The Iron Wagon (19 page)

Dickson shook his head. “No ma’am. But he should be back soon. He had some free time, so he went to the gun and ammunition shop to buy some more cartridges for his Colt .45. I expect him back any—”

Darrell’s words were cut off as the door opened again and Whip came through the door, holding a box of cartridges in one hand. A grin spread over Whip’s face when he saw his wife. He hurried to her. “Honey, I’ve got something to tell you! I just had the joy of saving a little girl’s life!”

“Well, I’d love to hear about it, sweetheart,” Annabeth
replied, looking delighted. “Then I have something about a little girl to tell you! I need you go to the hospital with me right now. You can tell me about saving that little girl’s life while we’re walking over there.”

“Okay, but I need to get Chief Brockman’s permission. He may have something he wants me to do immediately.”

“No way to know,” said Darrell. “The chief happens to be at the hospital right now. He had something he needed to talk to Mrs. Brockman about, so he went over there to see her. After that he has some other stops before he returns to the office.”

Whip looked at his wife. “Well, sweet stuff, looks like we can head for the hospital.” He looked at Dickson. “Will you put this box of cartridges on my desk, Darrell?”

Taking the box in hand, Darrell said, “Sure will.”

As the Langfords headed for Mile High Hospital, Whip told Annabeth about how he had caught little three-year-old Becky Wilson when she fell from the balcony. “Whip, that’s a wonderful story! Now, let me tell you
my
story.”

Whip listened intently as Annabeth told him of assisting Dr. Bates at the hospital as he delivered Grace Fawley’s little daughter. Then she explained that as Grace was dying, she asked Annabeth to take the baby for her own.

Whip’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open. “Annabeth! Are you going to do it?”

She took hold of her husband’s hand and pulled him to a stop. “Honey, I am certain in my heart that the sweet little newborn girl is the one the Lord wants you and me to adopt. Grace has gone home to heaven to be with her husband, Charles. The
Lord already had this planned, and I have no doubt that He also planned for us to adopt their baby girl.”

Whip’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh yes! No question in my mind about it! Where is the baby now?”

“She is in Dr. Carroll’s office at the hospital. Dr. Bates took her there at my request when I left to go to the federal building. Breanna is taking care of the baby until you and I get there.”

Whip grinned. “So Breanna and Dr. Carroll both already know about the upcoming adoption.”

“They sure do! Dr. Bates has already told them the whole story by now.”

Whip gripped her hand tightly. “Well, sweet stuff, what are we waiting for? Let’s get to the hospital. I want to see my new little ‘almost’ daughter!”

A few minutes later, when Whip and Annabeth arrived at Dr. Carroll’s office, they found Breanna sitting on the small sofa, holding the newborn baby.

Instantly Breanna rose to her feet and rushed the little blond baby to Whip, who took her into his arms with happy tears in his eyes.

“I’m so glad you are going to adopt the Fawley baby,” Dr. Carroll said. “Do you plan to go to county judge Ralph Dexter and apply for the adoption?”

Whip nodded. “Tomorrow morning. Can the baby stay at the hospital tonight, Dr. Carroll?”

“Certainly. And Dr. Bates will go with you tomorrow when you apply for the adoption, just so there won’t be any problems. He can testify to what Grace Fawley said.”

“We’ll talk to Dr. Bates before we leave the hospital,” Whip said, “and set a time that will be convenient for him.”

The next day, Whip and Annabeth went to Judge Dexter’s office in downtown Denver in their buggy, accompanied by Dr. Bates, who drove his own buggy. When the doctor saw there would be no problem for Whip and Annabeth to adopt the baby, he excused himself, saying he needed to get back to the hospital.

The Langfords told the judge that they wanted to name the baby Elisabeth Grace. The name Grace, of course, was in honor of her real mother. A few minutes later, when the adoption papers had been signed by the judge, Whip and Annabeth overflowed with joy from their hearts that beautiful little blond six-and-half-pound Elisabeth Grace Langford was now officially their daughter.

