A Convenient Wife (19 page)

It was enough. The baby was active. As for the woman he held, she had collapsed into a small heap of dark dress and long, tangled hair as he approached. Al Shrader had signaled his intent, leaping from his horse to lift her into Win's arms.

“Here, Doc.” His muscular build had made it simple, lifting the woman to lie across Win's lap, then his hands had gathered the long length of dark hair and bundled it under her head. “I'll get my bedroll,” he'd said gruffly and in moments had wrapped the rough fabric around Ellie's limp form.

Now they headed for town, James and Win riding abreast, George and his ranch hands on their way back to the Mitchum place. “George's going to appear before the judge,” James said, breaking the silence. “I'm going to charge him with kidnapping.”

“Will he go to jail?” Win asked the question, but his heart wasn't in it. Ellie was safe, and in his arms. His anger at George had been put into the back of his mind, once his hands had touched her, once his mouth had brushed against her forehead. Now his concern was that she be put to bed, where he could treat her. The heat from her body radiated to his own flesh, his legs and chest warmed from the fever that claimed her.

She coughed and the rattle in her lungs sent shards of fear through him. Pneumonia was almost certain. Pleurisy would complicate things, and surely she would need every ounce of strength she possessed to fight the fever. He clutched her closer and she moaned, her whisper calling his name.

“I'm here, sweetheart,” he said, bending to press his lips against her temple.

“Thirsty,” she murmured, restless now in his arms.

“You got a canteen, James?” He should have brought his bag along, he thought, but even that didn't hold a container
of water. Besides, his instincts already knew her condition. The stethoscope wouldn't tell him anything he didn't already surmise.

“Yeah.” James loosened the thong holding his canteen to the saddle horn and reached to place it in Win's outstretched hand. They slowed their horses by mutual consent and Win lifted Ellie's head a bit, loosening the canteen lid with his teeth, then tilting a bit of water onto her lips. She swallowed and licked at her lips.

“More,” she whispered, her eyelids fluttering.

Win brought his horse to a halt, his left hand controlling the reins. He shifted Ellie in his arms and offered the canteen again. She drank, long, deep swallows, then shook her head and sighed. He handed it back to James, along with the cap, and bent low to whisper his wife's name.

“Ellie? Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

She nodded, just a faint movement of her head, and her voice sounded raw, rough and harsh. “I knew you'd find me, Win. I prayed.”

“So did I, honey,” he told her, rearranging her in his embrace. “We're on our way home. I'll take care of you.”

“My father.” The two words were barely audible.

“I know,” Win said quickly. “I know what happened, honey. Al told us. He felt bad that you'd gotten away. He was afraid he'd be responsible if something happened to you.”

“No.” She shook her head, a minute movement, as if she would deny Al Shrader's blame.

“Hush, honey,” Win said. “We'll be home in no time.” And she relaxed against him, her breathing harsh now, her body burning with fever.

 

“Let me take a turn, Doc.” Ethel placed her hand on Win's shoulder, and he shook his head.

“Thanks, Ethel,” he said, “but I can't leave her.” His big hands plunged the cloth into a basin again and he squeezed
the fabric, then placed it on Ellie's forehead. A small towel lay in the basin and he wrung that out, then wiped her slender arms with its rough texture.

She was so warm, so feverish, he despaired of an end to the watch he'd taken upon himself. That Ethel would be vigilant, that her hands could tend to Ellie as well as his own, was a given. But, walking from this room was not possible. Hovering over his head was the fear that she might slip from him, that her illness might take a final toll if he should look aside, even for a moment.

And so he lingered, dozing fitfully for long minutes at a time, only to rouse with a jolt and bend once more to his task. He exposed her legs, lifting the gown to her knees, and washed the blotched skin with the towel, worried by the heat that rose from her fevered flesh. For those few seconds she was cooled, and her skin was pale, until the fever returned in full force, and her body lay lax and limp before him.

