Daniel listened to Richard’s chest, and he knew his dear longtime friend was near the end. He bowed his head in sorrow, asking the Lord to guide them.
“Richard, I have done all I can,” Daniel said brokenly, “but I’ll keep trying as long as it takes.”
He began to drain Richard’s lungs again as Ruth returned, determined to help. Together they drained each lung and filled the glass bottles.
Finally, Daniel turned to her. “Ruth, I need you to sit for a moment,” he said, seeing the anguish in her face. “We’ve been draining Richard’s lungs and there is still much fluid. There is also infection.”
His heart broke as he saw her expression crumble.
“He’s going to make it, Daniel,” Ruth insisted. “I know he’ll make it.”
“I’m sorry, Ruth,” Daniel told her, feeling as though his chest could implode. “I fear he will not survive.”
“So, you mean we just give up?” Ruth snapped, jumping to her feet. “You promised to not give up!”
“Even Richard knows that his time is up, that soon he will be with the Lord.” Daniel swallowed hard and realized he needed to be strong for her. Despite the strength and determination she displayed, he wondered if she could accept that sometimes it was alright to be vulnerable, and perfectly natural to feel helpless. He knew she was hurting too, just as he was.
“Ruth, even I struggle with the fact that I can’t save everyone I treat. It’s not always possible.” Daniel closed his eyes and paused. He opened them to the sight of Ruth trying to drain Richard’s lungs again and filling another bottle.
“Stop now, Ruth,” Daniel told her gently, “it’s too late. He’s gone.” She looked at him, uncomprehending.
“What? What do you mean he’s gone?” She looked at Richard; his eyes were closed, and on his face was an expression of peace. Absent were the sounds of the wheezing, rattling, and gurgling in Richard’s chest. His breathing had ceased.
“No, no, no!” Ruth cried out and pressed her hands on his chest. “Help me, Daniel, we can get him to breathe, just help me!”
Daniel drew her into his arms and held her tightly as she sobbed her grief. He understood her pain, as well as the pain Mary and Tom would feel when he told them the news. No one would ever see that perennially cheerful face or hear Richard Bloomer’s lighthearted jokes again.
Daniel rested his chin on Ruth’s head and shed a few tears of his own at the loss of his good friend.
“Ruth, he is at peace now. Richard is no longer suffering. He is free now.” Daniel’s voice caught, and he allowed himself the comfort of holding her in his arms, rocking slightly together as they silently mourned their loss.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ruth appreciated his gesture of compassion while distress overwhelmed her. She wondered why Richard had to die. She knew they had all done everything they could to help him, but somehow she felt it had not been enough. She had felt the same way about her father when he passed away. While she felt comforted by Daniel’s words, she still felt pain clutch at her heart. Was it for Richard or her father? Neither was ever going to come back; they were gone forever.
She pulled herself from Daniel’s supportive embrace and wiped her eyes.
“Thank you,” she managed in a shaky voice and noticed his red eyes before he looked away and stood to go over to Richard’s still form. She wondered what he would say to Mary and Tom, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“I think I’ll go for a walk if that’s alright with you,” Ruth murmured. Daniel only nodded and remained silent at Richard’s side.
As Ruth left the ward, she automatically smoothed her skirt and her hair. Her hair felt slightly damp on top, and she realized that moments earlier when they sat with Richard, Daniel’s chin rested on her head. Sudden realization came over her. Her heart ached for Daniel as she understood that in those few quiet minutes after Richard’s death, he had wept for his friend even as he rocked her in his arms. She lightly touched her hair again, breathing around the ache inside her, aching for Daniel’s silent grief. She turned her head and saw Daniel sitting at Richard’s bedside, his chin resting in his palm, eyes closed.
Though her instinct was to return and comfort him as he had her, she hesitated and thought it best to leave him alone with his thoughts.
Ruth left the clinic from the back and walked down the porch steps and around the clinic toward the livery. She wondered about Spark and briefly thought of going in to rub his nose, to comfort herself as much as Daniel’s mount. As she was about to cross the street, she heard someone call her name. She stopped and her heart dropped as Alistair approached her with long-legged strides. He seemed a little out of breath and she wondered if anything had happened.
“Alistair,” Ruth said in surprise. “Is everything alright? You look a little flustered.”
He remained silent for a moment to catch his breath.
“I hoped to reach you before you went outside,” he said and gave her a sympathetic look. Ruth wondered whether his sympathy was sincere or well-rehearsed.
“Is there something for which you need my help?” Ruth asked, and he must have noticed the hesitation in her voice.
“Ah, there is nothing wrong, my dear,” Alistair smiled crookedly. “I heard about how your father passed. You have my deepest condolences. In light of that, it pains me that you witnessed Mr. Bloomer’s similar ordeal.”
“I—I …” Ruth sighed, and her voice trailed away. “I really don’t want to talk about my father or Richard right now, and I would like just to be alone. I hope you understand.”
