Wildcat Bride Page 14

Still clenching his jaw, Bug reached over the woman’s arm, and grabbed Eva’s hand. “Excuse me,”

  he said, shouldering his way in. “I’ll help her down.”

  “That’s not necessary. We got her. Are you Mr.

  Houston?” The second one wanted to know.

  “No, I’m Mr. Quinter, her hus—” Bug cut himself off short. He already thought of himself as her husband, wished he was, but he couldn’t flat out lie. Eva laid a hand on his shoulder, and he nudged himself between the women and the buggy to lift her down.

  She trembled beneath his fingers, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as soon as her feet touched the street. He turned to the women.

  “Excuse us for a moment.”

  The women looked at one another before they stepped back up on the boardwalk, giving him and Eva a touch of privacy.

  “There’s nothing to fear. I’ll be right here the whole time.” He kissed her forehead.

  She sighed, leaning against his touch. “I know.

  It’s just happening so quickly.”

  “Do you want to wait a day or so? I’m sure we could arrange that.” Or Jack could, he added silently.

  She shook her head, but her hands wrapped around his waist. “No, it’s better this way. I’d only fret if we waited.”

  He’d fret no matter what, already was, but couldn’t let her know that. “Then let’s get you inside and settled for the night.”

  The driver was back up in the buggy, and Ma stood with the two women by the door. Bug kept Eva enveloped in his arms as they stepped onto the boardwalk and then walked toward the door.

  One woman held Eva’s bag while the other stepped forward. “We’ll take her from here.”

  “No,” Bug nodded toward Ma, “we’ll see her inside.”

  “You can’t, sir. Visiting hours are over. You can come see her in a day or two.” The woman was shorter than Ma, and just as stout, but much younger.

  Eva’s hold tightened on his waist. She sucked air in so hard he heard the wheeze. He wished he could have the surgery for her. This was too much for her. She’s was too fragile.

  “Excuse us,” he said, spinning Eva about. Near the brick wall, where the shadows provided them an ounce of privacy, he stopped and took a hold of her face. Looking deep into her sweet, big eyes, he offered, “We can leave.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “We’ve came all this way.”

  His mind attempted to conjure up solutions, as it had a million times today. “I wish there was something else we could do, but we both know that’s not the case.” He kissed her brow. “I’ll be here in the morning. They won’t be able to keep me out.”

  A tiny smile curled her lips. “That I believe.”

  “Believe it forever, Eva. I love you. I have for years, and while I was gone, it grew stronger and stronger.” He was putting his heart on his sleeve, but he didn’t care. It was the truth, and he wanted her to know it.

  “I love you, too, Bug. I always, always will.”

  He kissed her, a soft tender kiss that left him bleeding inside. He loved her so much. The thought of going on without her was unimaginable. As soon as he got to the hotel he’d wire Jack if that’s what it took for little miss haughty to let him through those doors in the morning.

  Eva wished the taste of his lips could stay on hers forever. Pressing her face into his shirt, willing the tears to remain behind her closed lids, she clung to him with all her might. The hardest thing about this whole surgery escapade was the affect it had on others. She was causing Bug more worries than he deserved. All of the Quinter’s for that matter. There wasn’t a way she’d be able to make it up to them.

  Straightening her shoulders, searching for an ounce of bravery, she released her hold on him. “You and Ma have to be tired. You go to the hotel, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hoped her assurance didn’t sound as weak as it felt.

  “Bright and early,” he said, before he brushed his lips to hers again. The love she felt in the merger made her want to beg him to take her home.

  She broke away from the kiss. “Bye, Bug,” she whispered and then bolted for the door before she couldn’t.

  Chapter Twelve

  Her stomach was on fire, as was her head. Her limbs shook, and the sweat beading on her skin made her shiver with chill. A moan slipped over her vocal cords. The vibration stung. Eva attempted to swallow and sooth the burning, but her tongue and throat were swollen and wouldn’t work. Her heart fluttered, fearful the fire would consume her.

