Westbound Awakening Read online

Mae took a breath and looked about the room to see if the new subject of their conversation had returned from out back. Perhaps the Captain had left after all. "No Miss Lady, he didn't say anything to Butch. Probably thought we were fooling around. You know John McClain always thinks the worse of me." Her chest constricted, and she forced the annoyance away. It did not matter what the man thought of her. Most people would agree with him.

  "Well no matter what he thinks, a man should always come to the aid of a lady." Miss Lady huffed and patted her hand. "I think he sees you with different eyes, as what you are. And you is worthy Mae Hawkins."

  "Look Miss Lady, that boy is dragging Janelle out to dance. He's about to get some sore feet. You know she can't dance a lick." Mae purposely changed the conversation and was grateful when Miss Lady began to chuckle and clap along with the music. Glad for the reprieve from Miss Lady's inferring that she should be treated like a lady, Mae moved away to circle about the room and greet customers.

  One of her girls stuck her head from the hallway and scanned the room until locking on Mae. Pale and shaking, the girl beckoned, hands moving fast.

  At seeing her pallid face, Mae hurried closer. "Are you all right? Calm down before you attract attention. Whatever is the matter with you?"

  The girl's mouth opened, but only air exited, no with no sound coming. She held one hand to flat against her chest and pointed toward the kitchen with the other. "I think there's a dead man out back. He's laid out on the ground." She heaved a shaky breath. "I was about to go out to get fresh air and tripped over him."

  Her heart quickened, and Mae released a gasp, but quickly recovered and forced a calm façade. "Goodness. I will fetch James. Now you go upstairs and splash cold water on your face. Stay there and get some rest. And don't say a word to anyone." The girl's head bobbed up and down and she flew from the entryway up the stairs.

  Mae turned away and took her time walking through the saloon to not rouse too much attention. Once she reached the bar, she waited to get James' attention and whispered for the burly bartender to follow her. "Wait just a few moments. I don't want to attract unwarranted notice," she instructed the man gave a barely perceptive nod in return. Mae stopped to make small talk as she made her way out of the saloon, dreading what she'd find once she exited the house.

  Who could it be? No one was missing.

  The kitchen door remained open. The cool breeze blew through the airy space, but she barely noticed in her rush to see who the unfortunate person was. Mae picked up her skirts and stepped through the doorway.

  At first she didn't seen anyone, then she looked straight down and froze. A pale John McClain lay sprawled on the ground, eyes shut, not moving.

  "Well I'll be damned, it's Captain McClain," James brushed past her, grunted when he leaned over the unconscious man running his hands over John's body. "You reckon someone shot him?" He peered closer at the man lying on the ground. "I don't see no blood. He's clean passed out or dead." The man pressed a finger to the side of John's throat. "I can't tell if there's a pulse."

  Mae's heart stopped, and she reached out to the bannister to keep from collapsing. "Are you sure? Try again."

  "Where have you two gotten to?" Miss Lady admonished from the kitchen. "The customers are thirsty, need James to man the bar." Miss lady walked out and stood next to her only to stiffen. "Oh goodness sakes, why isn't that Captain McClain?" Miss Lady pushed past a still nonmoving Mae and then shoved James away from John with surprising strength. "What are you doing James? Just looking at the man ain't helping none."

  The gentle giant stood next to Miss Lady. "I don't see any injury, no blood." James straightened with his arms hanging to his sides and kept an eye on Miss Lady.

  Miss Lady felt John's forehead and pressed her fingers onto the side of his neck. "He ain't dead. James pick 'em up and carry 'em inside to the bedroom just past the kitchen." Her sharp eyes met Mae's next. "For goodness sakes child, don't just stand there! Go open the bedroom door for James and get some cool water. The man is burning up with fever."

  The stilled heart in her chest began to pound, and she felt air entering her lungs. When James had pronounced John dead, the very ability to breathe left completely. Her world stopped, and an all-consuming darkness threatened to overcome. Surely John would be all right. They just had to nurse him and ensure he rested.

  Mae forced her mind away from the thoughts and shifted into action when James moved past her to toward the house with John in his arms. With quick steps, Mae raced back up the porch steps. To assure herself more than anything, she reached and touched John's heated face. He was warm, actually quite hot.

