Waiting for Morning (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) (30 page)

D
uring the next week Molly tried her best to avoid Caleb. It was easier that way. His presence only confused her, made her want things she had no business wanting. Made
her ache inside.

Riding always cleared her mind and she talked Brodie into letting her take an appaloosa for its first ride outside the corral. The horse’s name was Big Spot. A mild-mannered horse, he was brown all over except for a white spot that looked like someone had splashed whitewash on his back.

Brodie cautioned her to take it slow and not try anything fancy. “You gotta watch these well-mannered horses, especially when they insist upon letting you go over a fence first.”

Big Spot did no such thing and Molly put the horse through his paces with no trouble. She took her time heading back to the ranch. It was hot but a slight breeze cooled her flushed face.

Spotting Caleb sitting atop the corral fence waiting for her, she reined in the horse abruptly. Apparently he had no intention of giving up. Avoiding him only postponed the inevitable. Bracing herself with a deep breath, she pressed her legs against Big Spot’s sides and the horse trotted toward the barn.

Caleb waited for her to unsaddle the horse and lead him to pasture before pulling away from the fence. He stopped behind her, his shadow closing the distance between them.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She pretended to play with the gate catch and said nothing. In the adjacent corral, Orbit hung his head over the fence to nuzzle Magic. Orbit whickered, Magic barked, and the two took off, romping alongside the fence. Even as she watched she felt the heat of Caleb’s gaze.

“And now you won’t even look at me,” he said at last.

She turned to face him. Big mistake. “About the other night. You were right. It did help to talk to someone.”
To talk to you.

“I’ll always be here to listen, if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was all she could have. Silence stretched between them before she trusted herself to speak enough to change the subject. “How . . . how is the little patient you told me about?”

He grimaced as if in pain and she longed to hold him as he held her on that memorable moonlit night.

“Not well.”

Studying him, she thought of all the negative prognoses she’d received on Donny’s condition. She felt sure that Caleb would never be distant and cold to his patients as Donny’s doctors had seemed to her. Yet how could a doctor survive otherwise?

“I’m praying for him,” she said. “And I’m praying for you too.”

He nodded. “Right now I can use all the prayers I can get.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re a good friend, Caleb. I never told anyone else what happened. Only you.”

A muscle quivered at his jaw but thankfully he kept his distance. “That’s a big burden to carry around.”

“Yes, it is. I—” She glanced around. Where was Brodie when she needed him? “I better get back to work.”

“Are we not going to talk about it?” He took a step forward. “Are we not going to talk about what happened the other night?”

She backed away. She didn’t want to think about the other night, but the truth was she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. “Nothing can come of it. I have Donny to think about.”

“And I have a new practice.”

“I guess that’s the answer, then.” She looked away. “Neither of us can afford to be distracted.”

“Drat, Molly! Why are you making things so difficult?”

She stared up at him. “You’re the one making things difficult. My life is the ranch now and I can’t think of anything else.”

He grabbed her by the wrist, startling her. “Because I can’t give you what you have here?”

“This ranch is Donny’s security. He’ll never want for a thing. He’ll always have a home.”

“He’ll always have a home with me.” Caleb released her. “You both will. That is, if you will have me.”

She stared at him. “You . . . you can’t mean that.”

“I mean it,” he said.

Momentarily speechless, she shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re saying. After my brother’s accident my parents . . . it broke them apart. Things were never the same between them.”

Many were the nights she huddled beneath a blanket and tried to drown out their angry voices. “The strain of caring for Donny was too much for them. It’s too much for most everyone. That’s why so many people like Donny end up in asylums or begging on the street.”

“Molly,” he said, gently but firmly, as if to draw her thoughts out
of the pocket of hurt she carried inside. “I’m a doctor. I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Do you? Do you really know? You see Donny a few hours a week. That’s not the same as living with him day in and day out.”

“Then let me learn firsthand what it’s like to live with him.”

“What?”

He laid his hands on her shoulders. “Let him come and stay with me. Give me a week to see what it’s really like.”

Stunned by this proposal, she had a hard time finding her voice. “That’s . . . a ridiculous idea. You could never . . . your work as a doctor . . .”

“If I can’t manage for a week, then I have no right to ask for anything more.”

She shook her head and he dropped his arms to his sides.

“Unless,” he said, “there’s another reason you won’t let me help. The other night . . . you said you would never forgive yourself.”

“How can I?”

“So you’re punishing yourself by pushing me away.”

“That’s not true.” She wasn’t punishing herself, was she? There he went again, confusing her, making her doubt her own motives. “It’s all about Donny,” she whispered. “It will always be about Donny.”

That was only half of it; she wanted to protect Caleb as much as Donny, protect the fragile stirrings of love she felt for this man.

She’d watched her parents’ affection shrivel up and die. She saw what it did to her father, the nights he stumbled home and collapsed in an alcoholic stupor. Saw what it did to her mother, the bitterness and withdrawal. Looking back at her parents, she saw the future, saw what would happen if she and Caleb were to marry. It nearly broke her heart. She couldn’t do that to him. To the two of them. Wouldn’t.

He stepped back, his expression hard as stone. “I can tear down most of the barriers you keep putting between us. But your guilt . . . I don’t know that I can fight that. I don’t know that any man can.”

He spun around and walked away. She watched him go until blinded by tears.

