Kitabı oku: «Rocky Mountain Redemption», sayfa 4

Chapter Five

“I was about to send the cavalry after you.” Ben left Joseph in his wake, meeting Katie as she entered the front door of his house. “What happened? Did you lose Callie in the tub?”

She gave an innocent smile and edged around him. “She’s a slight thing, but no, I didn’t lose her. You know how girls can be.” Waving a slender hand in the air, she moved toward Joseph. “Talk, talk, talk.”

Ben pivoted, peering out a side window to his doctor’s office next door where Callie was now. He turned and followed Katie to the dining table. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Beginning?” Joseph focused his sightless gaze at his wife then arched an eyebrow Ben’s way. “You started worrying the minute you left her side and came over here to wait. You’re a dead giveaway when you’re nervous, you know. Pacing and clearing your throat the way you do.”

Ben produced a half-hearted frown. “And you are too observant for your own good.”

With a self-satisfied grin, Joseph lifted Katie’s cloak from her shoulders and draped it over the chair. “I can’t help it that my other senses are so sharp. I come by it naturally.”

Ben sighed. “Katie, maybe you ought to give him a lesson in humility. Seems like he’s a little weak in that area.”

“Believe me, I don’t need her to do that. All I have to do is make an embarrassing mess of things, like last Sunday at church, and my feet are firmly planted on the ground.” Joseph raked a hand through his chestnut hair.

“What happened this time?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Well, sure I do.”

On a heavy sigh, Joseph shook his head. “I was introducing myself to a newcomer and I reached out to shake her hand, but it wasn’t her hand I touched.”

Ben grimaced. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose. “I touched her—her bosom,” he ground out. “That’s not even polite to say in mixed company. Sorry, darlin’,” he added with absolute sincerity to Katie.

The way she looked up at Joseph with undeniable adoration was something to see. And snagged at Ben’s own yearning for the same.

At twenty-nine, he could’ve married several times over, but after a difficult end to a relationship while he was away at school, he’d decided to bypass that aisle. And with as much as his practice had grown, he could easily distract himself from the loneliness he felt at times, by throwing himself into his work and his patients.

Unfortunately a certain five-foot-two-inch, auburn-haired, blue-eyed patient residing in the living quarters of his office next door presented a bit of a problem. He was distracted completely by Callie’s presence.

“I could’ve crawled out of the church,” Joseph finished.

Grabbing the two empty mugs from the table, Ben couldn’t help chuckling. “So, what did you do?”

“Apologized. What do you think? Then held my head high and made some small talk as if nothing had happened.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she realized you were blind until…well, until that,” Katie offered, stacking the plates and bowls and setting them in the basin, too. “She looked as shocked as you did.”

“There’s the silver lining.” Ben clapped his brother on the arm. “You’ve been working hard at gauging where to aim your focus. Sounds like you’re doing a great job—at least where your eyes are concerned, anyway.”

“Very funny.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Joseph shook his head. “Next time I’ll remember to hold my hand out and let the other person do the grabbing.”

Inwardly, Ben was thankful to see the ease with which Joseph was handling his blindness. He was adjusting well. Though he could see some dim shadows, he was pretty much dependent on his other senses. And with the help of his wife, who’d come to him as a teacher of the blind, he’d made huge strides toward independence.

“So, Callie is back in bed, right?” He swung his focus back to the conversation.

“I gave her a fresh glass of water and tucked her in. Satisfied, Doctor Drake?” Katie teased.

Ben gave one swift nod. “As weak as she is, I want to make sure she doesn’t overdo it.”

“She didn’t. We were just getting to know each other, that’s all. She seems very nice, but you were right. She’s a proud young woman.” Katie tucked strands of blond waves into where she’d swept it up at the back of her head. “She almost refused to take the clothes I brought over. And she’s determined to pay you for everything. Once she’s on her feet again, I’m guessing she’ll be a tough one to corner long enough to get her to open up.”

He frowned. “That’s what has me worried.”

“I thought so,” Joseph gibed with one raised brow. “You’re taken by her, aren’t you?”

Ben shrugged off the brotherly taunt. “Well, something about her has snagged my attention, that’s for sure.”

“Like I’ve said before,” Joseph measured out, patting his chest. “You’re a bleeding heart.”

