Chapter Seventeen

Edward had to drug Samuel to keep him from trying to get up and check on Kathleen himself.

“All right, brother, just let me get you something to drink first. You have lost a lot of blood and need to take in liquids.” He said all this with his back to Samuel, as he stirred a goodly dose of morphine into the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Here, I’ll hold it for you. That’s it. Get as much as possible down. There you go. Now, hold still a minute, and just let me check that bandage before you try to get up.”

Samuel lay back. Just the act of swallowing the coffee seemed to have drained him.

“Edward, how badly hurt was Kathleen? Does it look like…did he…hurt her?” Samuel closed his eyes. Edward grinned. As Samuel’s breathing became shallow and rhythmic, he raised the sheet up to Samuel’s chin.

“That’s it, brother, sleep for now, and we’ll take all the questions tomorrow.”

****

When Samuel woke again, it was to see Sergeant Wilkes staring at him.

Samuel blinked his eyes several times. Howard was still there, so he must be alive.

“Howard, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was given orders to check on you. You and the schoolteacher.”

Kathleen! Oh, Lord, how was she? Samuel jerked his head to the left, and all he saw was the wall. He turned back to the right, and there was a large curtain down the middle of the room.

“Where is she? She was here.”

Edward spoke from behind the curtain. “Calm down, Samuel. I’ll be right there.”

The curtain parted enough to allow Edward to slide through.

“Now, what’s all the fuss about? I have to tell you, Samuel, you are not a very cooperative patient.” Edward stopped by the bed and took Samuel’s wrist in his hand. “You seem to have slept well last night. Any pain this morning, other than when you flex your shoulder?”

“No, I’m fine. Where is Kathleen? Where did you take her?”

“She is right there, on the other side of the curtain. I figured I would not be able to keep you in bed after this morning, and that you might need a little privacy to wash up and change. But you’re going to need to move slowly. I’ve kept you drugged for two days to give your shoulder time to begin mending.”

The look Samuel gave him would have scared most men, but Edward was aware Samuel had good sense and understood that it was all done for the best, so he just stood there grinning like a boy who had played a prank on a friend.

“So, has Kathleen wakened yet?”

The grin left slowly. “No, not entirely.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, we’ve managed to get small amounts of broth down her, at various times. Like when she’s mumbling. She keeps whispering she wants to sleep. That it’s easier that way. Unlike you, she has not tried to leave the bed, so it was not necessary to drug her. So it concerns me that she continues to sleep. Now, as soon as your vision has cleared and you can keep down some broth, I’ll let you bathe and see if you can talk to her.”

Howard Wilkes cleared his throat.

Both Samuel and Edward had forgotten he was there. He had their attention now.

“I just have one important question to ask, Detective. Is Nash dead?”

“Yes, Howard, he is dead. We won’t need to worry about him ever again.”

Howard nodded. “Just one more thing. Did you kill him?” Howard had to make some kind of report, and while it didn’t matter a hill of beans to him, one way or the other, the captain was going to want to know.

Samuel was slow to answer. His mind ran back over the pursuit.

“I would have killed him. I would have killed him in cold blood, if needed. But I didn’t. He wrestled with a gator, and he lost. Gator took a large chunk out of his upper thigh, and by the time I could kill the gator, Nash was near gone. Every heartbeat was forcing out a stream of blood. I dragged him out of the water, and all he could say before he died was ‘tree.’ ”

“Well, then we know that deep down somewhere he must have had some good left in him.”

“What the hell gave you that idea?”

“He was trying to tell you she was by a tree. That’s where Albert and I found her, tied to a tree.”

Samuel slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The room spun for a few seconds, so he kept his eyes closed. He finally opened them and looked at Howard.

“You’re a good man, Howard, if you can give that killer credit for any human feelings. Regardless, it’s done.”

“Captain Lance said to tell you to take your time, get well, and then you can write your report.” Howard grinned.

Samuel give his half smile. “Tell the good captain… Tell him I’ll be in soon.”

Samuel and Edward waited until the sickroom door closed behind Deputy Wilkes.

“Now, Edward, how bad is it that Kathleen is not waking?”

“Truth be told, Samuel, I’m not sure. She obviously has been through a deeply traumatic experience, being taken in the night, by a known murderer. She had a serious case of pneumonia, which Martha and Mrs. Peters handled without much help from me, I might add.”

Samuel raised one eyebrow in question.

“Well, it seems that modern medicine has yet to find anything more effective than a mustard plaster, when it comes to problems with the lungs. And grateful I am for them—the ladies, I mean. And while the pneumonia was very hard on her, I believe Kathleen’s refusal to wake up has more to do with her mental state than her physical one.”

