Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters) (24 page)

Chapter 24

Pain sliced through Charles’s head like red-hot daggers. Darkness engulfed him. Even though he could hear and feel people nearby, his eyelids were so heavy he couldn’t lift them. And trying increased the agony beyond the threshold he could stand. So he sank once again into the depths of nothingness, trying to get away from the earthquake of pain.

Loud groans aroused him from his hiding place. He wondered where they were coming from. Then he felt the rumbles deep in his own throat. Four hands lifted him from the cold, hard surface, but every movement added to his anguish. He tried to get away from the strong arms holding him. Fighting didn’t work, because his strength had fled. So he quit bucking against them. Where was he? How did he get here? His memory was like a blank page in a book where the story had been erased. As he tried to delve deeper into his mind, a wall of pain stopped him.

The jostling as he was carried into the cold wind intensified his torment. His whole body shook, and the hands gripped him tighter. Quick bursts of conversation were over before his befuddled mind could make out the words. At least two men manhandled him, and he could do nothing about it. Was he a prisoner somewhere? If so, why?

Then he was in a closed vehicle traveling at a higher speed than the street should allow. Each bump and pothole jerked him, even though someone held him down.
Would this torture never end?
With a final muscle spasm, he fell into an abyss as dark as midnight, with even his surroundings slipping away.

•••

Joshua was thankful when Erik stopped the coach as close to the front door of the mansion as he could. The younger man quickly jumped down and jerked the door open. Joshua really didn’t want to hurt Charles any more than he already was, because his anguished moans had filled the inside of the coach as they traveled toward Joshua’s home. After they slid Charles from the coach, each of them pulled one of his arms across his own shoulder. With the man between them, they made their way up the rock walkway toward the front door.

Joshua grasped the knob with the hand not supporting his young partner and gave it a quick twist. After pushing the heavy wooden door open with his other arm, Erik helped him move the unconscious man into the foyer. Charles’s dead weight really dragged against them.

“Joshua.” Florence stood at the bottom of the stairs, concern filling her eyes and tone. “What happened?”

He gritted his teeth trying to keep a good hold on the young man whose head lolled against his own chest. “Charles evidently took at tumble down the stairs in his house.” While he talked, he and Erik eased their way toward the parlor with their burden. “No servants were about, so we brought him here.”

By the time they got Charles inside the doorway, Florence joined them. “He won’t be comfortable on the settee. Bring him down the hallway to the guest room.”

She hurried ahead of the men, her heels tapping a loud staccato.

Joshua gave Erik a quick glance before turning his full attention to the man between them. No signs of Charles awakening yet. Worry bit at his mind. What if his young partner were seriously injured?

By the time they made it into the large bedroom, Florence had pulled the fancy spread off the bed and turned back the covers. “Is he bleeding anywhere?”

The men eased the young man down onto the feather mattress and lifted his legs. Joshua took off the slippers before tucking Charles’s feet under the quilts. “We didn’t find any.”

He turned to his driver. “Erik, go find Dr. Wharton as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, sir.” Erik strode into the hall, and the front door slammed almost immediately.

Joshua turned back to the bed. He didn’t like how pale Charles looked, almost lifeless. He felt against the side of his neck and noticed with relief that the young man’s pulse beat steadily.

Florence touched his shoulder. “I’ll get warm water for the washstand. The doctor may need it. And maybe I should get some cloths ready in case he needs bandages.” She bustled from the room.

As Joshua studied the young man, he noticed that Charles’s eyelids quivered occasionally, but they didn’t open. And the man’s fingers sometimes twitched. Joshua hoped those were good signs. If the doctor didn’t get here soon, Joshua decided he might need to do a more thorough examination of his partner.

“Daddy, who is that?” Maggie’s soft-spoken words drew his attention to her standing in the doorway.

He looked up. “It’s Charles. He fell, and Jorgensen and I found him at the bottom of the stairs in his foyer. We’re not sure how badly he’s injured.”

“Charles!” Her face went white.

She rushed across the carpet and took his limp hand. The look on her face told Joshua everything, and grief and joy struck his heart simultaneously. His little girl had fallen in love—with his business partner and friend.

“What happened?” She turned toward him, anguish covering her face.

He explained how he had found Charles in his home. While he talked, Florence came in with the basin of water and bandages, but Maggie barely looked up. Joshua’s eyes met hers, and a look of knowing passed between them.

Florence crossed to Maggie and put her arm around her. “I’m sure Charles will be fine. He’s just had a bad bump to his head, but we’ve sent Erik for the doctor just in case. Now come, Maggie, and let him rest.” She guided Maggie from the room, murmuring all the way.

Not too much later the doctor arrived. Joshua shook his hand, then indicated the basin. The doctor rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“We’re not sure. I think he tripped and fell down his stairs. I found him lying on the marble floor.”

