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  “I’d say,” Bug repeated. “Is that outdoor bathing tub still usable?” Snake had built a big holding tank years ago, and the boys always used it for their baths. Of course, the new house had indoor plumbing. They’d been planning on putting it in even before a fire burnt the original house to the ground.

  “Yup.” Skeeter scooped up the cup. “I’ll even loan you some clothes and stand guard so that no one comes around the shed.”

  “Thanks.” Bug didn’t care if anyone came around the shed or not, he just wanted to cleanse his body, and hoped the action would help his insides as well. They left the barn, and Bug had to look twice at the front yard. It was as spic and span as Ma’s kitchen. If he didn’t feel so rotten, he’d wonder if there had been a party here last night.

  Skeeter laughed. “The last of them rolled out an hour or so ago. You slept through it all.”

  Side by side, Bug and his brother walked around the wash shed. “I haven’t slept since I left New York, not much anyway.”

  “How was it out there? You make a good deal with that Staples guy?”

  The water sparkled invitingly in the sunlight.

  Bug smiled and ripped off the black leather vest. His boots were next. It wasn’t until he started unbuttoning his shirt that he answered, “No. We parted as friends, not partners. Chester’s refineries are too far from Kansas. It wouldn’t be profitable to ship crude that far.”

  “Are you going to build a refinery here?” Skeeter sat down on the bench, ready to visit.

  Bug didn’t mind in the least. His life out east had been more solitary than he’d realized. “Maybe someday.” He tossed aside his shirt and undid his britches. “But first I gotta get the oil out of the ground. I think I’ll try old man Rockefeller again.”

  “Think he’ll talk to you this time?”

  Before he went to Pennsylvania, he’d written to Rockefeller at his Standard Oil Company, but the reply had said they weren’t interested in the oil seeps Bug had found. That’s when he’d decided to take a sample first hand to the oil companies out east. The increasing population of the west had amplified the need for kerosene and other petroleum products.

  For as long as he could remember, Bug had been fascinated by the black tar around the area—and read everything he could find about the crude. Oil had been around since the beginning of time, some Indians thought the oil seeps had great healing power, and used it for medicinal purposes. Others, like Buffalo Killer, used it to water proof their moccasins and such. The major source of lamp oil had been sperm whales for years upon years, but the supply hadn’t been able to keep up with the demand for the past several decades.

  Now that he’d seen for himself just how huge the industry revolution was, he was even more positive his oil venture would pay off in no time. Not only did homes need the oil for light and heat, companies needed it to run their machinery.

  Bug lowered himself into the large tub.

  Refreshing and welcome, the water, warmed by the sun, flowed over his skin. “I know he’ll listen to me this time.”

  Holding his breath, he slipped beneath the surface. Life didn’t get any better. Within no time he’d be a married, rich oil man, with three redheaded kids.

  ****

  Doubled over by the pain, Eva wiped at the sweat dripping from her brows with the crook of her elbow. Her monthly flow had hit harder than ever.

  Since shortly after Willamina passed, her pattern fluctuated until it was as erratic as summer storms—flying in and out with great ferocity, and the cramping had become increasingly worse. She’d thought of talking to Ma about it, or even the new doctor in Scott, but her shyness had won out, and she’d held her silence. This morning, however, sitting on the chamber pot she’d pulled from beneath the bed, she wondered if she’d hemorrhage to death in the middle of her bedroom.

  It had hit so forceful and quick she hadn’t had time to make it to the water closet. Another fierce cramp knotted her insides and warmth trickled from beneath her bottom. She moaned, watching deep-red blood seep into the edges of her nightgown rippled across the floor around her.

  Tightening her leg muscles, she tried to stand, but a new onset of cramping and gushing made her cry out. When it eased, her legs shook uncontrollably. She let them go lax, and leaned against the edge of the bed that kept her upright on the chamber pot.

  The relief lasted only a second before the cramping brought her forward, grasping her stomach again.

