Lori Connelly (3 page)

Evie entered the cabin, leaned the rifle against the wall beside the door and moved to a shelf by the fireplace. Doubt crept in. She paused a second. They’d always kept their money in the large clay jar. Inside should be coin from the sale of Spice and she hoped from the bag she’d seen that morning. One hand crushed Ben’s hat as she reached out with the other, removed the lid.
Empty.

She tried to ignore reason but the stark truth sank in slowly. His hat fell from her nerveless fingers.

He’d left her with nothing.

Anger and frustration rose up and muted the worry. Evie wanted to scream or kick something hard yet did neither. The effort to restrain emotion caused her to tremble. It wouldn’t do for Mr. Talbert to see her throw a fit through the open door.

Pride stiffened her spine. Shoulders back, chin up, Evie stepped back out into the harsh light of day. She looked over at the animal that grazed only yards from the barn. Her eyes closed a second. She owned little of value other than Daisy.

“Would you consider taking the cow?”

“The cow?”

His incredulous tone caused anxiety to well up. Rigid with tension, Evie broke out in a cold sweat. She forced words out past stiff lips, shame ashes in her mouth. “I’m sorry. She’s about all I have. I could throw in a couple chickens.”

“No,” he studied her awhile. “The cow will be fine.”

Mouth dry she gave him a quick nod then marched over to the barn. She grabbed a halter and a length of rope. The cow stood placid while she readied her to go. Minutes later Evie handed Daisy over to Mr. Talbert as she blinked rapidly to hold back tears.

“I’m very sorry about your son, Mr Talbert, about everything.”

“I believe you are. Your husband on the other hand,” He swung up into his saddle, “Well ma’am, out here we consider a man only as good as his word.”

Evie winced at the verbal jab but remained polite, “Thank you for accepting the trade.”

“There seemed little other choice.”

Heat crept up her neck.

“I could stay until the sheriff comes back, if you need.”

Composure held by a thread, her smile stiff, forced, “That won’t be necessary.”

“Are you certain ma’am?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Very well,” his tone clipped, his brown eyes filled not with the irritation she’d expected but pity, which felt worse. “Good day Mrs. Rolfe.”

Tense, she watched William Talbert ride away at a slow pace set to accommodate Daisy. Although Evie sensed he’d honor their deal, she didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he disappeared from view. In time, she hoped his anger would fade and they could mend fences someday.

Hours passed. Evie mucked out stalls, tended the chickens, washed dishes and swept the floor. Unable to be still, she then trudged down to the creek and retrieved the sun-dried laundry. She folded clothes, put them away, hung the basket and repaired her clothesline. Even with every conceivable chore completed, she couldn’t relax. She paced outside the window in front of the cabin as the day cooled.

It’s been so long.
Her hands twisted in the fabric of her cloak. Evie looked out to the shadowed lengths of forest. A gentle breeze toyed with loose strands of her hair. Squirrels raced along the split rail fence of the corral. A blue jay called from the barn roof. The peaceful late afternoon was driving her crazy.

Her angst deepened with each moment that passed. A pair of coyotes emerged from the trees to her left and captured her attention and interest. Frozen, poised to run, they watched her. All at once, she heard the rumble of wheels rolling over earth. Startled, Evie blinked and the animals melted away.

Her gaze swept to the road, scared and hopeful. She hardly dared to breathe. Minutes crawled by. At last, a team of mules lumbered into view an old farm wagon pulled behind them. Wheels tossed up a light cloud of dust as the sheriff rode around from behind the wagon, straight up to her.

“Did you find him?”

“Yes ma’am,” He dismounted, stood in front of her.

An arrow of fear shot through her heart at something in his tone. “Is he …  is he … ” She couldn’t get the question out past numb lips.

“He’s hurt pretty bad. I sent a man for the doctor.”

His somber expression spoke volumes. Tension twisted her gut. Fear rose up, stole her speech. Evie could only nod she understood as the wagon pulled up near them. The driver climbed down. He and Sheriff Green walked her to the back.

Evie leaned against the rough wood frame as the men lowered the tailgate. She drew in a long deep breath for courage then looked in at Ben, bloodied and beaten. His face was almost unrecognizable. Tears almost blinded her. Twice, her mouth opened and shut without uttering a sound.
How much can a man lose without dying?

