The doctor threaded a needle and began to work on the mother. After a while, when it was apparent that Maddie was not going to act of her own accord, he motioned to the chest of drawers with nod of his head. "You can clean up the baby."
Maddie chanced a glance at Lucy, whose face was so white it seemed she must be dead, or close to it. It was a shocking thought. Shaken, Maddie moved toward the dresser and lay the infant onto a clean flour sack.
The baby found her tiny fist and sucked. Watching her, Maddie fought back tears. "What a beautiful baby you are."
She rinsed a clean rag in a basin of water and gently washed away the blood and mucus. As she worked, she marveled at the tiny hands and feet, so perfectly shaped.
The infant sucked her little fist so furiously, Maddie was convinced that anyone with that much vigor had to be healthy. "And to think we worried about you surviving."
She dabbed the precious child dry with a clean towel, then wrapped her in a soft blanket. Lifting the baby in her arms, she turned to the small wooden cradle. She pressed her lips gently against the downy hair on the baby's head before lowering her onto the hay mattress with its cover of soft cotton ticking.
Feeling the strain of the last few hours, Maddie wiped her own heated face with a wet cloth. It was so hot and sticky, her clothes clung to her body.
Dr. Williams finished sewing the wound together and cut the sinew thread. He motioned to Maddie, who rushed to his side with a basin of clean water and fresh cloth.
The doctor squeezed the cloth with one hand, then wiped away the blood before covering the wound with a clean gauze. Maddie glanced worriedly at Lucy's face. She'd never seen anyone look so pale. "Is she going to be all right?"
"She should be. If no infection sets in."
Infection was the real enemy. Luke had been right to worry. Dr. Williams had done everything possible to make the environment sterile, but this was Kansas. They worked in cramped quarters with dusty canvas for walls. The very air was thick with dust.
The doctor dropped his scalpel and surgical scissors into the basin of bloodstained water. "I think you'd better go and find that man of hers."
Maddie checked the sleeping baby, then opened the flap of the tent. Not a bit of breeze stirred the air. "Doctor, I'm much obliged to you. If she lives, she owes it all to you."
Outside, Jamie and Caroline were lying in the shadow of the tent. Caroline sat up, her dark eyes huge with worry. "We heard a baby cry."
"You have a little baby sister," Maddie announced. "And she's beautiful."
Caroline clapped her hands in delight. "Can we see her? Please, please, please?"
"Of course you may see her, Caroline. But not yet. The baby is asleep."
Jamie tugged on Maddie's arm. "Is Mama…"
"Your mother's fine." Maddie gazed over Jamie's head. "Have you see your father?"
Jamie shook his head and tugged on his sister's hair. Caroline threw a blade of grass at him, and the two ran off in a merry chase.
Maddie left them to their game and borrowed one of the horses that was tethered nearby.
She rode the horse hard across the prairie in the direction Peter had gone. It wasn't difficult to follow the tiny round tracks left in the buffalo sod by his crutches.
She found him lying face down next to a trickle of water that had once been a creek. "Peter?"
When he didn't move or otherwise respond, she feared he'd fallen ill. She quickly dismounted and ran to him. "Peter?"
"She's dead, isn't she?" he moaned.
"No, Peter. She's going to be fine. Just as your little girl--" "It's a girl?" He sat up, revealing a face streaked with tears and dirt. "We had a baby girl?"
"Yes, and she's beautiful and healthy. No thanks, I might add, to you!"
Her angry voice didn't seem to register. He was almost childlike in the way he looked at her, and she suddenly had no heart to scold him.
"Lucy… Is she…?"
"She needs you, Peter. It's going to take time for her to recuperate."
He dipped his fingertips into the trickle of water and rubbed his face. "Luke is right, you know." He looked past her, to some distant place not visible to her. "Hardly anyone survives surgery. I saw countless men die in the war after having a limb cut off. The fact that I survived… I was one of the lucky few. No one expected me to live."
"Doctors know a lot more about what causes sepsis than they did during the war. I watched Dr. Williams, Peter. The man's a fanatic. He sterilized everything."
"You think Lucy'll be lucky like me? Is that what you're saying?"
"What I'm saying is that she'll have a lot better chance of survival with you by her side." She picked up a crutch that had been carelessly tossed aside. "Come on. I'll help you onto the horse."
Chapter 30
It was dark by the time Maddie returned home. She felt exhausted, drained. She wanted nothing more than to take a bath and collapse in bed.
Light shone from the window, but when Matthew failed to run out and greet her, as was his usual habit, she assumed he was asleep.
The look on Luke's face earlier still haunted her, as it had all day. She'd never known it possible to see so much pain and torment etched on a single face. He had shown genuine concern for Lucy's welfare. It was not the kind of look one would expect to see on the face of a cold-blooded murderer.
She knocked twice, and when there was no answer she turned the handle and opened the door. Matthew was sound asleep on the bed, just as she had supposed. She pushed the door open another notch. It sighed against its worn leather hinges.
Luke sat at the table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. In the flickering shadows of the room, his face looked dark, grim, almost demonic.
