Innocent Hearts Part 14

Hannah shrugged. "It's not for me to approve or disapprove. I just think that Kate knows her mind."

"So you think that we should encourage this madness? That I should allow that young woman to see Kate?" Martha queried defensively. Oh, if only they had never left Boston!

"Martha," Hannah said quietly, "I lost my three youngest in the epidemic of '52. It's a sorrow you never get over, burying a child." She saw the expression of pain and fright in Martha's face, and regretted causing it, but she continued on, fearing Kate's loss more than Martha's anger. "Love has strange power. If Jessie Forbes can keep Kate with you, I'd surely say pride had no place in the matter."

Martha stared at her wordlessly. Kate had barely been conscious the last twelve hours, and when she had managed any words at all, she had whispered Jessie's name. Hannah was right. If there was any chance under heaven that this young woman could make a difference - well, she'd worry about the rest of it later. She turned determinedly toward the stairs. "Thank you, Hannah," she murmured as she hurried past.

Jessie faced Martin in the doorway, very close to losing all control. "I must see Kate!" she repeated, her voice dangerously low.

Martin continued to stand in her way, his grief overpowering all reason. He couldn't think of anything except that Kate had planned to leave them, and now she might. "Kate is going to die in peace," he shouted, his anger at the monstrous injustice seeking any object upon which to vent his rage.

Jessie pa.s.sed a quivering hand over her eyes, unable to bear his words. "No. Please. Just let me see her."

"Why," he said harshly, "what can you do?"

Jessie met his gaze, her face filled with torment. "I love her. Please, I -"

"Get out!" he ordered stonily.

Jessie's could bear the agony no longer. She would not let Kate go this way. She could not. "Get out of my way or I'll kill you!" She reached reflexively for her revolver, but did not draw it, some last fragment of sanity stilling her hand.

Martha gasped, uncertain from the look on Jessie's face whether she meant to shoot Martin or herself. Martha descended the last few steps and moved suddenly between them. "Stop this, both of you! Carrying on this way with Kate upstairs.'' She turned to her husband, her eyes resolute. "Let her go to her, Martin. What harm can it do now?"

Jessie was already past them, taking the stairs two at a time. She slowed when she saw Hannah standing in an open doorway and stepped quietly past her into a dimly lit room, finding her breath suddenly short. She scarcely registered the valise standing open by the closet, nor anything about the room other than the slight figure in the bed. Her heart hammered so hard in her chest she thought its sound alone might awaken Kate. There was an eerie stillness about the way Kate lay motionless, eyes closed, face pale and glistening with sweat. The bedcovers barely rose with each shallow, labored breath. Jessie knelt next to her, reaching out with trembling fingers to gently stroke Kate's cheek.

"Kate," she murmured, the word a faint cry. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself, then spoke again, her voice stronger. "Kate, love. It's Jessie." She pressed her lips to Kate's hot palm, her own warm tears landing softly on the fragile skin. "Kate, can you hear me?"

After what seemed a very long time and with tremendous effort, Kate's lids flickered open and her gaze rested feverishly on Jessie's face. "Jessie?"

Jessie rejoiced. Kate was not gone. She would not let her go. "Yes, love. I'm here."

"I - tried- to come," Kate managed, wanting so much for Jessie to know that.

"I know," Jessie choked, drowning in her fear. She struggled for strength, gasping, "And when you are well again, we will be together always. I promise you, Kate. I promise," she repeated desperately. Her voice broke. "Please, Kate."

Kate's eyes were suddenly quite clear, and very calm. She smiled at Jessie, and her voice held an odd note of peace. "I won't be going away with you, Jessie darling. You must be without me for a while."

Jessie shook her head, her body wracked with sobs. "No, Kate! You will be well again."

Kate shook her head weakly and raised her hand to Jessie's tear-streaked face. "Jessie, my only love. You must say goodbye."

Martha Beecher, watching from the hall, stifled a sob and turned away as Jessie leaned over to press her lips to Kate's. This moment was not hers to witness.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

AS THE DARKEST hours of night enshrouded the Beecher home, Martha returned to Kate's room. She entered silently, stopping at the sound of soft words murmured in quiet desperation. Jessie was still on her knees at Kate's bedside, her head bowed over Kate's still figure, Kate's hand clasped in both of hers. She was no longer crying, but her voice cracked with anguish.

"Kate," she implored, sure that somewhere, Kate heard her. "I love you, Kate. Oh Lord, Kate, I don't know how I'll -" She brushed at the tears that fell again, drawing a shaky breath. She couldn't let Kate die being worried for her. She straightened her shoulders, but each word tore pieces from her heart. "It will be all right, Kate. I will never leave you, I swear. I will wait here, or hereafter, however long it need be. I am here, love."