  After James went down the hallway, having to turn sideways to get his burden through, she rushed past him to hold the door open for him. Once the bartender made it through the doorway, she rushed to the kitchen, filled a pitcher with cool water and grabbed a pile of clean linens from a sideboard. It was imperative that she be there when John woke. She needed to witness his eyes opening.

  It didn't make sense. John seemed fine earlier when she'd spoken to him. Yes, he’d seemed overheated, but she'd attributed his flushed coloring to riding out in the sun and the overheated room. He was ill. She caught up with Miss Lady who was about to enter the room.

  James and Miss Lady made quick work of removing John's clothing. Once the shirt was removed and James had pulled his boots off, he hesitated looking up at Miss Lady. "I need to take his britches off."

  Miss Lady nodded, "Yes, he's bleeding from his right leg. We need to see what he's got going on there." The tiny woman turned and pushed Mae out the door. "You wait outside. I'll call you back in once he's covered up."

  "Oh for goodness sakes Miss Lady," Mae exclaimed. "I've seen a man without his pants on." In spite of her protests, she found herself outside the door as Miss Lady shoved her with force and slammed the door behind her. With a resigned sigh, Mae paced back and forth with ill concealed impatience. Who'd shot John and why? Did someone hide outside and wait to shoot him when he'd exited the house? Perhaps he'd been mistaken for someone else. She hesitated and strained to hear what was happening in the bedroom when several of the girls walked past her to the kitchen. They didn't notice her agitation, and she was thankful for it. For now they needed to keep what happened quiet.

  "Come on in Mae," Miss Lady finally announced, cracking the door. Before she could enter the room, James rushed past her and went toward the saloon.

  "Where is he going in such a hurry?" Mae asked and went to the bed to look down at the still unconscious John.

  "I told him to find the most sober soldier, so I can send him to go fetch the doctor."

  Mae rushed to the bedside and peered down at a shirtless, John had a wet cloth on his brow and blankets tucked neatly beneath his arms. His damp mahogany brown hair clung to the sides of his flushed handsome face. It was odd to see him so still, so vulnerable. Her eyes lingered on his enticing parted lips. "Is he going to be all right Miss Lady?"

  "He's been shot, twice. Not today. Looks like days ago," Miss Lady stated, lifting the blanket to expose his right leg. Mae's eyes widened at seeing the two angry wounds, one in his upper thigh and the second on his calf. Both leaked a yellowish liquid entwined with red blood.

  "He's in a bad way. The wounds are infected," Miss Lady answered her silent question.

  Mae pressed her palm against her chest. "Why was he here instead of somewhere recovering? He must have been in a lot of pain." A shiver traveled up her spine, and she trembled. "He should have remained at the post. In bed..."

  Without opening his eyes, John moaned and winced when Miss Lady began to poke at the wounds. "I'm going to boil some water and clean it out. When I get back, I may need you to hold him still. Remain here, hold him down if he begins to stir too much, sooth him. Talk to him, keep him calm." Miss Lady instructed. "Sing if you have to. He may hear you, and it will help settle him."

  "Sing?" Mae lifted an eyebrow. "That would probably push him closer to death."

  A
soldier burst into the room, his uniform askew and hat in hand. He stopped just inside the doorway, eyes darted to each of them before snapping first to his captain before focusing on the injured leg. The young man turned a light shade of green, yet he maintained a strong unwavering voice. "W-What happened to the Captain?" Without moving from the doorway, he looked to Miss Lady as if she held the answer to all his questions.

  The slight woman guided him out to the hallway, and he didn't fight her. "I need you to go into town. Looks like the Captain was shot days ago, and it's infected. Tell the doc to come out here, and make sure you tell him it's for Captain McClain. He may not hurry if he thinks it's one of our girls ailing." The hallway became silent as both the soldier and Miss Lady left to complete the tasks at hand.

