Somehow, Ellie had swallowed her pain, but all it did was make Micah want to take it all away. Callie gave a few instructions while Ellie took deep breaths, her hand still firmly in Micah’s. “That’s it, just breathe,” Callie said softly. “We’ll keep it still for a few days, but the pain should be much better now.”
“Thank you. Thank all of you.” Her voice was shaky, twisting the knife in Micah’s gut even further.
“It’s our pleasure,” Callie said. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her professional stoicism still in place. “Ellie, if you’re willing, I’d like you to come stay at the clinic in town with me.I’m a little concerned about your head wound and a potential concussion, and I’ve a bed for times when overnight patients need extra support.”
The thought sent panic rising in Micah once more. How could he take care of her and keep her safe if she was in town? “Why can’t she stay here?” What if Brent hadn’t worked alone? What if someone who worked for her father was looking for her? Letting her out of his sight after he’d already failed her felt unnecessarily risky.
Jacob still stared at the floor, refusing to look at the doctor who once broke his heart, nor the patient as he answered. “Because Ellie needs a physician to keep an eye on her until we know exactly how her wounds are going to behave, as well as watch to make sure her concussion is healing. This will keep Dr. Thorn from having to go back and forth so often. Plus, Louisa’s busy with the children, and we’re all busy with the ranch. We don’t exactly have constant care around here.”
Micah sighed, trying to take in the logic of his brother’s statement. It wasn’t ideal, but they were right. There wasn’t round-the-clock care at the ranch, and they had no way to treat her in an emergency. “All right, but I’d like to go with you and help you get settled at the clinic.”
Ellie’s eyes widened, still glassy from her ordeal. “Oh, you don’t have to-”
“If you don’t want me there, I’ll stay here, but I’d like to come to make sure you get settled all right if you’ll allow me.” As though his free hand had a mind of its own, Micah reached up and smoothed a lock of Ellie’s blonde hair behind her ear. He saw Callie studying him out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the woman before him. Was there any world in which this woman might one day grow to trust him?
Ellie swallowed, but at least she didn’t seem terrified of him. “All right. Umm, the man who captured me. What happened to him?”
“He’s dead,” Micah growled, unable to help himself. There was a part of him, the part knowing exactly how lost he’d be without the Lord, who’d like to bring the man back to life only to kill him again. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
Chapter Three
Ellie woke days later to the sunshine streaming through the patient room of the clinic on a clear blue day. Callie had gone to church earlier, but she and Pastor Jim had told Ellie they’d be back with lunch in a few hours. In the meantime, Ellie had managed to nap for a few hours. Her headache was still there faintly, and she couldn’t quite manage to read for long yet. Callie’s presence in the clinic and her near constant influx of visitors had been a comfort and welcome distraction from the long days and nights.
At least, her arm didn’t throb and make her feel sick to her stomach anymore. It was still sore, but absolutely nothing compared to what it had been during her day in the mineshaft. She’d spent the whole time fighting to stay conscious and keep what little nourishment and fluid she still had in her stomach inside. As soon as the agony of having the joint put back in place wore off, it was as though a blanket of relief had been draped over her. Now, it was only the demons of her mind she fought, inaddition to her concussion and occasionally the wounds on her back.
Between Louisa, a sweet lady from their church she’d met named Florence Day, and Micah’s near daily trips to visit her, she’d barely had time to dwell on all which led her to the clinic’s patient bed. At least, not during the day.
The nights were still plagued with memories and nightmares of her being pulled off the street in California by Brent and a couple of his buddies.
The days he’d held her in a shack while they figured out their plan.
Her fear over what they’d do to her and their absolute cruelty in describing what they’d like to do.
The rough handling and bare minimum food they’d given her until the day she and Brent left California.
The moment he’d paid off the railyard employee to look the other way as they stowed passage on the train bound for Dallas and the glimmer of hope she’d felt when she briefly lost him during their disembarkation only to have him find her moments later.
The hopelessness she’d felt in the campsite north of the Sutton ranch as he’d hit her time and time again for nothing more than existing. He’d leave for hours at a time, particularly in the evenings, and come back smelling of liquor. Where exactly he found his vice, she didn’t know, but it only served to make him meaner.
Forcing down a shudder and the rising nausea and the memories, Ellie took deep breaths and tried to place herself back in the present moment. She was here. She was safe. The Lord brought her out of the fiery furnace, and she had to believe He’d been with her the whole time. Miss Lutken had always promised He would, and Ellie knew Miss Lutken had known they’d oneday be parted once she finished her schooling. The dear woman had imparted everything she could before she left.
The clinic’s patient room had a little bit of art on the walls, art Ellie loved to study in her hours she’d spend resting. One of them was a beautiful landscape view of what she had to imagine was a meadow around Cloverdale. It had a creek running through it and groves of wildflowers in the background. The other was a more abstract piece, but studying the deep earthy colors and trying to extract the meaning from the piece had occupied her for far longer than she cared to admit.
Would it be possible for her to paint again once her shoulder was healed? Could she ever bring herself to share her art with someone other than herself? She could well be awful at it, but Mama and Miss Lutken had always spoken so highly of her work. Then again, they were the only people in her life who’d ever sought to build her up, perhaps that was all they were doing.
The bell above the clinic’s door jingled, but it wasn’t Callie who appeared at the door to the patient room. It was Micah. For once, he didn’t have Pastor Jim or someone else with him, though his face was flushed with something - had he run here? “Micah, has something happened?”
“It’s all taken care of now,” he said as he entered the patient room and pulled out the chair near her bed. “Pastor Jim said he’d come by in a bit to play chaperone, but he got delayed at church.” His jaw tightened, clearly unhappy with whatever had happened. “Aiden O’Sullivan, the father of the boy Jamie who passed away from the infection, came storming into the churchyard after service this morning. He blames Callie for Jamie’s death.”
Ellie gasped, heart hurting for her friend as she thought of how broken Callie had been coming back from that call. “He was hours from death before she even got there. Even hisbrothers who came to fetch her said he was in a bad way.” Callie hadn’t shared much with her, but she’d gathered much from the woman’s pain when she’d returned that night. Plus, she’d heard her sharing a bit with Pastor Jim, as well as Callie’s sobs as he murmured softly to her. The sound of a father comforting a daughter, a pair who clearly loved one another very much, had both made her grateful Callie had such a thing and sad Ellie never would for herself.
“I know,” Micah replied as he removed his Stetson to reveal the same dark brown hair as his brothers. “He’s grieving, out of his mind with it, and he’d clearly been drinking. Jacob kept him from hitting Callie when he tried, and she’s stitching Jacob up now.”
Memories of how mean her grandfather would become after drinking crashed over her. “Liquor is an awful substance. I don’t know if I could ever trust a man who partook.” She knew there were those who drank without drinking to excess, but all the problems she’d ever had at the hands of men had all been exacerbated by drinking. “I’ve seen too much.”
Micah’s eyes softened, and he watched her carefully. “Would you tell me about your life in California? I haven’t wanted to push, but I guess there are a lot of gaps I’d like to fill to know more about you.”
Could she tell him everything? Where would she even start? The beginning seemed like as good a place as any, but it was quite the tale. “I was an illegitimate baby. I have never met my father, though my mother knew who he was. She’d grown up in a home with a cruel father, and she’d left at eighteen with the first man who made her feel like she belonged - like she mattered. It turned out, he only wanted her for the fortune of my grandfather’s mines, but Grandfather wasn’t about to turn over his money to the man who’d gotten his daughter pregnant out of wedlock. The moment he realized this, he took off.”
