Chapter 36
Willie yawned, and her eyes watered as she fought the call of sleep. Each time she thought the battle won, she'd find herself jerking her head up. There was no excuse for this; she'd napped at the hotel, during the afternoon. Murdoch insisted. Yet, here she was struggling to stay awake. She shifted in the rocker's hard seat, then pushed back to start its motion. The rhythmic creak sparked her wakefulness, and she smiled at the memory of Tom, his chest puffed with pride, when he carried the sturdy rocker into the room. 'Might as well be comfortable, best chair in the place,' he'd said as he set the rocker down with care. He offered a boyish grin, when he told her a few of the ladies gave him the chair one year for Christmas then wiped at the arm with his shirttail as he invited her to try it out. He was right. It was a fine chair.
A woman's laughter startled her awake and she jumped from the chair when someone thumped against their closed door.
"Now Charlie, if'n ya don't slow down, you'll be done 'fore we git started."
"Ain't worried, Red, ya know'd damn well how to get me worked up again," he said as the footsteps and her giggles trailed off down the hallway and a door slammed closed.
Standing amid the relative quiet, Willie looked at each of the two sleeping men, neither appeared to have noticed the near intrusion and her heart began to slow its raging pace.
It was just the three of them. During the day, in addition to Murdoch, Val and Teresa had joined them. She was shocked when Murdoch allowed Teresa's visit, but the opportunity presented itself after he'd walked Willie back to the hotel for her nap, Teresa pressed and Murdoch relented. When it came time to escort her back, Murdoch refused to leave Willie alone, fearful it would be bad for her reputation. The irony of his fear caused Willie to turn away, hiding her sardonic smile. Initially, it had been her concern as well, but she became aware of her foolishness as she entered the saloon for the second time. Realizing, if she were to remain in Spanish Wells, there would be precious little reputation to protect.
Val's arrival put an end to their debate and with the sheriff's parting words Murdoch relinquished his fight for Willie's reputation. The sheriff's clear presentation of the facts shattered all reasonable expectations of a positive outcome and left Murdoch with few concerns beyond his son's predicament. He left to usher Teresa back to the hotel in the hopes of quieting her tears and catching a few hours of much needed sleep. He must have succeeded because the sun was still baking the room when he left and now that warmth was being carried off by the night's welcome coolness. Welcomed by all, except Johnny, she imagined. He'd shivered nearly all day, despite the wretched heat, but for the moment, he was still, as was Scott.
She stepped closer to Scott, watching him. Even breaths told her he was sleeping peacefully, a marked change from his earlier restlessness. One hand dangled limp over the edge of the small bed, and she laced her fingers through his as she sat beside him. A working man's hands, she relished their touch, rough against her skin. The bed creaked when he shifted slightly but offered no sign of waking. Laying her hand on his forehead, she breathed a sigh of relief. The slight fever that had developed earlier was now retreating. She allowed her fingers to brush his bruised cheek as they traveled down to trace his lips. "I'm sorry Scott," she whispered. Leaning forward she placed a feather light kiss on his mouth, lingering to feel his soft puffs of breath. "I'm so very, very sorry." Guiding his hand to her belly, she held it in place with both of hers.
She woke to the rhythmic beat of Scott's heart, her head resting comfortably on his chest, his arm wrapped about her shoulders. The weight made her feel safe, loved. She'd never loved another man this much. There was David, of course, several years her senior. He was educated, her teacher in more than books, and she loved him, but not like this, never like this. He didn't stir in her the feelings Scott did. She'd realized, as they'd traveled west, that she fell in love with what David offered, the escape from that horrid, dirty town and its mine, her father, a hard man with a harder fist and the smell, how she hated the smell of that place. Love for the man did develop over the years. It grew deep and rich, born from respect and tenderness, but never passion, never did she crave his touch or hunger to lie beside him.
Beside him, the words brought to mind where she was and the imprudence of her thoughts. Sliding out from beneath Scott's arm, she stood. Missing his embrace, a shiver caused her to pull her shawl from the bed post. It warmed her skin but the cold inside remained. She ran a hand over her belly and walked toward the window. Only the cool night air greeted her. The laughter and plunk of the out-of-tune piano were no longer echoing off the buildings. But, sunrise was still hours off. A soft glow emanated from a few of the hotel's windows and a brighter light came from Val's office.
"When you planning on telling him?" Johnny's voice startled her.
She was silent for a moment, considering his question. No doubt, she misunderstood. "You're awake," she said, not turning from the window.
"Yup. Have been near all day. Too fuck…, sorry. I can't get warm."
"I know."
"And just how would you know that? Don't tell me you…"
"Me?" She turned to face him, but not before wiping the flow of tears from her face. "No, not me, David, my husband, he was ill. It took a while, but we figured out a way to make it work, until the end when all we could hope for was making him comfortable."
"I'm sorry about that, never did…"
"Why should you? You didn't know either of us."
"Yeah, well, I know ya now and…" He shivered. "Think you could shut that window?"
She looked at him; he was struggling to stay in control. A lesser man would be crying, begging but not this man. The window slid closed easier than she expected, though she knew the action would do nothing to warm him. "There are no more blankets," she said watching the tremors take control. "How long has it been? Do you have any idea?"