  Bracket whinnied. The sound floated in through the open window. She moaned again. The horse needed to be fed, the cow had to be milked, and the chickens probably wondered why she’d forgotten them. It had to be almost noon. She’d been sitting here, bleeding, for hours.

  The entire trip to New York had been full of worries that her monthly would descend while she traveled. It had almost kept her from going. Almost.

  Not even that fear had been strong enough to stop a chance at seeing Bug.

  She’d gone, and her time had stayed at bay.

  And, now Bug was home, but if the bleeding didn’t stop, she’d die before ever becoming Mrs. Brett Quinter.

  Another whinny blew in with the breeze.

  She willed her ears to listen. That one hadn’t sounded like Bracket. The buzzing in her head grew too loud to hear around. The blood soaked material of the gown covering her toes swirled before her eyes. If not cleaned up soon, the blood would permanently stain the wood floor. Eva lifted her face, trying to focus enough to build the strength to yell, hoping the other whinny was Ma or one of the girls.

  Her neck wasn’t strong enough to hold up her head. Moaning, she let her chin fall to her chest.

  Seconds later, she tried lifting it again. Blurred, a human shape filled her open doorway.

  “Eva?”

  “Buff—” She didn’t have the strength to say his name. “Help.”

  Solid arms lifted her. She didn’t have the gumption to protest or worry about the mattress as Buffalo Killer laid her down.

  “Eva,” he said urgently. “I’ve got to put a pillow between your legs.”

  She nodded. He swiftly lifted her gown and placed a pillow between her thighs, and pushed her knees together. “Keep that there.”

  Nodding again, she clutched her stomach as the cramps continued, tearing at her insides with agonizing potency. A few minutes later, the foot of the bed lifted so high she thought she might slip off the other end. The wall behind her head would stop her. Thank goodness because she was too weak to do anything else about it.

  A cloth covered her face. Cool and damp, it was heavenly.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  She didn’t have the wherewithal to answer.

  Eyes closed, she let her mind go blank. The pains gradually lessened. Exhausted, she welcomed the haziness engulfing her.

  The next thing she knew, her heart began to race, in an excited way. She opened her eyes in answer to the voices. Bug stood beside the bed, his hand grasping hers. She returned the hold, grateful he was near. He bent over, and ran a hand along her cheek. “Eva, what happened?”

  A wave rushed over her, bringing tears to her eyes. She couldn’t decipher why the tears appeared.

  Perhaps because she loved Bug so much and his nearness filled her with comfort.

  “Honey, tell me who did this. Tell me what happened.” Worry filled his voice.

  She shook her head, wanted to tell him not to fret. The words wouldn’t form. It was too embarrassing to tell him it was just her time.

  Perhaps once they were married they could discuss such things, but not now.

  Ma appeared over Bug’s shoulder. “Go watch for the doctor, Bug. Let me talk to her.”

  “No,” he said, never taking his eyes from hers.

  Eva closed her eyes and waved a hand, gesturing for him to leave. He shouldn’t see her like this. She didn’t want him to think she was weak or feeble. No man wanted those qualities in a wife.

  �
�You want me to leave?” he asked.

  Without lifting a lid, she nodded.

  His grumbles were too muffled to understand.

  The tears slipped faster from the corners of her eyes.

  They stung her cheeks and her heart as the click of the door closing declared he’d left. She missed him so much.

  Ma asked then, “What happened, Eva?”

  “M-my monthly.” Another bout of cramps hit her stomach, but they’d softened, weren’t nearly as bad as they had been earlier. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

  She let her head sink deep into the pillow again. The worst of it is over. “I don’t need the doctor. I’ll be fine. It’s just the first day that’s this bad,” Eva assured.

  “The first day? Is your monthly always this bad?” Ma asked.

  “This was the worse one ever. But I’m already feeling better.”

  Ma’s hand gently caressed her shoulder with comfort. “You just lie there until the doctor has a look see.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. It’s just—”

  “Eva,” Ma interrupted. “This isn’t right. Not this much blood.”

