Amon (21 page)

“Ladies, let’s begin, shall we?” Mary Mulligan called before Nettie could think of what to tell Sadie. She sighed in relief and sat back in her chair as Mary continued. “This is a new week and today we start a new project.” She looked at Nettie and smiled. “I think we all know what it’s going to be.”

Nettie sat up straight. “Oh, no … I mean, nothing is set.”

“Nonsense!” Grandma Waller quipped. “You and Amon gotta get hitched sometime. Ya might as well let us sew your dress up so it’s ready when ya do!”

“I second that!” Irene Dunnigan declared. “No use wasting our time or yours.”

“But …” Nettie said as she glanced around the circle. “There’s no guarantee Mr. Cotter and I will marry!”

“That doesn’t matter,” Fanny said with a wave of her hand. “If not Mr. Cotter, some other man will take you on. Of course, you’ll have to learn how to cook and sew, but if your cousins could do it …”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “Some of us learned quicker than others.” She turned to Nettie. “But she’s right – you just have to learn a little at a time.”

Nettie felt her stomach go cold. She looked around the circle again, not saying anything yet. No, she wanted Amon to know first. “Very well.”

“Ah, this’ll be grand!” Mary said, and began to instruct the others. But the woman’s words faded as thoughts of Amon entered Nettie’s mind. She tried to envision herself being courted by another, but her mind’s eye was incapable of conjuring up anything but Amon standing by a juniper tree and giving a branch a gentle caress …

She swallowed hard. Good grief, had she fallen in love with a lunatic? Of all the things she’d thought about before coming to the mercantile,
that
was the most unsettling. But perhaps only a madman would consider her for marriage …

“Would you like long or short lace at the collar?”

Nettie shook herself from her thoughts when she realized the question was directed at her. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about it much,” she told Annie King, the preacher’s wife.

“Well, you’d better start thinking about it!” Mrs. Dunnigan barked. “It’s your dress!”

Nettie rubbed her temples with her fingers, eyes closed. “Yes, yes, I know. I apologize, I’m not quite myself today.” She stopped, every muscle suddenly tight with anticipation. She opened her eyes and knew,
knew
that Amon was near. How? But her heart raced with the thought.

“Short or long, both look good,” her cousin Lena said. “Maybe those with more experience can work on the dress and the rest of us could work on the wedding quilt?”

“That’s a good idea,” Grandma agreed. “That way they’ll both be done in time.” Everyone nodded in agreement then looked at Nettie.

It was all she could do to sit still as her anticipation of seeing Amon grew. She swallowed hard. “What?” came out a squeak.

“What do
you
think?” Mrs. Dunnigan demanded.

Nettie’s eyes drifted to the mercantile doors. “Yes, fine, fine …” Someone was coming up the porch steps. She could hear their boots loud and clear, as if her sense of hearing was suddenly more acute. She licked her lips without thinking as her breathing picked up. Good grief, what brought this on?

The doors flung open …

“Howdy, ladies!” Cutty greeted happily. “Hey, Mrs. Dunnigan – got any licorice whips?”

Nettie’s shoulders slumped in disappointment as she sank in her chair.

“Do I look like I’m minding the counter?” Mrs. Dunnigan snapped. “Wilfred!”

Footsteps could be heard hurrying up the back hall, and Mr. Dunnigan popped out from behind the curtain separating the front and back of the building. “What is it, Irene? What’s the trouble?”

“Cutty wants to buy something,” she huffed. “You
do
have money, don’t you?”

“Yep,” he drawled sweetly and smiled.

Imogene covered her mouth with a hand to keep from laughing. Cutty turned his smile on her before going to the counter so Wilfred could wait on him. Within moments he was chewing on a piece of licorice while the women decided who was going to work on Nettie’s dress and who would work on the quilt.

Nettie herself, however, couldn’t take her eyes off the doors. Amon was in town, he had to be. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. But where was he? And should she be so excited to see him? After all, when she did, she was going to have to tell him the truth.

