Chapter Fifteen
“Here you go, Wyler.” Doc set a cup of coffee on the table in the kitchen of the clinic.
Wyler stared at the contents but didn’t take a sip. Liberty was in the next room sleeping after she’d been given something to help her relax after the terrible events.
“I don’t understand. One minute she was fine and the next…” He couldn’t get the words out. When he saw the blood covering her legs he’d gone through a gamut of emotion. “I didn’t get her here in time.”
“Son, I’ve seen this many, many times. The baby had miscarried before there were any signs. Don’t beat yourself up. There was nothing you could have done—nothing that any of us could have done.”
Wyler picked up the cup and took a sip. “If that’s the truth then why do I feel like it’s all my fault?” He couldn’t get the image of the blood out of his mind. How he’d brought Liberty to the clinic, Doc performing an ultrasound, not picking up a heartbeat.
“It’s normal to feel responsible, especially when there are no answers to explain the loss of a pregnancy.”
He drank some more of the coffee, not because he wanted it, but he needed something for his dry throat. “Are you sure…I mean…”
Doc nodded. “I’m sure, Wyler.”
“Will she be okay?”
Doc leaned his elbows on the edge of the table, compassion feeling his seasoned eyes. "She'll recover. Just give her some rest and time to mourn the loss. You can consider trying again in a few months. The body recovers quickly." He was interrupted by his phone vibrating. Pulling it out, he said, "Excuse me, I have to answer this. She’ll wake up soon and probably would prefer to see you first."
Wyler eased the tension from his forehead, feeling the weight of the world settle on his shoulders. He entered where Liberty lay on the table, appearing delicate yet incredibly resilient. Quietly shutting the door, he settled into a corner chair, unable to take his eyes off her. Torn between the desire to embrace her, promising security, and the need to remain composed for her dependence, he struggled with his internal conflict.
She let out a faint groan and then her eyes fluttered open.
He sprang from his seat and hurried to her side. “Liberty?”
Her eyes met his. “I wished it were just a bad dream.” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes puffy.
“How are you?” He yearned to reach out to her, yet he was cautious not to cause any pain.
“Tired. Drained. I want to go home.” She started to sit up and she saw the IV hooked to her arm. “Where is Doc? I want this thing out of me.”
“He’s taking a call.” He’d give anything if he knew the right words to say to her.
She nodded as if that satisfied her need to not flee, only for the moment.
"Liberty...I’m sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, his emotions barely hanging by a thread.
She lowered her eyes and tugged at a loose strand on the blanket.
Wyler couldn’t get past the guilt he felt, and he couldn’t divulge that to her. He had one job and that was to protect her and his child. He’d failed. “Doc says you’re going to be okay. You just need to rest.”
“Wyler, you and I need to—”
"Stay out of there!" Doc cautioned, right by the shut door.
“The hell I ain’t. Try and stop me,” Sam Rose roared and then the door came crashing open. He filled the threshold from frame to frame with his bulky shoulders. His expression belonged on a disgruntled bear.
“Sorry, you two.” Doc shook his head in irritation. “I tried to stop him.”
“It’s okay,” Liberty said.
“If you need anything, holler. Behave yourself, Sam,” Doc said then stepped into the hallway.
“Daddy, what in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
“I got word that you were hurt. Betty Sue told Trinity that she saw you coming into the clinic. What kind of cockamamie thing is it when a father doesn’t get a phone call that his daughter is hurt.” Sam narrowed his gaze on Wyler in accusation. “Son, you got some explaining to do.” Sam had seemed to grow by two inches.
“Sir, I—”
“I’m fine!” Liberty interrupted in exasperation. “I’m not hurt.”
She tried sitting up and Wyler was by her side, helping her. He propped a pillow behind her back.
“What are you doing here then? Wyler, if you did anything I’ll wipe you off the—”
“Daddy! Stop! Wyler didn’t do anything.” Liberty sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“What am I missing?” Sam groaned. He sounded a lot like a bear too.
Liberty adjusted the blanket, probably needing a moment to figure out how she’d tell him. She then looked at Wyler in a silent plea. “Can I have a moment alone with Daddy please?”
A part of Wyler wanted to rebel and tell her that he was staying, but he understood. The situation was a difficult one. Reluctantly, he nodded and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
He didn’t get far. Doc caught him. “Want me to kick Sam out?”
