One True Love (13 page)

With a simple sigh, the woman closed her eyes and stepped to the beyond.

Stoic now, the son gently placed her hands together and rested his face on her chest, shoulders heaving.

After a moment, he rose. “I may take my mother's body?”

Josh nodded. “I'll help you.”

“No. I will carry my mother.” He collected a small bundle of her clothes and a leather medicine sack. Then he wrapped her snugly in a warm blanket, scooped her into his arms, and carried her out the charred window. He laid her across his pony in front of him and climbed onto its back. Reining the animal, the son met Redlin's gaze. “Thank you, Josh Redlin.”

Josh nodded. “Go in peace.”

The Indian walked his animal to the gate and then rode off.

Copper swiped at her eyes. “What was that all about? Why did he take her out of the window?”

“It's the Kiowa way. By taking her out of the window he hopes to keep her soul from returning to this place.”

“Where will he take her?”

“Somewhere in the hills. He'll find a rocky crevice and bury her there.”

Josh nodded to Sadie and Copper. “Ladies. It's very late. You should be in bed.”

Sadie rode Copper's horse, and Copper rode behind Josh as they returned to the camp. Copper considered all the unique days in her life, but this one had to be the most distinctive. Today she had learned what it was to truly be Christ-like.

Tonight had brought God home in a way she would never forget. How could she ever fully understand the blending of religions and culture that formed the beliefs of this Kiowa brave?

 

Dr. Dyson's sudden resurrection appeared even more promising by daybreak. He asked for bacon and eggs. When told of
the progress, Josh once again delayed departure until noon. By late morning, Dyson ordered Redlin to bring the woman with the wounded ankle to him. Shortly afterward, Copper sat down in Adele's rocking chair, and Dyson had his first look at her injury.

His eyes told the story, but he didn't immediately seal her doom. “It's bad.”

Copper released a pent-up sigh. She'd traveled all this way to have him tell her what she already knew? “Then you can't do anything?”

“Even if I could work a miracle, I don't have my instruments.”

An explanation wasn't needed; everyone who gathered in Adele's wagon knew the reason for the doctor's dilemma. The savages had destroyed or taken everything.

Josh shifted. “If we could provide what you need, or at least some of it, could you help?”

The doctor's hand visibly shook when he gently probed the injury. He confirmed what Copper had feared. “The damage has started to mend.” Then he spoke softly, more to himself than to the others. “I don't know.” He paused and dropped his face into his hands. “I just don't know.”

Those gathered waited until he regained his composure. Finally he looked up. “Look at my hands; they're shaking like a leaf in a storm. Even if I decide to operate, I can't do it without a drink.”

Copper glanced at Josh and he shook his head. The man had come too far down the road of sobriety to be allowed to go back to the bottle.

The wagon master shook his head. “We don't have liquor.”

“I need a drink,” the doctor contended. He held out his
hands. “Look at these. Under ideal conditions I would operate, but not like this.”

“Give him a drink,” Sadie implored.

Josh shook his head. “It isn't a matter of judgment. I've checked. There's no liquor in camp. We didn't have much, and the emotional toll of what the men have seen since we got here has depleted the supply.”

“Don't give me that,” Dyson scoffed. “Every train carries a supply.”

“Not this one. Not until we pass a town where we can replenish our stock.”

Strained silence filled the wagon. Finally the doctor surrendered. From some deep reservoir of humanity, compassion, and medical training came the decision. “I'll do what I can.”

The entire group let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. Copper dropped her face in her hands and tried to absorb the meaning of the reprieve, however tentative. Josh's fingers pressed into her shoulder. “Tell me what you need.”

“I'll need light, all the light possible.” Dyson listed additional items and Josh nodded.

Pandemonium erupted as the order went out for makeshift medical implements.

Adele set water to boil, then stripped the pallet and put on clean sheets while Sadie washed and prepared Copper's leg for surgery.

Dr. Dyson stood in the bed of the wagon, watching the assembly.

“You've lost your faith, haven't you?” Copper spoke softly from her place in the wagon. Somehow she sensed that pious platitudes were the last thing the man needed.

He mutely shook his head. She wasn't sure if he was disagreeing or simply couldn't face his conclusions.

As the implements were gathered, Josh stepped inside the wagon. He knelt before Copper, who sat in the rocker. “This is the big moment.”

“The biggest,” she said. “Hope is a wonderful thing.”

He nodded, his eyes lending her much-needed strength.

“The train must leave early morning. We can't delay any longer. Weather's going to be closing in on us.”

She frowned. “You're leaving me?”

