Ellie's Legacy (12 page)

After pouring fresh water into her washbowl, Ellie cleaned
her hands and face. A glance in the mirror erased her sadness and curled her
lips into a smile. Her hair was a comical mass of unruly curls left tangled by
last night’s sleep. Luckily, Ty hadn’t seen her looking so disheveled.

She puffed air through pursed lips. What did she care? Blast
him, he most certainly didn’t. Agitated by her weakness for him, she screwed
her mouth to the side and chastised herself for even wasting a thought on him.
She pictured his mocking face…handsome though it was.

With a sigh, she attacked her crinkled hair. It took several
strokes of her brush to remove the gnarls, and Ty’s image, but the finished
product was added shine to her copper curls. Ellie was about to change out of
her nightclothes when there was knock on her door.

“Yes, who is it?”

“It’s Ty.”

“What do you want?” She tinged her tone with ice.

“Your pa is sick. I’m goin’ into town to get the doc.”

Concern replaced her annoyance. Ellie clutched her wrapper
and yanked the door open. “What’s wrong with him?”

Worry etched Ty’s brow. “I don’t know. When he didn’t come
for breakfast, Cook sent me to check on him. He’s burnin’ up with fever and
shakin’ with chills.”

Ellie pushed past Ty and raced to Pa’s bedside.

She stifled a gasp. The gray pallor of his skin was a stark
contrast to his white pillowcase. His face suddenly looked drawn and old.
Although he clutched the patchwork quilt clear up to this chin, his
body clearly trembled beneath the covers.
He looked terribly frail as he
peered at her through hooded eyes. It was hard to believe he was the same
strong man who towered over her yesterday.

Ellie smoothed a stray hair from his brow. “Pa, can I get
you anything?” His skin burned beneath her fingers.

“Thirsty,” he mumbled. “Want water.”

“I’ll be right back.” Ellie bolted from the room, her heart
thudding against her chest. She had already lost one parent to a horrible
fever. Was Pa going to be next? A lump rose in her throat.

Cook stood at the kitchen counter, wringing her hands. “Is
he all right? I’ve seen lots of sickness in my life, but I’m always nervous
when a body has such a bad fever.”

“He wants a drink,” Ellie said, her voice faltering. She
filled a glass with water and hurried back to her father’s side.

“Here, Pa.” She gently lifted his head and held the liquid
to his lips while he drank. She lowered him back down on his pillow. “Do you
want more?”

He shook his head and closed his eyes.

Ellie placed the glass on the night table and perched on the
bedside, stoking her father’s hand. “Ty went for the doctor, Pa. You just rest
until he gets here.”

Chills still racked his body, but he gave a discernable nod.

“Cook,” Ellie called out. “Please bring a bed warmer.” She
had to do something to stop his infernal shaking.

Shortly, Cook arrived with heated bricks wrapped in muslin.
Ellie pulled the covering from the foot of the bed, inserted the toasty packet
near her father’s feet, and then tucked everything back into place. She went to
the cedar chest for another quilt, and with a quick flick, spread a second
layer over her his shivering body. “There, Pa. Now you’ll be warmer.” She felt
helpless to do more.

Within minutes the chills appeared to subside. His breathing
grew deep and even, and he drifted off to sleep.

Ellie inhaled and released it with a sigh of relief. She
turned pleading eyes to Cook. “Please tell me he’s going to be fine.” Ellie’s
voice trembled.

The woman put an arm around Ellie’s shoulders.
“C’mon, darlin’.
Let him get some rest. The doctor will be
here in two shakes.”

Ellie shrugged away. “I can’t leave. I’ll sit quietly and
keep an eye on him.” She motioned to the chair her mother had favored.

Cook nodded. “Just call out if you need me.”

Ellie plopped down in the rocker next to the matching cedar
chest where the good linens were stored. Again, her mind filled with thoughts
of what life would be like had her mother lived. That question would haunt her
forever. So, too, would the answer.

She pulled her feet up, tucked them to the side, and covered
her chilled skin with her wrapper. With her elbow resting on the chair’s arm,
Ellie leaned into her palm and kept her eyes trained on her father. He was her
life, all that she had. She shouldn’t have been so rude to him. Nervousness
churned her stomach, but his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, and he
appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

When had he gotten sick? Yesterday when he demanded she
remove her gun, he looked and acted fine. A pang of guilt tugged at her heart.
Was she the reason for his illness? No! That logic was plain silly. Getting
angry wouldn’t cause a fever…would it? She heaved a sigh. Had Ty gotten to
Sparta yet? What kept him?

