Promise me tomorrow (10 page)

11

Rusty was ready when Chase knocked on her door that evening and followed him quietly down the hallway. He had not had a chance to tell her they were dining out of the hotel, but Rusty said nothing as he led the way toward the door. Indeed, she was so quiet that Chase began to be concerned.

"Were you able to rest for a time?" he asked as they started down the street.

"Yes, thank you."

Chase would have given much for more of a response. He prayed even as they walked that he would be able to draw her out over dinner. For the time, however, he left her to walk quietly beside him.

Grandma's Kitchen had a homey feel to it. It was small and clean, and the tables in the middle of the room as well as the booths were decorated in all colors of checkered cloths and various flowers. A man showed them to a private booth and handed out menus.

"Do you think you can manage anything?" Chase asked without even opening his menu.

"I think so. It's a little chilly this evening, so anything hot sounds good."

Chase didn't find it cold at all but said, "This seems like a place that would have great soup. Shall I ask what they're serving?"

"Oh, yes, please."

Chase signaled the waiter back long enough to order coffee and find out that the soup was bean and ham.

"Sound tempting?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, a nice big bowl."

Chase placed the order and then watched his dinner companion as she stared into space. He thought he could almost read her thoughts and wished she would talk to him. He could have greatly assured her. In fact, he was determined not to let her out of his sight, even to the extent of taking her all the way home to Boulder. When he watched pain cloud her eyes, he knew he had to speak.

"Is this afternoon still heavy on your mind, Katherine?"

She turned as if just realizing he was there. "No, not really. I've thought about it, of course, but other than giving me a rough scare, there was really no harm done."

Chase had a hard time believing her. Her very posture still showed upset and pain. He had watched her in action for days with the children, and she was not the same. The bubbly young woman, ready to take the world by storm, was gone. Something was very wrong, and it wasn't hard to guess what. In hopes that she would open up to him, he began to gently question her, hoping to see her relax.

"Do you have anything special planned when you get home?"

"Nothing specific. Probably just lots of visiting with family and friends—maybe some

shopping."

"How long will you be home?"

"About a week."

Their food was delivered a short while later, and for a time they were silent. In the small parlor at the hotel, Rusty had said something about trying to get him home. Chase was curious about that, as well as how she got into the alley in the first place, but she was still so quiet and distant that he didn't feel free to ask.

"I think I needed that," Rusty said as she sat back with a sigh, most of her soup and rolls gone. "Left to myself, I don't think I would have eaten anything. Thank you, Mr. McCandles."

"You're welcome. Does dessert sound good?"

"No, thank you, but an early night does. Do you know for certain if we'll get out in the morning?"

"Yes. The repairs are coming along. Other parts were damaged, so it's going to take most of the night to straighten things „ out.

Rusty nodded. She desperately wanted to get home to Boulder. She felt she was thinking well about the incident today, putting it into perspective and not letting her emotions run wild, but she had a terrible ache inside to see her family, one that she could only attribute to the upset of today.

"Shall we head back to the hotel?" "Yes, please. It's been a long day, and I'm quite tired."

Chase did not try to engage her in conversation but simply walked her back to her room, made sure her door was secure, and told her he would be in his own room if she needed him. She did not. She dressed for bed as soon as his footsteps disappeared down the hall, and within seconds of settling the covers around her, she was asleep.

Chase was still concerned. He had called for Rusty at 8:00, even though he already had their tickets, and other than showing surprise that they were now riding in the first-class dining car, she was just as quiet and pale as she'd been the night before. Chase had no desire to badger her, but something told him she was not telling all. He prayed about questioning her and found his opportunity just after the train left the Makepeace station and a waiter came to take their breakfast orders. Rusty wanted only coffee.

"Are you sure?" Chase questioned her when they were once again alone.

"Yes. I'm not hungry."

"Katherine—" Chase's voice was gentle, but he also felt determined. "I don't feel as though you have been completely candid with me. What did those men say to you that has you so upset? I think you might feel better if you speak of it."