All sound faded to the edge of her awareness. Evie stretched forward to hold a hand above his mouth. Breath feathered her palm and a fraction of her apprehension eased. Her gaze unfocused, she straightened.

“If you’ll step back ma’am, we’ll bring him inside.”

For a second Evie stared at the sheriff uncomprehending then his words filtered through. She moved, “Thank you.”

Adrenalin pumped through her veins. Evie darted into the cabin, ripped quilts off the bed as the men entered. They laid Ben down on his back on the mattress. She thrust a pail at the Talbert hand, John, and asked him to fetch some water from the creek. With hands that shook, she lit the lamp. She set it on the dresser, looked down at her husband.

Ashen skin made a stark contrast with blackened eyes. His nose was easily twice its normal size and new smudges marked his jaw, chin and left cheek. Evie reached down, touched his arm and whispered his name. He didn’t respond.

A single tear ran unheeded down her face as she started to tend her husband. Evie pulled off his worn boots. The sheriff helped her strip off his pants. The long, muscular legs sported a few bruises on his thighs but otherwise seemed unharmed. She moved on to his once green flannel shirt.

Stained with dirt and wet with blood, the fabric clung to his shoulder. She gently peeled it away and uncovered more than a battered body, discovered a source of the blood. Heart in her throat she stared at the ugly wound. Her fingers, one by one, loosened the flannel. The ruined shirt fell to the floor. Dying was a real possibility.

“Ben?” Evie touched his uninjured shoulder, soft. He reacted with a low moan. She tried again in a more forceful tone. “Please, Ben, wake up. Open your eyes.”

His eyelids fluttered a few seconds then stilled. Evie picked up a blanket and covered him to the waist. She dug out some towels, scissors and an old sheet then tossed most of the supplies onto the table, impatient. Fear raced along her nerves as she returned to sit on the edge of the bed. She put a folded towel over the weeping hole in his shoulder.

“He was attacked?”

“Yes ma’am.”

John returned, set the pail on the floor beside her. Evie got up, filled a pot with water to heat. While the men unasked built a fire, she cut a few long strips from faded cotton, her usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“Who?”

“Ma’am?”

“Who did it?” With a handful of just made bandages, some washcloths and a bowl, Evie returned to her husband’s side.

“I don’t know.”

Her gaze drifted over Ben. The rise and fall of his chest offered small comfort. Evie reached over, brushed back matted hair and found a good-sized lump near his right temple. Tears stung her eyes. She half filled the bowl with water, started to wash the blood off his face.

Anger snapped along strained nerves. Evie shot a glance over at the sheriff. “What do you know?”

“Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Lucky?” Her gaze became a glare.

“One of your neighbors found his mare, if he hadn’t I doubt we’d have found Ben in time.”

“Neighbor? Mr. Talbert?”

He shook his head, “Thomas Sullivan.”

“Was he the one who hurt Ben?”

“No ma’am.” Sheriff Green straightened from his crouched position. He hung the pot she’d filled over flames that danced along sticks.

“But he knew where Ben was?”

“Tom showed us where he found the horse. Ben was near there, at the bottom of a small ravine.”

“How did you know to look there?”

“Just like chasing down a wounded animal, we followed the blood trail.”

Evie turned to stare at John with wide eyes, horrified at the images those words invoked, “You what?”

“I think you’ve helped enough, go on home now.”

John had the grace to mumble an apology as she watched him take his leave. A hand touched her upper arm. “You all right?”

Evie started, looked up at the sheriff, “I’m fine.”

“You look-”

“Tired? Scared out of my mind?” Her voice, thin, strained despite her desire to sound calm, “I’ll survive.” Evie got up, walked outside, tossed fouled water out of her bowl. “When will the doctor get here?”

“Soon I’m sure.”

All of a sudden, Ben groaned. Evie spun at the sound and hurried to her husband’s side. His eyes open, he stared up at her. Pain etched deep lines on his face.

Her fingers lightly touched his, “Ben.”

His lips moved in a sad attempt at a smile. “Hey. Pretty. Lady.” He drew in a breath between each word as his gaze swept the room. “Where am I?”

“You’re home.”

Ben looked up at her. His eyebrows drew together, “Home?”

