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The Wedding Kiss Page 6
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Several men chuckled at the joke, which showed who’d been hitting their private stashes.
Ray stepped forward, grabbed Elam’s hand, and patted him on the back with a couple of hard claps of thunder. “You got yourself a mighty fine gal, that’s for sure. She not only breaks horses and plows fields, but she can raise your kids.”
Elam caught sight of Ray’s daughter, still lingering too close for comfort. He wondered if Ray knew about Raylene’s attempts to despoil Keara’s reputation. David had mentioned the rumor just yesterday. Another disappointment. Why was Raylene behaving with such spite all of a sudden?
Without slowing to exchange pleasantries with the other men from town, Elam plowed his way past the unexpected crowd in the house. Several more men tried to stop him, calling out warnings about the horrors of matrimony—as if they could convince him there was horror in matrimony to the right woman—and kidding him about his new young bride with references he was glad Keara couldn’t hear.
Until this past week, he’d never seen her blush. In all the years he’d known her, all the hours they’d put in together working the horses while Gloria was alive—and even more hours together after Gloria’s death—Keara had been capable of discussing every manner of animal or human behavior with nary a pink cheek. He’d discovered this week that Keara could, after all, embarrass easily with the right subject.
As the fifth man he encountered met him with a drink and a loud congratulations, Elam declined the drink and caught sight of his sister rushing through the kitchen and up the stairs.
In the kitchen huddled a clutch of women with their heads together, fussing over a dress the color of a robin’s egg—looked like Keara’s wedding gown was the center of attention for the moment, though he couldn’t get a good enough look at it to know for sure. Finally disconnecting from the nearly impenetrable wall of well-wishers, he circled the fretting women and ran up the stairs.
Friends were good to have. Elam had always appreciated the strength that came from good ties with family and trustworthy allies. The problem tonight was this blasted crowd.
He knocked at Britte’s door and listened. If Keara’s dress was downstairs, he didn’t want to walk in on her uncovered and—
“We’re occupied for the moment, Mrs. Harper.” Jael’s voice. “Has the ice arrived?”
He slid the saddlebags from his shoulder and knocked again. “It’s Elam.”
“Oh! Thank goodness.” His sister opened the door in a rush, grabbed his arm, and dragged him inside, her dark eyes filled with a combination of relief and distress. “Where have you been?”
He peered past her to find that Keara was fully clothed. Otherwise she would be red as a beefsteak. “Looking for you and Kellen and getting these.” He held up the bags. “How’s Susanna?”
“In and out,” Keara said. “So far, I think she’s okay, but she’s still upset about the crowd…among other things. I promised her Jael and Kellen were trustworthy.”
“Where’s Kellen?”
“He’s unloading more wood for the bonfire.” Jael grabbed Elam’s arm and leaned close. “We didn’t see hide nor hair of either of you when we arrived, just the buggy out in front. We both figured since this was your wedding night, it wasn’t any concern of ours where you were, so we just set to work.” There was a teasing note in her voice, and Elam saw Keara’s face redden. It was pretty on her, and the fact that he noticed startled him more than the blush.
“Can’t we cancel this party tonight?” he grumbled. “This isn’t a good time.”
His sister laughed. “A chivaree never takes place at a good time. Remember the pranks you pulled on Kellen and me? Nobody’s going to listen if you try to slink out of payback. You and Kellen better control the masses while I help Keara take care of this mess.”
Elam held out the bags to Keara.
She stared at them as if they were a bundle of snakes before taking them from him and setting them on the dresser. “Susanna’s not awake to tell me what to do with any of her medicines.”
“You don’t have to be a doctor, Keara,” he told her gently. “Just look through them to see if there’s anything you can use. If not, put them aside. So Susanna has awakened enough to be aware of what’s going on, obviously.”
“She’s overheard vital information about our wedding.”
“She’ll handle it. Try to keep her talking when she’s awake.”