Twenty

“My schedule is open,” Preacher Jo told Amon with a smile. “I can marry you and Miss Whitman anytime.”

“Thank you,” Amon told him and slumped to the porch.

“Hey now!” Preacher Jo said in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Amon held up a hand. “Give me a moment.” He got on one knee and grabbed the porch railing with a hand to keep him from falling on his face. “I think maybe I’d better go see Doc Drake after this.”

“Are you feeling faint? I could run and fetch him.”

Amon shook his head slowly. “I can make it. I think I’ve got some kind of illness, but don’t know what.”

Preacher Jo waited as Amon pulled himself to his feet. “What are your symptoms?”

“It hits out of the blue, but that was the worst incident. I can’t think straight, I feel weak …”

“Has anyone else around you displayed these symptoms?”

“No … not that I’ve noticed. And the only ones I’ve been around of late have been Cutty, Miss Whitman and her brother.”

“I’d best go check on them and see if they’re feeling the same. Could be you picked up something from the Whitmans - they did just come from Europe, after all. Doc Drake would know more about it than me, but I know it can happen.”

Amon’s eyes widened. The thought that something could take Nettie down, take her away from him, made his heart lurch in his chest. “I have to see Miss Whitman. Right away. If you’ll excuse me, Preacher Jo.”

“But what about Doc Drake?”

“He can wait! I have to know Miss Whitman is all right!” He staggered to his horse, mounted it unsteadily and raced off.

Preacher Jo let out a whistle. “Well, I know of one thing that ails him,” he chuckled. “Lovesick fool. I hope he remembers to see Doc Drake later.” He went inside to get his hat, then go find Cutty and Newton to see how they were. That last thing Clear Creek needed was some sort of epidemic.

* * *

Amon reached the mercantile, tied Manuel to a hitching post and, taking a deep breath, headed up the stairs. It was all he could do to stay upright, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was ailing him. He’d check on Nettie, then go straight to Doc Drake.

His chest tight, he opened the door and went inside. As soon as he entered one of the women gasped. Nettie! His chest relaxed at the sight of her and he could feel his strength returning in waves. He took a step toward her, two …

“What are you doing in here, Mr. Cotter?” Mrs. Dunnigan snapped. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”

He ignored her, his only thought to get to Nettie. For some unexplainable reason, he needed to touch her. His breath was shaky, his jaw trembling, his head light …

Nettie stood. “Amon? What’s wrong?”

He reached her, took her hands in his – and relief washed over him. He studied her, and saw she looked pale. “I had to see if you were all right.”

“I’m … I’m fine.”

“Land sakes, save it for after the wedding!” Grandma scolded. “We’re trying to work here!”

Amon nodded in acknowledgement, but his focus was on Nettie. “I’m sorry, but … I’m not feeling well and I had to know how you were doing.”

“I … well, I didn’t feel well this morning either, truth be told.”

Fanny Fig, who had been sitting next to Nettie, scooted her chair away. “Why’d you come in here then?”

Amon ignored her. “Where’s your brother? Is he feeling all right?”

“I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“What about Cutty?”

“I feel fine,” Cutty said from across the room, a licorice whip in his mouth. “What’s ailing ya?”

“I … I don’t know,” he gasped and took a step back.

“Amon!” Nettie cried in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

He gripped her arms and without warning pulled her close. A groan escaped him at the contact and he tightened his hold, as if letting her go would be the death of him. But why? Then it hit him: what if he
did
die? What if he’d contracted some rare disease from Europe and the others were immune to it? Worse, what if he wasn’t the only one susceptible? “Nettie, we need to see Doc Drake …”

“Let go of her at once!” Fanny cried. “How indecent! Why, you’re not even married!”

“Shut up, Fanny, you harebrain!” Mrs. Dunnigan said as she got up. “Can’t you see something’s wrong?” She turned to Amon. “Merciful heavens, get out of my store and take her with you! Now!”