  “Here, sip this,” an unknown voice said.

  Pressure formed against her lips.

  She opened her mouth, and something tepid and pungent flowed over her tongue. It dripped into her throat, and made her cringe at the pain it caused.

  “A little more,” the voice insisted.

  There was no stopping the bitter drops. Eva willed herself not to gag. It was no use. A convulsion ripped across her throat at the same time a spasm revolted in her stomach. The pain was intense as her body expelled the small amount she’d consumed.

  Thankfully the reaction was short lived.

  Afterwards, she fought to stay awake. Bug? She needed Bug.

  His voice came then, soft and caring it filtered into her ears, gently vibrating into her consciousness. Trying to stay alert, she lifted a hand.

  Warm fingers wrapped around hers. The comfort was so great she let the darkness surrounding her come closer.

  She had several such episodes, where she tried to wake, but an overbearing force was too strong for her to break through. Each time, there was a hand holding hers, and she’d accept the comfort and flutter back down the tunnel as soft whispers sounded in her ears.

  When at last she had the strength to break through the barrier, pain sat on her stomach like a heavy bucket. The dull, steady ache was a relief compared to the earlier fire. Eva drew in a breath, and let it out slowly.

  “Hey.”

  Bug’s soft voice filled her heart with sunshine.

  His hand tightened around hers as she tugged her eyes open.

  “Hi,” she greeted. He was as handsome as ever, sitting beside her bed as if he didn’t have anywhere else to be.

  The smile on his face revealed nothing of the worry that his eyes couldn’t hide. “Here, let me get you some water.”

  She shook her head, squeezing his fingers and not wanting him to leave for even a second. His hair was mussed and his shirt wrinkled. “You’ve been here for awhile.”

  “I told you I’d be here.”

  A sheet covered her stomach and she carefully touched the area with her free hand. The heavy weight was invisible, and her touch didn’t increase the pain. “The surgery?”

  “Went well,” he said, laying his other hand on top of hers. “But you spiked a fever, you’ve been very sick for the past few days.”

  “The past few days?” Time held no memory for her. “Didn’t I just have the surgery this morning?”

  “No,” his whisper was very soft. “It’s been four days, honey.”

  The darkness of the room registered, and the window revealed the lazy glow of the moon. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

  “Of course.” The simple statement held conviction. “How do you feel? Should I get someone?”

  She shook her head. “You’re here.”

  “Yes, I am.” He brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You sound sleepy.”

  “I am.”

  “Then rest. We can talk later.” His chin sat softly on her shoulder as his forehead rested against her temple. The soothing, calm touch encouraged her to close her eyes. Knowing he’d be there when she woke, she drifted into a healing sleep.

  Hours later she awoke again. Sunlight sparkled against the white ceiling, but it was the pressure on her stomach that had roused her out of the deep sleep. Two hands were settled on her stomach, she followed the arms connected to them until her gaze met those of a tall blond haired
man.

  “Hello, Miss Reynolds. I’m Doctor Robb.” The man straightened, removing his hands from her stomach. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.” Her mind tossed about and she added, “I think. It’s all kind of a blur.” She took in the rest of the room. A woman with a long, white apron stood on her other side, but otherwise the room was empty. Her heart beat increased.

  The woman patted Eva’s hand. “Don’t worry.

  Your friends are right outside the door. They had to leave while Dr. Robb performs his examination.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Eva answered. Her eyes then landed on a small table near the window. Several bouquets of flowers, in all colors, shapes and sizes, filled the top.

  “Miss Reynolds,” Dr. Robb said. “I’m going to remove your drain tubes. It shouldn’t hurt overly much, but you will feel a sting. Hold on to Mrs.

  French’s hand tightly, and try not to flinch, all right?”

  The woman took a hold of Eva’s hand as she answered, “All right.”

  The sting was strong, and she sucked in air, absorbing it as it raced across her stomach.

