CHAPTER 37
Smoke was in the kitchen the next morning, frowning as he drank some of the coffee he’d found Inez Sandoval brewing when he came in from the living room, where he had slept in a chair. Inez had reported that Sally had spent a restless night, but that an hour or so before dawn had fallen into a deep sleep. Inez had come downstairs to put the coffee on and get started on breakfast. Sally normally took care of that while Inez prepared breakfast for the crew, but the ranch hands would have to rustle up their own grub this morning while Inez took care of the Jensen family.
Smoke had tried to tell her that he wasn’t hungry, but she’d insisted that he eat some flapjacks and bacon. Once he started, he discovered that he had more of an appetite than he thought. He had cleaned the plate and was nursing his second cup of coffee. Denny and Brad weren’t up yet, and Inez had gone to check on Sally.
The way the cook/housekeeper hurried into the kitchen made Smoke fear the worst for a second. He sprang to his feet and was about to ask her what was wrong when he realized she had a big smile on her face.
“Señor Smoke, Señora Sally is awake. The fever has come down. She still feels warm to me, but not like before.”
“I’m going up to see her,” Smoke declared. His tone made it clear that this time, he wasn’t going to be denied.
He practically charged up the stairs, much like he had gone up San Juan Hill with Teddy Roosevelt and the rest of the Rough Riders a few years earlier. The bedroom door was open, and as his broad shoulders filled it, he said, “Sally?”
“Smoke.” The voice from the bed was weak, but he had never been happier to hear it. He rushed to her side and gazed down at her in love and relief.
Rather than being pale as she had been the day before, Sally’s cheeks were a bit flushed, an indication that she was still running a little fever. Her thick, dark hair was damp with sweat. Smoke rested the back of his hand against her forehead for a few seconds. Definitely still warm, he thought, but not burning up the way she had been before.
“Wh-what happened?” she asked in a strained whisper. “I remember being in the parlor and . . . and not feeling well, and then you came in . . . Was Dr. Steward here? I seem to recall seeing him, but it’s all fuzzy, like . . . like a dream . . .”
“He was here, all right,” Smoke said. “You’re sick, Sally. Mighty sick. But you’re better now, and you’re going to keep getting better until you’re well.”
“Oh, Smoke . . . I’m sorry . . .”
“Sorry?” he repeated. “What in the world are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong!”
“I’m sure you’ve all . . . been worried.”
A damp rag lay next to the water basin on the bedside table. He picked it up and wiped it gently against her cheek. He could tell from the way she sighed that the coolness felt good.
“You’re damn right we’ve been worried,” he said, the gruffness of his voice trying but failing to conceal the depth of the emotions he felt. “You know good and well the Sugarloaf can’t get along without you. But it’s not your fault you got sick, honey. Not even close.”
“Where are . . . Denise . . . and Louis?”
“Denny’s here,” Smoke said, “but Louis is off on his wedding trip with Melanie. Don’t you remember?”
A new worry cropped up in his thoughts. What if the high fever had affected her brain? He had heard stories about people who got so hot from being sick that they were never the same afterward.
But then she said, “Oh . . . of course. How . . . silly of me. I just forgot . . . for a moment . . .”
“That’s all right,” he told her. “I’ll fetch Denny in a minute. She’ll be really happy that you’re doing better. So will Brad.”
Sally smiled and nodded weakly. She didn’t ask who Brad was, and Smoke was glad of that.
He didn’t have to fetch Denny. She appeared in the doorway, hair disheveled from sleep, clutching a robe around her. “Inez woke me up and told me Ma was better this morning.”
“That’s right,” Smoke said, beckoning her over.
Denny hurried to the bedside. “You really had us worried—”
“None of that, now,” Smoke broke in. “There’s nothing to worry about.” He hoped that was true, but a note of caution sounded in the back of his brain. Logically, it was really too soon to know if Sally was out of the woods. She was still sick, after all. Still running a fever even if it wasn’t as high as it had been the day before.