Her eyelids felt so heavy.

* * * * *

Ellie awoke to tingling numbness in her hand and arm from
supporting the weight of her head. How long had she slept? What a great job she
did of keeping watch.

A light snore broke the silence. She glanced at Pa’s
sleeping form then at the clock on the bedside table. Two hours had passed
since she sat in the rocker. It felt like much longer. Where the heck was Ty?

Her face scrunched with pain when she tried to move her
legs. Stiff from being bent, she unfurled, stretched them out straight,
then
moved her toes in circles to hasten the blood flow back
into her aching limbs.

Wobbly, she tiptoed to the bedside and touched her fingers
to Pa’s forehead.

His fever still raged, but luckily the bone-racking chills
appeared gone. Thoughts of her last defiant words to him flashed through her
mind, and she felt ashamed all over again. Her temper always caused her to
speak first and act later. She gazed down at her father, vowing to be more
respectful, then lifted her eyes and prayed. “Dear Lord, please don’t take Pa
from me. I promise to be a better daughter if you make him well. Amen.”

A commotion outside drew her to the window. She pushed the
heavy curtain aside and peered out to see Ty putting his horse in the corral.
Doc Henry Smith, Sparta’s town physician, secured the reins of his buggy to the
porch rail, and reaching inside the covered carriage, he retrieved his black
bag.

It was about time.

Ellie hurried to the kitchen door. She threw it open, almost
too breathless to speak. “Thank goodness, you’re here. Right this way.” She
gestured down the hallway.

Finally, she could quell her worrisome thoughts.

Doc Smith stopped in the bedroom doorway and blinked several
times. “How about opening up those curtains so I can see? It’s like nighttime
in here.”

Ellie pushed the heavy fabric aside and allowed sunshine to
flood the room.

Pa’s eyes flickered a few times before he opened them. His
face mirrored his confusion when he spied the doctor. “What are you doin’
here?”

“Well, well, well. You’re still alive, you old coot,” the
doctor joked. “You’ve got the whole household in an uproar.”

Doc Smith’s craggy face spread into a smile. His skin had
the same weathered appearance as leather. A tall man, he stood with an apparent
hunch, most likely from bending over the beds of so many sick people.

Pa tried to sit, but collapsed back onto the bed. “There’s
no need for all this fuss,” he insisted. “I just needed a little extra sleep.”

“Looks like you need a might more than that.” The doctor
pushed aside his black frock coat and followed the chain draping across his
vest to retrieve a pocket watch. With eyes not straying from the second hand on
his gold timepiece, Doc Smith held two fingers against the inside of Ben’s
wrist. “Hmm,” he muttered, moving that same hand to the patient’s forehead.
“Your pulse is stable, but you feel as hot as a flat rock on a summer day.”

“I’m sure it was worse earlier,” Ellie offered. “I thought
he was gonna rattle himself to death.”

Doc Smith crossed his arms and peered down at his patient.
“Looks like a bad case of the agues to me, but it’s nothing a little of my
magic powders and rest won’t help.” The doctor turned, fished in his black bag
and produced a small bottle.

He handed it to Ellie. “This is Calomel and Quinine. See
that your pa drinks a spoonful dissolved in water every four hours or so. It’ll
help keep that fever down and ease any stomach discomfort or aches he has. You
might want to give him a dose right now.”

Ellie nodded and started for the kitchen, but Ty blocked the
doorway. “How’s Ben?”

She glared up at him. “Well, he isn’t going to die just yet,
so if you had plans on becoming the new boss of Fountainhead, I’m afraid you’ll
have to wait.”

Ty’s brow furrowed and the glow in his eyes dimmed.

Ellie immediately wanted to reach out, grab the hurtful
words and gobble them back down her throat.

“Why would you say such a thing?” He glanced over her
shoulder to the bed and lowered his voice. “You know how much your pa means to
me.”

Ellie had no answer. She brushed past Ty, daring not to look
back at the doctor and feeling as though Pa’s fever burned her cheeks.

