Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) (24 page)

“All right, Aunt Corrin. I’m sorry. But all I can
think about is Paul lying there hurt and I want to be with him.”

“I know, Honey. But if he wakes up and finds you not
doing well, do you think that’ll help his healing process any?”

“You’re right, Aunt Corrin.” Amelia slowed down to
chew her food like a true lady.

After lunch they left straightway for the Strupel
house and arrived to find Paul still unconscious. Corrin pulled up a chair on
the right side of the bed for Amelia, and the girl began her vigil, stroking
Paul’s motionless hand.

Corrin, Jeremiah, Aaron, Mrs. Ruchers and Mrs.
Scranton each took three-hour shifts caring for their ailing friend---checking
his wound, wiping his brow with a damp, cool cloth, while Amelia never moved
from her chair except to occasionally relieve herself or when someone insisted
that she needed to eat something. Sometimes they would sit quietly for hours,
and other times a hushed conversation would occur between Amelia and whoever
was nursing Paul.

Corrin was about to leave the room around eleven o’clock
that night when Jeremiah entered the room for his next shift.

“Come on, Honey.” She took hold of Amelia’s shoulders
and pulled her to her feet. “It’s time to go home. You look tired.”

Amelia stood, brushed Corrin’s hands away from her and
firmly planted her feet on the floor.

“No, Aunt Corrin. I’m not going anywhere. I am going
to stay right here until Paul wakes up.” She turned abruptly and sat back in
the chair and picked up his hand once again.

“But Sweetie, the Doctor wants you to be sure to get
your rest.”

“I’ll rest right here.”

Corrin looked pleadingly at Jeremiah who observed both
ladies, and then simply shrugged. He certainly was no help to her.

“Aunt Corrin, please don’t worry about me. I’m feeling
fine. You saw Jeremiah last night. When he thought I needed to sit, he made me
sit. I am sure he will watch out for me with just as much concern and authority
as he did then.”

Corrin looked at Jeremiah again, and he nodded in
agreement with what Amelia had said.

“All right, Honey. I’ll go back and help Harry at the
bar. But please, you will take care of yourself won’t you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

Corrin kissed her and hugged her shoulders and then left
her niece in Jeremiah’s capable hands.

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At first the two sat in silence, the only sounds in
the room were Paul’s heavy breathing and Jeremiah occasionally refreshing the
cool towel and wringing it out in the basin on water before replacing it on
Paul’s head.

“Jeremiah. Do you know why this happened?” Amelia
asked, still unable to fathom the fact that Paul had been willfully shot, even
though he lay unmoving on the bed before her.

“Paul fired his foreman a few days ago.” Jeremiah
answered. “He’d been working for him for almost ten years. The mill has the
same strict policy of no drinking on the job as we do. It’s for safety’s sake---working
around all those saws. Well anyway, Paul had suspected another of his employees
to be drinking for some time, but he couldn’t prove it. The man had arthritis
and said Doc was giving him something for pain. Paul checked with Doc who said
he was, in fact, prescribing pain medication.”

“So Paul asked the foreman to tell him if he saw
anything unusual, and he said he would. There were occasional accidents, but
Paul could never place the blame on anyone. The foreman always convinced Paul
that nothing unusual was happening and that the accidents were just that---accidents.”

“Last week the man Paul suspected of drinking lost a
couple fingers in a power driven saw. Paul was irate. Right there in the man’s
back pocket of his trousers was a flask of whisky. He started to investigate
and soon discovered that the foreman had been taking bribe money from several
of the fellows in exchange for his silence and his subsequent allowance of
drinking on the job.”

“So you think the foreman shot him?”

“Just before Paul went unconscious last night he told
some neighbors the foreman’s name and that he had come to the house with a gun.
Corrin said the man drank a lot in the Saloon just before the time of the
shooting.”