“Richardson's taking the wagons ahead. I'll catch up in a few days.”

She smiled. “Then Mike won't be taking me back?”

“No, I'll be taking you back.”

“Are you ready, Miss Wilson?” Dr. Dyson's voice broke into her sudden giddiness. Josh was staying behind to be with her. She was up to any challenge.

They moved her pallet to the back of the wagon, where the late afternoon sun would give the best light. Then Copper moved from her rocker to the pallet that would serve as an operating table.

Dr. Dyson picked up a knife, held the instrument to the light, and then dipped the blade in a pan of steaming water. “If you haven't got the stomach for this, Redlin, you best step way back.”

Josh nodded. “I'll be close.”

Adele stood at Copper's head, ready to keep her firmly in place. Josh bent and kissed Copper, then straightened and moved away. His eyes met the doctor's. “How long?”

Dyson shook his head. “As long as it takes.”

Nodding, he walked a distance away and stood.

The doctor's eyes met Copper's, and she saw both doubt and resolve there. He squeezed some laudanum into her mouth.

“I'm sorry, but this won't be enough to kill all the pain. It is the best we have. Even a simple whiskey would help me, but if we're to believe Redlin, there is none available. I had a small supply of opium but the Kiowa took it.”

She nodded. “If there were whiskey available I'd let you have it. Honest. I'm strong. I can take anything.” She flashed a smile, wishing she really felt as strong as she was trying to sound. “I can endure the surgery if you can make me walk again.”

“My good lady. I am not your Maker.”

“No…of course not. I just wanted you to know you don't have to worry about me screaming or anything. I won't. I'm strong.”

“Mmm. Yes, well, let's get started.”

He inclined his head to Adele. The last thing Copper remembered was Dyson's grim invocation. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

J
osh Redlin's face, then Adele's studious expression. Then Josh again. Faces drifted in and out of Copper's wavering sight.

“Come on, honey. Wake up.”

She didn't want to wake up; she preferred to stay in the blissful black void. Still, Sadie's anxious whispers penetrated her desire to remain in the nothingness.

“The Almighty was merciful. The poor thing couldn't have made it through the surgery without his intervening.”

“Aye,” Adele murmured. “With only that little bit of medicine, the fainting was the best thing that could've happened to her.”

Faint? Had she fainted?
When she'd vowed to be so wholly courageous?

Sadie and Adele spoke in unison.

“How is she, Doctor?”

“Were you able to help her?”

Then Josh's tense voice. “Copper? Can you hear me?”

Dr. Dyson's voice penetrated the fog. “Folks, I'd like a word alone with Miss Wilson.”

The two women clucked and cooed to the patient but obediently drifted away. She felt Josh's presence remain. “Mr. Redlin?”

Head clearing, Copper gritted her teeth against the white-hot pain that was radiating up her leg from her ankle. “He can stay.” She reached for his hand.

“Miss Wilson, you might want to hear what I have to say in private.”

“No.” Copper swallowed against a dry throat. “He can hear anything you have to tell me.”

The doctor washed his hands in the water basin. “If that's what you want.”

Josh moved closer, his eyes pools of concern.

Dropping into the rocker, the doctor rubbed his temples. “I fear I could do little to help.”

Copper thought the words would bring even more agony, but oddly enough, the diagnosis brought peace. She had done all that was possible to avert this moment, and God's answer was “No.” Josh squeezed her hand.

“I may have helped somewhat,” Dyson corrected. “The way the ankle was you would have been consigned to a crutch for the rest of your life. Now, with God's grace, when the incision heals the ankle will be as strong as it is ever going to get. But I can't predict how good that will be.”

Copper noticed that the doctor now spoke of God's mercy. Perhaps he would heal too. “I may not have to use a crutch?”

“We won't know for a few weeks, but I believe I was able
to set the bone so that only a slight limp, if anything, will hinder you.” He rested his head on the back of the rocker, staring at the roof of the wagon. “I wish I could have done more, but you're fortunate the bone didn't break the skin. You would have lost the foot.”

Josh's hand tightened in hers when she spoke. “Thank you, Doctor. The assessment is far better than I had feared.”

She might have a limp for the rest of her life…but there was still a touch of hope. Copper closed her eyes.

“I'll get you a cup of coffee, Doctor.” Josh left the wagon and the doctor remained in the rocker, eyes closed. His gray features were drained. Copper reached over and took his hand and held it.

Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.

“Can you talk about it yet?” she asked softly. For the man bore an unspeakable weight. Perhaps if he spoke of his great loss he would be able to go on and eventually find his purpose again. And she welcomed the opportunity to think about something other than her pain.

