Ben remained at April's side, just as he had promised her. Despite her resistance, he refused to let her face the terrible sickness alone. Once the grip of rabies took its hold on April, Doctor Phelps also kept his word to Ben and sedated the deteriorating woman with morphine only allowing her brief periods of consciousness. During these times, Ben would work diligently to force April to take small amounts of broth laced with an herbal tea that Hop Sing made and had delivered to the Virginia City Hospital. It was agonizing for Ben to witness the crazed, haunted look in April's eyes every four to six hours when she woke from her drug-induced sleep as the morphine wore off. After each injection, the thrashing and panting would subside as the medication took effect, but the sight of April lying with her hands bound together to keep her from flailing and lessen the risk of her scratching her attendants was excruciating for Ben. WIth the help of a nurse, he would prop April on her side to decrease the likelihood of her choking on her secretions. Ben read poetry and comforting passages of scripture to her during the quiet hours with no certainty that April could even sense his presence. He held her hand, stroked her cheek, and declared his love for her. Though Dr. Phelps knew of no one that had ever recovered from rabies, the physician did not interfere with Ben's tender ministrations except to remind him to take extreme care when April was awake. The doctor ached for Ben as he watched him encourage the once vibrant woman to fight the horrendous disease and not give up their hope of having a future together. This went on for three days. On the fourth day following an early morning administration of the morphine, the doctor informed Ben that he thought the end was near. Ben's head dropped in resignation. Dr. Phelps placed a comforting hand on his friend's arm before taking his leave.
April Christopher and her husband Paul had been neighbors of the Cartwrights before Paul's work took him to San Francisco. Several years after Paul's untimely death, April desired a fresh start and returned to the Virginia City area to build a new home. Ben had enthusiastically agreed to supervise the project for the attractive widow. The chemistry that had always existed between them, but propriety had never allowed them to encourage, began to grow into an unspoken love. It was during her stay with the Cartwrights that April was attacked by a wolf while Jamie and her were discussing the construction of a temporary coop for her chickens. Following the attack, Jamie struggled with tremendous guilt and shame due to his inability to protect the woman who he had quickly grown quite fond of. Ben hunted down the wolf and sent the carcass off to be tested. Though he did all he could to give April hope, her increasingly irrational behavior and eventual fear of water dashed those hopes even before the report finally came that confirmed that the wolf had been rabid. With the realization that her death was eminent, April encouraged her daughter, Lori, to marry her fiance without delay in San Francisco. The couple was to then stop in Virginia CIty before making their move to Boston for his employment. Dr. Phelps made the arrangements for April to spend her remaining days on earth at the hospital in Virginia City and now it appeared that the ordeal would soon be over.
Once the medication had calmed April's convulsive fits, the nurse helped Ben position the dying woman on her side, and then left them alone after she was given instructions to return only when called. Ben sat down heavily. His hands clenched into fists before he gently placed them over April's. He fingered her restraints with great sadness of heart.
Slowly he lowered his head until it came to rest on their joined hands. "We could have been so happy together. You are the breath of fresh air that I needed. Just like a lovely spring day, my beautiful April." He brought forth a deep sigh before continuing. "I know you are tired, my darling, and that you would stay if you could." Ben swallowed hard and there was a catch in his normally velvety smooth voice. "I love you, April...I always will." Ben paused and the tone of his voice changed from gentle to pleading. "Why? Why, Lord, must you take every woman I love? No! Not just take them, wrench them away in such a painful and horrible way. Where is your love? Where Lord? I believe you are there. Please help me understand. Please!"
Sobs racked Ben's body. So distraught in his grief, he did not feel the almost imperceptible movement of April's fingers or see the faint flicker of her eyelids.
Doctor Phelps returned to the hospital around noon, slightly past the time that April's next dose of morphine would have been due. He found Ben seated with his head still resting on April's hands. Neither Ben nor April moved or responded in any way when Phelps closed the door loud enough to be heard. Tears began to build in the doctor's eyes thinking that April had passed. He took a deep breath and bolstered his professional persona before giving Ben's shoulder a firm squeeze. So utterly exhausted from several days of little sleep and the emotional upheaval of his constant vigil, it took a moment for the fog to clear from Ben's sleep-filled head.
"Was there a great struggle?" Phelps asked with gentleness.
"No..no struggle...I think she's just slipped away." Ben whispered blandly, his emotions now played out.
Phelps instinctively placed his fingers on April's wrist. Expecting to feel nothing and then pull the sheet up over April's head, he was shocked to feel a faint but definitely present pulse. The doctor lifted April's eyelid and saw the slightest constriction of her pupil. He felt her forehead and could no longer detect any sign of fever. There was a tightening in the doctor's chest as he let out an uncomfortable breath. Ben was too spent, physically and emotionally, to catch the change in Phelp's demeanor. Based on all his reading and experience with rabies, the doctor found April's current condition to be far from the norm for one who was suffering from the disease. Patients would suffocate from their own secretions. It was a traumatic, painful, and ugly process, none of which seemed to be happening with April. Dr. Phelps was in a quandary. He would now be forced to render a medical opinion from which he had no basis to work and which could also appear as a very cruel joke to a friend who thought that the love of his life had passed on.
"Ben." The doctor waited briefly seeking his friend's full attention. "Ben." Finally, Ben looked up at Phelps. "I don't understand it...but April is still alive."
"What?" Ben's face was awash with disbelief. His head jerked to look upon April's unmoving body and then back to the doctor.
"I can't explain it. It goes against everything I've read and seen. I don't want to give you too much hope. It's still too early to say. April has taken in so little fluid over the past few days. It will be impossible for her body to last much longer without water. Either she will wake up soon and take fluids or she truly will be gone."
Ben squinted trying to take in all that Phelps had said. He rose stiffly, a bit unsteady from spending so many hours in his chair. Ben's eyes bore down on the shorter man. He grasped the doctor by the shoulders. "But you do think there is still hope that she could pull through?"
"Tiny as a mustard seed...but yes, I believe there is hope."
Ben turned to place his palm against April's cheek and spoke. "Faith...as a mustard seed." His eyes rose toward the ceiling as the tears began to run down his cheeks. Ben ran his hand down April's arm and lightly caressed it before turning back to Dr. Phelps. "Should we try to rouse her? I mean, how long can we afford to wait before at least trying to get her drink something?"
"Honestly Ben, I'm not sure. Something in me says that her body is making a serious effort to heal itself. Let's give her a few more hours and see what happens. If by later this afternoon she still is not awake, then we shall have take some measures to help."
Ben nodded. "Then we'll wait."