Happily Ever After in the West Page 4

  Quentin pulled his attention from Zeke’s sister and moved closer to the table now covered with hive boxes, a knife, a small paintbrush, a smoker and a prying tool.

  Before bringing in the hive boxes, Zeke had pumped smoke over the bees using a small fire cup attached to a miniature bellows. The smoke came from burlap burning in the cup and kept the bees calm while Zeke worked around them. Most of them stayed outside when he carried in the hive box, but there were always a few that remained.

  “Remove one of the frames in the box.”

  The boy lifted off the top cover then took out a frame. Dipping the paintbrush in a cup of water, he brushed away the few remaining insects.

  Quentin knew how much easier the process was than his grandfather’s. He had explained to Zeke that a reverend in Pennsylvania had invented a hive box that used interchangeable parts and individual frames. These could be checked for honey or disease without having to kill or drive off the bees or destroy the hive as had been done in the early days.

  Zeke flashed a satisfied grin. “The bees make honey and honeycomb in the frames.”

  Quentin nodded.

  “And when the comb is filled with honey, they make a wax cap to cover the cells.”

  “Yes.” So far, Zeke remembered everything Quentin had told him. “What you do now is cut off those caps on both sides of the frame.”

  Taking the nearby knife, Zeke did as instructed, carefully cutting the capping into a large tub on the table.

  “Honey can be collected later from the tub, too,” Quentin said. Under his watchful eye, the boy readied two frames. “Put the frames into the extractor so they remain upright. After you clamp them in, turn the crank to spin the cylinder.”

  “And I should go slow at first so the honey’s weight won’t cause the comb to bulge out to one side.”

  “That’s right.” Quentin smiled.

  Earlier, Zeke had watched Quentin go through the process. He had agreed to check the hives and gather honey again, if necessary, while Quentin recovered from surgery.

  “Spin the drum for two or three minutes. After the extractor slows to a stop, turn the frames on their other end and spin again. Once you finish those two, put them in the empty hive box at the end of the table and start with another two frames.”

  Zeke nodded, serious and focused as he cranked the ex traction cylinder. The extractor emptied into a large pail beneath that was draped with cheesecloth to filter out wax and impurities.

  “And I should always leave some honey in the combs for the bees to eat instead of sugar water.”

  “That’s right.” Keeping one eye on his apprentice, Quentin looked back at Zoe just as Burl Upton walked up to her. It reminded Quentin of a question he had wanted to ask her brother.

  “Zeke, why did you tell your grandfather that your sister and I were getting married?”

  Carefully watching the slowing extractor, the boy answered, “I like you and I want you to be with Zoe. Besides, I know you’ll take care of her. She needs that because she’s always taking care of everyone else.”

  As always, Quentin was impressed with Zeke’s concern for his sister. And surprised at how much the young man really comprehended. Most people thought he didn’t pay attention or understand the things he did notice.

  Zoe’s conversation with her grandfather ended. Upton started toward the shed and she followed. She didn’t look upset, but something was definitely on her mind.

  Quentin glanced at Zeke. “Hold up, son. Your grandfather’s coming this way. Cover the extractor and the hive boxes to keep dirt out.”

  The boy did as instructed as a knock sounded on the door. Quentin pushed the protective netting back on his hat and opened the door, rolling his chair outside. Zeke followed, closing the door.

  Quentin removed his hat. “You’re leaving, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “’Bye, Grandfather.” Zeke gave the man an awkward hug. “You can come see us anytime you want.”

  Zoe looked as though she might protest, but all she did was raise a brow.

  Upton cleared his throat. “Y’all should come visit me, too. Anytime.”

  Zeke and Zoe looked startled.

  Quentin could tell Burl was sincere. Maybe he had decided he wanted to be closer to his only remaining family. Since neither brother nor sister had responded, Quentin stuck out a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Upton. We just might do that.”

  The older man looked at Zoe, saying gruffly, “I’d really like it.”

