A Most Unsuitable Match (40 page)

“But what do we do until then?” Fannie asked. “She’s hungry now.”

“I’ll write some instructions for you. We can get by with sugar water for a few hours, but you dare not linger in town.” With a sigh, he got up and headed back into the clinic.

Sam stroked Emma’s hair. Her beautiful red hair, glowing in the lamplight. He’d failed her again. Failed to protect her . . . failed to find her . . . failed to save her. Failed in everything. Why had God allowed it? Why hadn’t he answered Sam’s prayers? He lifted Emma’s hand to his cheek.
I don’t understand. I prayed so hard. I asked day and night. I begged. You knew where she was. Why didn’t you take me to her? Or bring her here sooner? Why?

“Sam.”

He looked up. Edie crossed to where he was sitting beside Emma. Without asking, she thrust a bundle into his arms. He stared down at the baby. Her face puckered and she let out a wail pathetic enough to pierce a heart of stone. Sam fell in love. Edie handed him a bit of cloth with something tied up in the corner. When it touched her mouth, the infant smacked her lips, suckling with gusto. Sam smiled in spite of himself.

“She’ll be all right,” Edie said. “We’ll take her to Mollie at the ranch. Edmund says it will take a week or so, but in no time things will be fine. She’ll have a wet nurse and all the love she can abide. We’ll take very good care of her, Sam.”

He nodded. “I-I . . . want . . to come.”

“Of course,” Edie said. “You must.” She stroked the baby’s cheek.

Let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking
unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.

H
EBREWS 12:1–2

The wind had picked up by the next afternoon, blowing bits of dried grass and debris along the hard earthen streets, rattling loose boards, and driving nearly everyone indoors. The team pulling the wagon to the graveyard lowered their heads and laid back their ears as they faced the wind. Fannie held Patrick’s hand as they walked along behind the wagon. With her free hand she clutched at her black cape lest it blow open. Every few steps she glanced over at Samuel, but he was looking straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the rough wood coffin in the wagon ahead of them. His shoulders were stooped and he walked with a shuffling gait that had nothing to do with the fall he’d taken up on the trail. Emma’s death had done something to him, something that frightened Fannie every time she looked at him. He seemed interested enough in the baby, but he hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and Lamar’s attempts at conversation had been even more one-sided than usual.

Abe had known where to procure a coffin. Fannie and Edie dressed Emma’s frail body in the silk walking suit Mrs. Tatum had given Fannie in Sioux City. And now Pete drove the wagon toward the burial ground while Sam and Lamar, Edie and Fannie, Edmund and Patrick and Abe trailed along behind through the cold, bleak day.

Just as the men lowered the coffin into the grave, Emma’s baby began to cry. The service was short. At the last minute, Samuel handed his Bible to Lamar and stood, tight-lipped and expressionless, as Lamar read from the New Testament about Jesus’ return and how the dead in Christ would rise.

And that . . . was that. The men filled in the grave and everyone walked back to Abe’s together. No one said more than two or three words. Fannie held the baby while Edie and the others gathered their things from their rooms. Abe brought an Arbuckle coffee box into the dining room. He’d put a thick layer of straw in the bottom, nestled hot stones he’d been heating in the oven into the straw, then folded a coverlet atop the stones. “That little darling’s going to be warm as can be,” he said with a determined nod.

Fannie settled the sleeping baby atop the comforter. They covered her with yet another, and then Samuel loaded the box into the back of the wagon, coming back inside to help Lamar with carpetbags and Edie’s things.

Edie drew Fannie aside. “Are you certain you won’t come with us?” She glanced at Edmund. “You haven’t forgotten what I said?”

Fannie shook her head. “I haven’t forgotten, but—”
Samuel doesn’t want me.
“I promised to teach Patrick the basics of Braille—if I can remember them.” She forced a smile. “I’ll be busy punching holes in paper for the next few days.”

Edie turned to Edmund. “You’ll come check on the baby?”

He nodded. Smiled Fannie’s way. “We’ll drive out next week.”

Lamar hugged Fannie, murmuring, “He’ll be all right, little miss. He just needs some time.” Fannie looked over at the wagon. She wanted to believe what Lamar was saying, but Sam seemed so broken. So lost.

Right before Sam climbed into the wagon bed, he came and kissed her on the cheek. She kissed him back, murmuring, “God bless you, Sam.” He didn’t smile, just climbed into the wagon bed and settled opposite Edie, the makeshift cradle between them.

Lamar climbed up beside Pete, and with that, they pulled out. Edie waved. Fannie waved back, barely resisting the threatening tears. As the sound of the wagon faded in the distance, Patrick turned to Fannie. “Bet I can beat you at checkers.”

Edmund tousled the boy’s hair. “It’s not the best day for checkers, son.”

