NoRegretsColeNC Read online

  “If you’re looking for Miss Richards, she’s taking care of a few errands this morning.” Dr. Kellerman approached, holding out an arm. “I can help you to the door.”

  “No, I don’t want any help.” He glanced across the room. The distance between himself and the open door couldn’t have been more than a few feet. It might as well have been a mile. His courage faltered as he took his first, tentative step.

  He couldn’t do it alone. He needed Hattie’s encouragement, the quiet strength that lay beneath her softness. He wanted to see her one last time, and most of all, he wanted to give her any apologies he might owe her for anything he’d said or done. She was nowhere to be seen. Probably for the best.

  He let out a sigh. Yes, better that he walk away, leave Hattie Mae to her innocent faith in humanity, and allow her to go right on seeing the good in everybody.

  With one last glance around the white-washed room with its stark, bare walls and tiny windows, Willie squared his shoulders, put his weight on the crutch, and slowly made his way to the door.

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “You take care of yourself, Willie. You have any trouble with that leg, you come to see me.”

  “I will.” His spirits brightened. He could come back, could ask Dr. Kellerman to check him over, and most likely he’d be able to see Hattie Mae. “Yes, sir, if I have any problem, I’ll be back.”

  The doctor walked alongside him—close enough to assist if needed, but distant enough to give Willie the chance to make it on his own. Although slow, his progress was steady.

  Out the door, down the narrow corridor, to the front.

  Sweat broke out on Willie’s forehead. His knuckles hurt as he gripped the crutch. At every step, he wished again it were Hattie at his side, not Abner Kellerman. He suspected the Kellermans had sent Hattie out that morning, deliberately keeping her away from the hospital until he was gone.

  He didn’t like the idea but figured walking out of her life—even if that meant hobbling away with one good leg and a crutch—would be the noblest act he’d ever performed.

  Finally they stood outside. The morning sunlight nearly blinded him. Gradually, his eyes adjusted. He looked about, turning toward the mountain peaks in the distance. He breathed in the fresh, clean air.

  Thoughts of new beginnings filled his head. He pushed them aside. As much as he might want to start over and make a new life for himself, it would never happen. He was still Willie Morse, and he could never be more than he was—only the obnoxious son of a corrupt federal judge.

  “Are you taking the stage to Denver?” Dr. Kellerman asked after a quick glance toward the deserted street.

  Willie shook his head. “No, I’m not going to Denver.”

  “Why not? Aren’t you going to stay with your mother?”

  He didn’t want to deal with questions—or answers—about his plans. What could he say? “I’ve decided to stay in Sunset. I’ll get a room.” The doctor probably knew he was lying.

  A boarding house would be good—if he had any money. He didn’t. And he’d have a hard time finding work with a bad leg.

  “I think you’d be better off to stay with your mother, Willie.”

  “No, I don’t want to be a burden to her.”

  “That’s considerate of you, I suppose, but don’t you think she’s concerned?” He scratched at his jaw. “I’m surprised she wasn’t on the first stage to Sunset when she learned about the accident.”

  “She doesn’t care what happens to me.” Willie leaned his weight on the crutch and sucked in his breath, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. “I’ll get on fine, Doc. Don’t worry about me.”

  Without another word, he tottered away, his steps awkward and uncertain. Where was he headed? Willie didn’t have a clue, but he kept on going anyway.

  * * * *

  The heels of Hattie’s boots click-clacked over the wooden floor as she swooped up one aisle of the mercantile and down the other, hurriedly gathering up the items on the lengthy shopping list in her hand. Sometimes she felt more like hired help than a nurse in training. Lately, both the doctor and his wife had been assigning her more trivial tasks, sending her out on errands, and keeping her busy with a multitude of household chores. Mrs. Kellerman had effectively taken over as Willie’s nurse, only allowing Hattie to help with small tasks from time to time.