“Yes.”

“I,” His eyelids fell shut. “Don’t … ”

“Ben? Ben?”

Only silence answered. Evie stared down at her husband for a moment longer. He didn’t move or make a sound. Her shoulders drooped. Concern knotted her stomach as she moved over to the fireplace and filled her bowl from the kettle.

Without a word, she strode back to Ben’s side. Evie lifted the blood soaked towel from his shoulder then dropped it on the floor. Nerves stretched taut, she dipped a fresh cloth in the hot water and started to clean around the wound.

“Mrs. Rolfe,” The sheriff paused. Evie glanced up. The tall man pulled up a chair near her, sat down. With a cautious expression and a gentle, careful tone, he asked. “Do you know who’d want to hurt your husband?”

Evie looked back down at Ben. Her eyes burned but she refused to cry. She scrubbed off the last bits of dried blood and dirt, “Ah … ” Her task finished, she laid a fresh towel over torn flesh. “Other than Mr. Talbert, I … ”

“You think Mr. Talbert is responsible?”

“I don’t know but the other night some of his men-”

A welcome sound drifted through the walls, sent a wave of relief over her. Evie held up a hand and shook her head when the sheriff started to say something. She thrust the bowl on the dresser and almost ran to open the door.

In front of the cabin, a buggy rolled up. A slight built man dressed in all brown from trousers to string tie stepped out of the vehicle. With short light brown hair, plain features and wire-rimmed spectacles, the medical bag in his hand was the only thing of note about the man.

“Mrs. Rolfe, this is Dr. Black,” The sheriff walked up, offered an introduction as she motioned the other man inside.

“We’ve met,” she addressed Sheriff Green then turned her attention back to the doctor, clasped his hand. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to Ben. “He’s bleeding badly.”

“Let me take a look.”

Dr. Black moved directly to the bedside, set his bag on the dresser. With quiet efficiency, he examined Ben. A guttural moan escaped his lips. Evie walked over to the foot of the bed as her husband opened his eyes and lightly touched his leg.

“The doctor’s here.”

Ben looked up at the man beside him then down at Evie. He tried to move then stilled when the doctor placed a hand on his chest. His breath labored, perspiration covered his face. Pain twisted his expression into a grimace. She averted her gaze to stare at the blazing fire.

Dr. Black laid a hand on her arm, “I’ll need hot water and whiskey if you have some.”

After a few seconds, she nodded then with a swish of her skirts, stepped away. She reached up on the shelf and pulled down the large flour tin. Cheeks aflame, Evie avoided the men’s curious gazes as she dug out the bottle she’d hidden. That it was half-full startled her a moment then, with a sigh, she put the container back. Ben had obviously found it.

Her mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile, she handed the liquor to the doctor. She moved to the hearth, lifted the heavy, steaming pot from over the fire then set it down on a folded cloth in the middle of the table. After that, she added soap, some bowls then hovered, watched the doctor spread out his own supplies.

“Your husband is in good hands.”

“I know.” Although grateful for the reassurance, her voice came out hollow.

“You know Dr. Black?”

Evie nodded. Her gaze never left the doctor as he helped her husband swallow some whiskey. He turned from his patient, washed his hands then started on Ben’s shoulder. She watched him clean out the wound without a noticeable flinch but her eyes widened as he threaded a needle. When the sharp metal pierced her husband’s flesh, she felt the blood drain from her face.

Saliva gathered in her mouth. Poise crumbled. She swayed but couldn’t look away. Evie heard the sheriff speaking to her as if from a distance.

“Ma’am …  ma’am maybe you should step outside?”

Her mind fuzzy it took a moment before Evie understood what he’d said and her gaze swung to him. She stared at the tall man a few seconds, blinked then stumbled outside. Crisp, cool air feathered her face.

“You were telling me about some men?”

Evie started. The sheriff had followed. She turned, found him right behind her. “I was?” Movement caught her eye. On her left, a few yards away, was a horse, picketed. “Oh, yeah, yesterday late afternoon,” she heard a groan, paused, flicked a glance back at the cabin. Worried, on edge, she couldn’t stand still, shifted her weight from one foot to the other, “Some men showed up, mad about Eddie Talbert getting hurt.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Other than they must work for the Talberts?” Evie shook her head. “I’d never seen them before.”