  “That’s it. Lie still. There’s one more,” the doctor instructed.

  Eva kept her eyes on the flowers. Studying the big red roses as she would a scene she wanted to paint. She imagined how to roll her brush to make the petals appear velvety, and the colors she’d need to mix to create the tiny paler thorns on the thick green stems.

  “Good girl,” the doctor praised. “Just a bit longer. I need to examine the wound.”

  Focusing on the flowers, she felt his hands on her bare midriff, but didn’t allow her mind to veer from the plants. Daisies sat amongst the roses, as did carnations and mums. Pinks and yellows and pale lavenders, the flowers spoke to her, telling her which ones needed to be painted first to allow the others to be spotlighted in the final picture she created to be painted someday when she returned home.

  “All done,” Dr. Robb said.

  The woman let go of Eva’s hand and tugged her gown down and the sheet up.

  Eva turned from the flowers then, to glance at the doctor. His blue eyes twinkled, and he winked before he walked across the room. There he splashed his hands in a basin and wiped them on a towel before he came back to stand beside her bed. “You can tell Mrs. Quinter I washed thoroughly, before and after.”

  He sat on the chair then. “Let me tell you what’s happened.”

  She nodded.

  “I had to perform a complete hysterectomy. The tumor was larger than either Dr. Weston or I imagined. You must have been in terrible pain lately.”

  “Some,” she admitted.

  “Well, I removed everything, so there’s nothing left for it to grow back. I’ve found that to be most effective. The surgery went remarkably well. You did spike a fever afterwards, which isn’t unusual, and that’s also why I wanted to remove the drain tubes as soon as possible. We don’t want to worry about infection setting in. We're going to keep you here for a few more days, and then we’ll transfer you to the convalescence hall. I’d like to see you remain there for at least another week before we release you to a home.”

  “A home?” The way he said it made her question the term.

  “Yes, Mr. Houston says he’ll arrange for you to be taken to one of the recovery homes. You’ll have private care until you are fully recuperated.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “No more than six weeks would be my guess at this time. But some of it is a waiting game. Some patients make complete recoveries. Other’s need a second surgery.”

  “What for?”

  He shrugged. “Different things. Usually it’s infection. But I’ve discovered the faster we remove the drain tubes, the less chance there is of infection.”

  She settled her hands lightly on her stomach.

  Dr. Robb gently patted her fingers. “You’re going to be stiff and sore. The incision is quite large and will take some time to heal. But you’re young and very healthy. Actually, you are the youngest patient I’ve performed this surgery on, so I’m carefully monitoring your recovery for my medical journal.”

  “So it’s all gone?” she asked in a whisper. “I’ll never have children?”

  He took a hold of one hand. “I thought that was explained to you before you arrived.”

  “It was,” she admitted. “I was just wondering if…”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Reynolds. But there really wasn’t an option in your case. What Dr. Weston said is true. You’ll never bear children.”

  An overwhelming, emptiness filled her so quickly her eyes and nose stung. The tears she cried at home, with Bug lying on the bed beside her, renewed themselves. Deep down there had been a little ounce of hope that had said things might turn out differently. That little bit was gone now, leaving her hollow inside and out.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Reynolds. Do you have any other questions I can answer for you?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow then.” He stood, and patted her hand one more time before he removed his hand from hers. “I’ll send your family in.” “No,” she choked.

  “No? They’re right outside the door.”

  She shook her head. “I’d like to be alone for a few minutes.”

  He rubbed his jaw and looked at the other woman, Mrs. French. The woman patted Eva’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with her for a few minutes, Doctor. You can tell the family I’ll let them in when she’s ready.”

  “All right, Mrs. French, thank you.” The doctor’s exit was finalized by the click of the door.

  Eva wanted to tell Mrs. French she could leave, too, but something told her the woman wouldn’t go.

  She turned back to the flowers, begging them to absorb her attention again. It was to no avail.

  Painting the flowers no longer appealed to her.