  She swallowed back the doubts rising. Obviously, the Kellermans questioned her abilities. Hadn’t she questioned herself as well? Despite her overpowering desire to be of service in some way, she’d not yet found her true calling. The sight of blood made her faint, the tar-like smell of carbolic left her gagging, and as had been pointed out to her in no uncertain terms, she was too sensitive to the needs of others. She felt too much. She cared too much.

  Weren’t those the qualities a good nurse should have? Hattie still puzzled over it, even as she knew that her heart had strayed dangerously close to some invisible line. She did have feelings for Willie, not only as a patient in her care, but as a human being, as a man who was hurting.

  Or was it more? Had she somehow come to care about him in ways she shouldn’t?

  She chided herself for her foolishness, instructed Martha Taylor to put everything on the Kellermans’ business account, and picked up the two boxes containing the supplies and merchandise she’d purchased. Carrying them proved a challenge. Stepping out from the store, Hattie jostled the boxes in her arms and tried to see around them as she set off for the hospital.

  When she drew near, she caught sight of a hunched-over figure limping off in the opposite direction. From a distance, the poor fellow might well have been an aged, decrepit old man, barely able to ambulate. Hattie knew better.

  Clutching tight to the boxes, she dashed ahead, stopping only long enough to set her burdens down on the porch before resuming her chase.

  “Willie,” she called out as soon as she was within shouting distance.

  He stopped and turned. “Hattie.” His voice rang out like a bell pealing on a joyous occasion.

  She raced forward, breaking into a huge smile. “So, you’ve been dismissed?” she asked. A ridiculous question, of course. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  “Don’t be. No regrets, you know,” he chided. “Besides, you’re here now.” He leaned on his crutch and smiled, but then his face turned serious. “It’s good to see you, but you’d better get back. I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble.”

  “Right.” Hattie thought of the two boxes she’d abandoned on the hospital’s porch. She’d hear about her carelessness. “I do need to get back,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder. “But not without first wishing you well.”

  “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Dr. Kellerman says the leg is almost as good as new. I’ll be using this crutch for a time, maybe I’ll need a cane for a while.” He shrugged. “Maybe for the rest of my life. Hard to say. But I’ll do all right.”

  Hattie wanted to know more, but how could she ask all the questions on her mind without seeming to pry? Such a thing was impossible. She gritted her teeth and hoped Willie wouldn’t be offended by her queries.

  “Have you arranged a place to stay? Are you going to be working? How will you get on, Willie?”

  He moved his shoulders slightly. Hattie guessed it was a shrug of sorts. With him leaning heavily on the crutch, it was difficult to tell.

  “I’ll manage. I’ll get a room. Of course, I’ll have to find work. I plan to start looking tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll find something suitable.”

  His words set her mind at ease. “It’s good that you’ve got a plan.” And a positive attitude. She smiled, relieved to see that Willie appeared to be on the right track at last.

  “And no more liquor? No whiskey? No drinking?”

  He held up a hand. “I swear.”

  Hattie gave silent thanks. She suddenly felt awkward, unsure what to do with her hands and arms.
Although she had an urge to reach out and hug Willie, she pushed the impulse aside. If she acted on it, she’d probably end up knocking the man off his feet, and what would she do then?

  She shoved a hand forward, clasped his, and shook it heartily.

  “Take good care of yourself, Mr. Morse.”

  Hattie reverted to formality, knowing that the casual relationship they’d shared during his hospital stay had now come to an end. She should be happy for him, glad to celebrate his recuperation from his injuries. She was happy for him. So why did her heart feel so heavy?

  * * * *

  “Dr. Kellerman says she’s going to be just fine.” Hattie patted Lucille Henderson’s hand. The very expectant mother, who also happened to be the doctor’s daughter-in-law, had rushed to the hospital that morning. Faith, the oldest of the Henderson girls, had been playing in one of the horse barns and had taken a tumble from the hay loft. “No broken bones,” Hattie assured the anxious woman, grateful to give good news.

  Emily Sue Brooks sat beside Lucille, holding Faith on her lap. She worked for the Henderson family, tending the rambunctious little ones and helping Lucille with household chores. Hattie enjoyed seeing her friend and former roommate from Miss Brundage’s Female Academy.