Ben dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’m just worried about her, that’s all. It’s obvious she doesn’t have anywhere to go from here. As much as this area has been built up with the railroad coming through and all, a young woman trying to find her way alone is as good as a death sentence. It’s clear that she needs a leg up in life.”

“You’re right to be concerned.” Katie threaded her arm through Joseph’s.

“What do you mean?” Ben’s pulse prickled through him at the way her features pinched with concern.

“I have a feeling that if you want her to stay safe, then you’re going to have to find enough things to keep her busy right here. But most importantly, you need to treat her with great care.” Her voice grew suddenly soft and strained as Joseph wrapped her protectively in the crook of his arm. “Even though she tried to hide them, the awful scars I glimpsed on her body are a horrid indication that her past is something she’d like to forget.”

The thought of Callie enduring a cruel beating, even once, touched every part of his mind and heart, stirring up anger so hot his blood still thrummed with furious force through his veins. Images of her being mistreated thundered through his mind, unearthing fierce rage and the innate need to protect her.

“Callie? Are you awake?” Ben spoke low as he gently knocked on the bedroom door and awaited her reply.

After several silent moments, alarm barged into his head, dominating all reasonable thought. He opened the door, peeking inside.

He hoped he hadn’t seemed rude when just moments ago, he’d eagerly ushered Joseph and Katie out of his house. But from the second Katie had returned from helping Callie with her bath, he’d been chomping at the bit to get back over here to his patient.

Especially after Katie had mentioned the scars.

A few old scars. Some newer ones. The bold signs of chronic abuse that had been hidden beneath her tattered undergarments. He’d been fortunate enough to get her out of her wet and dirty dress after she’d arrived. But since then, every time he’d attempt to examine her, she’d flat-out refused, wrapping the covers so tightly around her, he thought she might cocoon herself in them permanently.

Completely missing the glorious opportunity to break free as a beautiful butterfly.

He gulped hard, sliding a trembling hand over his mouth. That thought had come out of nowhere. The delicate image of Callie emerging and spreading her wings to fly had his insides drawing up taut.

Every step from his house to his office, he’d kept telling himself that his was just a doctorly kind of concern, making sure she hadn’t taxed herself too much or spiked another fever. But the way his heart thudded inside his chest as he quietly slipped into her room, he knew he was fool—

He stopped cold in his tracks when he glimpsed her nestled safe in a fluff of quilts and pillows. His throat constricted. His pulse skidded to a halt, staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. He was so taken by her innocent beauty that he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away, even if he tried.

He advanced one step closer, growing increasingly uncomfortable at the way his thoughts were so caught up with this patient and the intense need he felt to protect her.

And wholly compelled by the way her auburn hair fanned across her pillow like rich strands of fine satin, gleaming in the sunlight. The late-afternoon glow poured through the windows in warm, comforting streams, lighting on her face to reveal a freshly scrubbed, pink tint there. Revealing also a small, ragged scar at her hairline. He’d missed it before with her matted hair, but now in the soft glow, he could see it. And the sight fixed a tight cinch around his stomach.

He gritted his teeth. Fisted his hands as images of this delicate woman being mistreated whipped through his mind once again. Any man who’d do that to a woman wasn’t worth his weight in gold, and must’ve been raised by the devil’s minions. Had it been an employer? Her father?

An appalling suspicion brought him up short.

Surely not Max. Max may have come by lying and cheating and drinking and gambling easily enough, but surely he couldn’t have found it so easy to physically harm his own wife.

Or could he?

Ben seethed with fury that Callie had been treated with such abject disregard.

When she stirred slightly and gave a small, distressed moan, he stepped nearer, instantly troubled by the way her brows creased in a frown. The way her mouth turned down at the corners in a distinctive look of fear.

Hunkering down next to the bed, he gently braced a hand on her shoulder. Instead of easing her distress, she jerked hard. Gasped in fear as her eyes flew open. She scrambled to the other side of the bed. Heaved a pillow over her head as if she meant to defend herself.

“Callie?” he spoke low, noticing how the covers quivered with the force of her heartrending trepidation. “Callie, it’s me. Ben.”

Her fingers blanched white with force. Her breath came now in short pants as she inched the pillow down. She slid a terror-filled gaze to him and blinked hard, once, then again as if bringing him into focus. He saw the light of awareness dawn in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she swung her gaze aside, fastening it to the wall as though holding the structure in place. “Are you all right?”