Chapter 28

M
olly kneeled in front of the wheelchair and pulled off Donny’s shoe, her mind a thousand miles away.
“He’ll always have a home with me. You both will.”

“Molly!”

She jumped. “Why are you yelling?” She started on his other shoe.

Donny gave her an accusatory look. “Because you’re not listening to me.”

“I
am
listening to you.” She stood and rustled through a bureau drawer for his nightclothes. “You asked me . . .” Her mind drew a blank.

“Told you so,” he said, frowning. He repeated the question. “Why are Hereford cattle more profitable than Longhorns?”

“Because they have shorter horns,” she said, purposely giving him a wrong answer.

He made a face. “Come on, Molly. You gotta learn this stuff.”

She flung his nightclothes on the bed and sat, arms folded. “I don’t want to know about cattle. I hate them. They’re smelly and dumb, and I’d much rather work with horses.” She dreaded riding the range and rounding up cattle, hated even the thought of branding them.

Donny frowned. “You better not let Miss Walker hear you say
that.” He inched his wheelchair closer to her. “When you take over the ranch I’ll help you, Molly, I promise.”

“When I take over?” He made it sound so simple. “And how do you propose to help me?”

“You’re terrible with numbers, so I’ll handle the books. I’ll also negotiate with cattle buyers. All you’ll have to do is tell the ranch hands what to do.”

His enthusiasm made her smile. Never had she known him to sound so positive about the future and it did her heart good. “You have it all planned, don’t you?”

He tapped his finger on his book. “Now will you settle down and learn this stuff?”

She stretched out on the bed and raised herself on her elbow. “Hereford cattle are more profitable because they mature earlier than Longhorns.” Instead of satisfying him, her answer only seemed to encourage his questions and he continued to bombard her until her head felt ready to explode.

Caleb drove out to the old Madison place to check on a patient. Madison was a miner and sulfuric acid seeping from a silver mine had eaten away the flesh on his leg. After applying fresh bandages, Caleb headed for the Trotter place.

Jimmy and his family lived on a small farm a couple of miles north of town. He pulled in front of one of the few wood-framed houses in the area, scattering chickens in every direction, and turned off the motor. One of the Trotter girls walked out of the red barn carrying a bucket. She stopped in front of Bertha and stared at Caleb before hurrying to the house.

Jimmy’s father threw down his hoe and sauntered over to where Caleb parked. A grizzled man in denim overalls, his sunbaked flesh was carved by wind and sand. He spit out a wad of chewing tobacco before placing a calloused hand on Bertha’s frame and leaning over to look Caleb square in the face.

“The wife said Jimmy has some sort of cancer.”

Caleb recoiled inwardly at the man’s stale breath, a combination of tobacco and whiskey. “It’s called leukemia and I’ll do everything possible—”

“Jimmy’s my only boy.” Trotter pointed a finger at Caleb’s nose. “Don’t let anything happen to him, you hear!” He spun around and walked away.

Caleb watched until he vanished into the barn. Was that a plea from a worried father or a covert threat? It was hard to know. He jumped to the ground, grabbed his black case from the back of the car, and hastened to the house. Mrs. Trotter stood at the door waiting for him.

The front room was small and sparsely furnished with only a sagging leather divan and a cot stacked with folded clothes. Books were piled neatly in a corner and a hat rack stood guard by the door.

Jimmy looked less pale—a good sign. It indicated the medicine was working, but he still seemed lethargic and alarmingly thin.

Mrs. Trotter hovered nearby as Caleb examined him, wringing her hands. “He won’t eat.”

“Do you like ice cream?” Caleb asked.

Jimmy nodded.

“Miss Lily’s has the best ice cream you ever tasted.” Miss Lily ran the café located in the hotel. “Have your mother take you there and eat as much as you want.” He glanced up at Mrs. Trotter. “The treat’s on me.”

Moments later Mrs. Trotter walked him to the door. “Thank you.”

Caleb nodded. “I mean it about the ice cream. See if you can get some fat on those bones. The tonic should take care of nutrition.”

She followed him outside. “Doctor . . .” She hesitated. “My husband . . . he’s not taking this well. The day he found out about Jimmy’s illness, he drove to town and got drunk. The marshal has brought him home twice since.”

Caleb glanced at Trotter hoeing the ground with the same intent a man might use in digging a grave. “Would you like me to ask Reverend Bland to talk to him?”

Mrs. Trotter shook her head. “Harvey and the Lord haven’t seen eye to eye for a good many years. Not since his pa was killed in that awful war. If that wasn’t bad enough, his ma and two brothers died from malaria. I’m afraid he’s given up on God altogether.”

“That doesn’t mean God has given up on him.”

“But if he can’t even pray—”

Caleb patted her on the arm. “Then it’s up to us to pray for him.”

She looked up at him with liquid eyes. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Caleb walked to his car with a troubled mind and a heavy heart. It wasn’t just his conversation with Mrs. Trotter that had him worried. It was a nagging feeling that refused to go away.

Something didn’t set right. Jimmy’s lack of fever . . . was that it? Everyone reacted differently to disease, but everything he read listed fever as a symptom of leukemia. What if his diagnosis was wrong? What if it was something else?

He drove back to town so slowly that he stalled out twice. The second time he sat in the car, thinking. The wind had picked up and whirlwinds of sand cut across the desert floor and turned the sky gray. Magic held his face to the wind, fur ruffled and ears pinned back.