Authors: Elaine Littau
Nan's Journey (14 page)
There was some talk of a new man filling the position; hopefully he would be of the same temperament as the last fellow. Church attendance couldn’t help but refine a man.
His boy would be the best scholar money could buy. Some churches he had heard tell of were very emotional. Emotion has no place in a decent man’s religion. Maybe the heathen Indians needed emotion, but not Sam Dewey!
Y
onder a comin’ it was Mary. Was it good news?
*****
Mary looked quietly into the reflection in the mirror next to the washstand. She lit the lamp and peered deeply into the blue eyes looking back at her. Mary Dewey was expecting a baby. She had the luxury of time since Mr. Dewey went to the town saloon to celebrate the good news. She had all the time in the world. She was looking for something that had been missing for a long time. Yes, there it was, a sparkle reached the cornflower blue orbs and lit up the usually passive face. She placed her hand on the mirror and spoke softly to herself as she had in childhood days.
“Mary, can you believe it? You will finally have a family of your own. Little Mary, someone will really love you, and you will be free to love… him? Her? What did it matter, she would love with total abandon. What was that? Fear? Don’t be afraid, Mary. You can handle anything. You are just like your Ma. She took care of all of you and did a fine job of it. No, I don’t want to be just like Ma. I want to cuddle and kiss my babies. I want to devote myself to love.” Her mind went quickly to Lester. Why did her stupid brain have to think of him at a time like this? Her eyes sparkled and danced with a shimmer on the night he asked her to be his wife. She had never known such happiness in her young life. Seventeen was the last year that a girl had “the flower of her youth” and she would be married before it had passed.
She had worked so hard on her wedding dress and the trousseau. The wedding was to have been the next day. Uncle Pete had knocked on the door and Ma had answered. He bore the news that his youngest frivolous daughter had run off with Lester. From that time on Mary had been a changed woman. Even as an eighteen year old, she put on the mantle of old maid. No one could reach the cold, scarred and broken heart.
For a moment the spark faded and the dead-pan look returned. She placed her hand on her stomach and remembered the life and love that was promised to be and a small light flickered inside the tortured soul and through the eyes. She was so glad to have this time to absorb her news without the prying eyes of Mr. Dewey. If he knew her heart wounds were still sore, he would delight in putting her in her place.
She learned a very important lesson as of late. He wouldn’t hit her if she were with child or if she remained interesting and kept them in public places where bruises could be observed. She would beat him at this game. She had grown to enjoy the challenge of outwitting him.
He only thought it was his idea to have a child. It had been in her plans from the start. One important observation she had made was that he had no respect for pain or discomfort. He ranted and raved about his first wife Nancy and how fragile she had been. At first Mary had thought that he loved Nancy’s delicate ways, and then she realized that it had only made him loathe her. If she were to fight him toe to toe, she would have to be strong, never complain, out work, and outwit him. She would be stoic in childbirth no matter what.
With that in mind she determined to not show one sign of weakness as long as she lived. The strange smile glided across her face and she turned to start the preparations for a hearty supper.
*****
Mr. Dewey stepped into the kitchen and smelled the aroma of beans, cornbread, gravy, and coffee. His stomach growled as he lowered himself into a chair at the table. Mary looked almost pretty. She was smiling and handed him a cup of steaming coffee. He was a little drunk and needed the warm beverage to help him clear his mind.
“Mary, Honey, yer purdy tonight.”
“Mr. Dewey, you don’t say?”
“Mere, Sweetie, give Daddy a little kiss?”
“O
kay,
Daddy, then you have to eat your supper.”
Mr. Dewey hungrily devoured her face in an energetic kiss and pulled her to his lap. Mary put her arms tightly around his neck and held him for dear life. It wasn’t love, but it was something. Something was better than nothing.
“Here
,
Daddy, eat your supper while it is hot. I’ll kiss you again later.”
Sam laughed heartily. “Sure thing, little Mama, it smells good.”
Chapter
17
Nate and Martha were sitting at the dinner table eating the noon meal when they heard the scraping of boots on the back porch. “Land sakes Nate, who could that be?”
“Well lookie here, it
’
s our Fred and the younguns! Hey
,
boy
,
what are you doing in these parts? Is everything alright?”
Martha noticed the small boy sleeping in Fred’s arms. Little Elmer was painfully white and still. “Fred honey, what is wrong? Bring that child in here and lay him on the little bed in the front bedroom. Let me turn down the covers! Oh mercy me, he looks bad!”
Martha made short work of preparing the child for rest under her clean covers in the small bed. Turning a quick eye to Nate, she instructed so gently yet urgently, “Dad, we must get the doctor in here to look at the little feller. Can you go fetch him, please?
…
A
nd Papa take car
e of their animals!”
“Surely Mother, I will make haste. Fred sit there and take a rest. My goodness Nan, you better sit down too! What happened to you children?”
“Papa, I’ll see to them, just get the doc as soon as he can get here!”
Martha felt the fevered brow and hurriedly went into the kitchen. Fred and Nan heard her rustling around the kitchen getting water from the pump, but both were exhausted and glued to the spot. In no time Martha returned to the small brightly colored room and administered a cool wet cloth to the patient. When she was satisfied that the child was breathing a fraction more easily, she looked into the faces of her precious son and the girl that sat next to him. “Children, come to the kitchen table and I’ll get you some sustenance.
You look beat.
Meekly they followed her to the table, which was set for two. “I’ll get a couple of plates and get you some of this stew. I wondered why I made so much of this today, but I guess God knew that I would have family in today. I think I will make a little potato soup for Elmer… yes, that might set better in his little tummy. Don’t you think? Oh listen to me chattering, Fred, you and Nan can go ahead and start. Papa already asked the blessin’. Land sakes let me get some milk and more bread put on. Lord knows I’m so glad to see you.”
