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RNWMP: Bride for Jonathan (Mail Order Mounties Book 8) Page 9
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“Yes, we have. And I’ve been a little busy since I was assigned here.” Jonathan rubbed his chin. “At this late date, I think it would be awkward to call him something new. Why don’t we just name him Horse?”
“Oh, Dermot would hate that,” Elaine said, chuckling.
“But all the more reason to do it, don’t you think?”
“Maybe so.” She laughed again, then met his eyes. “You really wish you could go out with them tomorrow, don’t you?”
“More than I can even explain. This is the first time I haven’t been able to do my part. But they’re good men—they’ll handle it well.”
She smiled at him. “And in the meantime, you will be doing your part, which is getting better.”
***
Elaine had decided that they should ride over to Dermot and Isabelle’s around suppertime so Isabelle wouldn’t have to eat alone. Jonathan stood in front of Horse, making eye contact with the animal, reestablishing their connection. It had been several days since he’d ridden, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous.
He reached out and took the bridle Elaine had put on the horse, then led him over near the fence that extended from the stall. He wanted a solid structure within reaching distance in case he lost his balance. Elaine stood by the stall, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was trying to look calm, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she was every bit as nervous.
“I’m just going to do it,” he said. “The longer I stand here thinking about it, the worse it will be. After all, it’s a simple matter of balance. There’s nothing too difficult to figure out.”
She nodded.
Jonathan walked around to Horse’s left side, slid his foot in the stirrup, grabbed the pommel with his left hand, and swung up. He threw the right side of his body into place, and while he did go a bit too far to the right in his effort to get all the way up there, he quickly corrected himself, and gained his seat.
“That was wonderful!” Elaine said, clapping. “See? Who needs two hands?”
“Well, you do, in order to clap,” he pointed out.
“Besides me. Oh, you look so good up there. Quite handsome.”
“You know what, I feel good up here.” And he did. The last several days had taken a lot from him, but being able to ride would give some of it back. “You realize that now comes the trickiest part of all.”
“What’s that?”
“Getting you up here behind me.”
“Hmm.” She looked the horse over. “Another balance issue, but that’s all in your legs, isn’t it? You brace your left leg in the stirrup and pull me up with your left arm?”
“To be honest, I’ve never really thought about how I’ve done it. I’ve always just done it.” He guided the horse around in a circle and then brought him up alongside Elaine. “Let’s try it.”
“And if we both end up in the dirt?”
“Then we’ll have an extra batch of laundry. Come on—I got up here. Now it’s your turn.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And that, my dear, is one advantage of having nerve damage. Only one part of my arm hurts, and the rest is numb. Up you come.”
She took another deep breath, steeled herself, then grabbed onto his left arm and jumped as he lifted. He braced both his weight and hers on his left leg, then pushed more weight into his right leg as she settled.
“We did it!” She grabbed his shoulders and hugged him tight. “We did it, Jonathan!”
He wiped his forearm across his brow. That had been harder than he was willing to admit. Practice could only make it easier, but he dreaded the thought of that practice—so many days of lazing around had made his muscles soft, and now they were protesting the sudden jolting.
“Oh, no.” Elaine’s voice had gone from celebratory to despairing. “I forgot to bring out the corn bread. It’s still on the table.”
“Let’s just go without it,” Jonathan suggested. “I was going to pretend to be extra manly, but the truth is, I need time to rest before I try that maneuver again.”
“That’s all right.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “We don’t have to stay for supper with Isabelle—we can just visit and then leave. She’ll never know that I forgot.”
Jonathan was glad his back was turned so Elaine couldn’t see the sudden moisture in his eyes. She was taking responsibility for the lack of corn bread instead of naming the real reason—that he was too tired to lift her again. He hoped she didn’t feel like she always had to cover for him, but the fact that she was willing to do it at the expense of her own pride meant a great deal to him.
“Or we can wait until I’ve rested,” he said. He could take responsibility just as well as she could.
“Or even better, we can just sit here and watch the stars come out. It’s going to be a lovely evening.”
“But cold. Come on—let’s ride over. We could freeze to death sitting like this.” With a nudge to the horse’s sides, they were off, and Jonathan felt more free than he had in a long time.
Chapter Fifteen
After checking on Isabelle, Elaine and Jonathan mounted Horse again, this time more smoothly, and they were off. The breeze was definitely icy, and Elaine held on to Jonathan’s back for all she was worth, her face buried in his coat. She didn’t begrudge using her dress fabric for his bandages, but she did want to replace it as soon as possible or she’d become an icicle.
The next morning, they were both up early. There was tension in the air, as though the very universe itself knew that the Mounties were up to something dangerous. Elaine read to Jonathan for a bit, hoping to keep him distracted, but he seemed fidgety, so she suggested they ride out to visit their Indian friends. Surely Ann and Susan were just as anxious as they were.