  Zoe looked perplexed as her grandfather bade them all farewell. As he walked away, Quentin glanced at his wife’s face. She looked thoughtful. Almost sad.

  He turned his head toward Zeke. “Go ahead and finish up, Zeke. You’re doing a fine job.”

  After a quick smile at his sister, the boy stepped back into the shed.

  Quentin waited until the door was closed before wheeling his chair in front of Zoe. “Everything okay?”

  “That was strange.” Her gaze followed Upton until he disappeared around the corner of the livery. She gave Quentin a polite smile as she looked toward the Fontaine hotel. “Grandfather told me he transferred the money to my account and he took care of Dinah’s tuition.”

  “That’s good news. What has you looking so serious?”

  She huffed out a breath. “Oh, he started on about me working now that you and I are married. He said you wouldn’t want me to. I don’t see how he could know what you want.”

  “Whatever you do is fine with me. If you don’t want to work any longer, I can take care of us.”

  She looked at him then, a slight frown gathering on her forehead. “That’s nice, Quentin, but not necessary. Now that I have my inheritance, I can take care of my brother and me. I like working, especially at the hotel.” She snorted. “He said I should get busy havin’ kids.”

  Quentin wanted to say he would help with that, but that depended on the outcome of his surgery. “Do you want kids?”

  He’d never thought to ask. Hell, he’d never thought it a possibility for him.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I could ask Annalise about it. We might be able to—”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t.”

  He couldn’t stop a rush of disappointment, but he wasn’t surprised. It would take time and patience to change her mind about being intimate with him.

  “Before my surgery tomorrow, I plan to talk to Annalise about it.”

  “No, Quentin.”

  “Are you embarrassed? I’ll speak with her privately.”

  “I mean, there’s no need to talk to her. At least not for me.”

  “It’s something we might need to know in the future.”

  She was quiet for so long that a drum of apprehension began inside him. “Once you’re recovered from surgery,” she said, “and Annalise says it’s all right for you to do things on your own, I’ll be moving out.”

  “The hell you will!”

  Looking startled at his outburst, she drew back.

  “We’re married, Zoe,” he gritted out. “That means forever.”

  “I told you I don’t want that.”

  “Well, I do.”

  She shook her head.

  A low-grabbing pain knotted his belly. “You can’t forgive me for how I treated you years ago.”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “Then what?”

  She looked him square in the eye. “I’ve forgiven you, but I won’t let you hurt me again. I can’t.”

  “Things are different now. I said vows to you and I meant them. Are you saying you didn’t mean anything you said to me?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “When Annalise thinks it’s all right, Zeke and I will be moving back to our place.”

  The words slammed into him like a bullet. He reached for her, but she stepped away. He felt so damn helpless sitting here, unable to touch her.

  “I have to go or I’ll be late for my shift at the Fontaine.”

  He wan
ted to hit something. As he watched her hurry away, he decided he wasn’t giving up. Not yet. She still had feelings for him and somehow he would get her to admit it.

  Now he wasn’t working only against a skittish wife, he was also working against time.

  The next day, Zoe stood beside her husband’s bed and listened as Annalise described the surgery Quentin was about to undergo. The doctor would put him under using chloroform then make a cut on his spine and see if she could determine whether surgery might enable him to walk again.

  A knock sounded on the open bedroom door and Zoe looked over to find Cora Wilkes Baldwin. The older woman’s smile took in Zoe and her husband, but she spoke to Zoe. “I thought you might want someone to sit with you during the surgery.”

  As Cora’s husband, J.T., had undergone a similar procedure less than a month ago, Zoe welcomed the offer.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good.” Cora came into the room, greeting Annalise.

  Quentin squeezed Zoe’s hand and smiled. She smiled back then moved to help the doctor scoot the bed away from the wall. That would enable Annalise to easily access her patient and her surgical instruments from wherever necessary.