For the moment, they had hope, and that wasn’t to be discounted, either.
* * *
Dr. Enoch Steward’s buggy pulled up in front of the house around the middle of the morning. Smoke greeted the physician and told him about Sally’s improvement. Steward went directly upstairs to check on her, telling Smoke and Denny and Brad to wait in the parlor for him.
The smile on Steward’s face when he came back down the stairs was enough to make all of them heave sighs of relief.
“I believe the crisis is over,” the doctor announced. “Mrs. Jensen is still running a slight fever, and she’ll feel bad for several more days, perhaps a week, but unless her temperature shoots up again—which I don’t think it will—she should be out of danger.”
Smoke was on his feet, as were Denny and Brad. Smoke grabbed Steward’s hand, pumped it enthusiastically, and said, “We sure can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, Doctor. That medicine you gave Sally did the trick.”
“The Aspirin powders helped a great deal, I’m sure, but her own constitution and determination probably did more to shake off the illness than anything else. Most people don’t realize just how important their own attitude is to their health.”
Denny said, “Nobody could ever complain about my mother’s attitude. She’s about as fierce and determined as anybody you’ll ever find.”
“That’s why I had high hopes for her recovery,” Steward replied with a nod. “Now, she’ll need to continue to rest for at least a week, perhaps two. When she starts to feel better, she may want to go back to her normal routine right away. Don’t let her do that. That might increase the chances of a relapse.”
Smoke nodded. “Inez and I can see to that, Doctor.”
“I’ll come back to check on her every day for a few days, and then we should be able to cut back on the visits.”
“We’ve all been in to see her this morning.” Smoke’s gesture took in himself, Denny, and Brad. “Hope that was all right.”
“Well . . . it might have been better if you’d waited another day or so, but you’d all been exposed already, so now all you can do is hope that you haven’t picked up the illness.”
“What about you, Doctor?” asked Denny. “It seems to me that you must be around sickness all the time.”
Steward smiled. “I certainly am, Miss Jensen. I’ve been lucky that I’ve never come down with anything serious. The odds may catch up with me one of these days, but that’s just part of being a physician, I’m afraid.” He put his hat on. “I need to get back to Big Rock. I’ve given Señora Sandoval detailed instructions on how to care for Mrs. Jensen. Don’t hesitate to send for me if you need me.”
He left the house, and a minute later they heard the rattle of buggy wheels as he drove off.
Brad said, “Let’s go up and see her again.”
“Hold on,” Smoke said. “You heard what the doctor said. Sally needs to rest as much as she can. There’ll be time to visit with her later. For now, let’s just go on about our business.” He looked at Denny. “You and I need to go back to the office and talk.”
A slight frown appeared on her face. “I want to talk to you, too.”
“What about me?” asked Brad.
Smoke put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “I’ve got an important job for you, Brad. I know that all the members of the crew have been worried about your grandma. I want you to go out and find Pearlie and tell him everything the doctor just said. He can spread the word among the rest of the hands. It’ll be a real load off their minds. Can you do that?”
“Sure!” Brad turned and hurried out of the house.
Smoke and Denny didn’t say anything else until they were in Smoke’s office. Then Smoke perched a hip on a corner of the desk and said, “That was mighty good news, eh?”
Denny crossed her arms and her frown deepened as she looked at him. “You told Doc Steward that you and Inez would take good care of Ma. What about me? You think I won’t pitch in and help out?”
“I know you would if you were here,” Smoke said. “But considering what the doctor told us, I’ve got a hunch that you won’t be.”
“You mean . . .”
Hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake—he hadn’t forgotten that Steve Markham would be helping deliver those horses to Bob Coburn on the Circle C—Smoke said, “You were right when you said that a Jensen ought to be going along on that trip to Montana, and under the circumstances . . . it looks like you’re elected.”