Keara looked up and met his gaze. His gut clenched at the look of fear in her golden-brown eyes. After all she’d gone through this past week, now this. But he knew Keara. For all her delicate looks, she was feisty and strong. She could handle this.
“I’m going to have to remove the bullet.” Keara blanched as white as the bridal bouquet she’d been holding earlier today.
“There may be utensils in those bags that’ll help you at least get it out. Just do your best.” He reached out and took her left hand—the one with the wedding ring on it. He squeezed it gently then released her. He turned to Jael. “How’d you keep everyone downstairs?”
“Susanna’s blood.”
He felt horse-kicked. “They know Susanna’s here?”
“Oh, don’t overreact. They think it’s Keara’s, and that the injury was in a delicate area, so no one will have the temerity to ask too many questions.”
He nodded. He could trust his sweetly scheming sister to come up with something. Hadn’t she and Penelope spearheaded this wedding shindig—one that neither he nor Keara had expected or wanted—in a week? She could work magic. Too bad she didn’t know how to extract a bullet.
Keara turned up the lamplight and pulled utensils and medicines from the bags, one by one, handling them with care…or fear and awe.
Elam had a sudden urge to take her hand again or squeeze her shoulders or take her in his arms and remind her she was no longer alone. He’d had the urge several times this past week. Mostly, he’d resisted it. But they were married now. He hadn’t expected that to change anything, but now—
“She’s got a head wound,” Keara said, pointing toward Susanna’s bloodied black hair and the water dripping from folded bandages onto the pillow. “That lump’s got me worried.”
“You think that’s why she’s unconscious now?”
“Well, it’s not from blood loss. Heaven only knows what else I’ll find on her, but there’s not much blood on her clothing. My worry about removing the bullet is that it may be blocking a vein or artery. Unblock it, and the blood loss could be bad.” Keara gave Jael a beseeching look. “You’re going to stay and help?”
“That’s what sisters-in-law are for.”
Elam cast another glance at Susanna and felt a clench in his stomach at the familiarity of that face, the raven hair.
“Strong family resemblance,” Jael said, reading his expression perfectly. Her voice betrayed her sympathy.
Jael had never questioned his sudden decision to marry Keara. No one, yet, had heard about Keara’s dad losing her farm to a gambler from Missouri. Surprising, the way word spread in these parts, that no one had mentioned it. The bank president, however, was not one for gossip, and Keara could be as tight-lipped as a Baptist preacher.
“Now out,” Jael said, shoving Elam toward the door. “We’ve got work to do, and unless you change your mind about riding into the Springs for a doctor—”
“I haven’t.”
“And unless you can bring us ice from town—there’s supposed to be a block coming—then Keara will do her best. I’ll help. Go entertain our friends and neighbors.” She grimaced. “And try to lock Raylene Harper in the smokehouse, if you can.”
Elam glanced down at Keara, was once again touched by her fear, and he reached out and took her by the shoulders. There was a frailty in her he’d not seen before. If only there was more he could do to keep her from fretting. He knew she wanted to call a doctor and ignore Susanna’s pleas for secrecy, he could see it in her eyes.
“I’ve seen you handle worse than this, Keara Jensen.”
/> Her eyes widened, most likely at his use of her new married name. She met his gaze and seemed to gather strength from his touch. “But she’s…Gloria’s sister, Elam.” Her voice wobbled with emotion. “It’s almost like I’m trying to save Gloria’s life all over again.” Tears sprang to her eyes, and her chin quivered.
Despite the pain her words caused him, he felt closer to Keara at that moment than he ever had before. She shared this haunting with him just as she’d shared in the pain of Gloria’s death. Almost without thought, he drew her into his arms, feeling the fineness of her small frame, this woman who could run a farm single-handedly and win the love and respect of three motherless children.
He looked over Keara’s shoulder and saw that Susanna’s eyes were again open, though only for a second before they closed and she appeared to retreat into unconsciousness.