Martha placed her hand gently on Jessie's trembling shoulder, shocked at her frailty. Her hard strength seemed to have dissolved as Kate's life slipped away. "Jessie," Martha murmured, her anger and suspicion disappearing in the face of Jessie's torment. "Let it go, child. The Lord will do His bidding."

Jessie turned to Martha in mute despair. Martha was stunned by the desolation in her eyes, and, instinctively, she reached out to comfort a suffering soul. She wrapped Jessie in her arms, holding her while she cried, rocking her and stroking her damp face. At last Martha led Jessie stumbling to a chair by the window.

"Wait here. We will know by morning," Martha said hollowly. She took a chair by Kate's beside to keep vigil. Absently, she reached for the thin leather volume that she had found in Kate's luggage. The book fell open to a well-read page. Martha picked up the photo marking the place and studied the image by the dim light of the oil lamp. Martha could see that Jessie had been smiling at Kate when Kate took the photograph. There was a carefree exuberance about her that made Martha's heart ache. They were both so young, and for a moment she forgot that they were two young women, seeing only the love she could not deny. She began to read the poem that Kate had marked with Jessie's photograph.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife...

Her vision blurred and she could not go on, feeling as if she had tread upon some sacred place. She looked from Kate's fragile countenance to Jessie's haunted face and prayed for them both.

As the hours pa.s.sed, Kate's fever consumed her, draining the last reserves of strength from her weakened body. Her breathing grew more and more labored, and finally Martha rose to find her husband, fearing that it might already be too late for him to say goodbye. Her eyes met Jessie's, and Martha had to look away, shaken by the agony in them. She had not thought it possible that anyone, man or woman, could love so unreservedly as that.

When Martha and Martin Beecher entered the silent room just before dawn, Jessie stood by the window looking out into blackness, her back to them, her face veiled in shadows. She did not turn, knowing what they would find. She had heard when the faint arduous struggles of Kate's uneven breathing had stopped, and in that instant, a darkness deeper than night had fallen over her world. It would remain there, she knew, forever. Martha's m.u.f.fled cry, and Martin's faint groan, pierced her heart and she closed her eyes. She could not bear knowing Kate was gone, even if it might be to some better place. For that she fervently hoped, but it gave her no comfort as the first terrible anguish of loss ripped through her.

In a moment, she thought, in a moment I will go and leave them with their daughter, and their grief. She kept one hand braced tightly on the windowsill, uncertain that her legs would carry her from the room. Her body trembled uncontrollably.

"Martin!" Martha cried.

"Oh Kate," Jessie whispered brokenly.

"Is she gone?" Martin groaned.

"I love you, Kate," Jessie thought, forcing herself to turn, wanting to see her, not knowing how she would say goodbye.

Martha stood with her hand resting on Kate's cheek, boundless joy on her face. "Her face is cool! The fever has broken. She is only sleeping!"

Jessie bowed her head and wept.

Jessie was seated by the bed, Kate's hand in hers, when Martha returned from speaking with the doctor. Kate slept on peacefully. Jessie brushed her lips over Kate's palm, then laid Kate's hand gently down upon her breast. She rose to face Martha, fearful of the news.

"He said that it will probably be a long convalescence, but there's good reason to hope she will recover fully," Martha said quietly, standing just inside Kate's bedroom door. For some reason, she felt as if she were intruding on something intensely personal every time she looked at Jessie Forbes look at her daughter. There was nothing unseemly about it, only something so intimate it made her uncomfortable. She hadn't imagined even a man and a woman could share such feeling.

"I'll be going now," Jessie said softly. She could barely manage the words. She was worn beyond exhaustion. Empty.

Martha stared from Jessie's tortured eyes to Kate, deep in healing sleep. She said nothing. It was best, at least it would be in time, if this could end now.

"Will you tell her I was here?" Jessie asked, brushing sweat from her face with a trembling hand. "Please?"

"It would be best if I didn't."

The words struck like a blow and Jessie's eyes flickered closed for a moment. She steadied herself with one hand on the edge of the bedside table. When she caught her breath, she met Martha's gaze directly. "Would it? Is hurting her ever for the best?"

Martha looked away, remembering the words Kate had written in the farewell letter. "I love her, more than I will ever love anyone else in my life. I need to be with her, or my life will not be worth living". Surely, surely, Kate could not have meant that. "What would you give to make her happy?" Martha asked suddenly.

