Hannah the Healer Read online

  She looked at him. “Henry, someone has to make sure they are okay and not sickly. It’s better for them if it’s me, better for Doctor Thomas, too. He’s single, you know.”

  “Never thought about it. Don’t know if I like that, Hannah.”

  “You don’t have to like it but I won’t stop helping them when they need it. Unless it’s an emergency, we could schedule those trips and you could go with me. You couldn’t be in the room with me but you could wait out on the landing.”

  Henry thought about it and finally she saw him nod as he agreed. “You’re right. I just said I didn’t want to stop you from doing what you felt led to do. I’ll not be making myself a liar now. I do like the idea of coming with you and if there’s an emergency and I’m near, I would like to be there then, too. I think if Doctor Thomas is agreed, we have a good plan. Are you going to be all right coming to live in Topaz with me?”

  “As long as Bob and Hazel can come with me.”

  Henry frowned. “Who is Hazel?”

  “My cow.”

  “Oh well then I have no problem with the cow; she can stay in the barn behind the Marshal’s office. But the rooster… I don’t want him living with us after we’re married.”

  She hid her smile. “Bob is just doing his job, Henry. I’m sure after we’re married he’ll be more than happy to look for his own hens and roost.”

  “Well, you just make sure he knows I won’t put up with him attacking me for sparking with my wife.”

  The bird looked at him and hopped up on her lap before crowing long and loud as if to say, “She ain’t yours yet, boy.”

  Seven

  Henry hurt; his back felt like it had been… well, like it had been shot, which it had and only two days ago. But the snow and wind had finally died down and he figured if it warmed up a bit in a few days the trail would be passable and they’d either get some company or they’d ride into Creede and check on Reverend Eugene and have him perform their wedding. Henry hadn’t gotten to steal but a couple more kisses before that stupid rooster started making such a racket they couldn’t stay together. He was either pecking at Henry’s feet, or he’d jump and kick those wicked spurs at his chest or side, trying to scratch the Marshal, or he’d put extra effort into it and end up flapping his wings at Henry’s head and trying to peck at the top of his hair yanking it. Finally, Hannah had declared she needed to go clear the path to the privy anyway, and took the cantankerous fowl with her.

  Henry wished he wasn’t weak and didn’t have a hole in his back; he’d be the one shoveling the path instead of sitting here while Hannah did it. Of course, if he hadn’t been shot and lost so much blood, he wouldn’t be here at all. While he didn’t enjoy being shot in the back by some low-down, yellow-bellied pole cat, he couldn’t be too upset because it brought him an unexpected jewel in the form of Hannah Coppersmith. Now he was going to be married to her, something that might never have happened if not for the shooter. That got him thinking about two things. The first, who did shoot him? His first thought was that Ketchem had tried to kill him before his investigation could prove the sheriff was as crooked as that tree rumor said Mrs. Fontaine had fled to when she killed that cougar. However, the man had yelped in surprise and returned fire so that didn’t seem likely. But he hadn’t heard anyone else ride up behind him. Maybe the yelp wasn’t surprise at being shot at as much as the fact that Henry hadn’t dropped dead right then. Henry wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to find the person that shot him unless they tried again, but he learned a valuable lesson: never leave his back open to anyone he didn’t trust beyond a shadow of a doubt. Nathan had told him that a thousand times, but he’d gotten complacent riding with the infamous Preacher.

  The other thought was he hadn’t taken care of his gun since that night when he fired it to drop Eugene out of that noose. He reached over to the post at the head of the bed, pulled both Peacemakers out of the holster, and unloaded them. He pulled a cleaning kit out of his saddle bag that Hannah had placed under the head of the bed. He cleaned and oiled both six shooters and reloaded them. He’d only fired the one round that night. Never even saw who put a slug in his back. He wondered if Hannah had kept the bullet. That might be a useful thing to have. It would at least tell him what kind of weapon he’d been shot with. He also needed her to bring him his rifle. While he hadn’t fired it, he had pulled it from the saddle boot and exposed it to the elements. At the least, he needed to make sure it was dry and well-oiled so it would be in good working order when he could use it again. If his coat wasn’t ruined he’d try and get in some practice while snowed in. He could pick a target behind the line shack even if he just tossed a couple of those empty fruit tins out to shoot at.