If Wyler had it in him, he would have laughed at the thought of the short, stocky Doc manhandling oversized Sam. “Best to let the two of them sort it out.”
“I swear, he hasn’t changed a bit since his younger years.” Doc tidied up the already neatly stacked magazines on the table. “Good thing I have the patience of a saint.”
“He’s worried about his daughter.”
“But this isn’t a time to be arrogant,” Doc sniffed. “Anyway, how does she seem to be doing?”
“Strong. Held together.” Wyler stared at the closed door.
“Get some rest. I’ll be in my office.” Doc patted his shoulder as he passed.
Wyler continued to stand there, staring. A mix of emotions were at war inside him.
The door to the exam room opened, and Sam, a bit less overbearing then, came out. He had his hat held against his chest. His age was showing in his slumped shoulders and worried gaze. He stopped and planted his large hand on Wyler’s shoulder. “Son, I’m sorry. She’d like to see you.”
He hesitated at the open door to the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head bent. He stepped inside and she didn’t even acknowledge him.
“Daddy said I should come back with him to Sagebrush Rose.” Her voice was so weak he had to strain to hear it.
“What did you say to him?” Wyler shoved his hands into his pockets. Her expression already conveyed to him all he needed to understand.
“It's the right thing to do.” She eventually faced him. Were there tears in her eyes? “Dolly is there, and she can help look after me.”
“I can look after you as well.”
“It’s not about that, Wyler.” She got off the bed and winced as the IV line tugged. “I need a little time.” She looked around the room for something.
“Your clothes are over there.” He referred to the plastic bag next to the chair. “Did you think you should have spoken with me first? We could have discussed it. I am your husband.”
“About that.” She didn’t even look at him as she dug inside the bag.
“Yeah, about that.” He didn’t even worry about monitoring his tone because he was hurting too.
She laid out the shirt and sweatpants she’d worn to the clinic. “I’m doing you a favor, Wyler.”
“A favor?” He chuckled, but it sounded more like a snort. “By letting me off the hook?”
She looked at him sadly. "The pregnancy was holding us together, but it's gone now."
He sighed deeply. "There's more to our relationship."
"The situation is different," she said, clutching her shirt and facing him.
"Just like that, then?"
"It's all difficult," she replied.
“You’re certainly making it seem easy.”
"You must recognize the reality of the situation. I—I…," her voice faded into a heavy quiet.
"What is it, Liberty?" He approached but maintained his distance. "Do you not love me? Do you not want this marriage? Or have you found an exit to finally end us?"
“Wyler…please…”
"Please what? Should I not hold you accountable for your choice? Not let you dismiss me like all the other men in your life. If you believe our connection was solely about the baby," he said with words that hurt to speak, "then it seems we've both viewed this relationship very differently."
She let out a deep, encompassing sigh. "Our marriage wasn’t genuine. Our union was shaped by specific conditions, but now we have to face reality."
"Clarify this reality for me?"
"Let's not have this discussion, Wyler."
"Not even to ensure we’re on the same page?"
"I'm not prepared for this conversation at the moment."
“You should have thought about that before you decided everything for me.” He didn’t want to be angry, but he felt like a rubber band that had lost its elasticity. “But don’t worry, you’ve made yourself clear.”
"I'm not able to handle this at the moment."
"We're both in this together, Liberty. The loss isn't yours alone."
"Do you believe I'm not aware of that?" Wrinkles formed around her eyes.
"Deciding on something so significant shouldn't be rushed. Let's take some time to consider it."
She sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Do you think I haven’t thought this over and over and over? Before the baby I had made my decision.”
“Why?”
Her bottom lip trembled as if she held back tears. “Because everyone I love loses when they get involved with me. This isn’t your fault, Wyler. It’s all mine. I didn’t want this baby…not at first. I was so wrong because I did want the baby. I’m being punished. In time you’ll see that this is my fault, and you’ll hate me.”
He blinked, trying to put her words together. “Stop, Liberty. Don’t dive into that pit of despair. This isn’t your fault. Neither of us were ready for a baby.” He took a step, but she raised a hand, halting him mid-stride.
“I can’t, Wyler. The guilt is too much. Please go.” She buried her face into her palms.
“Liberty, I want to be here for you.”
But when she ignored him, he knew his attempts were useless. So, he did as she requested, not wanting to cause her any more pain.
He paused at the door and turned back to look at her, “I meant what I said earlier, I love you Liberty, I always will.”