“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” Heaving a big sigh, she shot up to her elbows and glared at him. “Do you always do that to your patients?”

“I didn’t sneak up on you.” He kept his voice low and even. If she’d suffered abuse, then it would certainly account for her skittishness around him. He’d have to tread lightly when it came to touching her. “I came in to check on you. Just like I would any other patient. You’ve been sick, remember?”

The way she studied him out of the corner of her eyes as he raised his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever, one would think he had a gleaming scalpel poised, ready to make a deep incision. But the way she jutted her chin out in obstinate refusal to show weakness pierced his heart straight through.

“Well, next time knock, if you would, please.” She summoned her rose-colored lips into a headstrong pucker that brought to mind dainty rosebuds.

“I did knock.” He wrangled up his patience and his good sense, even as unsolicited images of those perfect lips touching against his drifted through his mind. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to convey that, but darn if his thoughts didn’t find their way there. “You must’ve been having a bad dream.”

“I was not,” she retorted.

He tried to hide his dismay at her stubbornness. “You feel cool to the touch. I’m glad for that.”

When he withdrew his hand, silky strands of hair whispered against his fingertips, kicking his pulse up a notch. He busied himself, pouring her a fresh glass of water as he forced himself to focus on her needs as a patient.

“I hope you didn’t overdo it with the bath.” He offered her the glass, his errant gaze locking on her lips as she took several generous sips. “I probably should’ve waited to make that suggestion.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine.” She fell back to the pillow. “In fact, I can’t believe how much better I feel. I’ll be up and working probably by tomor—” Her proclamation was interrupted by an unceremonious, lingering yawn.

“No, ma’am. Not tomorrow, you won’t.” Ben shook his head, trying hard not to grin at her strength of will, and the small glimpse of innocence he saw right then in her cute frown. “Not the next day either. I’ll let you know when you’re well enough to begin work.”

When she knit her brows together even tighter, he had the distinct feeling that he’d probably just stepped on her pride. He’d do it again, since he was a stickler for enforcing ample recovery time. And in her case, much needed rest.

“Thank you all the same, but I am fully capable of judging that for myself.” She crossed her arms at her chest. “And I feel more than ready to tackle the tasks that need to be done.”

“You are stubborn enough that you would, too.” He gently grasped her wrist to feel her pulse. “But I’m a doctor. And, honestly, I question whether you’re in the habit of making sound decisions regarding your health.”

With a protesting huff, she jerked her hand back.

“And before you go thinking that I just insulted you, let me assure you that it wasn’t meant as such,” he cut in, distracted by the way her soft skin remained imprinted on his. “Given the way you showed up here, I’d say mine is a fair assessment, don’t you think? No one in their right mind would have braved that kind of weather in the condition you were in at the time.”

Crossing to the dresser, he eyed the locket lying atop her worn garment. “Nothing is worth that.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them and since he’d given her his back, he could only guess what her reaction was. But the one thing he’d learned about Callie, thus far, was that even though she’d make gallant efforts to hide her emotions, the uncertainty that churned inside her pretty little head was evident on her face.

“Your brother told me to find you.” The words fell from her lips, stiff and measured and loaded with things unsaid.

He faced her. “What do you mean? Max sent you here?”

Suspicion, thick as mud, overpowered the compassion that had just moments ago pervaded his mind. Joseph’s and Aaron’s strong words of caution echoed through his mind. Maybe they were right—that he was too trusting at times. That he was too much of a soft heart. That he opened himself up to get taken.

But when he peered into Callie’s distressed gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to make that kind of outright conclusion. Not without direct proof, unshaded by doubt.

“That was his last sentiment.” The words sounded as if forced from her lips.

“His last words were about me?” Rubbing his temples, he dragged in a deep breath.

The nod she gave was slow and painfully measured. And seemed meant to sever any further inquiry he might have, promptly pricking his irritation.

“Tell me what this is all about, Callie. Why are you here, anyway?” His voice had raised a good notch. “Because, had I not come along when I did, you likely would’ve frozen to death on my doorstep. Why would you put your life at risk like that?”

Hauling her chin up a notch, she glared at him as he advanced on her. Flinched as if he might haul out to strike her. Then gave him a hollow kind of look.

And that had him inwardly kicking himself.