  That was another thing he’d learned from Nathan. Practice every day. Both speed and, more importantly, accuracy. It had paid off when he’d needed to be accurate to save Eugene’s neck, literally. He remembered how hard Nathan had to work after his return to Redemption from Cottonwood. He, too, had been shot in the back on the same side if he remembered correctly, and it had taken Nathan months of daily target and quick draw practice to get back where he was before the shooting. Nathan still claimed he was slower than before he was shot but no one else saw that. Henry hadn’t shot either his Colts or his Henry for two days now. And while that wasn’t enough to get rusty, the weakness and pull of the stitches did concern him. What if he ended up needing his skills to protect himself or, worse, Hannah? He lifted both pistols only to have them start to shake badly before he even got them to firing height.

  He stood and strapped the gun belt to his waist, got it set and tried a right-hand draw, and gasped before his hand even reached the six-gun in his holster. Lifting it with any speed was not going to happen. He tried the left and while he could get the gun out, he had no real control over the pistol and the pain was almost as bad as the right hand. He got set to try drawing left handed again when the door opened and Hannah came in. She stopped and her eyes got wide. “What do you think you’re doing, Henry Wheeler?”

  “I’m testing my draw, Hannah. It’s a necessary skill in my line of work.”

  “Are you trying to undo all my hard work? You’ll rip the stitches doing that this soon. Take that belt off and get back in the bed.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  She rushed over and tugged the belt loose from his waist. “No, you don’t understand. I’m going to say it one more time, Henry. YOU… ALMOST… DIED. You lost a lot of blood and it took a lot of stitches to close the hole blown in your back. Now take that shirt off and turn around; I need to see if you ripped the stitches loose.”

  She reached for the buttons on his shirt and had it off before he could tease her about undressing him. Then she was behind him poking and prodding at the area where he’d been shot. “Good, you didn’t tear anything loose. No more trying to use these until the stitches come out.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I do understand. I get how important these weapons are to your job, but you will not undo all my hard work and risk getting an infection and dying before we are married. I won’t allow that, Henry. A couple of weeks won’t hurt you that much. It will give you time to build your strength back up, too.”

  He sighed; he knew when he’d been beat. That was another thing he’d learned from watching the Ryders. When a woman was not going to budge on something she said. He saw the same fire and determination in her eyes that Grace, Elizabeth, and Rebecca Ryder had on occasions with their men. Never once had he seen Nathan, Rowdy, or even David win when that look was used. So, he just nodded and put the gun-belt back on the bedpost.

  Hannah and Henry talked as they ate, and she continued to work around the cabin. It was hard to get too excited about some of the cleaning jobs she needed to do because of the talk they’d had about her moving to Topaz with him after the wedding. But she wanted to leave the place in better shape for Waylon’s men than it had been when he’d offered to rent it to her. She would get it cleaned, an
d when the time came to leave, she would make sure it was fully stocked with beans and flour and other staples like coffee and cornmeal, some tins of peaches and dried apples. She’d have Henry lay in fire wood, and she’d make sure all the original bed covers were clean and pressed. This would give her something to do while she and Henry were stuck here alone together.

  While he was awake and willing to talk, they did. They talked about their lives before they came to Creede and learned about the adult versions of each other. Hannah heard of the things Henry had helped Marshal Ryder and Marshal Cody with in and around Redemption and the New Mexico territory. She talked about nursing school and her mother trying to force her to become a proper society lady after her sister’s death. She explained the deal Nugget Nate had made her father and that, for the first time she could ever remember, her father had gone against her mother’s wishes and insisted Hannah finish her training and even agreed that she should look for a nursing position.