When Elaine opened the door to go saddle Horse, however, a wind picked up that nearly blew her backwards, and she struggled against it to close the door again. “I think we should probably stay put,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t imagine trying to ride in that.”
Jonathan looked out the window, worry etched on his face. “I wonder if the Mounties went out in this, or if they’re holed up at the office. Maybe they saw warning signs before they left and decided not to risk it.”
Elaine joined him at the window. She wasn’t used to being so closely involved in a larger group, and her immediate concern had just been for herself and Jonathan. Now she did think about the bigger picture, and a knot grew in her stomach. If the other men were out in this, would they be all right?
“They’ve got good winter gear,” Jonathan replied as though she’d asked her question aloud. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, and they know to take shelter.” Even though he spoke consoling words, she could still hear the tightness in his voice.
They did his arm exercises, taking off the sling and extending the arm, then bringing it back in. He angled it differently each time, turning the wrist and so forth. He was glad to be off the morphine because it meant the pain had decreased, but he would welcome more pain if it meant that the numb areas of his arm were getting their feeling back.
“All right, now let your arm hang loose at your side,” Elaine said, directing him into his last exercise.
He stood straight and let the arm hang. As usual, there was nothing, but then suddenly, a sharp pain ran from his shoulder down into his fingertips, and he yelped.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” she asked, her eyes darting all over his face.
“My arm. It hurts,” he replied.
“Do you want me to get the morphine?” She took a step away, but he reached out and caught her with his left hand.
“Elaine.” He waited until she made eye contact with him again. “My arm hurts.”
He saw her eyes widen the moment the real meaning of his words sank in. “It hurts? You can feel it?”
“Just one sharp pain just now, but yes, I felt it.”
She grabbed his shoulder and jumped up and d
own. “Yes! Yes! Oh, Jonathan, I knew it. I knew this would happen if we just believed long enough.”
“It was just one pain,” he reminded her. “I’m still numb.”
“But one pain means that you’re capable of feeling even more pain,” she said, coming to a stop. “I’m making a pie. We have to celebrate.”
“I won’t argue with you,” he said, smiling into her joy-filled eyes. “And I’ll never turn down pie.”
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then grabbed her apron. He allowed his arm to hang straight down again for another few minutes before putting it back in the sling, hoping and wishing and praying all at the same time.
***
The wind howled and blew all that night. They put extra wood in the stove and huddled close together, keeping a thought in their hearts for the Mounties and also hoping that Isabelle had what she needed. Jonathan had commented on seeing a good stack of wood outside their cabin while they were there, and that gave Elaine some comfort, but she wished she knew for certain how her friend was doing.
The wind finally died down around noon. They had just made up their minds to ride out and check on Isabelle when a loud thump came at the door. Preston stumbled in when Elaine opened it, and he headed right for the stove before he even gave a greeting.
“You’re frozen clean through,” she said, pouring him a cup of coffee and placing it between his shaking hands. He muttered a thanks and downed it in a series of swallows, turning and allowing the stove to warm him on all sides.
“Sit down and rest.” Elaine dragged a chair next to the stove for him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s winter out there,” he said when he could finally speak around the shivers.
“I think you’re right,” Jonathan said with a laugh. “What happened? Where are the others?”
“We split up when the wind calmed,” Preston replied. “Dermot went home to Isabelle, and Wesley went back to Moose Lick to check on Lisa. Oh, and to throw Dubois in jail.”
He added the last bit casually, but Jonathan pounced on it. “You caught him?”
“We caught him. Jimmy’s an amazing tracker.”
Jonathan pounded on Preston’s shoulder. “Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!”
“Yeah, I thought you might like to know.” Preston grinned. “Now, I wouldn’t mind getting back home to my wife either. Could I get some more coffee before I head out?”
“Coffee and some hot food,” Elaine said. “I have stew right here.” She’d never been so glad to serve up a bowl in all her life.
“And we’ll be coming into town for Monday’s meeting,” Jonathan added. “I figured out how to ride while you were all out having fun without me.”
Preston’s smile grew even bigger. “Good. You’ve been missed.”
“I’m sure not anywhere near as much as I’ve missed all of you.”
***
The next morning, Elaine sat on the edge of the bed, brushing through her hair while Jonathan took a turn at the small mirror over the dresser. It was just big enough to show one portion of a person at a time, so he leaned back and forth, turning his head from side to side to make sure he hadn’t forgotten to brush any stray hairs. He really was rather dexterous with his left hand, which was a blessing considering that he was having to use it so much.
The idea leaped into Elaine’s mind so quickly, she startled and blinked. “Jonathan, are you left-handed?” She thought she’d seen him using his right hand before he was injured, but perhaps she’d been wrong.
“I used my left hand most often when I was a young child, but when I started school, my teacher told me to use my right,” he said, placing the brush on the dresser and turning to face her. “Why do you ask?”
“Was it difficult for you to make the adjustment?”