  John moaned but did not open his eyes, still unconscious, and Mae took the now heated cloth from his brow plunging it back into the cool water. She placed it back on his brow and took his hand in hers. "John can you hear me? You'll be all right, don't fret, please just try to rest." His brow crinkled and she smiled. "I'll take that frown as a sign you can hear me. You don't like me to call you by your first name for some reason. Sometimes I wonder why that is. Never considered asking you. Perhaps once you wake up, I will. I will ask you John."

  With a loud groan, he arched from the bed, his back bowing high above the mattress. Mae swallowed hard not liking how much pain he was in while caressing his clenched jaw. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, I wish there was something I could do. "Shhh, shhh," she whispered in his ear while continuing to stroke his face. She repeated the shushing noises until, finally, he lowered back to the bed and seemed to calm. Either that or he passed out from the pain.

  Moments later, the door opened and Miss Lady bustled in with a container of hot water. The woman bent to place the pot on the floor next to the bed, her worried eyes on the unconscious man.

  Mae brushed the back of her free hand across the tops of her cheeks, surprised to find them wet.

  Miss Lady missed nothing. "What's the matter honey?"

  "I -- I feel so bad to see him in so much pain. I think he passed out."

  She was grateful when Miss Lady did not make an issue of her tears. "Well it’s a good thing he's out right now. I can get the wound cleaned out good without him feeling too much of it then. Just in case, be ready to hold him down." After a firm nod to ensure Mae understood, Miss Lady began to dip cloths into the hot water and cleaned the wound.

  A little over an hour later, even with the kitchen door open that allowed for the breeze to blow in, Mae fanned her overheated face while pacing around the sizeable kitchen table.

  One of the two soldiers who'd fallen asleep slumped over the table, snored and adjusted his head on folded arms.

  Mae moved away from the table and closer to Miss Lady so not to wake them and whispered. "I don't understand why we can't remain in the room while the doctor examines him." She picked up her glass of water and drank it all down before replacing it. "What if the doctor has questions, needs someone to hand him items? Or what if John takes a turn for the worse? Shouldn't we be in there to help?" Mae placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the older woman who sat in a chair with a serene expression, looking out the doorway into the darkness. "Honestly, I don't understand how you can be so calm right now Miss Lady?"

  The chair creaked as Miss Lady stood and took one of Mae's hands then led her to the doorway. They stood side by side in the narrow entry. Mae not sure what Miss Lady intended, waited without a word. "Look up there," Miss Lady instructed pointing at the sky. "Do you see all 'em stars?"

  Still unsure of where Miss Lady was going with this, Mae looked up to the sky and nodded. "Yes Miss Lady, it's a starry night."

  "Well you see, God knows each one of 'em, made them and placed them. And now us being his children, well he knows each of us even more. Right now, he is watching over the captain. There ain't nothin' any of us can do for him that the Lord isn't already takin' care of. Frettin' surely won't help, but prayin' and askin' for his help does. That's what I've been doin'."

  Eyes cast downward, Mae leaned against the slight woman. "You're right Miss Lady. I don't know why I'm acting up like this. You've taught me better. It's just that seeing him so weak, it's so dreadful. He's always been such a strong healthy man."

  "Still is," Miss Lady smiled up at her. "Its why he will be all right." Her eyes twinkled. "'Sides, I know the real reason you're frettin' so is because you're sweet on him. I understand that. Captain McClain is a very handsome man, and you can't help yourself." She chuckled at Mae's gasp. "Honey it shows every time he comes around. Your face lights up."

  "Oh!" Mae's mouth fell open. "You are mistaken, I am not 'sweet' on him or anybody." She drew away and went back to the kitchen just as two of the working girls walked in, both giggling loudly. They went to sit down when Miss Lady shook her head at them. "Oh no you don't. Both of you are in serious need of fresh air. Looks like you've been taking a drink or two of the hard stuff." Both of the women's eyes widened and flew to Mae before they attempted to hurry through the kitchen.

  Mae stuck her arm out and blocked the now subdued women as they tried to hurry past her. "Stop right there." They froze and faced her.