  On the small table against the wall, the doctor laid out her instruments then the inhaler she would use to administer anesthetic.

  “Ready to get started?” she asked Quentin.

  “Yes.” Using the strap beside his bed, he levered himself out of the wheelchair and onto the mattress.

  Zoe had assured the doctor that she would be able to assist with the surgery, and she watched as Annalise filled the inhaler’s reservoir with chloroform. Using a hand-bellows, Zoe would pump air through a tube into the chloroform. A second tube would carry the mixture of air and anesthetic to the patient as a gas, which Annalise would administer.

  Zoe was fully prepared to help. She wanted to. But when she reached for the small bellows, her hand shook.

  Astonished, she threw a look at the doctor. She hadn’t expected the surgery to rattle her this much. “I’m not sure I can do this,” she said in a low voice.

  With a gentle smile, Cora left her place beside Zeke and walked over to Zoe. “I can do it.”

  “Thank you. I think that would be best.”

  Hoping she wasn’t letting Quentin down, she passed the hand-bellows to the older woman. When Zoe started around the bed to make room for Cora, Quentin reached for her. “Zoe?”

  She paused, her throat tightening at the worry in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  “Okay.” Relief settled on his features and he released her hand.

  On wobbly legs, she moved several feet away to stand beside her brother. She watched Annalise place a rubber mask over Quentin’s nose and mouth then Cora began a slow pumping with the hand-bellows. Before too long, Quentin lost consciousness and the doctor began.

  Zoe had never considered herself squeamish, but that was Quentin’s blood. She looked away.

  Annalise worked meticulously, explaining the procedure as she went. Zoe prayed her husband would have no trouble waking up.

  J. T. Baldwin had gone into a coma after his back surgery and the possibility that Quentin might do the same scared Zoe spitless.

  Her brother seemed to sense her anxiety. He slid an arm around her shoulders. “He’ll be okay, sister.”

  Blinking back tears, she smiled up at him. Even if Quentin didn’t regain his ability to walk, he had to recover from the surgery. He just had to.

  After what seemed an eternity, Annalise stitched Quentin up.

  Zoe wrapped her arms around her middle. “How long until he wakes?”

  “Maybe an hour.” The doctor glanced up from placing a bandage over his incision. “It may not even take that long.”

  Zoe didn’t draw a full breath the entire time. When Quentin’s eyes finally fluttered open, her relief was so great that her chest ached.

  She walked to the bed and put a hand on his shoulder as Annalise spoke quietly to him.

  “I removed a bullet fragment from beside your spine. If that was the cause of your paralysis, chances are good you’ll regain your ability to walk.”

  Quentin gave a groggy smile. “Any problems?”

  “Not a one.” The doctor looked at Zoe. “He needs to rest. We can talk when he’s more himself.”

  “Thank you,” Zoe said hoarsely. “Thank you.”

  “He’ll sleep off and on the rest of the day.”

  After issuing instructions and promising to check in later, Annalise and Cora left. Zoe looked down at her sleeping husband.

  Emotion welled inside her. Reaching out a trembling hand, she smoothed a lock of hair away from his forehead.

  “Sister?” Zeke came up beside her, his voice sober with concern.

  “I’m okay,” she said reassuringly. “And Quentin is, too.”

  “Good.” Her brother nodded. “I’ll fetch you a chair so you can sit.”

  “Thank you.” Initially, Zoe had thought she would check on Quentin throughout the day following his surgery, but she wanted to stay.

  As her brother disappeared into the hall, she recalled what she had said to Quentin about not staying.

  She knew she’d done the right thing by telling him that she and Zeke would be leaving once Quentin was recovered enough from his operation.

  That didn’t mean she had liked doing it. In fact, she’d hated it. When those words had come out of her mouth, Quentin had looked destroyed.

  She might not want to admit it, but the man had deep feelings for her. She had feelings for him, too, even though she didn’t want them.

  He’d quickly masked the flash of pain in his eyes, but it had reached right out and clutched at her heart.