He was silent for so long she thought he'd rejected her invitation. She tightened her hold on his hand, a surgeon's hand. She wanted to wipe away the tears that coursed down his weathered features. She tried willing him to speak, shutting out her hurt. His face contorted, and he said, “Did Redlin tell you where he found me?”

“In your office?”

His mirthless laugh stunned her. “In the root cellar. He was good enough to cover for me that day.”

“Root cellar?”

“Drunk. While my wife and child were being slaughtered, I laid in the root cellar drunk, swigging gin.” The enormity of
his admission stunned her. He was opening his soul to her. A part of her didn't want to hear any more, but the words came out, one upon one, hopeless admissions.

“Word was the Kiowa were on the prowl and everyone was uneasy, perhaps even frightened. Mary, my youngest daughter, had been poorly for several days. Then the day before the raid she died. She was only two years old. She had the same big brown eyes and dark brown hair of her mother. I don't know what happened. Within two days she went from being tired and having a low fever to death. I should have been able to do something. I should have saved her. I'm a doctor and I couldn't keep my own daughter from dying.

“It hit me hard. My wife never said it was my fault, but I could see in her eyes that she felt that I could have done something, something beyond my ability.” He opened his eyes and met hers. “Mary died about dawn and we buried her that afternoon. I sought release the only way I knew how: in the bottle. After the funeral I grabbed all the whiskey I could carry and headed for the root cellar. I couldn't face my wife and I couldn't bear to look at Sally, my other daughter. By dusk I was in a stupor.

“The Kiowa hit us the next day, but I was totally unaware of it until it was over. Miss Wilson, I'm not proud of my actions, but sometimes a man copes the best he knows how, and gin was the only way I could face life that day. That's where your Redlin found me. During the battle I was drunk, oblivious to what was going on above me. That's the only reason my life was spared. Those redskins didn't think to look for a drunken doctor lying in the darkest corner of the root cellar.” His features crumpled and he broke, his shoul
ders heaving with such grief, Copper feared he might never regain composure. She was so taken aback by the horror, she couldn't find words. For the remainder of his life, this was the knowledge this man would carry.

Heaving with emotion, his voice came through sobs. “I don't want to live anymore. I've had a drinking problem for many years. Ginny hated it. When she could, she'd steal my bottles and pour them onto the ground, but I'd just get another from one of the men.” He shook his head. “Why did you bring me back? Is this my punishment, to live with this nightmare the rest of my days? I lost the woman I love and two precious daughters because of the bottle. I should have been up here fighting for my family, for my company. Instead I was drowning my weaknesses in a bottle of whiskey.”

By now Josh stood in the doorway holding a cup of steaming coffee. He'd heard most of the confession. What must a man with Redlin's grit think of such an act?

Coward. The offensive tag didn't fit Dale Dyson. A coward didn't drag himself from self-pity and remorse to make an effort to possibly save a young woman from becoming a cripple when all he wanted to do was die. Yet Copper well understood the man's agony. He had succumbed to human frailty while his family fought for their lives. How could he ever forgive himself?

Josh moved to put the cup of coffee in Dyson's hand. The doctor stared at the contents, obviously reliving that tragic day.

“I didn't hear a thing. Not one gunshot. That night I staggered out of the cellar intent on cleaning up and going home to a hot supper, and then I saw—” He broke off. “I found my
wife and daughter and buried them next to Mary. Then I returned to the cellar, and I don't remember anything until you found me, Redlin. No, that's not true. At one point I tried to take my life; I recall making a noose. I looked for a gun, but all I found was a piece of rope. It was so old and my fingers were so stiff that I couldn't get it tied so that it would hold my weight. I couldn't even take my life. I'm not a man; I'm a disgrace.”

During his confession, Josh remained silent. Now he said quietly, “A man isn't measured by his acts; he's measured by the Creator.”

“What kind of Creator would allow a man to do what I did?”

“God's ways are sometimes mysterious. You are certainly not the first man to fail in a crisis. The apostle Peter comes to mind.”

Dyson stared at his coffee. “You don't know, Redlin. You can't know what it's like to lose everything you love and know that you might have been able to prevent their deaths.”

“A lot of lives were lost in that attack. If you had been seen, you would have suffered the same fate.”

Dyson's features crumpled. “Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I wish it had happened that way? My prayer is that God will take me today, rather than let me stay in this…this…hell that I'm in now.”

Redlin met the doctor's eyes. “Every man has a purpose. Who knows your purpose, but it wasn't your time the day of the attack.”