  Outside Eva’s door, Bug paced the hall. The doctor had been in her room for over an hour. When the man strolled into the room earlier, Bug had refused to leave, as he had every day since the morning of her surgery. Today, Dr. Robb had insisted. He said he couldn’t remove the drain tubes with others in the room, and after the man had explained that if he didn’t remove them soon, infection might set in, Bug had no choice but to comply.

  The past four days had been agonizing. He’d been afraid to close his eyes, let alone leave her room. The chance of her slipping away, never waking, was too real of an issue. He’d sat beside her bed, afraid he might miss something even in the blink of an eye lid. So he’d watched. Watched her sleep, watched her breathe, and knew he’d spend the rest of his life watching her, for he didn’t want to miss another moment.

  And now he was. He had no idea what was going on in that room. He stomped to the door, and reached for the knob. Before he clutched the glass handle, the door swung open. Stepping forward, Bug caught a glimpse of Eva lying on the bed. He stalled for a moment, which was long enough for Dr. Robb to step into the hallway and push the door shut behind him.

  “How’d it go?” Jack Houston asked, jumping from the chair he’d taken a few feet away from the door.

  Dr. Robb braced an arm on the door jamb, preventing anyone from entering the room. “Good,”

  he said. “Real, real good. No infection. Everything is healing. I’m confident her recovery will be complete and quick.”

  “Is she awake?” Bug asked, wanting to shove the man aside.

  “Yes, but she’s asked for a few minutes alone.”

  Dr. Robb shifted, but didn’t move away from the door. “She’s upset in learning she won’t bear children, which is to be expected. You need to give her some time to get used to the idea. It’s mentally challenging. Women have an inner sense that their purpose on earth is solely to procreate. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard women have gone mad after hysterectomies, believing their lives are over, and others who have refused to have the surgery for that same reason.”

 
; “That’s crazy,” Bug said. “I don’t care if she can’t have babies.”

  “It’s not for you to care, young man,” Dr. Robb said, not unkindly, but to the point. “It’s Eva who cares. And it’s Eva who needs to accept it.”

  Bug bowed his head, awash with guilt at putting his feelings before Eva’s. The doctor patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. That won’t help her either.” He turned to Jack then. “I’ve explained that once she’s well enough, you’ve arranged for her care to happen in a care home.”

  That made Bug snap his head up. “I’ll care for her.” “Once she’s back at her place maybe, but while she’s in Wichita she’ll have the best care I can find, Bug.” Jack’s demand held no room for argument.

  Once again Bug realized how insignificant he was to Eva. Would there ever come a day when she needed him? Would he ever have something he could offer or provide her that no one else could?

  Bug turned back to the doctor. “She’s healing though? There’s no complications or infection or anything else we need to worry about?”

  Dr. Robb offered an assuring grin. “No, nothing else. She’s doing remarkably well. She’s young and healthy. I don’t foresee her having any other issues in the near future.” The doctor patted his shoulder again. “I knew you’d be upset when you couldn’t go right back in, but be patient. Give her a little time, and all will be fine.”

  Bug nodded, since there was nothing else he could do.

  “Where’s your mother?” Dr Robb asked, somewhat cautiously.

  “She went back to the hotel for a bit,” Jack answered.

  “Good. Be sure to tell her I washed with soap and water, before and after the examination.”

  Jack grinned. “We will, Dr. Robb, and thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Bug repeated, shameful of being remiss. He offered his hand. “Thank you very much.”

  The doctor shook both his and Jack’s hands as he said, “You’re welcome. I’m sure I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Laughing he added, “And every day Miss Reynolds is here.”

  The man made his way down the hall then, and Bug stared at the door, wishing he could push it open, but knowing he couldn’t. After a few minutes, Jack slapped him on the back. “I’m going to go take your mother out to lunch. I’d ask you to join us, but I know you won’t go. I know you’re the one she’ll want to see when she’s ready, so give Eva my love and tell her I’ll see her this afternoon.”