When she slowly rolled away from him, he knew he’d pushed too far, too fast.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to sound so—” He braced a hand at the back of his neck, feeling every bit worthy to play the evil part of the nightmare he’d found her in when he’d entered the room just minutes ago. He gently adjusted the quilt at her back, tucking it in so that she wouldn’t catch a draft. “I’m sorry. I’m just glad that you turned to me.”

When he pivoted to leave the room, he could’ve sworn he heard her whisper, “You were my last resort.”

Chapter Six

For the past hours those words, You were my last resort, had marched through Callie’s mind like dark shadows marking out her future. She’d hoped to eliminate Ben and the disturbing effects of his concern from her thoughts, but his subtle, piney and masculine scent lingering in the room infused her every sense with his memory.

She’d lost track of time as she’d crawled out of bed and slowly made her way around the room. She grasped the satin-smooth furniture to steady herself, studying the few other framed photographs hanging about the room. Raw emotion squeezed her heart seeing the way a much younger Max seemed bent on puffing his chest out in some kind of stubborn refusal. As she inched her gaze over a picture of Max, looking close to the age she’d first met him, she trailed a fingertip over his charming yet devilish grin. That smile had once drawn her, like some forbidden fruit.

But one taste of his empty promises confirmed the grave mistake she’d made in succumbing to his tempting charm.

The image of Ben’s half-cocked grin and earnest gaze barged into her mind as she made her way back to bed. This job was her only hope to earn the money she needed, but the way Ben seemed focused on probing into her life and her heart…well, she was walking in very dangerous territory.

Ben was nowhere near safe.

His caring touch, the tender way he looked at her, the kindness in his gentle ministrations, all of those things worked against her, wearing down a very hard-won safeguard she’d erected. His thoughtfulness threatened to destroy her resolve. Threatened to uncover the vulnerability she’d vowed to protect. She’d never again find herself stuck in a defenseless and vulnerable relationship.

Especially with a man like Ben Drake.

The heavy weight of her desperation pressed in hard, making her feel horribly frail and even weak as she crawled under the covers.

Max had always hated it when she’d cried. Rarely would she weaken, seeing as how he’d grow instantly angry. Out of mere survival she’d learned how to stop up the sorrow, though sometimes there was no helping it. Like an overgrown vine in dire need of tending, grief would smother the light of hope.

Especially after she’d lost her newborn baby girl at birth, six agonizing years ago.

Setting her trembling fingers to her lips, Callie tried to ward off the memory’s bitter sting. But Max hadn’t allowed her even the opportunity to see her little girl, kiss her, hold her. Callie had been left with an aching emptiness that hurt, even today. And sometimes, out of nowhere, that familiar, painful lump would swell in her throat, her stomach would grow queasy, and hot, unshed tears would threaten.

Would the anguish ever go away? Would she ever rise above regret’s relentless storm, enough to see the possible hope of what lay ahead?

Or maybe, for Callie, hope was dead.

“No,” she whispered, thrusting the miserable thought away. If she didn’t, she’d fall into the hands of a fate worse than death. A fate that threatened to crush her spirit.

Determined to remain strong, she dragged in a steadying breath. She’d need to be firm with Ben, especially after he’d decided that it was his place to tell her what was best for her.

Ha! As if he knew.

He had no idea.

She clenched her teeth, riled in an instant at the memory of his pushy, self-important ways. Twisting a corner of the quilt between her fingers, she remembered how her father had played that role. He’d been like one large, prickling burr to her side at social functions, scaring off any and all suitors with his gruff, unfriendly exterior.

Max had been much the same in his control, only he’d used force when she tried to exert her will. A hard backhand to her face, a rough shove into the wall, or his hands clasped like iron shackles around her wrists.

But his cutting words…they’d been the worst.

Apart from a few short seasons of seeming sanity, he’d remained the antithesis of the man she’d married.

Trembling now, she tried to shut out the bitter memories. Having seen her father take up residence in a stronghold of bitterness and resentment after her mama had died, Callie knew she could never stomach herself if she grew to be the same.

There had to be hope. Even if she couldn’t see it, and everything around her looked hopeless, there had to be hope.

There were times throughout the past years when she’d felt a quiet wooing, a gentle calling, to pray. To climb above the darkness that seemed to surround her.