  She didn’t want to hurt him; she couldn’t let him hurt her either. Staying with him longer would make her want more with him, make her want the real marriage he’d talked about.

  Was such a thing really possible? If what she’d felt from him the night before was any indication, then, yes. He could be her husband in every sense.

  But what if the surgery didn’t work? Would he be even more bitter than he had been when he had first lost the ability to walk?

  She didn’t want to think so. His attitude had appeared to really change, certainly concerning her. And he showed a lot of patience with Zeke. Her brother was the one person Quentin had never pushed away.

  Of course, Zeke couldn’t really be pushed away. The teen never remembered a wrong done to him, never held a grudge. He just didn’t have it in him, which was another reason Zoe felt so protective of him. Quentin had shown signs of that same protectiveness, and not just to butter her up. His regard for her brother was sincere and that meant a lot to her.

  Quentin’s regard for her was sincere, too. And the man was committed to making their marriage work.

  For the first time, Zoe questioned her decision to leave.

  Ten days after his surgery, Quentin and Zoe made their way down the side of Main Street. Still in his wheelchair, Quentin liked being outside when he could.

  As he rolled down the street, Zoe walked alongside him. They had made one turn around Whirlwind and stopped at the Pearl for a glass of lemonade. Just as they crossed the street to head home, a short, wizened man walked down the ramp in front of the newspaper office. He wore a suit jacket and bowler hat. Zoe thought he had to be hot. Summers weren’t gentle in Texas. Even Quentin wore a light cotton white shirt with the sleeves rolled back.

  The older man stopped in front of Quentin and Zoe, extending a hand to Quentin. “I’m told you work at the Prairie Caller.”

  “Yes.” Quentin shook the man’s hand.

  “I’m Egan Weaver, an agent for the Weaver Water Company. I’d like to post a notice in your paper.”

  Zoe could see the fatigue on Quentin’s face. She hoped he wasn’t going to start back to work already.

  Before she could beg off for him, Quentin did it. “I’ve recently had surgery and I’m
not working at the moment. Hoot Eckert is the man you want to see. He’s the editor for the Caller and usually returns from lunch around one-thirty.”

  “I’ll see Mr. Eckert, then. Thank you.” Weaver tipped his bowler hat to Zoe. “Good day, ma’am.”

  “Good day.”

  As the man walked toward the Fontaine, Zoe continued down the street with Quentin. She looked back, seeing the man disappear inside Whirlwind’s newest hotel. “Why do you think he’s here?”

  “Maybe to determine if Whirlwind needs water.”

  “Which we do.”

  “His company might want to drill a water well,” Quentin said. “I’ve heard about companies that do the drilling. We would all have to contribute, maybe by buying into the venture. Or by buying bonds that would pay back our money when they mature.”

  “Most people don’t have the money to buy bonds right now. It’s all they can do to put food on the table.”

  They reached Quentin’s house and went up the ramp. Zoe opened the door. As he wheeled his chair past her, he said, “Things are desperate here, especially for ranchers and farmers who need water for crops and livestock. Some people will find the money to buy into that water well, if that’s a possibility.”

  “Do you think they should?” Zoe had counted pennies for years now. “It sounds risky to me.”

  “This type of venture has worked in other places across the country, but I don’t know this Weaver fella. I’m not sure if he’s with a reputable water company or not.”

  Nodding, she moved to the side of the door. “How are your legs today? Do you still have sensation?”

  The question had Quentin grinning. “Yes, and I’m able to move my ankles now as well as my toes. Sensation seems to have finally returned.”

  “What about the pain?”

  “My feet and legs still tingle, but nothing like they did right after the operation.”

  “You’re doing so well, I can move back to my room.”

  “No.” A muscle flexed in his jaw, but his voice was light when he said, “What if I need help during the night?”

  “You’re just using that as an excuse to get me to stay.”

  “Is it working?” His eyes twinkled.