"Oh, Mr. McCandles, I'm sorry," Rusty said contritely "I'm really not upset about that anymore, but I've been the most awful traveling companion." She paused for a moment and then admitted, "To be honest with you, I'm not feeling all that well. My head hurts terribly."

"Oh, Katherine," Chase said compassionately, "I wish you had said something. We might have consulted a doctor and gotten something for you."

"That's all right. I find I just want to sleep."

"Why don't you?"

Rusty hesitated, strongly tempted. She had never ridden in a first-class train car before, and the elegance was stunning. The fabric on her seat was a soft velvet, the cushion was thickly padded, and she had it all to herself. Chase sat across a small table from her, and at their backs were walls that went to the ceiling, forming a booth. It was remarkably private. If only she wasn't so cold.

"Just lay your head back in the corner," Chase said softly. "No one will be bothered in the least."

Rusty would have nodded, but it hurt too much. She did lay her head in the corner and let her eyes stare out the window at the passing scape. It didn't last long. Her lids grew heavy, and before five minutes had passed she was sound asleep. But the sleep didn't last long either. Inside of 15 minutes she was awake again, feeling chilled to the bone as she stared across the table at Chase's empty seat with fever-bright eyes. He returned just a moment later, and Rusty took a moment to focus on him.

"Is it cold to you, Mr. McCandles?"

"I'll get you a blanket," Chase said without answering her. He signaled to a porter in the wide aisle and then looked back at Rusty. Her face was white save for two poppy-red spots of color in her cheeks. Chase consulted his watch, did a mental calculation, and prayed that there would be no delays at Fountain before they went on to Colorado Springs. A moment later the porter came with the blanket. Chase took it and stood up. He bent over Rusty, tucked it closely around her, and then sat beside her. With one hand he pulled the shade on their window, and with the other, he dropped the curtain over their booth. He heard Rusty sigh in the semidarkness.

"You have a fever, Katherine," he said when he heard her teeth chatter. "Just lean on me, and we'll try to get you warm."

Rusty had no strength or will to even speak as Chase put an arm around her and pulled her close to his side.

"We'll be in Fountain in about ten minutes and Colorado Springs a half an hour after that."

"I have to get my ticket home," she managed, but Chase didn't comment. She wouldn't be going any farther once they arrived, but with her last statement her head had fallen limply against his chest, and he had no chance to answer.

***

Colorado Springs

Chase kept Rusty's elbow firmly clamped in his hand as they disembarked the train. "What little color had been in her face was now completely drained away, and she looked like a little shadow with red hair. She stayed on her feet, however, as they crossed the platform, and then Chase lifted her into a waiting hack.

The ride passed in a fog for Rusty. She couldn't have told anyone where she was, if her life had depended on it. She never remembered her head hurting like it did now. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but the carriage kept moving and she was still so cold. She felt a little warmer when Chase scooped her into his arms to carry her somewhere, but he kept moving and she couldn't fall asleep.

"Without permission Chase carried her over the threshold and into his home. Waiting inside was his housekeeper, Mrs. Whitley.

"The guest chamber, sir?"

"No, the big bedroom."

Mrs. Whitley took the stairs on swift feet, Chase following close behind her. Rusty was aware of being carried but couldn't figure out where she was. She was tired, and Lizzy and Thomas kept flashing through her mind. When had she said goodbye to them? Were they all right?

Her feet touched the ground, but she barely noticed; feeling thoroughly disoriented, she was trying to remember if she'd sent word to her aunt and uncle. Whom could she ask? She felt strong hands steady her and looked up to see Chase McCandles standing above her, his eyes keen with worry.

"Mr. McCandles, did I send word to Sammy and Paddy?"

It took him a moment. "About Lizzy and Thomas?"

"Yes."

"The Davidsons were going to take care of that."

"Oh, yes." Her brow lowered in concentration. "Jessie and Doug. How are they?"