  “I doubt she’ll be climbing up into the loft again any time soon,” Emily remarked with a laugh. Already little Faith was squirming about.

  “I want to see Grandpa again. Where’s Grandma?” She wriggled herself free of Emily’s hold and tapped at her mother’s protruding belly. “Take me to see Grandma. Please?”

  Lucille rose slowly. “Yes, let’s do that.” Due to her pregnancy, this was the first time she’d been to town for many months. “Emily, do you mind if we stay and visit for a while?”

  “I don’t mind at all. That will give me a chance to chat with Hattie, too.”

  With smiles all around, Lucille led Faith from the room. As soon as they were out the door, Hattie rushed to her friend’s side.

  “Emily, has Willie been around to see you and Ben lately?”

  “Since his accident, you mean?”

  Hattie nodded. She knew Willie and Ben, Emily’s husband, had become friends, for a time, at least. Apparently, like so many other things in his life, Willie had let the friendship go.

  “I haven’t seen him since he left the hospital. It’s been two weeks.” Hattie suspected her voice might well give her away, but she couldn’t disguise her feelings. She truly missed Willie. Even more, she wanted to know how he was faring. “He was supposed to come back to have the doctor look at his leg. He hasn’t.”

  Emily studied Hattie with a concerned look. “Hattie Mae! I hope that gleam I see in your eyes isn’t a sign you’re smitten with Willie Morse. He’s not worth it, you know. You deserve better. Much better.” She folded her arms across her chest and let out an awful harrumph. At once she grimaced. “Heaven help me, I sound just like my father. I hate it when he makes that noise.”

  Wishing she were more adept at holding her emotions in, Hattie let out a sigh. “Willie’s not as awful as you’ve made him out to be. At least, not now.” She knew Emily had never liked Willie Morse or his pompous father. “I think maybe the accident changed him.”

  “There you go again.” Emily rolled her pretty blue eyes. “You’re always seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, and now, gracious sakes, you’ve got me talking in adages, too, the way you do..”

  “What’s wrong with seeing the best in people?”

  “Not everyone deserves respect, that’s what. Especially Willie Morse.” Emily shuddered.

  “That’s an awful thing to say. He deserves respect, and even more, he deserves a chance to put his life together again. He’s trying. He’s really trying.” She said it again, her fervor obvious.

  Emily remained silent for a moment and then gave her head a shake. “No, he’s not. That accident didn’t change him, Hattie, and you’re a fool if you think otherwise. He’s gone right back to his old ways. Ben said he’s hanging out at the saloon, getting drunk—”

  Hattie gasped. “He’s not!”

  “—then sleeping it off at the livery.”

  Already Hattie had grabbed her shawl and thrown it on. She huffed out a breath. “I’m going over there right now. I’ll have a talk with him.” She plopped a straw bonnet on her head.

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Emily caught her by the shoulder. “Willie’s a grown man. He’s got to figure things out for himself. You don’t need to get involved with him.”

  Hattie tightened her shawl around her shoulders. “Everybody else in this town has given up on Willie. I won’t.” She gathered her skirts and whirled around. She knew Emily stood staring at her, mouth agape, but no matter. She’d heard enough.

  Chapter Five

  Hattie’s feet fairly flew over the boardwalk. The thought of Willie falling back into his old habits, of him throwing his life away without a care made her mad enough to spit nails. As she sped toward the livery, people stepped out of her way. Good thing. As angry as she was, she couldn’t see straight and wouldn’t have had time for apologies if she’d run somebody down.

  One hand holding her hat to her head, she raced onward. By the time she’d reached Josiah Beardsley’s establishment, Hattie Mae was plumb out of breath. She leaned against the open doorway, watching as the owner—a middle-aged man dressed in dingy bib overalls—shuffled through the musty straw.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  “Yes, you certainly can.” She pressed a hand to her heart, getting the words out between gasps for air.