After drying his hands, Dr. Wharton pulled the chair close to the bed and perched on the seat. “How long has he been unconscious?”

“Don’t know that either.” Joshua shook his head. “About half an hour since we first found him. He couldn’t have been there too long before we arrived.”

The doctor pulled out his stethoscope. He pressed the wooden, bell-shaped chest piece over Charles’s heart. “His heartbeat is steady and strong.” He removed the stethoscope from his ears. “Did you examine him closely?”

“No. We hurried to get him here and send for you.”

The doctor lifted one of Charles’s eyelids and peered into his eyes. “His pupils are reacting to light. That’s good.”

Joshua let out the breath he’d been holding.

With practiced fingers, the doctor gently explored his patient’s scalp. When he reached one side of the head, a loud moan escaped from Charles.

“There’s a large lump up high on this side . . . hmmmm.”

Joshua wondered what that meant. Was it a good thing, or was Charles more seriously injured than he’d thought?
Dear Lord
,
please let it be a good thing.

The doctor glanced up at him. “Actually, that’s a good sign. If I couldn’t find a knot, I’d have to try trepanation to release the pressure on the brain. A very delicate and dangerous procedure. I don’t like to use it if there’s any other way to treat the patient.”

Joshua hadn’t heard that word before. “What is trepanation?”

“I’d have to drill holes in his skull.” The doctor grimaced. “I only use it as a last resort. Not at all a pleasant thing to do.”

Joshua nodded, relief filling him.

The medical man continued his examination until he’d studied every limb and the patient’s torso, front and back. “I think we can wait awhile and see if he’ll awaken on his own. I don’t see any sign of broken bones or other trauma. He’s young, and with tender care, he should recover quickly.”

“We brought him to our home so we could take care of him, since his family’s all gone.”

The doctor went to wash his hands again. “I’m surprised none of his servants were in the house. You checked, right?”

“Yes, no one was there.” All of this was perplexing. Joshua felt almost helpless, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Is there anything we can do to help him get better?”

“Watch him closely. If he awakens and is lucid, give him sips of water and maybe some broth, but administer it slowly. Later he can have noodles, maybe some bread.” Dr. Wharton picked up his jacket and thrust his arms into it. “I feel sure our patient has sustained a concussion. When he awakens, he needs to take care and not do too much too quickly.” Dr. Wharton donned his bowler. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on the patient. In the meantime, if there is any change for the worse, send word. I’ll come right away.”

Joshua nodded and saw the doctor to the door. Then he went into his study and shut the door behind him. Kneeling beside the rosewood desk, he bowed his head and prayed for his partner, gratitude filling him that the prognosis looked good. And wonder filling him at the thought of his daughter loving Charles.

Charles
had
to recover!

Chapter 25

Wringing her hands, Maggie sat in the parlor with her mother. She had tried to hide her anguish from her father, but she knew she had done a poor job of it. Her heart ached.
Lord, please let Charles be all right.
Even if she and Charles would never have a future together, she couldn’t deny her love for him. She wanted him to live and become the man she knew God wanted him to be.

When her father finally came into the room, she looked up eagerly. “What did the doctor say?”

“He says Charles likely has a concussion and that when he awakes, he needs to take it easy for a while.”

“Do you need my help?” Maggie gave a relieved sigh. Charles wasn’t going to die. “Could I sit with him?”

Daddy glanced at Mother, and a look passed between them that Maggie couldn’t interpret.

Mother hesitated. “I’m not sure it’s appropriate for you to be in there since you’re a young lady and he’s a single man.”

Daddy stepped closer. “It’s not going to hurt anything for her to be with him until he awakes. Maybe she could read to him. It’ll help Charles to hear her voice, since they spent so much time together on her journey. Maybe he’ll awaken sooner.”

Maggie jumped up, hope filling her heart. “Maybe I should read healing scriptures over him.”

Daddy put his arm around her. “That sounds like a very good idea.”

Maggie retrieved her Bible, then hurried to Charles’s room, where she pulled a chair close to his bedside. While she read to him, she glanced up often to study him. Reading a psalm she had previously memorized helped. She didn’t have to look at the text in the Bible. She spoke the words with feeling that came straight from her heart.

His dark hair looked as if he had raked it with his fingers before he fell. His usually tanned complexion appeared pasty, and she could almost count the whiskers that barely peeked out of his waxen cheeks and chin. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn’t see his warm brown eyes, one of his best features. Worry for her dear, dear friend clawed at her.
Lord
,
please don’t let anything serious be wrong with him.

•••

Charles heard the familiar voice calling to him. With words from Scripture. Words he’d heard and read so many times in his life.

“‘Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men. For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.’”

Words spoken by a familiar angel with curly red hair. Now how did he know that? Words from the Psalms. A voice that enticed him up from the darkness.