  Eva snapped her eyes open.

  Ma’s hand, cool and soft, brushed Eva’s hair from her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Ma asked.

  Eva’s stomach tightened, it wasn’t a cramp, but a cold knot of fear. “What do you mean, not right?”

  Someone knocked on the door, and then a man, beanpole tall and with slouching shoulders, walked into the room. A single ring of dark hair circled his head from temple to temple. “Hello, Eva. I’m Doctor Weston. Let’s see what’s happening, shall we?”

  Eva glanced to Ma, looking for aid. Ma, with a supportive yet fretful grimace, nodded.

  Lila elbowed her way around the doctor. “I had him wash already—with soap.”

  Summer, standing near the foot of the bed, added, “We’re all right here, Eva. It’ll be fine.”

  “Excuse me,” Dr. Weston interjected, “I’ll need you all to leave.”

  Eva reached for Ma’s hand. The woman’s grasp was firm as she glanced to the girls. “You girls go on, now.” Her gaze then narrowed as it landed on the doctor. “I’ll be staying.”

  “Mrs. Quinter, that’s highly—”

  “I’ll be staying.” Ma nodded again to Lila and Summer, who slipped from the room after tossing reassuring glances at Eva. “I won’t get in your way, Doctor, but I’m not leaving.”

  He nodded then and made his way around the side of the bed. “Step aside then.”

  Ma walked to the other side of the bed. The hand she laid on Eva’s shoulder relieved a touch of the anxiety rippling Eva’s mind.

  Doctor Weston started asking questions, beginning with how old she’d been when she started menstruating. She answered and he nodded, taking her pulse and listening to her heart while asking other questions about her flow and frequency.

  He then suggested she remove her gown so he could further examine her. Eva looked to Ma for advice.

  Downstairs, pacing the kitchen floor, obsessed by the fact Eva didn’t want him upstairs, Bug spun around when the back door flew open. Jessie raced in like a hen flying the coop.

  “Where is she?” Jessie asked of no one in particular, but glancing to everyone.

  “She’s upstairs with the doctor.” Summer closed the door after Kid made his way in.

  “What happened?” Jessie took Summer’s arms by the elbows.

  Summer shrugged. “She claims it’s just her monthly. But, Jessie, I’ve never seen so much blood.

  Buffalo Killer found her and then came and got us.

  That’s all we know right now.”

  Jessie removed her bonnet, and after hanging it on the hook by the door, she walked toward the arched doorway that led into the front room and the staircase. Nobody tried to stop her, and since she didn’t return, Bug figured she hadn’t been asked to leave Eva’s room. Not like he had.

  He’d just stepped out of the bathing tub when Buffalo Killer rode into the yard. His happiness at seeing the brave quickly turned to alarm when the man said Eva was bleeding to death. Few waited for the wagon Hog started to hitch. Someone must have saddled a horse for Ma, or maybe she’d done it herself, for she arrived in Eva’s yard moments after he leaped from the horse he’d ridden bareback.

  Summer and Buffalo Killer had followed him up the stairs as well. There had been so much blood, he’d thought her dead. At that moment his heart had hit his heels, leaving him empty and hollow from tip to top. She’d moaned then, and he’d rushed to her side, begging her to stay alive.

  Bug had no idea what had gone on around him, nor how long it had been until Eva opened her eyes.

  In that span of time that seemed to have stopped, he’d seen his life without her. It was awful and lonely and the last thing on earth he wanted.

  Chasing the memories from his mind, he stomped to the stove and refilled the coffee cup he’d been holding for what seemed like hours. A kettle of chicken soup bubbled next to the coffee. Randi had set about making it shortly after she’d arrived. He gave the soup a stir and replaced the spoon to the plate Randi had it resting on. His brothers and their wives sat around the table, talking softly. Snake had gone for the doctor, and now mentioned how the man had just delivered Rodney Zimmerman’s second child. While he’d been out east, Rodney had married a gal from Finney County.

