Chapter 14
The thing about head wounds was that it was impossible to say with any certainty if the person would be all right or not until they woke up.
Julie knew this, and although she could see that the bullet that had been intended to drive its way through Andrew’s skull had merely grazed the side of his head instead, it had still knocked him unconscious.
All she could do was leave him there, lying in his bed, with his head bandaged up and a flow of concerned people popping by to see how he was.
Julie was beside herself. There were so many things that could be happening inside his skull, and she had no way of doing anything about it.
She wished over and over that she could peer beneath his bones and know if his brain had been hurt.
What if it had? She had heard stories of folks hit in the head who had died months later.
Or what about those folks who had been left paralyzed or diminished mentally?
There were accounts of that happening too.
She had studied them in her medical textbooks.
Would that be Andrew’s fate? She would have to take him to New York or Boston if that was the case. He would need special care.
She didn’t want to think about that. However, as the days rolled on and Andrew showed no signs of waking, Julie began to harden her nerves and prepare herself for the terrible truth that her kind, strong husband was going to be a different man if he survived at all.
If the miners hadn’t insisted on helping Julie tend to Timothy’s people and forced her to eat and sleep a little bit, Julie herself might have become very ill.
As it was, she tossed and turned in the few stolen hours of sleep she managed to get.
When she did finally fall sound asleep one night, all the while holding Andrew’s hand, it was because Troy put something in her tea, but Julie was too groggy to put two and two together and scold him.
She woke, bleary-eyed, after her first real sleep-in days, and couldn’t believe her eyes as she saw her husband lying on his side, his own eyes open, staring at her.
“Andrew?”
“Hi.” He blinked sleepily.
Julie choked back her tears and sat up hurriedly. She whispered a prayer of thanks and took his face in her hands, kissing him gently. “Thank God you’re all right. I was so worried!”
And then, to her utter embarrassment, she burst into tears. Her husband, weary though he was, held her hand and stroked her hair until Julie managed to pull herself together enough to get them each a drink of water.
After a few sips, Andrew’s eyebrows knit together in a frown as he looked around. “How did I get home? What happened? Are you okay? Julie, I?—”
“Okay, take it easy,” Julie said, laying a hand on his shoulder. It was her turn to be the levelheaded one now. “You were shot by a bandit, Andrew. Well, I mean, the bullet grazed your skull. So you might still be a little concussed.”
“Shot?” He reached up and felt the bandage. “Is—is everybody else okay?”
Leave it to Andrew to worry about everyone else.
She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yes, everyone else is fine.” Julie took another sip of water, her voice trembling.
“It happened when we were trying to get away. Andrew, it’s my fault.
You wanted to leave and I … I’m the reason you could have been killed. I’m so sorry!”
Tears streamed down her face again, and Andrew reached for her hand once more, folding his fingers around hers. “Hush now,” he said gently, his voice regaining a little of its usual strength. “You did the right thing. It wouldn’t have been Christian to abandon those poor people. How are they now?”
She pulled herself together and cleared her throat. “The men made me a hospital for them,” she explained. “It’s not much, but it’s better than what they had, and they’re finally starting to show improvement. It’s amazing what clean water and food can do.”
Andrew nodded and winced. “How long do you think this headache will last?”
“Now that you’re awake, I can give you some willow bark for it,” she said. “It should ease the pain.”
She helped him sit up long enough to drink a tincture and then eased him back down, her hand still firmly wrapped in his.
“I was so worried,” she repeated as Andrew’s eyes blinked sleepily.
“Andrew … I wouldn’t know what to do without you.
I know God would help me survive, but I wouldn’t want to if you were gone. I’ve … I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Her husband smiled dreamily. “Love you too,” he mumbled, and then a soft snore drifted from him as his eyes shut fully once more.
Julie stretched out on the cot beside his, refusing to let his hand go. When she went back to sleep too, it was without the need for any sleeping herb. Andrew was alive and would soon be well again. The world was right once more.
Several days of bad headaches kept Andrew bedbound until, on the fourth day, the pain finally eased, and she allowed him a short walk. He wanted to go and see everyone. So, letting him hold onto her arm, she took him to the campfire.
Everyone was thrilled to see him, and Andrew talked and joked with them. Julie’s heart was bursting with happiness and relief. He was just as he had been before the head injury. What a miracle! She allowed herself a moment’s peace, sitting beside Andrew and having a cup of tea.
“Do we know if those were all the bandits?” Andrew asked.
Douglas, who was looking much stronger, shook his head. His long, graying hair flopped around him, but at least it was clean now. “They would come in packs of six or seven, but they wouldn’t always be the same men.”
“Douglas was quick to tell us that,” Robert said, looking grim. “We built the guard tower straight away. Now we’re taking turns. I know we don’t have much in terms of firepower, but I think with enough warning we can still give them a taste of some pretty bitter medicine.”
“Do you think they will come here?” Julie asked. “It’s been days.”
Robert fixed her with his frank stare. “I think that men like those tend to take offense. You shoot one of theirs and they shoot two of yours. That kind of thing. If they start losing men too quickly, then they will think twice, but we would need a lot more guns.”
“Maybe it won’t come to that,” Andrew said. “Maybe they’ll move on and never find us.”
“Yeah, we can hope,” Robert said, although his tone sounded as though he thought hope was for fools. “I say we do what we can to be ready. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
Andrew turned to Julie. “You were there when we faced these men. What do you think?”
She held his gaze, thinking of how terrified she’d been and how she never wanted anyone to go through that ever again. “I think that being prepared is the best thing we can do.”
Smiling, Andrew nodded and put his arm around her shoulders. “I agree. It’s about time we took this seriously. I think we’d better start building stronger homes.”
The others nodded their agreement.
“We’ll show these bullies that we don’t scare so easily,” Andrew said. “If they come here, we’ll send them packing. That’s a promise.”
Everyone cheered. Especially Julie, who rested her head against her husband’s shoulder and thanked God again for keeping her husband safe and giving them a chance at a bright future together.