When they left the judge’s office and stepped outside, the couple’s feet seemed to barely touch the ground as they thanked the Lord for giving them little Elisabeth Grace.

As they headed toward a nearby hitching post where the horse and buggy stood, Annabeth looked up at her husband. “Honey, can you spare a couple of hours from the office? We need to buy some baby bottles and milk. We also need to buy little Elisabeth some diapers and clothes, as well as a crib and blankets.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Whip gave her a big smile. “This is a great event in our lives. Since Dr. Carroll and Breanna are expecting us to show up at the hospital to pick up the baby, we’ll stop by there first, and I’ll run in and let them know about the
shopping we need to do. Then when we’re done, we’ll go back to the hospital, pick up our little daughter, and take her home.”

“Yes!” Annabeth said, as they stepped up to the wagon. “That’s how we’ll do it!”

Whip helped Annabeth into the buggy, untied the horse from the hitching post, climbed in beside her, and put the horse to a trot.

Later, when the shopping was done and Whip and Annabeth entered Dr. Carroll’s office, they found Breanna just finishing feeding the baby milk from a bottle.

When the new parents were ready to leave with their baby, Breanna invited them to come to the Brockman home for supper and to spend a little time with them so the family could get to know little Elisabeth Grace. The Langfords accepted the invitation, saying they would be there in time for supper.

At First Baptist Church the next morning, September 22, Pastor Bayless was beaming at announcement time. He stood and told the story of Grace Fawley’s death in childbirth on Friday and of the adoption of the orphaned newborn by Whip and Annabeth. He had the adoptive parents stand with Annabeth holding little Elisabeth Grace in her arms.

The crowd applauded and cheered, congratulating the Langfords on becoming parents.

After the church service, Whip and Annabeth approached Dr. Carroll and his wife, Dottie, in the parking lot as they were about to climb in their buggy and head for home.

Holding little Elisabeth Grace in his arms, Whip stepped up and said, “Dr. Carroll, Annabeth needs to talk to you.”

Annabeth was just a step behind her husband, standing close to his side.

Dr. Carroll smiled. “I’m quite sure what you want to talk to me about, Annabeth. Now that you have this baby, you are going to resign your position at Mile High Hospital in order to be a full-time mother. Right?”

Annabeth grinned sheepishly. “I should have brought this up to you the same day we adopted her, Dr. Carroll, but there was no time.”

“Annabeth, I have a number of nurses employed at the hospital to choose from, one of whom I will put in your place.” He paused a few seconds, then added, “Of course, nobody could really take your place, but you understand what I mean.”

Tears moistened Annabeth’s eyes. “I understand, Dr. Carroll. You’re so kind. Thank you for being such a wonderful chief administrator to work for.”

“You have my blessings, Annabeth, in your new life as a mother.”

“And you have
my
blessings too,” Dottie chimed in.

Annabeth brushed away the tears from her eyes. “Thank you both so very much.”

“Yes,” said Whip, “thank you both so very much.”

The Brockman family was standing close by. John took a few steps closer to them and said, “We didn’t mean to listen in on what was being said, folks, but with your wagon so near, we couldn’t help but hear the conversation.”

“No problem, Chief,” said Whip.

Breanna moved up beside her husband and looked at the two couples. “Why don’t you all come to the ranch and have Sunday dinner with us?”

The Carrolls and the Langfords exchanged glances, and Dottie said, “Let’s do as my sister is asking, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Whip.

“Me too,” replied Dr. Carroll. “Let’s go!”

When they all arrived at the Brockman ranch and entered the house, Dr. Carroll set his soft gaze on his fourteen-year-old niece, Ginny, and smiling, put an arm around her shoulders. “I wish you were old enough to have had nurse’s training. I would love to hire
you
in Annabeth’s place. You would be perfect for the job.”