Samuel slowly stood, one hand on the bed in case the room started moving again. When it appeared he would be okay, he said, “I’d like that bath…”

He was interrupted when Martha bustled in. Patrick and Cyrus were right behind her with a large copper washtub. Their faces lit up with smiles when they saw Samuel standing on his own.

“Praise be!” Martha exclaimed as she dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron.

“Well, about time you got up and stopped lollygaggin’.” Cyrus grinned. “I’d hug you, but you reek of swamp. So where do you want this tub?”

“Over here, boys, on this side of the curtain. You can fill it and then get out and let a man make himself presentable in peace.”

Martha clucked at the foolishness. “I fetched you clean clothes and a towel, and…oh, here comes the water now.”

Through the door marched a line of young women, each carrying a bucket of hot water to pour in the tub.

Edward stood shaking his head as they all marched back out, followed by Martha, Patrick, and Cyrus.

“It must be difficult, Samuel, being so important to so many people.” Edward was grinning like a fool, as he headed for the door.

“I’d make you eat those words”—Samuel grinned weakly—“but I don’t want my water to get cold.”

“Well, just don’t wet the bandage. I’ll be back in a while to change it.”

****

Samuel bathed as best he could with only one hand. He agreed with Cyrus: anything would be an improvement. He couldn’t manage a shirt, so he just threw it over one shoulder. He opened the curtain in the middle of the room and positioned a chair beside Kathleen’s bed.

The door opened slowly, and Mae peeked around the corner. Her eyes filled with tears the minute they found Samuel. She waddled across the room, her seven, almost eight months of pregnancy very much in evidence. Samuel stood and took her in his one good arm as she circled his waist with both hers. Samuel understood the feelings running through her.

It may have been six years past, but he would never forget the rage that had run through him when he saw Mae, battered and bloody from the attack made on her then.

She finally wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go and get yourself really hurt, or I’d have been very angry with you.”

Samuel softly kissed the top of her head and sat back down.

“Mae, how did you make it through your ordeal?”

It broke Mae’s heart to hear the fear in Samuel’s voice.

“Oh, brother, she’ll work her way through all this. After all, she has you! Edward said he was sure, once she knew you were here with her, she would come out of this.”

“But I was not there when she needed me most,” Samuel whispered.

Mae replied, in her very best mother-tone, “Samuel Hinton, you don’t get to decide when she might need you the most. That is up to Kathleen and the good Lord. You are here now, and that’s what matters right this moment. Now, I’m going to have Cook send in some food for you. Edward told me I could have ten minutes only, and then I have to go back to bed. So you eat something, and after that you have one of the boys shove your bed over here next to Kathleen. Then you can just rest here all night and talk to her.”

Good to her word, Patrick and Cyrus came in and arranged his bed next to Kathleen’s. Martha visited with a tray of beef in broth, bread still warm from the oven, and pumpkin pie. She changed the bedding on Samuel’s bed while she fussed over his lack of appetite.

“I’ll just leave this tray, and you can eat whenever you get hungry. The doctor says he’ll be in to check the little missy in a while.”

Samuel gave her a weak smile in return as she quietly closed the door behind her.

He had eased into a light sleep when whispers reached his ears. He was immediately awake and extended a hand to touch Kathleen.

She appeared to be having a conversation with someone.

“But it hurts too much. I just want to drift away.”

He cupped her face in his left hand. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? It’s me, Samuel. Please, love, you must wake up.”

She continued to plead with someone. “But I don’t want a life without him.”

Samuel was becoming alarmed. It sounded like she was resigning herself to death.

“Kathleen, wake up! Listen to me, not whoever is in your head. I need you here with me now. Wake up.”

Samuel had not realized he was shouting until Edward burst into the room. “What the heck are you doing, Samuel? Why are you shouting?”

Samuel turned toward Edward, and Edward was shocked by the fear he saw in those golden eyes. In six years, he had never seen Samuel frightened, or even concerned, about anything except Mae.

“Do something, Edward! Make her wake up, please.”

Edward was humbled that this extraordinary man, this hero to every female in the county, would be begging him to do something. He put his arm around Samuel’s shoulder.

“Samuel, take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s good. Now, it is not I you should be pleading with.”

Edward could see that it took all of thirty seconds for the answer to come to him, and that delay was probably because of the drugs still in his system.

Samuel turned to the bed, sat in the chair, and took Kathleen’s hand in his.

Edward could hear him praying as he slipped back out the door.