  So many things had changed during his absence.

  Evidentially it included him and Eva. How was he going to make it up to her? Make her see he was still the same person.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs had him rushing to the front room. Jessie paused on the staircase. “You need to come up here, Bug.”

  He bolted and arrived in Eva’s bedroom mere seconds later. She wore a different gown. This one was pink with white stripes and a little red bow tied beneath her chin. The bedding had been changed, too. Crimson blood no longer dominated the room.

  The foot of the bed was still propped up with two cast iron pots, making Eva lay downhill. Bug went to her side, kneeling next to the bed. Even pale and sickly, she was beautiful. So beautiful and so very precious it took his breath away.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” she answered. A soft, but strained smile curled her lips as she wrapped her fingers around his. “Mr. Quinter,” the doctor shot a guarded look at Ma, “you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  Bug’s nerve endings exploded. He glanced to his mother standing on the other side of the bed. Staid, she stared back. Bug squeezed Eva’s hand harder, and kissing the delicate hairs of her brows, whispered, “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. I’ll be here for you. Always.”

  Eva closed her eyes. The single tear slipping from one corner singed his heart. Taking a breath, preparing for what was to come, Bug turned to the doctor. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “My physical examination has revealed a tumor.” The doctor’s tone was gravely serious. “A large one. It’s hard and smooth and slightly mobile within the uterus. I believe it will continue to grow rapidly. I recommend immediate removal.”

  Bug said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Well, then do it.”

  “I can’t,” the doctor said, shaking his bald head.

  “She needs an Obstetric Surgeon. They specialize in women’s aliments. There’s a very good one in Wichita. He’s performed this type of surgery several times and has experienced excellent mortality rates.”

  “Mortality rates?” Bug gulped. His heart beat in his throat, plugging his airway.

  “Yes. It’s a very serious operation,” the doctor confirmed.

  “Isn’t there something else you can do?” Bug grabbed the headboard with his spare hand, keeping himself from toppling.

  The doctor rubbed his jaw. “No, I’m afraid not.

  She’s going to continue to experience episodes like today, and there’s nothi
ng I can do about it.” He pointed to the bed. “Whoever propped the bed up probably saved her from hemorrhaging to death today.”

  Bug went ice cold and started to sweat at the same time. “Well, then, get a hold of that doctor and get him out here.”

  “Eva will have to go to him. I can contact him to see when he can schedule her. She’ll need to remain in Wichita for six to eight weeks, I would assume.

  But first she needs to recover from today’s episode.

  She’s extremely anemic. I’ve explained she needs to eat fresh, raw beef liver as often as possible to increase her iron levels.”

  Quivering at the thought of anyone having to eat raw liver, Bug patted the back of Eva’s hand that was clenching his other one. “When can she travel?

  Get a hold of that doctor and tell him we’re on our way as soon as possible.”

  The doctor glanced between Eva and Ma.

  Neither said anything for a few stilled seconds. “The surgery will include a hysterectomy,” the doctor said.

  “What’s that?” Bug asked when everyone held their silence.

  “The removal of all her reproductive organs.

  After the surgery, Eva will never be able to have children.” The doctor glanced at Eva. “She wanted you to know before she makes her decision.” His gaze then went to Ma. “Let’s leave these two alone for a moment.”

  Bug watched them leave. He had no idea what to say. The wind blew in through the window, rustling the curtain beside the bed and tickling the back of his neck. It was easy to ignore. The doctor’s news, however, was not easy to disregard. It weighted the air like a pending storm.

  The click of the door closing seemed like hours ago, when Eva said, “Bug?”

  He planted his knees on the floor, and still holding her hand, laid his arms on the edge of the mattress. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

  “Doctor Weston says there’s a chance it won’t keep growing. That I might have a baby if I don’t have the surgery.” The pain in her voice stabbed his heart.