Wilfred shoved past her and rushed over to Amon, Cutty right behind him. “C’mon, son, I’ll help get ya over to Doc’s house. Grandma, you’d better come too.”

“Will do,” she said and stood. “Both the doctors are in so between the two of them, they should be able to figure out what ails ya.” She gave Amon a wide berth as she headed for the door.

“Who knows how contagious it is!” Fanny cried as she reached the doors.

Nettie looked into Amon’s eyes. “What’s going to happen?”

Amon’s face was pained. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I think I’d die if something were to happen to you.”

Her eyes widened. “Amon …,” she whispered.

He let one of his arms fall away, the other he kept around her. “Let’s go.”

Wilfred and Cutty stood ready to help if need be. Imogene got up and joined them. “I’m going too.”

“Imogene, no,” Cutty told her. “If’n this is somethin’ bad, I don’t want you to catch it. I’ve been around these two an awful lot, which means … well, I might have it too.”

“Which is why I’m joining you! I’ve seen my share of disease and sickness in India, maybe I can help.”

Cutty studied her a moment, weighing the possibilities. She might be a help at that. Besides, he knew how stubborn the woman could be – even if he demanded she stay in the mercantile, she’d probably come along anyway. “Oh, all right, but stay out in the parlor. If’n Doc Drake or Waller wants to ask ya somethin’, they can go to the parlor to do it.”

“Fine,” she said and together, the little group left the mercantile for the Drakes’ and Wallers’ home.

Once inside, Grandma went straight to the kitchen. “Bowen!”

Bowen Drake looked up from the kitchen table, a cup of coffee halfway to his lips. “Grandma, is something wrong?” He looked past her to the group in the hall and jumped up from the table. Amon was being supported by Cutty and Wilfred. “Put him in the patient room, now.”

They guided Amon through the kitchen and into the room beyond, where they laid him on the bed while Doc Drake gathered what he’d need to examine him. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” Grandma told him. “He was fine, then he almost fell over.”

“Amon?” Doc Drake asked.

“Nettie …” Amon breathed. “Take care of Nettie.”

Doc Drake turned and looked at Nettie. “You too? What’s wrong?”

She gave him a helpless shrug. “I feel a little strange, but nothing like Amon.”

“Sit down just in case,” he instructed her, pointing to a chair by the bed. “How long has he been like this?”

“Just a few minutes, I believe,” she said and sat.

“What are your symptoms?”

“I was fine yesterday. A little light-headed perhaps, but …” She looked helplessly at Cutty.

“They’ve both seemed fine to me. Nettie … well, the only thing ailing her is she’s in love with Amon.”

“Cutty!” Nettie breathed.

“Land sakes, child, ya don’t have to act like you’re ashamed of it,” Grandma scolded.

“Besides,” Cutty continued, “it ain’t like the whole town don’t know already. Amon, on the other hand …well, yesterday he was more interested in a tree than my dau … er, ah … poor Nettie here. That’d upset any gal in love, I reckon. But ya know how Amon can be.”

“Yes, I do,” agreed Doc Drake as he began to poke and prod the patient.

Imogene stepped forward and stood next to Cutty. “Does he have a fever?”

“I thought I told ya to wait in the parlor!” Cutty admonished.

“Oh, stuff it,” Imogene huffed.

“What?!” Cutty huffed back.

“Get out, both of you,” Doc Drake ordered. “I won’t abide the two of you arguing while I’m trying to work.”

“Fine,” Cutty grumbled, grabbed Imogene by the hand and pulled her out of the room.

Grandma and Wilfred exchanged a quick glance, then turned back to Amon. “Will he be all right, Doc?” Wilfred asked.

“Once I figure out what’s wrong with him. But that’s the difficult part.” He looked at Nettie, then turned to them. “I haven’t got a clue what that might be.”

* * *

Nettie, having been checked out by Doc Drake and found safe and sound, sat in the parlor next to Imogene and chewed on her bottom lip. “Stop that,” Cutty scolded. “Before ya bite yourself so hard ya start bleedin’.”