“The town formed a posse, and they caught up with him
this afternoon. He was passed out from booze. They took him over to the
Glenwood Springs jail, and when he sobered up some he was still so mad at Paul
that he confessed to the crime---almost as if he were proud of it.”

Amelia simply couldn’t understand how people thought
they could solve their problems with violence. She sat very quietly after that,
resting her head on the bed beside Paul to pray for him. Closing her eyes, she
allowed herself to rest for the first time since the shooting. She fought sleep
for several minutes, but finally gave in to it.

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When Aaron came to relieve Jeremiah, he put his finger
to his mouth and quietly motioned toward Amelia. “Shh.”

Aaron let Amelia sleep as did Mrs. Scranton during her
three hour shift that began at five in the morning.

Corrin finally woke her around eleven in the morning
as she shook her gently. “Sweetie, come on. Get up.”

Amelia lifted her head from the bed and rubbed her
stiff neck. “Is he awake yet?”

“No, honey. He’s still sleeping. I brought you some
things so you can freshen up, and Mrs. Scranton is getting some breakfast for
you downstairs.” Corrin took her niece by the shoulders and helped her to her
feet.

“Who’s in here now?”

“It’s me again,” Jeremiah answered. “Mrs. Ruchers
couldn’t come, so since I’m here anyway, I’ll look after Paul. You go get
something to eat. I promise to call you if he wakes up.”

Amelia complied. Corrin had drawn a luxurious, hot,
foaming bath for her in another room. She first pulled her niece’s hair up for
her and secured it with several pins, and then Amelia sank down in the water, sighing
deeply as she allowed the heat to soothe her tired, stiff neck and the achiness.
She lingered there, almost falling asleep again. Corrin had to rouse her from
her respite.

“Sweetie, you’re wrinkling.” Corrin grinned, glad to
see Amelia taking so much time to care for herself.

Amelia dressed and the ladies went downstairs to the
dining room where Paul’s housekeeper had made a delicious meal of muffins,
poached eggs, bacon, fried potatoes and coffee. Amelia usually didn’t eat a
breakfast that substantial, but her body had been so tired and stressed, she
ate hungrily.

Corrin continued to dote on her niece as the days
slowly passed while Paul lay unconscious. She understood the fact that Amelia
was not about to leave the Strupel house until she knew he was safely out of
danger, so she persuaded Amelia to occasionally sleep in one of the other
bedrooms.

Amelia had told Corrin that she realized she loved
Paul and that she’d never forgive herself for not telling him if he didn’t make
it through this.

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On the morning of the seventh day after the shooting
as Jeremiah was toweling Paul’s forehead, his friend began to stir. He watched
him closely as he laboriously opened his eyes and tried to focus on who was
hovering over him.

Paul’s breathing became strained from pain. He closed
his eyes again and finally spoke.

“I must have died and gone to Hades. . . That’s
definitely not the face of an angel.”

“If you thought this little stunt would get you out of
the Leadville lumber contract that easily, you’ve got another thing coming,” Jeremiah
bantered with him.

“Amelia?”

“She’s been right here most of the time. Hardly left
your side. Corrin finally pried her away a little while ago to get some
breakfast.”

“She’s...all right?”

“Sure. It was tough on her the first night, though. Doc
had to give her something to calm her nerves and help her sleep. But she’s
pretty strong willed. Hey, we saw a side of her that I don’t think you’d
believe if I told you. Bucked her Aunt, she did. And Corrin backed down. Now
there’s something I thought I’d never see.”

Paul smiled and then breathed painfully again. Jeremiah
measured the exact amount of the white powder the Doctor had left for pain and
mixed it with a small amount of water. He gently lifted Paul’s head and helped
him drink the medicine.

“Doc Glover said this will help with the pain. You
might still hurt a little, but you should be more comfortable in no time.”

“Thanks. Say, you didn’t try to steal her away from me
while I was out?”

“Why, sure. Gave it my best shot, but she didn’t even
notice me. That reminds me, I promised her I would get her if you woke up, so I’d
better---” Jeremiah was interrupted when the door opened and Amelia and Corrin
walked in.