"Anything," Jessie answered immediately.

"Then go, leave her. Let Kate alone to live the life she should." The words were spoken pleadingly, with no anger. Martha had seen enough to know that there was no sin between them, only an ill-advised affection. Women were not meant to live for pa.s.sion, or even happiness, but to do their duty. Kate would simply have to accept that!

"Mrs. Beecher," Jessie said steadily, mustering all the strength she had left. "If Kate tells me to go, I swear to you that I will never see her again."

"And if she does not?" Martha asked wearily.

"Then there is nothing and no one who will keep me from her. If you send her away, I will find her. I promised her that I would never stop loving her." She looked one last time at Kate and then slowly walked past Martha toward the stairs. "I meant it."

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

A STEADY RAPPING ON the door awakened Jessie. She looked around the room, trying to figure out where she was and how she got there. She was on a bed, still in her clothes, her hat and gun belt on the chair nearby. Her head ached and her stomach was queasy. She turned toward the window. It looked like it was late in the day, and as she struggled to orient herself, the rapping came again.

"Come in," she croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Come in." She swung her legs over the side of the bed but didn't feel steady enough to stand just yet. Mae came in carrying coffee and toast on a tray and Jessie could have kissed her.

"Lord, that smells good," Jessie groaned.

Mae sat down on the bed next to Jessie and set the tray between them. "Well, you look a mite better than this morning, but not by much. Drink some of that. You need it."

Jessie reached for the steaming cup, vaguely recalling that she had stumbled into the hotel just after dawn. Mae had still been up. She remembered Mae's arm around her waist, helping her up the stairs. And Mae laying her down, and starting to unb.u.t.ton her shirt.

"Thanks," Jessie said at length. "For last night - this morning, I mean."

"How are you, Jess?" Mae asked. It didn't seem to her that the sleep had done Jessie much good. Her eyes were darkly shadowed, her face drawn and etched with pain. She didn't look quite as wild as when Mae had seen her out at the ranch, but she was still far from right. "How's Kate?"

A faint light of happiness flared in Jessie's eyes. "She's better, Mae. The Doc says-" She faltered, her throat suddenly tight, and she looked away. In a minute she continued. "The Doc says she will get well."

Mae put her hand gently on Jessie's arm. "That's fine, Jess," she said, meaning it. "That's fine."

Jessie nodded. "Yes." She stood wearily. "I should get back to the ranch."

"You should lay back down and sleep for two days," Mae said roughly, standing quickly, moving to stop her from reaching for her gun belt. "You're in no shape to ride. You look like a good wind could blow you away. You need rest, or you'll be sick abed too and no good to anyone, least of all Kate."

"Kate?" Jessie asked dumbly. She was having a very hard time making sense of anything anymore. Just a few days ago she had been set to leave behind everything she had ever known so that she might have a life with Kate. Then for long agonizing hours she had believed Kate was about to die, and that nightmare haunted her still. She had no idea what to do next.

"You don't think you're the first person she'll want to see when she wakes up?" Mae said with exasperation. "You're going to need all your wits to handle that family, and she's going to need you to be strong."

"What if they won't let me see her?" Jessie said, her voice low and tortured. Lord, she was tired, and her mind was so muddled.

Mae cursed her own stupidity. Why was she always taking Kate's side in all of this? Why hadn't she just ignored Jessie's protests and finished undressing her this morning? She should have just crawled onto that bed next to her the way she'd been wanting to do for years, and maybe then Jessie would have given up this d.a.m.n fool idea of being with Kate Beecher. Mae looked at Jessie and knew why she had done none of those things. Jessie loved Kate and there was no changing it. She sighed. "Montana, I don't believe there's a man alive who could stop you from doin' something if you set your mind to it. Once you get some sleep, you'll know that too."

Mae put her arm around Jessie's shoulders and directed her back to the bed. Jessie followed without objection, and even let Mae remove her shirt and pants. She smiled faintly when Mae leaned down and kissed her lightly, chastely, on the mouth. By the time Mae gently closed the door, Jessie was asleep again.

Kate opened her eyes and lay quietly in the still room, listening to the sounds of pages quietly turning. She was very weak, but there was no pain. In fact, she felt very calm, serene. After a moment, she moved her head on the pillow and looked at her mother, who sat reading nearby.

"Mother," Kate whispered.

"Oh!" Martha exclaimed, dropping her book in her haste to reach Kate's side. "Oh, Kate. We were so worried!"

Kate smiled faintly. "I'm sorry."

"Hush," Martha chided gently, brushing Kate's hair back from her face. "I'll get your father. He's still asleep."