“I can’t help it, I feel so … so …”

Cutty sighed. “Helpless.”

“Yes.”

He studied her. “You feelin’ weak? Tired? Ya gonna faint?”

“She’s fine, Cutty. Stop worrying,” Imogene told him. “What we all need is some food. We’ve been in here for two hours now. It’s lunchtime.”

“You hungry?” Cutty asked Nettie.

She shook her head as she put a hand to her belly. “I can’t think of food right now.” Her lower lip trembled. “How much longer do you think the doctors will be?”

“Don’t know,” Cutty said, his eyes fixed on her. “All I know is this is tearing ya up, ain’t it?”

Unable to help herself, she flung herself into his arms. “Oh Cutty, if anything happens to Amon I’ll die! I just know it!”

Cutty’s eyes went wide. He glanced at Imogene, who sat still as a statue watching them. “Now, honey, he ain’t as bad off as all that. Doc Drake’s a miracle worker, he is. He can …” Cutty closed his eyes as his shoulders shook with emotion. For some reason, he sensed her pain, her anguish. No … he knew exactly what the reason was. He swallowed hard. “He can fix this … I know he can.”

Nettie pushed away and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. I hardly know the man!”

“Ain’t no shame in cryin’,” he said gently. “Heck, ya see these?” He pointed to his face. “I got ‘em too.”

Nettie shook her head, her tears coming again. “What is wrong with me?”

“You’re in love, simple as that,” Imogene said.

“But I don’t know him …”

“Sometimes you don’t have to,” Imogene explained. “It happens for no rhyme or reason. You see a man, one you hardly know, spend a little time, and love hits you unexpectedly. Maybe you never even see him again …”

Nettie sniffed back her tears and stared at her. “You sound as if … you know firsthand.”

Imogene gave her a compassionate look. “I do.”

Cutty swallowed hard and steered Nettie back to the settee. “You sit here. I’ll see how they’re getting’ along in there. Be right back.” He left the room.”

Nettie nodded, unable to speak. She was spent – with each passing moment she felt herself draining away, as if all her strength was being sucked out of her. If it continued, she’d have to say something. Whatever Amon had, she probably had it too despite Doc Drake’s assurances … “What if he dies?” she whispered.

“Don’t do this to yourself, girl,” Imogene said sternly.

Nettie looked at her. “I … I didn’t even know I was in love with him … and now, to think of losing him …”

Imogene put an arm around her. “I know just how you feel. I loved a man a long time ago. Of course, he didn’t even know I was alive. He ignored me for the most part and so I sought the affections of another. But I’ve never forgotten him. And I never will.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“No, but now that I look back on it, I suppose that’s a good thing.”

Nettie’s focus was broken by Cutty as he re-entered the room. “He’s askin’ for ya.”

“Oh no!” Nettie jumped to her feet and raced to the back of the house.

Once in the patient room she stopped short. Amon looked terrible – his skin pale, his eyes weak. Her hands flew to her mouth and she spun on Doc Drake and Doc Waller. “Can’t you do anything?”

Doc Drake shook his head. “If only we knew what was wrong. We’ve given him a few things, but only time will let us know if they work.”

Nettie sat in the chair next to the bed and took Amon’s hand in hers. He turned his tired eyes to her … and their color began to brighten. She smiled down at him and squeezed his hand. He moaned, but not in pain, and took a few deep breaths. She too gasped for air, but had no idea why. Was she sensing … feeling his pain somehow? She’d heard of such things between lovers, but Amon hadn’t so much as kissed her yet! Unless one counted the peck on her cheek the other day.

“He needs to rest, then we can see if the medicine we gave him worked,” Doc Waller explained.

“What did you give him?” she asked, never taking her eyes from Amon’s.

“Some laudanum for the pain, and … something else.”

“What?”

Doc Drake took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Something we have very little of, I’m afraid. In fact, we thought we’d used it all on Ryder Jones when he got bit by a rattlesnake a couple of months ago. But Grandma found another vial of it.”