"T-Too long, sun was c-coming up." He sniffed. "At least I th-think it was, m-maybe." He squeezed his eyes closed and drew a long slow breath through his mouth and held it until the shaking stopped.
"Better?"
"No." His eyes were still closed. She pushed the hair back from his face and he flinched. "Don't. It hurts."
"What hurts?"
"Everything. My hair, my skin, the weight of these damn blankets, everything hurts."
"What do you say I take a look at that leg? Then maybe we can talk about what you need."
"You know damn well what I need."
He was losing patience, she could tell by the desperate edge to his voice, but he wouldn't beg, No, this man would never beg. "You said you'd help me? Or did I get that wrong?"
"You weren't wrong. I'll do what I can," Willie said as she lifted the covers. "At least something is working in our favor; the swelling has gone down considerably."
"Still hurts like hell." He sniffed again.
"I know." She tried to smile. "Everything hurts."
For a second there was a smile in his eyes then it was gone. "Just so you understand, if it was just me, I'd go off somewhere and curl up in a ball until I stopped wanting to be dead, but Val said, tomorrow he'd have to lock me up and…" His eyes darted to Scott then back to Willie. "I can't be sick like that, not locked in a cage for the world to see." He shook his head. "It ain't just me it would hurt."
"I understand, I do, but be warned, it won't be as much as you want, just enough to keep the sickness away. Do you understand that?" Willie pulled the small bottle from the pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt and Johnny's hand darted out to snatch it. She stepped back. "You'll do this my way," she said reaching for a cup. She opened the bottle and poured a small amount. Johnny watched every motion.
"I need enough to get me across the street and into Val's office," he said licking his upper lip. "I don't want anyone coming to get me. Next time you can give me less."
"You say that now." She poured a little more into the cup before passing it to him. "That's it."
He met her look. Drinking this wasn't what he wanted, but it was what he needed. Need versus want, she could see the private war waging through his watery blue eyes. Need won.
Cradling the empty cup in his hand Johnny leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. In a matter of minutes, his shoulders relaxed, the tense ripple in his cheek faded, and the hint of a smile appeared. The sensation had been described to her many times; the warmth of a mother's love, soaking into bone, muscle, flesh, taking away all the pain until nothing mattered.
"You're an angel." His words came in a breath; slow, contented.
"I'm not so sure your father or your brother would agree."
"They'd be wrong." His stare was steadfast. "Especially if you tell them your secret."
"And what secret would that be?" She blurted out a nervous laugh and both looked toward Scott as he mumbled something then rolled over and stilled. Bringing her hand to her chest, she fingered a small button.
"You never answered my question," he said.
"And what question would that be?"
"When are you going to tell him?"
"Some things are best kept secret. When all this blows over, he'll be happy I'm gone. You'll see."
"And just who do you think will be left standing when all this blows over?" he mimicked. "Not me. I'll be swinging from the end of a rope."
Willie's knees buckled and she dropped to the edge of the bed.
"Not tryin' to scare you, but, it's the truth. There's no way to fix this." She opened her mouth to speak and he raised his hand to stop her. "I know you think I'm giving up, but some things are worth dying for and some secrets are worth keeping," He reached out and placed his hand over hers. She hadn't noticed, but she had it resting over her stomach. "But, not this one, he'll need you once I'm gone. This will help make everything alright."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "No, Johnny, nothing will be alright. The pain would never go away. And in the end it will be me he hates, because…"
"Listen to me. You can't keep this a secret. Lies kept both Scott and me from our father. You can't repeat that."
"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of staying. It may sound selfish, but I need a man who loves me, not my ability to give him a family. I thought I couldn't, I turned him down and he left, he just left." She stood and turned away. The tears rolled down her cheeks in big drops, fresh ones appearing the moment she wiped the old ones away. "I thought he'd put up a fight, I thought I meant more to him than that. I thought I was being noble by giving him a choice."
"Noble? What the hell is that?"
The question took her by surprise. With a tilt of her head she turned back and looked at him. "It's what you're being."
"Nope." He shook his head. "Not me."
"You may not think so, but yes, Johnny, you are. None of us believe you did this and all we can think of is you're protecting the girl. And that is noble. It's wrong, but it's noble."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"It does sound like something you'd do, but why? Why her?" Her question was met with silence. "Johnny, please tell me. You know my secret. It's only fair that I know yours."
"You're good." Johnny laughed and pointed his finger at her. "No wonder Scott loves you."
Willie looked away, if only she could believe that. If only she'd kept her fears to herself. Then there never would have been any doubt, she would have gone on thinking he loved her beyond measure. Now it looked like she was testing him, when, in reality, all she wanted to do was to spare him pain. Her eyes returned to Johnny. Pain, this was only just beginning.
"I know my brother, and he would never give you a snap answer on something important. Me? I shoot from the hip, kind a like you, I think. But, Scott needs to think things through. He'll figure it out and when he does he'll tell you the truth. Scott is honest, as honest as the day is long, and these last few days have been endless."
TBC