Page 5 of Westbound Awakening

A soft snore sounded within the dim room. John didn't rouse when she entered and closed the door behind. Whatever Doctor Martin had given him ensured he slept soundly it seemed. She neared the bed and felt his brow. Although still warm, he'd cooled down considerably. After dipping the cloth back into the cold water, she wiped his face and then placed a fresh compress on his brow. Somewhat assured, Mae set about straightening the blankets. She lifted the blanket to see the doctor had re-bandaged the leg. What had the doctor meant about John disagreeing with 'what had to be done'?

"Mae?" The husky male voice woke her, and she blinked and jerked to look toward the bed. Barely opened dark gray eyes studied her. "Where am I?"

"Still here at my house," Mae ran the back of her hand up her cheek and yawned. "You passed out in the back yard..." It was then she noticed his eyes were glazed and moving constantly from one end of the room to the other. "John, how do you feel?" He didn't need to answer her question. By the sheen of perspiration on his brow and the flush of his face, the fever had returned.

John attempted to sit up, but gave up. "Is that a dog?"

"Dog?" She followed the path of his vision; he stared at the floor near the door. "What dog John?"

A soft moan sounded, and John closed his eyes. His lips moved yet he could not form any words. When she placed a fresh cool rag on his, his eyes jerked open and locked onto her face. "You're beautiful Maebelle. I've always admired your loveliness." The upward curve of his lips made her heart skip. "You can never know how hard it is to not touch you."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

His eyes closed, so he'd fallen asleep again. Mae remained frozen long listening to John's even breathing. How true were his words? All nonsense. Especially after seeing a dog. Of course, he must have mistaken her for someone else. The words from a feverish man meant nothing.

It was evening now, and the sounds of laughter followed by a new livelier song made her wonder if perhaps, once the medication wore off, the captain would not be able to get enough rest. She frowned toward the doorway. Nothing could be done about it. This was a house where the nights were filled with activity and the days quieted while everyone slept.

To allow some of the stuffiness out of the room, Mae opened the window. She leaned into the welcome cool breeze.

A man and one of her girls passed outside the window, speaking and laughing. She shook her head and let out a resigned sigh. "It's going to be hard to ensure you get enough rest around here at night John."

John grumbled in his sleep, seeming to agree with her, and she smiled toward the bed. Either her voice or the sound of his name when she said it brought out a reaction almost every time.

3

Like claws peeling his flesh away, pain seared up his leg. John gritted his teeth and stretched it, forcing the stiff limb to become accustomed to movement. Back and forth, he flexed first from the knee down and then from the hip, each movement becoming easier, smoother.

For two weeks, he'd been holed up in the house, in the same room. Each time he attempted to venture out, either Miss Lady or Mae would catch him and shoo him back into the room and to bed. Too weak from the blinding pain shooting through his leg when he stood to resist and since the dizziness came when he tried to stand upright, he'd not had much choice but to comply.

Today was a rare break. Upon awakening, the first thing he'd noticed was that the pain had lessoned considerably. Now after completing the exercises prescribed by Doctor Martin, he was in pain, but not unbearable.

Sitting on a chair near the window, he'd spotted Miss Lady and Mae outside. They walked towards the road, and he made up his mind to seize the opportunity to move around, get out of the cramped room.

His soldiers hadn't returned since they'd come two days earlier. He wasn't sure any of his regiment would anymore, not to see him anyway. During the last visit, they'd delivered his discharge papers, pay and belongings. Before leaving, they'd shook his hand and wished him well. One of the soldiers who'd been under his command shuffled his feet while the young man informed him the unit was about to be disbanded. Those who wished to continue in the military would be relocated to other posts.

He eyed the small pile of items in the corner of the room. Time to move on McClain. He tested his weight on his healthy leg and pushed up from the chair with his arms to stand. The swaying of the room was only slight, which was comforting. With measured movements, he lowered his left leg until his foot rested flat on the floor.

One step. The pain was bearable. He shifted and took a second step.

It was slow progress, with the short distance from his room to the front room taking him much longer than he had expected. Without the evening crowds, the space seemed much bigger. He went to the large polished mahogany bar and leaned forward to study the lines of neatly lined clean glasses along the back wall. It smelled of tobacco and drink, yet it was a pleasant space.

When John finally approached the bedroom, he heard female voices. Mae and Miss Lady had returned and were in the kitchen.

The tone of Mae's voice caught his attention, so instead of returning to the room, John leaned against the wall and listened.

"Miss Lady, why did you read the letter? I told you over and again I want nothing to do with the man." Although the words were spoken rapidly, Mae maintained her tone soft.

Miss Lady huffed, and he could hear the older woman shuffling across the floor. "You're right Mae. He don't deserve a thing from you. You on the other hand, deserve much from him. You need to go west to Texas and see what your daddy has to offer. His letter says he wants to leave you his property. A large ranch. If nothing else, you can sell the ranch and come back with enough money to move away from here, start a new life. Maybe you can go north."

"Where exactly would I go?" Mae's voice cracked, and John wondered if she was crying. "I can't go far enough in this state to escape someone knowing about my life here. Somewhere someone will recognize me. You know well and good my mother's family up north has made it abundantly clear I'm not welcome. I know you mean well Miss Lady, but please just let it go."

"This is one thing I am not going to let go Mae." Miss Lady's tone was harsh. "You can be mad all you want, but I'm puttin' you on a stagecoach west if it's the last thing I do." Her next statement startled John. "Captain McClain, what are you doing out of bed?"

Before he could take a step, both women rushed over and flanked him. Hands pushed up on his elbows urged him toward a chair in the kitchen.

Mae kept her face turned away, as if hiding evidence of distress. Yet her words were clear, strong. "Of all the stubborn things John McClain, why didn't you call? One of us can bring you anything you need. Doctor Martin doesn't want you up until he returns and pronounces you well enough to be up and about. After his last visit, he said your leg is still too injured, slow to heal."

"I can't abide staying in the room another day," John told them feeling childish when both women stood over him with balled hands on their hips. "I have to get moving so I can be on my way soon. Can't continue to abuse your hospitality and good care," he finished looking up at them with a scowl.