"I think they're fine. You, on the other hand, need some rest. "

Rusty looked up at him again. He was so large and comforting, but there was something she had forgotten to do. Maybe if she could get some paper and write, it would come to her.

"I need some paper," she began and started to move away from Chase to search the room. There was sure to be a desk somewhere.

He put an arm around her waist and brought her right back.

"Mrs. "Whitley is going to help you get ready for bed."

"Oh, how nice." The paper was forgotten. "I'm so tired."

"Let me know when she's settled in," he said to someone beyond her. Rusty turned to see a woman standing near the door.

"Is this your bag, dear?" the woman asked in a motherly fashion.

Rusty didn't want to nod her head, so she whispered a small yes.

"I'll just find something for you, shall I?"

Rusty stood still as her bag was searched. She recognized the nightgown Mrs. Whitley produced.

"The dressing room is just in here, dear." Mrs. Whitley walked around the bed and opened a door. "Why don't you come in here and slip out of your things?"

She preceded Rusty into the room and laid the nightgown on the little bench that sat inside the door, but Rusty was slow in coming. Mrs. Whitley slipped out as she came into the dressing room.

"Your bed is all turned down," Mrs. Whitley said softly as she came back to the door and saw that Rusty had done nothing but pick up her nightgown. She stood holding it.

Melinda Whitley knew from experience when someone needed help and when she should be left alone. If she were to leave this young woman alone much longer, she might collapse. Without permission she began to ease Rusty's dress from her shoulders. The younger woman did not protest. Melinda worked silently and efficiently, and in little time at all Rusty was ensconced in the night garment. This done, Mrs. Whitley put a gentle hand on Rusty's back and guided her to the bed. Once she was beneath the covers, Mrs. Whitley stood over her and spoke.

"I believe Mr. McCandles would like to see you, dear. Do you mind if he joins us for a moment?"

"No, ma'am," Rusty whispered.

Rusty watched as the door opened. Chase entered and immediately came toward her. Mrs. Whitley returned to the bed as well and stood at the end. More concerned with Rusty than with propriety, Chase sat right down on the edge of the mattress.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes. Is this your home, Mr. McCandles?"

"Yes. This is Briarly."

"So I'm in Colorado Springs?"

"Yes, safe in my home. No one will disturb you. I want you to sleep as long as you like."

"Thank you."

As though having permission was all she needed, Rusty's eyes closed. Before Chase could even move from the mattress, her breathing evened out and her features relaxed. Chase stood and walked quietly from the room. Mrs. Whitley followed him and shut Rusty's door.

"We were held up in Makepeace yesterday," Chase explained to his housekeeper, "and I think she was coming down with something even last night. I didn't realize she was ill until we were back on the train this morning."

"Her skin is so warm." The older woman's voice was compassionate. "Has she been sick to her stomach?"

"I don't think so. Will you be able to keep things quiet today?"

"Yes, sir. I'll let everyone know and open her door again so I can hear her if she needs something."

"Thank you. Don't hesitate to come for me if

I can help."

"Certainly, sir."

The two were standing in the wide, room-size landing at the top of the stairs. Their voices remained hushed, although Rusty's door was closed. They parted soon after that, Chase to his office to work on his mail, and Mrs. Whitley taking the next level of stairs to the staff bedrooms in an upper wing in an effort to warn all servants that they must be quiet. Briarly was a huge home, but if she had to walk every inch of it to ensure quiet, that was just what she would do.

***

Rusty slept all day. Mrs. Whitley came and went, but Rusty heard none of it. It was after 4:00 when she woke, finally warm, and remembered where she was. Her head still hurt, but she thought the worst of it might be over.

/
can't remember when I've ever had such a headache,
she thought to herself, but then realized it hurt to think too much. She was lying comfortably, thinking she might drop off again, when Mrs. Whitley came in.

"You're awake," the older lady said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Still rather weak, I'm afraid."

Mrs. Whitley smiled and moved to the table next to Rusty's bed. "I brought you some tea about 20 minutes ago. The pot is still quite hot. Would you like some?"