  Henry talked about learning to live, not only as a lawman, but how to be a good one in the wild western territories. It was different than what he’d learned in New York as a Marshal. Back east people had respect for the badge; in the west they either feared it or belittled it, unless you could back it up with justice and a quick, accurate gun. While he was no shootist like Nathan Ryder or Bart Cody, he wasn’t slow and could hit what he aimed at with either hand and with a rifle.

  He explained how Nathan had made him practice every day, not just with pistol and rifle, but with knife and whip and even bow and arrow. Henry knew that Nathan held the same belief that Nugget Nate had: A man learned to use whatever weapon was at hand. On top of that, he learned how to read people, how to spot trouble before it happened, how to stop trouble before it happened or to end it once it had. To bring justice or even vengeance. Hannah was amazed at the change in him. He told her himself and his stories proved it; he left New York City a boy, but had become a man in New Mexico. Now he was about to become her man in just a few short days. Just as soon as they could travel up the trail.

  With dinner, talk turned to Henry’s declaration that she would either share the bed with him that night, or have it to herself. “Henry, you won’t heal sleeping on the floor. You need to stay in the bed so that your back is protected from the hardness of the floor.”

  “Then we need to figure out how we will both sleep in the bed, Hannah, because I can see you aren’t getting enough rest on the floor. You are starting to look tired and worn out, and I won’t have it. You want me to rest and heal, but I won’t be able to if you end up exhausted and sick. So, what can we do?”

  The bed wasn’t super narrow like a lot of line shacks were. Being closer to the main trail between Topaz and Creede, this one had been equipped for use by travelers who might need to get out of the weather as well as ranch hands. The bed was large enough for two, but how could they both sleep in it without violating their convictions? Well, her convictions. She wasn’t so sure that Henry would be as concerned with her coming to their marriage bed pure. But she was not just concerned, but determined.

  “If we were in New York or even some of the boarding houses along the way west there would be a bundling board, but we don’t have anything like that.”

  “No, we don’t. Maybe we could use some of those extra quilts and furs you were talking about.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Henry smiled and took her hand. “You could get under all the covers, and I could lay on top of what’s there now and cover with a quilt or fur or two. We could also roll a couple to place between us.”

  Hannah thought about that for a minute and then nodded. “That could work. And if I know Bob, he’ll be right there keeping watch over us.”

  Henry nodded. “I just want to say again, after we are married that rooster will not be living inside with us. I’ll get you some hens and build a coop next to the barn, but I won’t have that beast interfering with us after we’ve pledged ourselves to each other.”

  Hannah blushed and smiled. “His job was to protect me and my virtue. I’m sure he’ll be just fine with giving the job to you as my husband.”

  Henry looked down at the bird who was sitting on the far end of the table watching and listening. “I don’t care if he likes it or not. I’ll be doing the job after our I do’s are said.”

  After dinner was eaten and the dishes cleaned, Hannah helped Henry back to the bed. She rolled two quilts together and placed them down the middle of the bed, and insisted that Henry get under the original sheets since she had a few more things to do and one of them was give him a dose of laudanum. He started to resist until she told him that if they were going to share the bed, he would need the extra pain relief as every move she made would cause him pain without it. He agreed and soon was fast asleep. After changing into her flannel nightgown, and stoking the fireplace, and banking the kitchen stove, Hannah climbed in the bed on the far side and settled into the covers. Just before she slipped off to sleep, she felt a weight on the quilts between her and Henry. She looked to see Bob nesting between them, helping to keep a level of separation. Hannah smiled, knowing that Henry was right; the rooster would have to stay outside after their wedding. But for now, he was doing the job her guardian angel had given him; protecting her virtue.