“Let me bring you something to eat, Doc,” Ethel coaxed, kneeling beside the bed, taking Ellie's hand in hers. She bent her head to kiss the slender fingers, and a tear fell against the palm. “She's such a sweetie, Doc. This just isn't fair, that she should be so sick.” She looked up at Win. “Do you suppose the baby is safe?”

He nodded. “It's past the point of formation a long time ago. Now, he's just growing, sapping Ellie's strength with his demands on her system. Babies are selfish little creatures, Ethel. They don't care about anything but the nourishment they require to live and grow. We need to control the fever if we can. That's our worry now, so that the baby won't be harmed.”

“You need to eat, Doc. I've made some good soup, killed one of my laying hens this morning.”

“I appreciate that,” Win told her, tearing his gaze from Ellie to focus on his neighbor. “I never did ask you about Mary Beth's baby.”

Ethel laughed softly. “She's fine. That little girl just squirted right out into my hands, like she'd been waiting for me to walk in the room. Mary Beth laughed at the look on my face. I had her all cleaned up in no time, and when I left she was nursing real good. I looked over the afterbirth, and it was all there.”

Win nodded. “I appreciate your help. I figured it would be an easy birth. And from what I've heard, you're pretty good at it.”

“So long as it all goes according to plan, I do just fine,” Ethel said. She bent her gaze on Ellie again. “I'm anxious for this one to come to term. I'd like to be here to help you, Doc. She's a fine girl.” Her eyes met his and her smile trembled. “You think she's gonna be all right?”

He nodded wearily. “I have to believe that, Ethel. It's all I've got to lean on right now.”

“The folks over at the church have got a prayer vigil going on for Ellie. They've been taking turns at the altar since yesterday afternoon when you rode in with her. There's a couple of the ladies who had something to say when you married Ellie, and they're right there with the rest of them, taking a shift, even during the night hours.”

“I'll never be able to thank folks enough,” Win whispered. “Now, if their prayers are answered, I'll be forever grateful.”

“I'm prayin', too,” Ethel said gruffly. “Even when I was stirrin' the soup. I figure when she wakes up enough, we'll need to have something ready for her to eat. She's lookin' scrawny already, like she's been doin' without food.”

“I don't think she's eaten since she was taken from here. Maybe something that night at her father's place, but then she was hauled out to a line shack for a day and a half before she got away. I suppose there was food of sorts there, but she's looking peaked, all right.”

His hand measured her cheek, and he felt and saw new hollows where there had never been any sign of laxness in her
flesh before. Her hands were fragile seeming, her nails holding a bluish tinge. “She's had a hard time breathing today,” Win said. “I've propped her up to help a little, and I was thinking to set up a pan of water, so the steam would ease her lungs.”

Ethel stood quickly. “I can do that, Doc. I'll bring a wide basin in and add boiling water every so often to keep the steam rising. We'll just empty it when it fills up and start over.” As if she were pleased to have a task assigned, she hurried from the room and Win bent his head, his hands holding one of Ellie's in his clasp.

Her fingers twitched, then stilled, and he opened his eyes, shaking his head. He'd dozed off for a moment, and yet… Her fingers twitched again and he inhaled sharply. “Ellie? Are you awake?”

Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned, a soft sound of distress that tore at his heart. “Win? Where are you?” Her eyes opened, the soft brown gaze meeting his, and he felt tears spring to blur his vision.

“I'm here, honey. I'm right here.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the hot skin. “Are you in pain?”

She looked puzzled and then shook her head. “No. Just so hot, Win. My mouth is dry.”

He lifted her and offered water from a glass he'd had ready. She sipped, swallowed and gasped. “Hurts to swallow,” she whimpered, but opened her mouth for more of the cool water.

“Drink as much as you can,” he told her. “The fever has dehydrated you, Ellie. You need all the fluid we can get into you.”

She nodded, wincing as the water slid down her throat. “Baby?” She murmured the single word, but it spoke volumes to his ears.

“The baby's fine,” he assured her. “The heartbeat is strong, and he's been moving a lot.”

“She.” It was a soft whisper, but his lips curved in a smile at its message.

“You think you're going to have a girl?” he asked, his words teasing.