  He studied her with obvious concern. “Are you all right? Are you going to faint, miss? Should I call someone—”

  “I’m fine.” She waved the words away and drew herself up. “Is it true, Mr. Beardsley? Are you letting Willie Morse stay in the back of your barn?”

  “Am I doing what?” He cupped a hand to his ear and bent forward.

  “Are you allowing Willie Morse to live here?”

  Josiah shook his head. “This is a livery, miss, not a boarding house.” His dark eyes examined her once more. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. I’m perfectly fine.” She wished the man would stop worrying so much about her and listen to what she was saying. “I’m concerned about Mr. Morse, however, and I was told he’s been sleeping here. Do you mind if I see for myself?”

  Josiah’s hair—a curious mix of gray and gold—hung down nearly to his thin shoulders. He ran a bony hand through it and frowned.

  “I’m not sure what it is you’re all heated up about.”

  “Oh, never mind. Just step aside, Mr. Beardsley. I’ll handle this myself.” She shoved him out of her way as she marched forward. “Obviously,” she threw back over her shoulder, “you don’t care what becomes of him.”

  But she did.

  The realization shook her. Charlotte Kellerman was right. She did care about Willie. Too much. He was no longer a patient at the hospital, and what he chose to do—or not do—should be none of Hattie’s concern.

  She stepped inside the musty structure. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimness of the stable. She sniffed. The pungent smells of horses and hay assaulted her nostrils.

  “Willie Morse, are you in here? I know you are.”

  Only a soft nickering answered.

  She inched her way forward, glancing about at each step. When she finally saw him, stretched out sound asleep on a tattered blanket spread across the dirt-packed floor, her heart lurched. Her hands balled into tight fists.

  Cautiously, Hattie nudged his ribcage with the toe of her boot. His only reaction was to grab the blanket, draw it up around him, and turn over.

  “Get up, Willie,” she said, nudging a little harder.

  This time, he rolled over and opened one eye. He stared up at her but seemed to be having trouble bringing her—or anything else, for that matter—into focus.

  Josiah came trotting up behind her. He p
ushed the cap back on his head. “Well, I’ll be, but you’re right, Miss Richards..” Now, he gave Willie a kick. “Get up. You can’t sleep here. Leastways, not unless you want to be saddled up and ridden tomorrow, or maybe hitched up to some dray. Come to think of it, maybe…”

  “What are you muttering about?” Willie propped himself up on one elbow and opened both eyes. His attention turned to Hattie. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to check up on you. I thought we had an understanding. You were going to look for work, stay away from the saloon, and get your life together. Was everything you said a lie?”

  “Look, I tried, all right? Nobody had any work. I’ve got no money, no place to go. What am I supposed to do?”

  Hattie put her hands on her hips and turned to Josiah Beardsley. “Didn’t I see a sign on your door? One advertising a position?”

  “Yes, I reckon you did.” He glared down at Willie. “You seem to like sleeping in my stables. You willing to work in return for a place to lay your head?”

  “Hell, no, I’m not shoveling shit.” He brushed the straw from his clothing. “Sorry for the language, Hattie.” Her face reddened.

  Josiah folded his long arms over his lanky form. “Suit yourself.” He spat a wad of tobacco toward the corner. “Either get to work or get off my hay.”

  “Fine. Lousy accommodations here anyway.”

  “Never claimed to be a first-class establishment, did I?” Josiah grabbed a shovel and thrust it out. Willie ignored it.

  “So, I see exactly how it is now.” Hattie made a snorting sound, most unladylike. “I should have guessed this would happen. You’ve got no respect for anybody, least of all for yourself.” She lifted her chin slightly, gave Willie a cool look, and then walked away without another word.

  “Hattie, wait!” Dragging his stiff, sore leg over the hard dirt floor, he lumbered after her. “Give me a chance to explain.”

  “What is there to explain? You lied, Willie. Plain and simple.”

  “That’s not true.” He plucked more bits of straw from his hair. “I did look for work.”