But then the clear and dismal message she’d gotten about God, growing up, would haul her back down with ruthless force. Her father had jammed Scriptures down her throat and demanded she quote them to ensure her standing with God. The minister at their church had beaten his meaty fist against the thick, wooden pulpit weekly, decrying God’s fiery wrath and judgment. And then Max, he’d barely given God a second thought unless he’d lost his shirt in a poker game, then he’d railed at God to the point that Callie would cover her ears and hide, fearing retribution.

Was God fickle? Was He liable to punish her at the hint of wrongdoing, as the minister back home often said? Had God sent all the heartache she’d gone through the past seven years as payment for her mistakes?

The very thought made Callie’s heart pitch with deep sorrow. Just as she began to feel nearly overwhelmed by it all, she heard a rustling sound behind her back.

Rolling over, she rose to an elbow and found a boy staring back at her. Blinking hard, she took him in.

He was probably eleven years old or so. His dirt-smudged face and thick mop of dusty blond hair that hung almost to his eyes made her think of a sheepdog pup. The image lifted her heavy heart a bit.

“How did you get in here?” she asked when he made no move. She swiped at the moisture rimming her eyes.

His hazel gaze grew wide as he took a step toward the door.

“Is there something you need?”

“I—I was jest—” His focus cut from one thing to another in the room, finally landing on her face. “Lookin’. That’s all. Who are you?” He gave an audible swallow then anchored his lips off to the side.

Pushing up to sitting, she leaned against the walnut headboard. “My name is Callie. And you are…”

“Luke. Luke Ortmeier.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luke Ortmeier.” Nodding, she smiled, hoping to coax one from him, as well.

Instead, his eyebrows crept like small golden caterpillars into a suspicious scowl as he settled his fists on his waist. “Does Ben—Doc Drake know you’re here?”

“Yes, he does. Does he know you’re here?”

“Doc Drake’s my friend.” He folded his arms at his chest, revealing threadbare holes in the elbows of his muslin shirt. “Fact is…we’re best friends, him and me. He lets me come to his office here and have a look at his things. All the time.”

For some reason, that bit of knowledge settled on her like a soothing touch. That Ben had entrusted this young boy in that way cut off a few suspicions regarding the doctor’s character.

“Oh. I see,” she finally said.

“Yep,” he confirmed with a single nod. Threading his fingers together, he turned them outward and cracked his knuckles in slow succession, making her wince. “I’m gonna be a doctor jest like him someday. Gonna git me a black bag and some of those whatnots he carries ’round with him.”

“Really now?” Callie pulled her legs beneath her as she turned to face him. “Will you attend school somewhere?”

“You betcha. I figure it won’t be for long, though, seein’ as how I’m learnin’ so much already.” Snuffling, he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. The innocent determination that cloaked Luke’s unwavering gaze prompted a smile she struggled to bridle. He jutted his chin out and moved closer. “Right now I go to the schoolhouse down the way, but only sometimes, cuz my ma don’ like it when I’m gone all day long.”

“She doesn’t? Why not?”

“She needs me to work,” he responded in an offhand sort of way as he eyed the chair next to the bed.

“Here, have a seat.” She patted the edge of the bed, wondering if he lived on a large ranch that needed many hands to turn a profit. “So, you must live on a farm?”

Luke edged over to the bed and sat down with hesitant care. And when he trailed his fingers almost reverently over the stitches on the quilt, she felt certain he wasn’t used to a well-built, hand-carved bed or lovely quilt.

“Naw…we don’ farm. Ma’s mostly busy at nights. That’s why she needs me ’round durin’ the day to do the cookin’ and such.” Luke peered at her, his gaze drifting to her hair. “I leave now and again when Ma’s sleepin’ to visit Ben. Make sure he don’ need my help or nothin’ with his calls.”

She smiled, her heart squeezing at his earnest loyalty. For some reason, she found herself easily imagining Ben taking this boy under his wing. Treating him like a son, even.

“I found me some kittens the other day,” Luke offered.

“You did? Where did you find them?”

“In the alley behind Gold-Digger’s.”

“Gold-Digger’s?” she queried.

“You know, the saloon. Anyways, the kittens musta’ been ’bandoned by their ma cuz they was real hungry.”

“Aww…the poor things.” She felt equally sad thinking about this young boy scouting around in an alley behind a saloon.