But he couldn’t reach the light, so he let the words pour over him like a healing balm.

“‘Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them out of their distresses.’” The voice paused, and the angel took a deep breath. “‘He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.’” This time the breath sounded like a soft sob.

He tried once more to open his eyes and look at his angel, but his eyelids wouldn’t obey.

“‘And let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare his works with rejoicing. They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters. These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.’”

He drifted back into oblivion accompanied by the wonderful voice.

•••

The comforting words of the psalm soothed Maggie. She just hoped they also reached Charles, wherever his mind was. Surely it wasn’t a good thing for him to stay unconscious so long. She had to swallow several times between the words to keep from breaking into sobs. Even if she couldn’t have Charles, she wanted to be able to see him sometimes. Her world would be a dreary place without his presence.

She read until her voice almost gave out, then she stopped before she completely lost it. Leaning back in the chair, she sighed and squeezed the tears from her eyes. As they made trails down her cheeks, she dabbed at them with her hanky.

“Please . . . ” The word was spoken so softly, she thought she’d only imagined it. “Don’t . . . stop.”

Her gaze cut toward the man in the bed. Although he hadn’t changed position, his eyes were open, staring straight at her. Pleading filled his expression as much as it had his words.

Afraid he might close his eyelids and slip away again if she didn’t comply, she picked up the Bible and continued. Every few seconds she gave him a quick glance. He still had his gaze on her but hadn’t moved another muscle. She continued reading for a few pages, then dropped the open book into her lap.

“Are you completely awake?” Her words were almost as soft as his had been. She was afraid anything louder would scare him back into unconsciousness.

He blinked a couple of times before slowly opening parched lips. “Yes,” he rasped.

“Then I need to let someone know.” She stood without taking her eyes off him, trying to communicate to him through her gaze how much he meant to her.

His eyes didn’t waver from her either. “I know . . . but you’ll . . . return?” Both his voice and his eyes begged her.

“Yes.” She backed out of the room and hurried toward her father’s study, thrusting open the door so fast it slammed against the wall. “He’s awake!”

Daddy jumped up from behind the desk and ran out the door. “How is he?”

“He just woke up a few minutes ago when I stopped reading.” She scurried behind him, skipping every few steps, trying to keep up with his long strides. “He wanted me to continue. I wasn’t sure he was truly awake, so I kept reading a bit.”

“Good job, Maggie.” Daddy rushed into the room and dropped into the chair beside the bed. “Charles, I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve been in my study praying.”

She noticed Charles’s lips move slightly at the tip ends, probably trying to smile.

“Maggie.” Her father glanced over his shoulder. “Go tell Mrs. Jorgensen that we need some water and broth for Charles.”

Unable to contain her excitement, she went straight to the kitchen and burst through that doorway as well. “Our patient is awake!”

Mrs. Jorgensen smiled and started pumping water into a pitcher. “That is good, for sure. You take the water, and I’ll dish up some nourishing broth for him.”

When Maggie returned to the doorway of the guest room, both of her parents were leaning over the bed, talking to Charles.

“I brought some cool water for you.” Maggie set the empty glass on the bedside table and filled it halfway.

Her father moved around the bed and helped ease Charles up against the pillows. Mother pushed behind his back. He winced and gasped a quick breath. He looked nearly as pale as the snow-white sheets, but his eyes held a spark of life now instead of looking so dull.

“Did we hurt you?” Mother’s soft tone sounded soothing.

He opened his eyes and stared at Mother. “Not too much.”

Maggie handed the glass to her mother and watched the way she gently tipped it to let only a small amount trickle down his throat. Then she pulled it back for a moment before offering him more.

By the time he had taken several sips, Mrs. Jorgensen entered carrying a mug with a tea towel folded around the bottom half. “Well, now, I’ve brought you some nice warm beef broth. It’ll be good to settle your stomach and help you heal.”

Mother and Daddy moved back and let the housekeeper sit in the chair beside the bed. She spooned the broth into his mouth, going slowly enough to keep from spilling any.

After several spoonfuls, Charles settled back into the pillows. “That tastes good, but I’m tired . . . want to lie . . . down.”

Daddy helped him with Mother pulling the extra pillows out of the way. Maggie winced inside as she noticed pain flit across his features. Finally, he was nestled in the bed again.

She turned to go, but his voice called to her. “Don’t go, Maggie. . . . I like to hear you . . . read.”

Soon after Maggie started reading, his eyes slid closed, and he slept. Mother must have been standing near the door, because she came into the room and leaned toward Maggie. “Mrs. Jorgensen has our dinner on the table. I don’t think he’ll miss you while he’s asleep.”

Maggie didn’t really want to leave him, but she followed her mother from the room, her heart singing. Charles had awakened. And he was going to be all right.