She stood at the counter, filled a glass with water.
and
pondered her brash behavior. What in world came over
her? Was she trying to hurt Ty the way he hurt her? There was no way she
believed he was biding time, waiting for Pa to die. Maybe she had once, but
that was just jealous fear.

What possessed her to be so cruel?

She inhaled, and with a trembling hand, carefully measured
the Doc’s powder into a spoon and stirred it into the water. Immediately, the
clear liquid turned murky and a foul medicinal odor drifted upward. Ellie held
the container away, wrinkling her nose. The stench lingered in her nostrils
just as the bitter words she’d spewed at Ty left a bad taste in her mouth.

She paused outside the bedroom, chewing her bottom lip in
nervous anticipation of facing Ty again, but Pa needed his medicine.

An apology was in order, and she’d have to swallow her pride
and offer it up. With a sigh, she steeled herself and marched back in, relieved
to see he had moved from the doorway and stood next to her mother’s rocker.

Her heart fluttered and an embarrassed flush heated her
cheeks. She was such a dolt.

Ellie avoided looking in Ty’s direction and concentrated on
her father, helping him into a semi-sitting position. “Here, Pa. Drink it down
like Doc says.” Swallow it like I wish I could my awful outburst. Tears stung
the back of her eyes.

“Well, Ben, it looks as though your nurse has everything
under control,” Doctor Smith proclaimed. “I have to get over to the Miller’s.
Zeke’s missus is due to have that youngun’ any day now. That man is so nervous
you’d think this was his first one instead of his fifth.” Doc chuckled as he
snapped his black bag shut. He walked toward the door, where he paused. “If you
aren’t feeling better by next week, send Ty to fetch me.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Pa’s voice cracked as he nestled back down
against his pillow.

“Yes, thank you,” Ellie said. “As soon as Pa is better I’ll
come into town and settle the bill with you.”

Doc Smith gave her a friendly salute. “I’m not worried about
it.” He started out of the room again, but turned once more. “Oh, I almost
forgot, Ellie, Clare asked me to find out if you’re coming to the dance this
Friday.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her face warming again. She looked up
from tucking the covers around her father, slowly raising her eyes until Ty was
in her line of vision. Words failed her. She had no idea how to answer. If only
her throat had seized like this before she barked at Ty and made a complete
fool of herself. Her heartbeat echoed in her head and the awkward silence made
her want to die on the spot. She opened her mouth. “I…”

“Yes, she’ll be there,” she heard from the other side of the
room. “I have the pleasure of escortin’ Miz Ellie to the dance.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. Why in the world would Ty
want to go anywhere with her after the tongue lashing she’d delivered? Was he
doing it to taunt her? She realized her mouth was still agape. She closed it
and plastered a smile on her face.

Doc nodded at Ty. “Well, you’re a lucky fella. I’ll let
Clare know you’ll both be there. You young ‘uns have fun.”

Fun?
Ellie hardly doubted it.
Surely there was a catch to Ty’s nobility. The unspoken tension in the room
choked off her air. Ellie looked for an escape. “I’ll show you out, Doc Smith.”

She stood on the porch and watched the doctor’s buggy until
it was just a dot in the distance. The irony of his words made her shake her
head. “Have fun.”

The dance hadn’t even happened yet, and it had been nothing
but a source of irritation. Now, nosy Clare Smith would be looking for Ellie to
saunter in on Ty’s arm.

Ellie’s lips thinned. Clare was the town’s worst gossip and
uppity snob, and the last thing Ellie needed was for Clare to pity her for any
reason. Could this day get any worse?

* * * * *

Ty rolled his eyes. What in the hell made him say he and
Ellie were going to the dance together? It was clear from the verbal thrashing
she gave him earlier that she no longer wanted to be in his company, let alone
attend a social function with him. Maybe lightning would strike him and he
wouldn’t have to worry about it. He already felt like he had been struck. A
bolt of Ellie!

He walked to Ben’s bedside with hat in hand. “Are you
feelin’ any better, boss?”

“I’m not feelin’ any worse, and I reckon’ that’s a good
sign.” Ben’s usual gruff voice wavered with weakness.

Ty patted the elder man’s hand. “Well, you rest and get
better like Doc Smith says, and don’t worry. I’ll take care of things till
you’re back on your feet. Ain’t seen hide nor hair of the Bryants, and that
makes me a little nervous, so I’m gonna increase the guard rotation.”