“Would you or your husband recognize them?”

“Ben wasn’t here and I doubt I could. They were riding all around, yelling, and firing shots. I was scared.” The doctor appeared in the doorway and gestured for her to come. Evie took a step toward home then stopped, looked back at the sheriff, “but Mr. Talbert would know. He told me he fired those men.”

“Interesting,” He inclined his head. “I believe I’ll head out now ma’am. I’ll be back out soon to speak to your husband.”

As the lawman loosened his horse, Evie walked away without another word, and ducked back inside. She scooted around Dr. Black and moved to Ben’s side. He rested, eyes closed. She leaned down, brushed a damp lock of hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Is he going to be okay?” Her gaze went to the man next to her in the midst of drying his hands.

Dr. Black gave her a kind smile and prompted, “I need some wide strips to bind his ribs.” He waited until she moved to the table and started to cut the sheet before he continued. “I’ve stitched up the knife wound.” With swift, sure motions, he took the cloth from her and worked it around Ben. “He’ll likely have a nasty headache given the size of that goose egg and these ribs will take a while to heal.”

His neutral tone and carefully chosen words didn’t escape her notice. Evie put the scissors down, watched him finish the binding with her arms hugged around her waist. “So you think he’ll be okay?”

“As long as that shoulder doesn’t get infected, yes.”

Dread settled in her gut. Her mouth dry, she didn’t speak for a moment. She inched closer. “Is that likely?”

“All we can do now is pray.” His gaze held compassion.

“I will,” Evie moved back to the bedside. Her hand touched Ben’s arm for needed contact, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” The doctor started to repack his bag.

“What do I owe you?”

“It’s late. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.”

“But-”

He patted her hand. “We’ll settle up then.”

“All right,” she didn’t have the heart to protest further.

“The best thing for him is sleep.” Dr. Black shrugged into a light jacket and donned a narrow brimmed hat. He gestured to the bottle still covered with bits of flour. “If he wakes up in too much pain, give him more.”

Evie walked him to the door. The control she’d held so tight threatened to fall apart. Emotion inexplicable, tears gathered. She exhaled a shaky breath. “He could’ve died.”

“But he didn’t.” Gentle fingers cupped her chin, tilted her face up so Evie looked into his eyes. “The best thing you can do for Ben now is get some rest. You need it.”

“I will.”

Without another word, the doctor left. Evie sank down in the chair beside the bed. Weary, she laid her head down, rested her cheek on Ben’s arm. Her eyes drifted shut. Sometime later a touch on her hair startled her awake.

“Doll.”

“Ben?” She lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at him. At first, he didn’t respond. His eyes still closed, she thought perhaps he’d fallen back asleep.

“Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Head. Side. Shoulder. Everything.”

Evie pushed up her feet, poured some liquor in a cup. She slid an arm under his shoulders and helped him up enough so that he could drink. He never opened his eyes or spoke again. She settled Ben back down then eased away from him. His breathing deepened, in minutes it was clear he slept.

Unable to go straight back to sleep herself, Evie moved around the room, restless. She threw his stained clothing and towels in a basket then pushed it under the bed. Exhausted, her head throbbed. She started to clear the table and swayed. One hand reached out, pressed against the wood surface and steadied her. After a moment, she trudged back to Ben’s side, resigned to sleep again in the chair.

The night seemed endless. Every time her husband made a sound, Evie jerked awake, fear clawing her heart. It took long moments to calm each time. When morning arrived at last, she felt worse than the night before.

Her eyes burned. Muscles stiff and aching, Evie stumbled through chores then returned, collapsed onto her chair. Hours passed. Her hair went uncombed, face unwashed, dress unchanged, she did nothing but sit by Ben who mostly slept until the doctor arrived around noon.

As Dr. Black checked her husband over, he woke for more than a moment.

“What happened?”

Evie leaned close, spoke soft. “You were attacked.”

“I was,” Discomfort clear, he responded with effort. His eyes closed. For a second she thought Ben had fallen asleep yet again then he spoke. “Who? Why?”

“I was hoping you’d tell us.”

“I don’t know. Sorry,” he took a breath, “So I’m at your home.”

“Our home.”