Corrin immediately observed that their patient’s eyes
were open and smiled broadly in relief as Paul winked and returned a weak smile.

“Honey, I think there’s something you should know.”

“What is it?” Her Aunt led her to her bedside chair.  “Aunt
Corrin, what is it? Has something happened?”

“Hello, Angel.”

“Paul!” Amelia drew in a deep breath and turned toward
him, tears welling up in her eyes and quickly spilling over her cheeks.  She
bent forward to kiss him and hugged his neck. He winced with pain and she drew
back hurriedly.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”

Jeremiah wasn’t surprised to hear her call him that. Maybe
it was a habit she picked up from her aunt or maybe it came from hearing people
talk about the two this past week. No. She’d said it from her heart and he knew
it. It just confirmed to him that he’d made the right decision to step back.

“It’s all right,” Paul said. “Jeremiah gave me
something . . . pain’ll go down soon.” He smiled at her and even through the
affliction, Jeremiah could see the love registered there.

“Come on, Corrin,” he said. “Let’s leave them alone
for a minute. I’ve got to get the Doctor and you’ve got to heat up some of that
broth.”

Corrin kissed Paul’s cheek and she and Jeremiah left
the room.

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Amelia settled into her chair beside the bed,
delightedly picking up the hand that had once been motionless but now squeezed
hers back. She kissed it. “Oh, Paul. I was so frightened that I would never get
the chance to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I love you.”

Paul tried to get up, but the pain pushed him backward
onto the bed. “Then marry me Amelia---my Angel. I love you so much. I want this
house to be filled with the sound of your voice, your laughter and your sweet
music. I want to see your lovely, angelic face every time I wake up. Please,
say you’ll marry me.”

Amelia was completely taken off guard by his proposal
and swallowed hard.

“Straight ahead of you is a night table. There’s a
tiny velvet box in the drawer. I want you to get it.”

She found the drawer and fumbled through it to
retrieve the tiny treasure to which he referred. Her heart pumped furiously.

“Open it.”

Her hands trembled as she opened the box and felt for
the contents. When she realized what it contained, she drew in another deep
breath.

“Oh, Paul!”

“It belonged to my mother. It has sapphires and rubies.
I want you to have it as a symbol of my deep and devoted love for you.”

She wanted to say yes, that she would be his wife.  She
opened her mouth to say the wondrous words, but was interrupted by someone
entering the room.

“Hey, you don’t look so good, Strupel,” Aaron teased. “But
then again, I didn’t think you looked so good before.”

“This is no time for your jokes.” Corrin smacked Aaron
in the ribs and then went to her dear friend’s side and kissed his cheek.

“You gave us quite a fright, Paul Strupel,” Corrin
said. “We’re all just glad you’re going to be all right.”

“Thanks. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.
Got too much to live for.” Paul squeezed her hand to let her know he was
talking about her.

She smiled and returned his squeeze and hid the tiny
box in her pocket.

The door flung open again.

“So, you’re back with us, huh?” Doc Glover said. “Excuse
me, Miss Jackson, please, while I examine my patient.”

Amelia backed away from the bed, her mind going wild
with thoughts of Paul and his proposal of marriage.

Soon Mrs. Scranton appeared carrying a tray bearing a
bowl of broth. “Doc, I warmed him some broth. We’ve managed to get some down
him every day, just like you asked.”

“Good. We need to start immediately to help him get
his strength back.”

The small group huddled about the bed, but Amelia
couldn’t concentrate on anything that was being said. No one even noticed that
she quietly slipped out of the room. She stopped downstairs in the entryway,
retrieved her mackintosh overcoat, and slipped outside for some fresh air. A
walk would help clear her mind. She knew she loved Paul Strupel, and her
initial reaction was that she wanted to marry him. But she also knew such
decisions in one’s life ought to be made carefully.