“If nothing more, you were spared to prevent me from using a crutch the rest of my life,” Copper reasoned.

“Words. Nothing but words.” Dyson spat them rather than
said them. He set the cup beside the rocker. “I'll never take another breath that I don't remember what I've done to my wife and children. I have no right to be here, no right at all, and I curse the day you people brought me back to face my disgrace.”

He stood up, swaying with fatigue. “Stay off the foot completely, Miss Wilson.”

“How long?”

“Six weeks at least. Then have a doctor check the results. He may want you off the ankle longer. Do what he says.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He dismissed her gratitude with a shake of his head. “There's still a chance of infection from the surgery, but the wound is clean. I wish I'd had whiskey for more than one reason, but you shouldn't have any trouble.” He turned and left the wagon.

Josh bent to kiss Copper. Their eyes met and he smiled. “Get some sleep. We have had better news than we feared.”

“Thank you for staying with me.” She gently reached to touch the tip of his nose. “You give me comfort.”

The expression in his eyes told her they both gave each other something; something both needed. She was becoming important to him. That was the greatest gift of this day.

Their gazes held, she drinking in his strength. “My heart goes out to Dr. Dyson. Can you imagine carrying such a burden?”

“I know that man is often tested far beyond what he believes that he can stand. But he goes on.” His eyes turned distant, as though he was recalling his trials. “Somehow, he goes on. Dyson will make it, but his life will never be the same.” He straightened. “I'll be back shortly. I want
to speak to Dyson alone.” A man-to-man thing. Copper hoped that in some measure, Josh would be able to help the doctor.

Later Adele and Sadie sat with her for a while, and then the doctor returned to sleep in the rocker by her side.

Copper heard the camp settling for the night. A light wind ruffled the canvas. She knew the doctor, though weary, couldn't rest. His heart was with the occupants of three shallow graves that lay within the fort, and the many others surrounding them.

“You can't blame yourself.” She spoke into the darkness, not even sure that he heard her. “We're all imperfect beings.”

How many times had she recklessly done things for which, but for the mercy of God, she would have paid a tremendous penalty? The doctor's voice broke into her thoughts. “Do you ever wonder why God does what he does?”

She smiled into the darkness. “Every day.”

“Nothing makes sense, you know.”

“Is it supposed to?”

He didn't answer, and she let him come to his conclusions. She wasn't a theologian. She could barely remember the Scripture she'd learned over the years, but its meaning was etched in her heart, and the way she had it figured, a body had two choices: believe in a higher source, or not believe in anything.

Two choices. Even odds on getting the meaning of life right. She saw a higher source when she looked at the stars as numerous as Abraham's descendants. She understood that new life was resurrected every spring in the trees, bushes, and grass. She chose trust and belief.

She could be wrong.

Then again, she could be right.

Perfect peace or imperfect turmoil. The choice was a stark one, with no ground in between. She prayed the good doctor would reach the same conclusion, for without personal peace life didn't make a lick of sense.

 

By seven forty-five the following morning the wagons were hitched and ready to roll. Saying good-bye to Adele and Sadie was harder than Copper had imagined.

Adele bent and hugged Copper, who had been transferred to a pallet next to the fire. Josh, the doctor, and Copper would remain another day, and then Josh would return Copper to Thunder Ridge before he rejoined the train somewhere on down the trail.

“This don't mean we can't write.” The older woman sniffed. “I expect to hear from you once a month, and you say hello to Willow and Audrey. I want to hear from them too.”

Sadie squeezed between the fire and Adele. “Same goes for me.”

“I promise.” Copper bit back tears, determined to keep this parting on a happy note. They'd come a long way together, sacrificed much, and tolerated even more. This should be a time of celebration, though the wagon train would face many more hardships before they reached Colorado Springs. Copper only had five, possibly six days' ride, and she would be home. Home! Thunder Ridge or Beeder's Cove? It really didn't matter as long as it was close to Audrey and Willow.

If she was lucky, Beeder's Cove school board would hold the teaching position until next fall. Whoever had filled in during her absence would maybe be moved to Blackberry Hill. By then her injury should be completely healed.

Redlin called from the distance. “It's time, ladies.” In the background, Richardson's “Wagons roll!” filtered down the line of waiting rigs.

One last hug, and Sadie and Adele said good-bye. Copper knew most likely she'd never see the two wonderful souls again this side of heaven. Colorado Springs was a long way from Beeder's Cove.

The last wagon rumbled off and faded into the distance. Copper listened to the men's whistles controlling the stock, the protesting of the cows, and the squeak of wagon wheels. She realized she was blinking back tears.