Swallowing hard, she stepped inside, closing the door softly so as not to awaken Matthew.
"Lucy had a healthy baby girl. Mother and baby are fine."
She waited for his reaction, but his expression never changed as he took another swallow of whiskey.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"You should feel proud of yourself."
"I'm relieved and happy." She pulled out a chair and sat opposite him. "You should have seen Peter when he held his baby for the first time. I've never seen a happier man."
She could tell by the absent look on Luke's face that her words didn't register. He appeared to be focused on the private demons that resided in that part of him that still remained a mystery to her.
He reached for the bottle and she stilled his hand, wrapping her fingers around his. Suddenly, his eyes cleared, and he peered at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"I tried to save her," he said, and his words sounded muffled.
She kept her voice low. "Who? Who did you try to save?"
"Catherine-Anne."
"Your wife? You tried to save your wife?"
As if he suddenly realized who and where he was, he shook his head and pulled back his hand. Elbows on the table, he rested his head in his hands. "I didn't know about surgical births. George was always trying out some newfangled idea."
"And you thought that when he tried to save your baby, he was experimenting."
"I don't know what I thought at the time. All I remember is walking through that door and seeing Catherine-Anne on the table. I never saw so much blood in my life."
Maddie closed her eyes to blot out the horror he described. "Where was the doctor?"
"I don't know. I still don't know why he left her alone. Even if she were dead, wasn't it his job to stay with her until I returned?"
"It would seem so. Where was Matthew?"He met her eyes, and for once the guarded look was gone.
"I had gone to Hays to arrange for the delivery of lumber.I thought it was time to build a proper house for my family. Catherine-Anne wasn't due for another two months. Matthew stayed home with his mother. He wasn't at the house when I arrived, and at the time I had no idea where he was. I went looking for him. Someone told me that George was at the saloon. He was there, all right. All I could think about was that he'd left my wife to die in her own blood and that my son was missing." He shook his head. "I don't remember the rest."
"How did you--"
"Murder him? They told me I did it with my bare hands."
"And you remember nothing?"
"I remember the anger and rage… God, Maddie! He left her. He left Catherine-Anne."
She squeezed his hand tight. "I know, Luke. I know."
"I remember feeling frantic at not knowing Matthew's whereabouts. I searched everywhere for him before finding George. After that…I don't know…I don't remember what happened next. Only what they told me."
"They?"
"The sheriff, the Eldridges, the townspeople. None of them saw me attack the doctor. But they saw the rage in me. Knew what I was capable of doing."
"Luke…" She drew his hand next to her cheek. "Isn't it possible that you never meant to kill the doctor?"
His gaze sharpened. "Don't, Maddie. Don't try to justify my actions with pretty words."
"I want to understand the truth, Luke. That's all. Just the truth."
"The truth is that George is dead because of my actions." Despite Luke's tragic loss, the townspeople's sympathies were with the doctor, who had been revered by locals as a miracle worker. Luke was but a stranger in these parts at the time--a man who refused to speak of his past. That fact alone made him suspect.
"If you really are a murderer, why weren't you arrested?"
"The sheriff said there wasn't enough evidence that I actually meant to kill the doctor. But that didn't change anyone's mind any. Then when a reporter from the
Colton Press
found out…" He stopped and took a mouthful of whiskey.
"Found out what?" she prompted.
"Never mind. It's not important."
She sensed that it was extremely important, but fearing he would clam up altogether if she forced the issue, she let it drop. "Where was Matthew during this time?"
"Chad Spencer, the owner of the general store, found Matthew hiding in his storeroom. He was obviously in shock."
"Was…was he with his mother when she died?"
"I don't know. I know nothing about what happened that day. Matthew hasn't said a word since. Soon after the funeral, I took him to a specialist in St. Louis. The doctor said that a severe shock can paralyze a person's vocal cords. He didn't offer much hope for Matthew's recovery."
What he would give to hear Matthew's voice again, to hear Matthew laugh aloud. Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised to feel Maddie's arm around his shoulder.
"I wish there were something I could do," she said softly. She pressed her cheek against his, and he breathed deeply to absorb the nearness of her.
Then, with a muttered curse, he turned his head away. Confused, she drew back, and the eyes that met his were filled with hurt.
He hated knowing he was the cause of her pain. The guilt he felt at that moment was strong, but he no longer had the strength to push her away.
He felt shaky. He had never cared much for alcohol and never built up much of a tolerance for it. Even so, it surprised him how much he was affected by the relatively small amount he'd had to drink. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like a schoolteacher dealing with a wayward student."
"I…I didn't meant to. Were you drinking that day? When your wife died?"
He narrowed his eyes in thought. "I'd had a few drinks. Someone gave me some whiskey at one of the saloons when I was looking for the doctor. He said I looked like I needed a drink." He studied her for a moment. "Does it matter?"
"I'm just trying to understand everything that happened that night. Why you have no clear memory of it. Before today, I never saw you drink alcohol much, except for an occasional glass of wine."
"I don't handle the stuff well." H e pushed the bottle away. "My father was a drunk."