  Eight

  Their time had flown. After their first night sharing the bed, they had agreed the plan worked; by the sixth day alone in Hannah’s cabin they had mostly fallen into a routine. Henry was getting around better and had gained much of his strength back. He was even going out to the lean-to barn with Hannah when she milked the cow and fed the horses. His stallion, Fury, was getting as antsy as Henry; both felt trapped here without being able to get out. He needed to be searching for the man who shot him in the back. Hannah had saved the bullet; he could tell it was a small caliber round from a small pocket gun or derringer. He was even more sure that Ketchem had tried to kill him. But why the deception? Why not just pull his Peacemaker and finish what he’d started? He could have let the Reverend hang and his boss would have been happy. Two problems removed at once. Henry never understood the working of the outlaw’s mind. But he wondered how Ketchem would react when the weather allowed Henry to ride into Creede again. Henry found he was looking forward to it.

  While Hannah wouldn’t let him draw or fire his Colts or his rifle, he had begun lifting them over and over to help build his muscles. Nothing fast or fancy, just lifting them to shoulder height and lowering them slowly again and again to build his strength. As soon as Hannah or Doc took out the stitches, he’d be back out practicing every day till his speed and accuracy returned.

  Each morning after they woke, Henry would pull Hannah into his arms and kiss her until that dadblamed rooster would peck or flap at him. Each day he was becoming more enamored of the woman she’d become; it became harder not to pull her into that bed without the extra covers separating them and show her just how much she was coming to mean to him. Yet there was still enough of the gentleman he’d been raised to be to refrain. The kisses were growing longer and more passionate and he fought to keep his hands on her hips or the back of her head and neck. She came away from them breathless and, more often than not, a bit shaky as well. Henry finally admitted to himself this sixth day of their time together that he couldn’t think of what his life would be like without her in it. He didn’t want to contemplate what it would be like not to see her face first thing in the morning or last thing before falling asleep. That afternoon as she sat across the table from him at lunch he came to realize that his heart beat faster when he caught her looking at him. That without trying he could tell where she was in the room. He wondered if that would hold true once they could leave this little cabin. He was almost startled by the realization that he was in love with Hannah Coppersmith. Henry Wheeler who had locked his heart away and promised himself he’d never love again, had gone and fallen in love with the woman he was going to have to marry. Only now he wanted to marry her. It wasn’t so much he had to for
her sake, but that he had to so that he wouldn’t lose her in a town filled with single men.

  When it came time to turn in for the night and she offered him a dose of pain medicine, he declined. Instead, he got under the covers as he had every night before but this time he was awake and alert. When she finally stepped out from behind the blanket she’d hung as a dressing screen and climbed into bed beside him, he reached out and touched her face. Hannah looked over at him and he smiled. “Hannah Coppersmith, while this bullet and storm may have forced us into a situation where we’ll have to marry, I want you to know that I’m glad it’s you I’m going to have to marry. No, that’s not right. I’m not glad; I’m down right thrilled with the idea of making you Mrs. Wheeler.”

  Then he leaned over the wall of quilts and kissed her. With every second the kiss lingered, he poured more passion into it. He felt Bob land between them and with his other hand grabbed the rooster and flung him from the bed. Pulling her as close to him as the quilts would allow, he didn’t gentle the kiss or pull back till he felt the bird land just above his head ready to attack. Then he pulled back and glared at the rooster. “Soon, Bob, you’ll be sleeping outside and she’ll be all mine.” The rooster looked him in the eye before letting out a loud crow and then settling between them as if to say, “Soon, but not tonight.”

  Hannah blushed and her fingers went to her lips. Henry knew she had a good idea what he had tried to convey to her with that kiss. Soon he’d say the words but not till he knew she’d believe them.

  Hannah lay awake long after Henry had fallen asleep. She could still feel his kiss; it felt different than any of the ones he’d given her during the six days they’d been alone. Those others had made her a quivering mass of woman but this kiss had felt like he was claiming her very soul. It was a kiss that said there was more to his feelings than friendship or even desire; it said she was his and he was hers. He’d caught Bob in mid-attack and flung him away. He’d pulled her as close to him as he could before letting her go as if to tell her that something had changed between them. He hadn’t said he loved her but that kiss said it for him. He’d told Bob that she was his. He’d told her he wanted to marry her. She really was getting her heart’s desire here.