  “If you do not see me as a dog, then why did you treat me like one?” A long silence passed, and Alice could see Giles had no answer.

  Again.

  His voice came slow and drenched with self-loathing. “I never meant to, Alice. I thought I could navigate all this, that somehow, I could manage the twists and turns of life and love. I suppose that’s always been my fault, assuming myself more capable, more sophisticated than I truly was—or ever will be. But I am trying to correct my mistakes, Alice, and that must surely be worth something!”

  “It must surely be,” Alice repeated, “but to whom?”

  After a knowing pause, Giles gave the only answer that any half-honest person could give.“Myself … always myself.”

  Alice let the sad moment hover around Giles as he endured the misery of his own revelation.

  “Even now, I’m a broken man, Alice. I sit before you in tatters. My reputation is ruined, my family life wiped out. I suppose I could head out West, start again, but that’s just running away, not facing my problems. Down that road lay madness, and nothingness, empty. I won’t spend the rest of my life running, not if I have a choice.”

  Alice didn’t say, You really think you do?

  “There’s only one road for any of us,” Giles continued. “I can see that now. We think we have a choice, but no matter what we do, what choices we make, God keeps turning us back to where we started, where He wants us to be.”

  “Yes,” Alice agreed, giving it a little thought, “that is so.”

  “And wherever I go, or wherever I run to, I know I will always wind up here, in front of you as I am now.”

  After another breathy pause, she said again, “Yes.”

  “I’m done fighting with God, asserting my will over His. All I want now is to do what He wants. What will please Him will please us both, please us all.”

  “Yes,” Alice repeated. She stepped closer and he leaned forward. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in a tender embrace. “When you declared your love for me, I felt that all the suffering and all the loss in my life, it had all come to something positive, something I had never expected. I’d always loved you from afar, but it seemed from the start that you and Jodi were to marry. When things turned another way, I felt badly for Jodi, of course, but I was certain that it was all according to God’s plan. And I was glad for my part in that plan, Giles, for the good… and for the bad.”