He glanced at Jael and found understanding and love. He would be teased again, mercilessly, as soon as he returned downstairs, and there would be many ribald comments about his marrying so quickly, but he was a man to face down anyone who wanted to take him on. His brothers-in-law, Kellen and David, and his brothers, Hans and Delmar, would support him.
With a final squeeze, he released Keara and left her in his sister’s care. He could think of no more stalwart friend for her right now. As he retraced his steps down the stairwell and the raucous sounds of the party enveloped him, he kept a picture in his mind of Gloria, through the sight of Susanna’s lithe form and beautiful face.
He also continued to feel the tender compassion and connection to Keara that was so new to him. His late wife, lost to him, his new wife, real to him. Both suddenly bonded together in his heart because of Keara’s love for Gloria.
This was right. He knew it. But he would have a struggle to blend his love for Gloria into this new and awkward marriage. His new wife deserved it. His children deserved it. They should be a real family.
Keara felt as if the air was sucked from the room when Elam walked out. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to depend on him these past months.
She looked up from the utensils and medicine vials she had laid out on the bureau top. Jael hovered with eyes wide, focused, ready to assist.
“You met Susanna before,” Keara said. “Was she like Gloria in manner? She favors her so much, and Gloria spoke often of her baby sister with great affection.”
Jael stepped back from the bed and rinsed a cloth in the water basin. “When I first met Susanna, I thought she and Gloria might be twins.”
“They were that much alike?” A thought began to vex Keara that she couldn’t dismiss. “With only two years’ difference between them—”
“I can’t say what they may have been like growing up,” Jael said, “but when I met them they’d been separated from one another for several years already. When Susanna was sent to her aunt’s in Philadelphia, it well nigh broke both their hearts.”
“I remember Gloria telling me that.”
“The societal influence, combined with their aunt’s tight control, made an obvious impact on Susanna,” Jael said, her voice softening, as if afraid Susanna might be listening behind those closed eyes. “She was given the introduction into a world Gloria had always longed for.”
Keara knew what Jael meant. Though Gloria could only read about modern styles and customs from books and magazines, Susanna had been given that life, the education.
“I can understand how it must have wrenched the two sisters apart,” Jael said. “I’d hate to be separated from Penelope. But in such a large family, a wealthy maiden aunt was the only way for Susanna to receive higher education. She showed so much promise.”
Another check of Susanna’s breathing and pulse told Keara she was still stable. If her eyes weren’t closed, Keara would think she was listening to the conversation. If only she would open those eyes again, and keep them open.
“Gloria was smart too,” Keara said. “She told me once that she had considered staying in the city near her sister, but Elam changed all that.” Since Susanna had married a man of consequence, Gloria might also have been counted among the more elite of Philadelphia.
Keara would do all she could to save this woman’s life—but what if she couldn’t? It would be like losing Gloria all over again. It was easy to imagine Gloria looking down from heaven and watching, waiting for Keara to do something grand to save her sister.
Keara didn’t know anything grand.
She didn’t know anything.
“We do what we can.” Jael placed her hand on Keara’s shoulder.
Keara looked again at Jael. Their eyes met.
“It’s all you can do.” Jael offered a smile and a nod. “Believe me, that’s plenty. I never saw another person so in tune with those injured and in pain.”
Keara knew Jael meant that as encouragement, but all she felt was the pressure to perform a miracle, and she didn’t exist in a world of miracles, only plodding, grasping, praying, and mixing herbs and concoctions that some folks in these parts derided as witches’ brews.
What hog slop. Witchcraft? They called the herbs and medicines supplied by God witchcraft. That was just plain evil.
“So are you going to remove the bullet while she’s unconscious?” Jael asked. “Or will you wait until she’s fully awake and able to feel the awful pain?”
Keara caught her breath. “Leave it to you to put it that way.”
Jael shrugged. “That’s how I see it. Get to it. Make me proud.”