“Don’ you worry none.” He gave his head an adamant shake. “I’m raisin’ ’em now. Ben’s helpin’ me.”

Turning toward her, Luke’s face was alight as he looped his left knee up on the bed. “Did Ben ever tell you ’bout me goin’ with him that one time?”

“Umm, no. He hasn’t mentioned that.”

“Well, I did. It was flat-out nasty, too.” His hazel eyes transformed from round orbs to narrow slits.

“What happened?”

“A broke leg pinned under a wagon.” He pointed to his midthigh with fingers that bore the red and raw signs of a recent blister that had her wondering what had happened. “We got ’im out jest in time. And Ben, he got the wound all patched up good as new. Took a spell for the feller to walk right again, but he did, jest like Ben said he would.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m sure the man is grateful.”

“Yep. Lucky we was both there seein’ to him.” He shoved his thick hair out of his eyes then pulled in an exaggerated breath. “Otherwise, no tellin’ what would’a happened.”

Pride beamed like the noonday sun from Luke— Callie could feel it. “Well, I’m sure your parents had to be very proud of you that day, Luke. Very proud indeed.”

He gave a quick shrug. “Don’ know my pa. And Ma…well, she don’ take kindly to me bein’ ’round here none. Says that I’m a big ol’ bother. I asked Ben, though, and he said my bein’ here is fine by him.”

Ready compassion welled up inside her. She set her hand on his arm and gave a light squeeze.

“You’re welcome anytime. You know that, Luke.” Ben’s low voice startled her, sending a tiny shiver of pleasure straight down her spine.

She glanced up to see him leaning against the door-jamb, his arms draped in casual ease at his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles. His steady, discerning gaze seemed to peer straight through to her soul.

She scrambled to cover the bitter scars grooved in her heart from years of regret and shame, but felt like her attempts fell short and that he could see everything.

“Were you sleeping, Callie?” He pushed away from the doorway, his intense gaze shifting not one inch from hers. A tender, thawing kind of smile tipped his lips, warming her from the inside out, even though she wasn’t the least bit cold.

“No, no. I was wide-awake.” She fumbled with the quilt.

“Cross my heart,” Luke added, shooting up from the bed as he drew an invisible X over his heart. “I didn’t wake her. She kinda looked like she’d been gushin’ some, but she wasn’t mad or nothin’ when I came in here.”

Without even touching her, Ben grabbed her attention, compelling her to look into his eyes. “I didn’t think she’d be mad, Luke,” he finally said. “I just don’t want her rest being disturbed, that’s all.”

Callie glanced up to see Luke hook his thumbs in his pockets then gesture back at her with his head. “She yer girl? I figured she was, seein’ as how she was layin’ here and all.”

When Callie’s cheeks grew hot with an instant blush, she berated herself for acting like a ridiculous schoolgirl. This man had taken her in as his patient, then as an employee. He was her deceased husband’s brother. And a low-down thief, spending Max’s inheritance before Max could even get his hands on it—by all Max had ever said.

Or was he so bad?

The less-than-exemplary titles she’d tacked on Ben were beginning to hang on threads.

“No. She’s not my girl.” His crystal-blue gaze sent her heart fluttering inside her rib cage. “Right now, Miss… Callie is a patient here. Someday when you’re a doctor, you’ll need to make sure that your patients get plenty of rest, too—so that they recover fully. That’s why Callie is here.”

Luke angled a perplexed look her way. “She looks fine to me.”

Smiling, she glanced from the boy to Ben. “You’re a very smart young man, Luke. Very perceptive, indeed.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Ben argued. “She may look better and feel better, but if she gets up and resumes activity too quickly it could cause her to relapse.”

“Relapse?” Luke’s brow creased.

“It means that she’d get sick all over again.” Ben peered down at the boy with steady patience. “We don’t want that, now, do we?”

“No, sirree.” Luke stuck his face in Callie’s line of vision. “Miss Callie, I think you should be lyin’ down. When yer sick, ya gotta make sure you get rest. Jest like Ben said.”

“You’re going to make a good doctor someday,” Ben remarked with a satisfied grin.

“Ya got any stitchin’ that needs to be done on ’er, cuz I can hold ’er down for ya. T’ain’t nothin’ for me to do seein’ as how small she is,” he noted, pointing at Callie as though she wasn’t even in the room.