  She glared at each of the girls for a moment. "You cannot provide good services to the gentlemen if you are drunk, therefore they will not pay. If they don't pay, we don't eat. Simple. As. That. If you dare take but another sip of alcohol, you will pack your things and go." She met each of their now scared stares for a beat. "Am I understood?" Both girls nodded, heads bobbing with alarming speed. "Now go and get fresh air for a few minutes and then come back in here and drink some strong coffee." Mae slid her eyes to the soldiers who somehow managed to sleep through it all. Funny what exhaustion did to a person.

  Just as the girls hustled outside, the doctor walked in and stood just inside the kitchen entryway.

  Mae studied his face hoping she could read by his expressions how John fared. Miss Lady roused the closest soldier, who rubbed his face and straightened immediately upon seeing the doctor. He then shook the other soldier awake.

  Miss Lady regarded the physician. "Well Doc, how is Captain McClain? Can he be taken back to his post? These soldiers are waitin' to hear."

  Doctor Martin pressed his lips together and reached out to accept a cup of coffee Mae poured for him. His kind eyes met hers for a beat. Even though his temples had wisps of gray, the doctor was not an old man. While he only stepped into the brothel if one of the working girls was sick, he'd always treated them with respect and kindness. "Captain McClain is very sick" The doctor began and then regarded the men in the room. "You can go on back to the post and let your commander know he should not be moved right now." He regarded Mae next. "In my opinion, the Captain can't be moved for a while yet, at least a couple of weeks." He wrote a note and gave it to one of the soldiers. "Give that to the doc, and he can decide what he wants to do."

  The man sipped his coffee as Miss Lady fussed with the soldiers, walking them outside.

  "Miss Mae, how are you tonight?" Doctor Martin asked giving her a quizzical look. "Are you unwell?"

  "I'm fine thank you. Just tired. Is Jo -- Captain McClain's life in danger?" Her voice trembled at the last word, and she lifted her chin, attempting a look of indifference.

  "Well I gave him some drops for the pain. Miss Lady did a good job of cleaning the wounds. He came to long enough to disagree with what I told him may have to be done if the infection continues to get worse. So to answer your question Miss Mae, his life is in danger if the infection in his wounds keeps progressing. All you can do for now is keep it clean and dry." The doctor yawned and put the cup down. He placed his hat on his head and picked up the worn medical bag he'd dropped beside him. "Continue with the cool compresses and cleanings. I will be back in a couple of days. If he gets worse, send someone to fetch me."

  Silver dollars sparkled in the light when Mae held them out to the doctor who accepted the payment and left. The infecti
on would not get worse, and John would recover fully. She'd see to for herself. With a cup of coffee in hand, Mae hustled down the hall to check on the patient.

  A soft snore sounded within the dim room. John didn't rouse when she entered and closed the door behind. Whatever Doctor Martin had given him ensured he slept soundly it seemed. She neared the bed and felt his brow. Although still warm, he'd cooled down considerably. After dipping the cloth back into the cold water, she wiped his face and then placed a fresh compress on his brow. Somewhat assured, Mae set about straightening the blankets. She lifted the blanket to see the doctor had re-bandaged the leg. What had the doctor meant about John disagreeing with 'what had to be done'?

  "Mae?" The husky male voice woke her, and she blinked and jerked to look toward the bed. Barely opened dark gray eyes studied her. "Where am I?"

  "Still here at my house," Mae ran the back of her hand up her cheek and yawned. "You passed out in the back yard..." It was then she noticed his eyes were glazed and moving constantly from one end of the room to the other. "John, how do you feel?" He didn't need to answer her question. By the sheen of perspiration on his brow and the flush of his face, the fever had returned.

  John attempted to sit up, but gave up. "Is that a dog?"

  "Dog?" She followed the path of his vision; he stared at the floor near the door. "What dog John?"

  A soft moan sounded, and John closed his eyes. His lips moved yet he could not form any words. When she placed a fresh cool rag on his, his eyes jerked open and locked onto her face. "You're beautiful Maebelle. I've always admired your loveliness." The upward curve of his lips made her heart skip. "You can never know how hard it is to not touch you."

  "Whatever are you talking about?"

  His eyes closed, so he'd fallen asleep again. Mae remained frozen long listening to John's even breathing. How true were his words? All nonsense. Especially after seeing a dog. Of course, he must have mistaken her for someone else. The words from a feverish man meant nothing.