Keara studied her patient then did something she’d learned from her mother before the accident that rendered her paralyzed. She pressed her knuckles against the center of Susanna’s chest and rubbed. Hard. If Susanna didn’t awaken from that pain, she would be less likely to revive to the pain when Keara removed the bullet from her shoulder.
A low moan, nothing more.
“Let’s do it,” Keara said. “You see that tool that looks like a pair of scissors, but with connecting handles? It’s called a hemostat, if I’m not mistaken. If I can dig down deeply enough, maybe I can grasp the bullet and remove it without too much more blood loss. If we only had more light in here.”
“I can fix that,” Jael said. “You know how Kellen is always the first one to jump on any newfangled invention that passes through town? Well, maybe now one of his harebrained ideas will help us this time. You ever heard of battery lights?”
“You mean that crazy thing he attached to your wagon so you can work outside at night?”
“That’s the one. Well, we’ve got it tonight, and I think I can convince Kellen to bring it up here without a whole lot of attention.”
“And just how do you plan to do that?”
“All I need to do is find him and talk to him and explain to everyone else that this so-called delicate injury of yours will need sewing with a good light.”
“And if they want to see the handiwork?”
Jael gave Keara a sly grin.
Keara took a deep breath and held Jael’s gaze. “Delicate area. Right. I’m glad we’re related now.”
“So am I. Now let’s get these wounds healed.”
Seven
One loud shriek, a trickle of blood, and Keara pulled the slug of lead from Susanna’s shoulder. The sounds of laughter and talk dwindled to hushed whispers that Keara could barely hear. She knew all eyes outside were trained upward on this bedroom window and the bright light from Kellen’s battery lantern.
Jael’s soft, comforting chatter seemed to soothe Susanna, and those haunting blue eyes closed, the harsh breathing softened, and a quiet moan accompanied her back to her world of unconsciousness.
Jael switched attention from their patient to Keara. “Your teeth are chattering.”
For the second time in this long, long day, Keara felt as if she might lose her last meal—which now that she thought of it, had been breakfast. No wonder she was lightheaded.
“She’ll be okay.” Jael put a firm arm around Keara’s shoulders. “You did fine. Do you need me to
get you anything?”
Keara took a strengthening breath and braced herself. “Hand me the whiskey and get ready for another scream. Can’t take any chances with—”
There was a loud knock on the door. “Lands, Jael, are you killing the poor bride in there?” It was Clydene Brown, church organist, church founder, and proprietress of her own bathhouse in Eureka Springs—a force to be reckoned with, and one who had always taken a special liking to Keara.
“I’m f–fine,” Keara called. “Everything will be…okay. Just keep the party going, will you? Oh, and Clydene, would you bring us a pitcher of tea? Chamomile. I’ve got it cooled in the springhouse.” She’d discovered years ago that the water from the natural spring that flowed through the springhouse here had as many healing properties as the water used in Eureka Springs.
There was a sound of sniffing. “My smeller may be off,” Clydene said, “but if I’m not mistaken, you’ve already got whiskey in there. Whatd’ya need with chamomile?”
“The liquor’s medicinal only.”
“What you need is a good dose of laudanum, if you’re hurting that badly.”
“Why, Clydene, it’s her wedding night,” Jael called, winking at Keara. “You wouldn’t want her to be unconscious for it, would you?”
Keara gave her sister-in-law a warning glare.
“Chamomile tea coming up,” Clydene called.
As the footsteps receded, Keara wiped her bloody hands on the damp cloth and tried to calm down. “This is madness. Pure madness,” she whispered under her breath.
Jael finished cleaning up after Keara and turned off the bright light. The contrast made it hard for them to see for a few seconds with nothing more than the oil lantern. “What now?”
“Now we clean it, bandage it, and wait. Nothing else we can do until we get ice for that head. Tomorrow I’ll get a poultice on her wound to keep it from getting infected.”
“Then I suggest you show your face out there to your admiring partiers and get me off the hook. I can clean and bandage. You’ve taught me that much. They need to know I didn’t really kill you in here.”