CHAPTER 35
Thin, sandy-haired Dr. Enoch Steward came out of the bedroom carrying his black medical bag. He found Smoke, Denny, Brad, Cal, Pearlie, and Inez waiting for him. The group just about filled up the second-floor hallway.
“Mrs. Jensen is resting easily now,” Steward reported.
“What’s wrong with her?” Smoke asked. “Is she going to be all right?”
Steward placed the bag on a small table next to the wall and took a handkerchief from his pocket. He removed his glasses and began polishing the lenses with the cloth. “At this point, I can’t answer either of those questions definitively. There are any number of conditions that can cause a high temperature. She doesn’t seem to have any symptoms other than the fever, except that she roused enough to speak to me for a moment and said that all her muscles and joints ached badly. That leads me to believe it may be the grippe.” The doctor shrugged. “That’s unusual for this time of year, but not impossible by any means. Especially since she was around a great many people just a few days ago at the town social.” He smiled slightly as he put the spectacles back on. “If it is the grippe, I’m likely to have a busy couple of weeks in front of me. It spreads quite easily and quickly, you know.”
“What do we do?” Smoke wanted to know. “Is there some kind of medicine you can give her?”
“Actually, there is, and I administered a dose of it a few minutes ago. It’s rather new, and the company that makes it calls it ‘Aspirin’—”
“I know what that is,” Denny said. “One of the doctors in Europe told Louis it might be good for his heart.”
“That’s one of the things the chemists claim,” said Steward. “Is your brother taking it?”
Denny shook her head. “No, we came home not long after that, and he’s been doing better here, so he never tried it.”
“It’s something to think about if his condition worsens again. However, there’s a great deal more research to be done on the subject. For now, we know that it usually lowers a fever more effectively than cool compresses do.” Steward looked at Inez. “Although the compresses you were applying when I got here certainly did no harm and may well have helped some. I would recommend that you continue with them.”
Inez nodded and said, “Of course, Doctor.”
“What else do we need to do?” asked Smoke.
“I’m afraid that’s all that can be done, Mr. Jensen. I’ll leave some of the Aspirin powders for later, and I’ll come back out here tomorrow to check on Mrs. Jensen. Just let her rest, and if she wakes up, try to get her to drink. It’s very important in cases like this that the patient drink as much as possible.”
Smoke nodded. The patient, he thought. That wasn’t just a patient in there. That was Sally, the love of his life.
“I won’t sugarcoat things, Mr. Jensen,” Steward went on. “If it is the grippe, it can become serious, even fatal.”
“No!” Denny exclaimed.
“But the important thing to remember is that more patients survive than don’t, and most of the ones who don’t are either very young or in poor health to begin with. Mrs. Jensen was in good shape before she fell ill, wasn’t she?”
“As far as I know,” Smoke said, nodding.
“Then her chances for recovery are excellent. I know she’ll receive good care here—”
“The best,” Inez vowed.
“So try not to worry, all of you. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk with you out to your buggy, Doc,” Pearlie offered. “Want me to carry that bag for you?”
“That’s all right, Mr. Fontaine. It’s not that heavy and I like to hang on to it.”
As Steward and Pearlie went down the stairs, Brad asked, “Can I go in and see her?”
“No,” Inez answered before Smoke or Denny could say anything. “I will tend to Señora Sally. The rest of you should stay away. You heard what the doctor said about how easily the sickness spreads. You should not be around her any more than you already have.”
“You’re going to keep me out of there?” Smoke said.
Inez fixed him with a hard, level gaze. “I do what is best for everyone, Señor Smoke.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” he admitted grudgingly. “But if you need anything—”
“I will let you know.”
Smoke nodded and turned to Cal. “Come on down to the office,” he told the foreman. “We have things to talk about.”
“I’m coming with you,” Denny said. “What you and Cal are going to talk about concerns me, too.”
“I don’t see how,” Smoke said, but he had a strong hunch that he actually did.