Abe spoke up from the doorway of the boarding house. “But it’s always a good day for gingersnaps. Want to help me make some?” Patrick headed off with Abe.

Edmund put an arm around her. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you come back to the clinic with me and take a nap? I promise to be quiet as a mouse. I’ll busy myself in the clinic and when you wake up, we’ll have a quiet dinner and I’ll read to you. Anything you choose.”

It sounded comforting. Perhaps even restorative. Fannie nodded. “Thank you. I’ll just get my knitting from my room.”

“You . . . knit?”

“Thanks to Mother’s insistence and Hannah’s never-ending patience, yes. I noticed a hole in one of Abe’s sweater elbows the other day. I offered to mend it for him, and now that I think of it, he was surprised, too. At any rate, now that there’s little work at the hostelry, Abe agreed to let me earn my keep by knitting him some socks—maybe even a new sweater—once he sees proof I know what I’m doing.”

Edmund smiled. “I like the idea of an evening of reading and knitting.”

The look on his face made her think of Edie’s warning.
He’s going to propose. You must say no.
Perhaps going back to the clinic wasn’t a good idea. On the other hand, why should she spend an evening alone?

“I won’t be long,” she said, and headed for her room. Someone had shoved what looked like a letter beneath the door. She bent to pick it up and perched on the edge of her bed as she read.

Dear Fannie,

I realize I should have known when you wrote me in Virginia City that something was different. Now that I’ve seen the special affection you have for Patrick, I can only assume you feel the same for Dr. LaMotte, and that that is why things seemed different, both in your letter and when I returned. I’m assuming you are not yet officially engaged, although I cannot imagine it will be long before the doctor speaks the words.

Things have not turned out the way either of us expected, but please know that I wish only the best for you. If you think of me, please pray for me. I thought that I had found my calling, but in light of recent events, I find myself questioning everything. Of course, if my speech doesn’t improve, it will be even more obvious that I have been mistaken about a great many things.

Lamar tells me that everyone must endure a “dark night of the soul” and that I will endure mine. I hope he is right. He is a good friend, as are you. I wish for you, dear Fannie, great happiness.

Yours respectfully,

Samuel

P.S. I write this note so that you can visit Edie without any awkwardness regarding my presence at Bonaparte’s.

Fannie sat on the edge of her bed for a very long time looking down at Samuel’s letter, reading it over and over again, until someone rapped sharply on the door.

“Are you all right, Fannie?”

Edmund.
She put the letter down. “Yes,” she called. “J-just a minute. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She sat alternately looking at the letter and gazing at the work bag that held blue yarn and knitting needles from which dangled a half-finished sock. Finally, she went to the door and opened it a crack. “I’m sorry, Edmund, but I just . . . I’m exhausted. I think I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure?” He glanced toward the dining room. “Patrick’s counting on our savoring the cookies he’s baking.”

“I know . . . and I don’t like disappointing him, but really . . . I just want to be alone for a while.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

But he didn’t understand. Fannie could hear the truth in his tone of voice. She could see it in the way he turned away. He didn’t understand . . . and it made him angry.

Poor Edmund.

The moment the wagon came to a halt at the side door to Edie’s ranch house, a gaggle of chattering women gathered around the wagon to welcome Edie home. Edie introduced Sam as he was lifting her out of the wagon. “This here’s the parson that Roberta found on our doorstep. As you can see, he’s almost fit as a fiddle.” She smiled up at Sam, then looked back at the girls. “He took a bad bump on his noggin and the doc says to take it easy on him, so if he doesn’t talk much you all just leave him be, you hear?” She turned to Lamar. “And this is Lamar. He’s staying on if he takes a liking to it.” She grinned. “So let’s do what we can to see that he does.”

“I’ll do my best,” a mahogany-skinned beauty said.

“
Saints above
, Ruth,” a buxom brunette teased. “You’ll make the poor man blush. We’re not in that line of work anymore.” She nudged Lamar’s good arm. “My name’s Fern. I’ll do my best to keep her in line.”

Feeling himself in danger of blushing, Samuel reached into the box for the baby.

“And this is our newest boarder,” Edie said. “But let’s get inside for the rest of the introductions.” With that, she spread her arms and, like a sheepdog driving its flock, herded everyone toward the door.

Sam noticed that one of the women stayed behind with Pete, apparently intent on helping him with the team. “That’s Lily,” a petite blonde said as she came up behind him. “She loves animals. And Pete. But he doesn’t seem to know it.” She smiled. “I’m Roberta. You nearly scared the life right out of me that morning, by the way. I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but I never tripped over a dead body before.” She grinned. “Of course, you weren’t dead. Which was real nice to find out.” She nudged Sam’s arm. “Didn’t realize you were so handsome.”