Page 56 of My Heart Will Find You

At the entrance to the stables, a half dozen cowboys were gathered, all of them looking down at something. She could see Max’s head in the middle.

Etta pushed her way through them to stand by her husband. Rufus was on the ground. His left pant leg was ripped and soaked in blood. There was a deep cut in his thigh, and someone had tied a tourniquet above it. He was pale from loss of blood. The expressions all the men wore were horrible to see. It was as though Rufus was a dead man.

When one of the men drove up in the buckboard, Etta said, “You’re taking him to a doctor?”

Max put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the crowd. “Rufus is going to lose his leg. If he lives at all.” He said it as a fact, not a possibility.

“But—”

“The only doctor around here is an old army surgeon. Cut your finger and he’ll saw off your arm. There’s no other choice.”

“Take him to Martha,” Etta said.

“Martha Garrett?”

“Yes!” She put her hands on his arm. “Please trust me. She’ll know what to do. Does she live far away?”

“She’s closer than town.”

Behind them, the crowd parted and Pat came out, carrying Rufus like he was a child. He gently laid him in the back of the buckboard, then Hank jumped in beside him. Another man took over the reins.

Max climbed onto the seat beside the driver. “We’re taking him to Martha Garrett.”

“But the doc’s in town,” the driver said. At Max’s look, he nodded, then drove away at breakneck speed.

Etta stood there for a moment, thinking of the dangers of nineteenth century life. No emergency services, no quick communication, a doctor who sawed off limbs no matter what the injury.

The men were looking miserable and she understood. Rufus was liked by everyone. His long-winded stories entertained them. None of them seemed to have any hope that they’d ever again see him alive.

Etta didn’t know where Pat was, but Nellie was in the house. She went through three rooms before she found her. Nellie and Tobias were sitting together on a hard horsehair-covered sofa. She was eating one of the biscuits Etta had made, and Tobias was telling her about the accounts he was doing.

“This is the number of calves that were produced last year, and this is how much it cost to feed them. This number is the important one. It’s the profits. Not bad, is it? Maxwell is a good manager.”

As Etta leaned against the door frame, she blinked back tears. She was seeing her father with his beloved granddaughter. He’d never believed in reading fairy tales to children. “Useless things,” he said. “The price of the glass slipper was more important than whose foot it fit.”

Whatever his reasoning, Nola was exceptional at mathematics.

Tobias looked up and saw Etta. Startled, he stood up. “I was just...” He didn’t seem to know how to explain what he was doing.

Etta stepped forward. “Thank you. There was an accident and it was upsetting.” She held out her hand to Nellie, who took it, and they left the room.

“You enjoyed that?”

“Yes. He’s a nice man, but the town doesn’t like him.”

“Right,” Etta said. “Preaching. I think he likes numbers better than sermons. What do you think?”

“I think he likes anything better than sermons.”

Etta laughed. “I have a gift for you and something for us to do.” They were walking through the kitchen on the way to the back door. She’d left the paint set in the buggy, but Etta was glad to see that someone had put it on the kitchen table.Good, she thought. She didn’t want to expose Nellie to the gloom of the men or see it herself.

She handed the pretty box to Nellie and she opened it.

“What is it?”

“Watercolors. Come with me.” In the main parlor there were three framed landscapes and Etta had an idea that Alice had done them. “Like them?”

Nellie nodded.

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