“Our home?” His eyes opened. He turned his head to look straight at her, brow furrowed.

A childhood memory of a man who’d fallen from a horse stirred and concern filled her. “Do you know who you are?”

“You called me Ben,” He took an audible breath. “But my full name is Benjamin, Benjamin James Rolfe.”

“Thank God,” Relief cascaded through her.

Swollen lips attempted to form a smile. “So what’s your name sweet lady?”

A shiver went down her spine. His words pierced her bubble of cheer. Unease crept over her. She stared at him for a full moment, “That’s not funny.”

“Not trying to be.”

“It’s all right,” Dr. Black inserted. Evie started, she’d forgotten his presence. His low tone a clear attempt to soothe, the doctor continued. “Go ahead tell him your name.”

“Evie, I’m … Evie.”

“That’s a right pretty name,” his words slurred.

“So you said the first time you heard it,” She muttered but her words went unheard. He’d fallen asleep again. Evie turned her gaze on the doctor. His somber expression didn’t comfort her. “Is it normal to sleep like that?”

The doctor nodded. “His body needs the rest.”

“Okay,” Evie accepted that easily and moved on to the question that burned inside her. “Why doesn’t Ben know me?”

“Well, head injuries can rattle a person for a time.”

Worry sharpened her tone, “There was a man where I grew up who forgot everything, everyone, had to learn to dress and eat again like a baby. Is that what’s happening to Ben?”

“I’ve heard of such cases,” Dr. Black took her hand, patted it with his other one. “But Ben knows who he is and that’s a good sign. Give him time, let him recover.”

“Then you think he’ll remember me?”

“Likely.”

“If he doesn’t?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble. Wait a few days, see how he does,” He squeezed her hand then released her, stepped back.

Dr. Black turned to the table, snapped his bag shut. Evie walked him outside. He waited by his buggy while she fetched a small bag of dried apples and a crated chicken.

“Would these cover what we owe you?”

“It’ll do,” The doctor accepted the offering. “I’ll be back out to check on Ben tomorrow.”

Arms crossed at her waist, Evie watched him set what she’d given behind the black leather seat. He climbed in, snapped the reigns and drove off. Her shoulders slumped. Alone and solely responsible for Ben, she felt weighed down with worry.

Evie went back to the cabin on leaden feet. Once satisfied, her husband rested easy so she sat down, closed her eyes and yet minutes later remained wide-awake. Though far past tired, she couldn’t settle down. She got up and changed into a clean dress of blue calico, tidied the room, fussed with Ben’s blankets then reached down, pulled out the laundry basket.

After she propped the door open, Evie carried the clothes outside. She soon had water boiling in a large pot hung above a fire and tossed in the stained items. The hot, unpleasant job took up a good portion of her afternoon. She yawned often as she hung the last of the laundry up to dry. The sound of a moan floated out of the cabin while Evie kicked dirt on the fire. She hurried inside straight to her husband, “Are you all right?”

“Could I have some water?” he rasped.

“Of course,” She filled a mug from the kettle and returned.

His hands shook as he took it from her, which sloshed the lukewarm water over his fingers. Evie put her hands over his to steady them. Ben raised his head, took in a few long sips then pale, shaking, laid back.

“Thank you Evie.”

Tense, hopeful, worried, she hesitated a second then took the mug from his slack grip, put it down on the dresser. Her voice calm, level, “You remember me?”

Ben cleared his throat yet his voice emerged husky. “Of course, you’re the pretty lady who’s taking care of me.”

“So you don’t know who I am?”

“Other than your name, no,” he paused a moment, coughed, then continued in a soft, forced tone. “But I’m guessing I should.”

Evie couldn’t keep the words inside, “I’m your wife.”

“Oh,” He closed his eyes, exhaustion obvious, his words slurred. “That’s … ”

Ben drifted off again. Evie stomped her foot so frustrated she wanted to scream. She needed him to stay awake more than a blessed minute and talk to her. Her fingers tangled with his as she sank down on the rocker. Tears filled her eyes then spilled over, trailed down heated cheeks. She needed him.

The remainder of the day passed in the same manner. When Ben stirred, they would exchange a few meaningless words. Evie gave him more sips of water and late in the evening, she managed to coax some broth into him. By the end of the very long day, little had changed.