She nodded. “All right?”

Did he mind? “As long as you're healthy, I don't care what it is, Ellie,” he told her firmly. He held the glass up to her mouth again and she obligingly swallowed, then turned away.

“Enough.” She relaxed against his forearm and he bent over her, his embrace loose. The need to hold her went far beyond the urges of his body. She was precious to him, this slender waif he'd married. His very being yearned to come to her aid, to give her his own strength, to spread arms of comfort around her and infuse her with healing.

“I love you, Ellie.” He'd waited too long to speak the words, but they begged utterance, and he repeated them again. “I love you, sweetheart. Can you hear me?”

Her lids fluttered open again, and a wistful smile curved her lips. “Really, Win? Do you really?” As though speaking those few words took every ounce of strength she possessed, her eyes closed again, and she was limp against him.

“Oh, God, Ellie. I've said every prayer I know, and made every promise in the book, if only you'll get better. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart.”

She sighed, nestling closer, and he lifted her, quilt and all, to hold her in his arms. His head bent and he placed his face against hers, then stilled as he became aware of dampness against his skin. Perspiration beaded her brow, and Win picked up the towel to wipe it from her flesh.

“Win?” A masculine voice caught his attention and he laid the towel aside.

“I think her fever just broke,” he said, looking toward the doorway as James cleared his throat. “Now, we have to watch for chills.”

“How's she doing? Kate sent me over.”

“This is the first she's been awake,” Win said. “And she's lucid. But there's a lot of congestion. I'm going to have Ethel make up a mustard plaster to put on her chest.”

“Let me pass, Sheriff.” Ethel was behind James, and he stepped inside the room as she entered, a large pan of steaming water in her hands. It was heavy, and she carried it with care, depositing it on the floor on the far side of the bed. “I'll make a tent with sheets,” she offered. “Thought I'd bring in a couple of chairs and sort of aim the steam in Ellie's direction.”

“I'll help,” Win said. “She needs to be closer to the steam anyway.” He bent to place her in the middle of the bed, covering her with the sheet and light quilt. She opened her eyes again and smiled, then inhaled, coughing harshly. “I want you to lay on your side, facing the steam, Ellie,” Win told her. He propped a pillow behind her back and she did as he asked, breathing heavily.

Within minutes, they'd formed the makeshift tent, and Win settled down to watch. “I'll bring some soup in a while,” Ethel told him, and he nodded. Footsteps alerted him as James came closer, but his gaze was unmoving, and only the pressure of the sheriff's hand on his shoulder told him of the man's presence.

And then he was alone with Ellie, his breathing matching hers, his mind racing as he sorted mentally through his medicine, deciding on the best course to take.

 

The steam helped to ease her breathing. Ethel sliced onions thinly, and brought in a dish filled with the pungent vegetable, then dumped them in the water. “That'll make her breathing even better,” she told Win. For hours she carried one panful after another of steaming water to keep the moisture rising.

Win coaxed Ellie to drink, offering the water he knew would be soaked up by her dehydrated body, water the child she carried would use with no care for the woman whose blood held the nutrients needed to sustain life.

At dark, Win lifted Ellie again in his arms and coaxed her to sip small amounts of broth from a spoon. Ethel had cut up the noodles, making it easier for Ellie to swallow them. It was an effort, but as though she recognized Win's concern, she accepted the spoon he offered and swallowed the warm broth, persisting until her eyes closed and she could no longer stay awake.

She slept then, and Win edged her over, lying on top of the quilt behind her. It was late in the night when she woke him, her body shivering, her teeth chattering and he rose quickly. Stripping from his outer clothing, he slid between the sheets and gathered her close, warming her with his own body's heat. The quilt was warm, and Ethel had built up the fire in the kitchen, allowing the heat to pour through the rest of the house.

Yet, Ellie trembled with the dreadful chills that would not release her body from their frigid tentacles. The sun was rising as she shivered for the final time, and settled in his embrace, relaxing against his warmth. He rose to pull on his trousers, wanting to be prepared should he need to call Ethel for help.