He looked thoughtful. “I think so. I remember feeling like it wasn’t fair, but then I forgot about it. Why? You look excited about something.”
She bounced a little on the edge of the bed. “I’m excited, but I also feel so foolish. Maybe it’s best that I left teaching. I can’t believe I missed it.”
He let out a huge sigh. “Sweetheart, will you please just tell me what’s going on?”
She set down her brush. “All right. Sorry—my brain is just spinning right now. When you were a little boy, you naturally gravitated toward using your left hand. Then when you got into school, you were forced to use your right hand. That was unnatural for you, and it made your brain work differently than it was used to. That in turn could have played a part in your reading difficulties. They could be connected.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Part of the research I was studying posed the question based on the observations of the researchers, but because there was no actual evidence, it’s been thrown out,” Elaine went on. “But I’ve read the preliminaries, and it makes perfect sense to me. Can you still write with your left hand?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried it in years.”
“Let’s try it now.” She hopped off the bed and grabbed a piece of paper, setting it on the table along with a pencil. He followed a bit more slowly and took a seat.
“Start with something simple, like your name,” she said.
“You do realize that nothing’s actually simple for me when it comes to writing,” he reminded her.
“Just try,” she urged.
He picked up the pencil and concentrated, forming the shapes he knew to spell Jonathan Murray.
“How did that feel?” she asked. He could almost feel her eagerness floating in the air.
He shrugged. “I’m not used to writing much of anything, regardless of what hand I use.”
“But can you see the difference? These letters are neater than the ones you wrote last week when we made the list of baby names.”
He studied the page critically. “I can’t see much of a difference.”
“Well, I can, and I’ll see it enough for both of us.” She sat down in the other chair and grinned at him. “From now on, you’re doing everything left-handed. I give you permission to follow your natural instincts. And if I’m correct, we just might see greater improvement in your reading, too.”
“Do you know what?” he said, looking into her shining eyes. “You make me believe that anything is possible.”
“That’s because it is,” she replied.
Chapter Sixteen
The Mounties scheduled their next meeting for a time when the judge would be passing through. Dubois was allowed to offer a defense, but he chose instead to plead guilty, most likely knowing that he would never be found innocent with so many witnesses to the opposite. He was taken off to serve out his sentence in a better jail in a larger town, and Jonathan was quite satisfied with how everything turned out.
The biggest source of his satisfaction came from seeing Jimmy turning his life around. He wasn’t drinking at all anymore, and he was spending his time hunting for food and for pelts both so he could provide for his family. Little Susan’s cheeks had begun to fill out, and he knew that made Elaine happy. He had to admit, he’d never really noticed how gaunt the child was until he saw the difference. He would have to be more observant.
Late one afternoon shortly after the trial, Jonathan sat at the table reading a book to Elaine, who was at the stove. “And they lived happily ever after,” he said. “The end.”
“That was fantastic.” She turned to him, her eyes dancing. “And I bet you’re getting tired of children’s stories.”
“I really am, but they’re probably still the best practice,” he replied.
“I wish someone would write stories for adults using simple language. Things that would be exciting for you to read, but that would still be good practice for you,” she said. He always knew when she was conjuring up a new idea—her eyes went a little dreamy. “I wonder if you and I could do something like that. When I was in college, I sometimes thought I’d like to
write books. This would be the perfect project, don’t you think? Something we could do together?”
Jonathan looked up to reply, but just then, a plume of smoke went up right behind Elaine, and he leaped up and dove for her.
The back of her dress had caught fire from being too close to the stove. He jerked her away and grabbed the water bucket that sat on the floor, dousing her with it. Then he lifted the sack of flour and dumped it on the stove, extinguishing the flames that were threatening to take over that side of the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, gasping. “I can’t believe I was so careless. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. No harm done. You?”
She shook her head, still trying to get enough air. “Fine.”
They each stood that way, breathing hard, calming down. Then he took her in his arms and held her close. “That took a decade off my life,” he said. “Please don’t ever catch fire again.”
“I promise,” she said, laughing. But then seconds later, she exclaimed, “Jonathan! You’re using your right arm!”
He took a step back and looked down. Sure enough, he’d wrapped his right arm around her waist, and now that he thought about it, he’d also used it to put out the fire. He grabbed one of the chairs and sat down on it, his strength going out of him. Too many emotions all at once—he needed a moment.
“It’s a miracle.” Elaine sat down on the other chair, looking as overwhelmed as he felt. “It’s a miracle—that’s all there is to it.”
Knowing there was no other explanation at all, Jonathan agreed.
***
“Believe it or not, this isn’t all that uncommon,” the doctor said after examining Jonathan’s arm. “Sometimes when a nerve heals, it needs a little shock to get it up and going again. It can come to think that it will never function again until it’s made to. Your wife’s accident was just the incentive it needed.”
“I still can’t understand it, but I’ll take it,” Jonathan said, wiggling his fingers. He’d done almost nothing but that since he first felt sensation in them.