Obediently the two travelers quietly started eating the hearty dinner. Nan decided that she had n
ever tasted anything so warm
and comforting. She wished in her heart that she would not ever be required to speak
while she was here. It was so healing just to hear Martha fussing over them and the one-sided banter made her feel that she could really rest and not have to think.
Martha stopped in mid sentence, “Fred, what is wrong with Elmer?”
Fred wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin from his lap and cleared his throat. “Ma, he is hurting so bad. His head has been hurting without stopping for days. I had to get him here to see a doctor. I’m even thinking that I might take him to Denver if I don’t get answers here.”
“How is he able to sleep when he is in such pain?”
“We ran into James on the trail and he gave us some herbal medicine for him.”
“I don’t know, Fred…” Martha’s voice trailed off, “but I guess sleep is better than pain.”
Nan tore the bread at her plate and dreaded answering any questions that Martha might ask of her. She savored the luscious stew and felt strength flow into her tired body. Maybe if she didn’t look Martha in the eye, Martha would continue speaking with Fred.”
“Nan dear, you look all done in. I think you need to get into bed soon.”
“Thank you, but I want to see what the doc says about Elmer and I really need to check on him.”
“I know
,
dear. That is a sweet sister.”
Presently the doctor and Nate entered the sick room. Dr. Benson felt for the pulse and made a mental note of it. Then he listened to the small chest and felt the fevered brow.
“This boy has a major infection somewhere in his body. Some doctors still hold to the practice of bleeding the patient to relieve the body of impurities, but my Ma was what people called a healer back in the hills of Kentucky and she swore that she saw more people die of the bleedin’ than it helped. What kind of herbs did you say you gave him to help him to sleep?”
“My friend from th
e Ute tribe gave them to
Elmer. Here is the bag. It still has some herbs in it.”
Doc Benson dipped his fingers into the small leather pouch and procured a pinch of herbs between his forefinger and thumb. Rubbing them together, he bent his head to sniff, “Peers to be the same type of folk medicine my Ma uses. I don’t see any harm coming from it. In fact, it may be just the ticket to get this lil guy some rest.” Carefully he examined the sleeping boy. “I need to look down his throat and see if it is festered in there. Sometime the tonsils don’t bide well with children. Fred, can you hold his head and prop his mouth open a little? Mercy
, would you look at that! How lo
ng did you say the little feller has been poorly?”
Nan spoke firmly, “Since he was three years old. He is nigh onto six now.”
“He has a festered tooth. The poison has spread to the roof of his mouth. His tooth socket in the back there is just about gone. It looks to have been broken off jagged like. Did he have a bad fall or something?”
Nan thought for a moment. She recalled the time Mr. Dewey had Elmer go to the pasture with him to check on a cow that was ripe to deliver her calf. When Elmer got back his face was very red on the jaw and Mr. Dewey had said that the cow kicked him. Nan found out later that Mr. Dewey had backhanded the toddler. Anger consumed her as the memory flooded back. “Only the backhand of a hateful man.”
Doc Benson looked quickly at Fred. Martha piped up, “No
, not our Freddy. It was a step
father years ago!”
“However it happened, the poison has to be expressed. If much of it gets to his stomach, it could kill him.”
“What are you going to do?” Nan spat out.
“Well, let
’
s see here. I don’t cotton to bleedin’ folks, but he needs to bleed clean after I lance the festered part. I’m gonna use a few leeches to do the job
.
” The doctor grabbed his bag and fished out a pile of clean rags. “I aim to pack his mouth with these to catch the poison when I lance this thing. Martha, get me some more to replace these because I have a feeling these will soak up fast. Nate, go to my office a
nd get the jar of leeches in
my window. Bring them fast. Fred, hold his head still.”
With a small sharp knife in his hand, the man of medicine plunged the blade into the festered mouth, slicing through the tender skin from the back tooth to the roof of Elmer’s mouth. Martha was amazed at how quickly the first rags filled with the foul fluid. The smell was horrendous. Nan ran out the door and lost all her dinner. She continued to wretch throughout the surgery. Time after time the putrid rags were replaced with clean ones. Finally, when the rags were a bright red instead of the putrid yellow and green, Doc Benson reached into the jar and selected two leeches to do “clean up” work.
He monitored them as they each grew fat on blood. He returned them to the jar and fetched two more. After they gorged themselves, he put them back into the jar and packed the last of the clean rags into Elmer’s mouth. He turned to speak to the worried attendees, “I am going to have to try to pull that stub of a tooth. I reckon he will come to when I try to do this so I have a plan. I am going to knock him out.”
Nan sucked in her breath, “Why
would you do that?”
“Just trust me little lady. It has to be done.”
“You ain’t gonna hit him are you?”
“No. Nate, get me a hammer and Martha, bring me a big cast iron cooking pot. I will put the pot on his head and hit it with the hammer and it will put him out.”
“Doc, are you shore?” Nate stroked the stubble on his chin and looked stern with his brow furrowed in deep lines, “Couldn’t it kill him?”
“Yes, it could kill him if it ain’t done just right, but I have done the knock out before and the old drunk I did it to lived to tell about it. I couldn’t give the old codger enough whiskey to put him out for the operation, so I had to knock ‘em out.”
“Is it wise to do that to a young child?” Martha couldn’t stand the thought or the risk.
“Martha, we don’t have a choice. We got rid of a bunch of poison, but the cause of the poison is that fractured tooth and jaw. I will have to chip out all the pieces of fractured jaw too. It should heal up and give him a lot of relief.”