They went down to the first floor and into Smoke’s office. Smoke sank wearily into the chair behind the desk, while Denny and Cal stood. The foreman held his hat in front of him.
“You want me to send a wire to Bob Coburn and tell him he’ll have to wait a while longer for those horses?” Cal asked.
“Bob sounded like he was in need of them,” Smoke said. “I hate to ask him to wait.”
“But there’s no way you can take that herd all the way to Montana now, with Miss Sally sick the way she is.”
“No, it’s going to be up to you to do that.” Smoke looked squarely at his foreman. “Comes right down to it, I don’t really need to go along anyway. You’ll be in charge of the drive, Cal. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll get those horses to the Circle C just fine.”
“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence, Smoke, but—”
“But there ought to be a Jensen along,” Denny broke in. “Those are Sugarloaf horses, after all.”
Smoke’s gaze bored into her. “You’d go running off on an adventure while your mother is so sick she might die?”
A flush crept over Denny’s face. Smoke couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment or both.
“You heard Dr. Steward say there’s a very good chance she’ll recover just fine,” Denny said.
“None of us know that,” Smoke pointed out.
“Are you going to send Louis a wire and tell him to rush home from his wedding trip?”
“Louis isn’t here,” Smoke repeated. “That’s the difference. You are.”
“I wasn’t around all those other times when Ma got sick or was kidnapped or shot by outlaws. She came a lot closer to dying when those things happened while Louis and I were off in Europe, didn’t she?”
“This is different,” Smoke insisted. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s no real need for you to go. Cal can handle things just fine.”
Denny looked over at the foreman. “I know that. Don’t think for a second that I don’t believe that, Cal.”
“This is between you and Smoke, Miss Denny,” Cal said tightly. “It’s family business. In fact, I don’t rightly feel comfortable even being here for this conversation—”
Smoke said, “You’ve been around the Sugarloaf for so long you’re pretty much family yourself, Cal. You and Pearlie both.”
“I feel the same way,” said Denny. She drew in a deep breath. With uncharacteristic humbleness, she went on. “You’re right, Pa. I shouldn’t have even considered going to Montana. I need to stay here to help any way I can.”
She sounded sincere, and Smoke believed that she was. For a moment, Denny’s impulsiveness and endless thirst for excitement had gotten the best of her common sense, but she saw where her true responsibilities lay.
“That’s good,” Smoke said, nodding.
“I think I’ll go see where Brad is,” she went on. “He’s probably pretty shaken up by everything. I’ll be around somewhere close by in case Inez needs anything.” She left the office.
Once the door was closed and Denny’s footsteps had receded down the hall outside, Cal said, “Don’t worry about those horses, Smoke. I’ll take care of everything.”
Smoke frowned. “I know that. But I didn’t promise Bob Coburn that we’d be leaving here on a particular day. We can hold off on driving them to the railroad for a day or two without having to notify him. I don’t reckon he’ll ever know the difference.”
Cal looked puzzled. “But earlier you said—”
“I know. I think I might have been a little unfair to Denny, though. I’ve made it clear to her that if she wants to, one of these days she’ll be running this ranch. But sometimes when she tries to stand up and take some responsibility, I slap her right back down.”
“If I’m speaking plain here, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you did that, Smoke. The situation being what it is, this isn’t a good time for her to be leaving. And nobody would blame you for being worried about your daughter going all the way to Montana with a bunch of wild cowboys . . . including one who’s been courting her.”
“She’s gone off on a lot more dangerous—and downright loco—jaunts than this one, like when she wound up joining that outlaw gang last year so she could get the goods on them. I trust her to be able to handle Steve Markham. She’s not going to lose her head over him.”
“You sound pretty sure about that.”
“I am.” Smoke sighed and shook his head. “But none of this can be decided now. It’s going to have to wait until we see how Sally’s doing. Maybe by tomorrow, things will be different.”
The question, Smoke told himself, would be whether they were better . . . or, unthinkably, worse.