Her uncle’s words made Ginny very happy. Smiling up at him, she said, “Uncle Matt, when I
do
get old enough and after I
do
finish nurse’s training, I will apply to you for a job.”

Dr. Carroll squeezed her tenderly. “You’ll get the job too, sweet girl!”

Meggie, who was standing close by, spoke up. “Uncle Matt, will you want me to work for you when I get old enough to take nurse’s training and graduate from nursing school?”

Letting go of Ginny, Dr. Carroll hugged Meggie. “I sure will, sweetheart! You and your sister will have jobs at Mile High Hospital, I promise.”

The women and the girls went to the kitchen while the men and Paul sat down in the parlor, with Whip holding little Elisabeth. Breanna had learned to always be prepared for Sunday
dinner company, and this day was no exception. Before leaving for church, she had placed two large chickens seasoned with sage dressing into the oven. The girls had peeled a large amount of potatoes and cut them into wedges, and they were ready in cold water, waiting to be put on the stove and boiled. The garden salad was also ready, as were apple pies for dessert.

During dinner, little Elisabeth Grace Langford was sleeping soundly on Ginny’s bed. Most of the talk at the table was about Whip and Annabeth’s new little daughter.

T
ime moved on. Paul Brockman still had his heart set on becoming one of his father’s deputy U.S. marshals when he turned twenty-one. John Brockman continued to work with his son, doing all he could to prepare him in every way to be a topnotch lawman.

Paul Brockman graduated from high school in May of 1891 and turned nineteen on October third of that year.

When Paul entered the kitchen for breakfast the morning of his birthday, he was surprised to find the rest of the family already there. Ginny and Meggie were standing between their parents near the table, and when Paul looked at them questioningly and moved toward them, they began singing “Happy Birthday” to him.

Paul stood there grinning until they had finished singing to him. Then he hugged his mother first. Ginny and Meggie were hugged next. Then Paul planted a manly hug on his father.

When all were seated at the table for breakfast, John led in prayer, thanking the Lord for Paul, then for the food. As they began to eat, Breanna told her son that his big birthday party scheduled for that evening was still on.

Paul smiled, knowing that the Carrolls would be there as well as the Langfords, Pastor and Mrs. Bayless, and some of the boys he had
graduated from high school with. “I’m looking forward to it, Mama.” He reached across the table to pat her hand.

John drained his coffee cup and placed it back on the table. “Son, I have something very important I want to talk to you about right after breakfast, before I head for my office.”

Paul nodded genially. “Yes sir.”

“What’s it about, Papa?” asked Meggie.

“Mama knows what it is,” replied John. “I’ll let her and Paul tell you and Ginny after I head for Denver.”

“All right,” said Meggie.

When breakfast was over, John took Paul into the parlor while the girls helped their mother clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. They sat on overstuffed chairs facing each other. “Son, I want to hire you to do paperwork in my office right away. Ordinarily, no one can be on the payroll of the U.S. marshal’s staff until he is twenty years old, but I obtained permission from the federal authorities in Washington, D.C., to hire you at nineteen because you are my son. Interested?”

Paul’s face had already brightened. “I sure am!”

“Good. You will not only do paperwork but anything else needed in relation to me and all the deputies.”

“That’s fine with me!”

“You see, son, this will very much help you to learn about how a federal law office is run and will aid in preparing you to become a deputy U.S. marshal when you turn twenty-one. I know this kind of work may sound a little tame compared to wearing a gun and going after outlaws, but it’s all part of the job, and it’s important that you learn all of the inner workings of the job.”

“I understand, Papa.” Paul smiled. “Sure, I’d like to put on a badge, strap on my Colt .45, and go after outlaws right now, but that will have to come all in good time.”

“Right, son. You’ve grown up watching me function as the chief United States marshal here in the Western District, but until you put on the badge and the gun belt and actually have to handle the bad guys, you still won’t know all that is involved in being a lawman. You are young yet, Paul, and I want you as well-trained as possible before that badge has a place on your chest.”