Gentry's Gallery of Angels Read online

  “Amanda! I will not tolerate…”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. We’re canning the vegetables from the kitchen garden, and she wants to finish a dress she is making. She’s adamant in what all she wants done in a few days’ time.” How could her mother not see her grandmother was in poor health? Grandmother laid down for a nap before the dishes were washed. Something wasn’t right, and she knew it.

  Grandmother herself had said she wasn’t feeling well. Amanda’s aunts and uncles discarded her words with ‘she’s getting old.’ Her Uncle Sam was the only other one besides her grandfather who showed any concern for Izella’s failing health. She would like to visit with Sam and get his view of what was going on inside the tiny dwindling body of her grandmother.

  Sam was attending the university when the war broke. While he was in the military he honed skills he only mentioned once or twice and then refused to discuss further. After the war, he opened his own office and married Miss Victoria Lyons not long afterwards. Amanda smiled as she reminisced over the way Sam doted on Victoria. One would have thought she was the only other person on earth besides Sam.

  Uncle Sam’s office was two stores down from the mercantile. She could sneak away and visit him without any questions from Izella. When they made the trips, she always visited him and his wife, Victoria. If Grandmother wasn’t well enough to make the trip, she would offer to take the wagon in for supplies.

  Amanda hoped Izella would want to make a trip into Courtview. Nick would be working at his mercantile. She longed to see her soon-to-be husband. He always gave her good advice when she was troubled. Nick was the neutral party she could count on to keep things to himself. Most of the other people her age had either left the area or got married and didn’t pay much attention to the two of them. Nick made her laugh and treated her as if he understood things in her life.

  “I’m on my way to Sanders Cross.” She grabbed another biscuit and rushed for the door, snatching her heavy coat and gloves on the way out. The crisp morning air greeted her on her short jog to the barn. Once inside, she leaned against the stall gate and stuffed the last bite in her mouth. She slipped her arms in the coat and pulled it tight around her neck. Even the sun was having a hard time keeping warm this time of year. Her muscular dun mare nudged her shoulder. Amanda laughed and slipped the bridle on the horse’s head.

  “Give me a second or two and we’ll be on our way, Sandy. Sorry, I didn’t bring you a carrot. I’ll get you a fresh one when we get to Grandmother’s.” She rubbed the mare between the ears. Her saddle perched on a rack close to the wall. With ease, she lifted it to the horses back and cinched it. Reins in her hand, she led the mare from the barn and then mounted.

  Nudging the mare with her knees, they set out in a lope down the trail to her grandparents’ plantation. A few wild turkeys flew to distant trees at the sight of her approach. She marveled at the ugly but delicious tasting creatures. Small rabbits chased each other around and jumped in the air when another scampered near. A giggle escaped her lips. The trail across the backside of the pair of plantations beat traveling the long road.

  She stopped Sandy short of the barn and opened a stall door, then removed the saddle and bridle. It was a short trip to the back door where her grandfather waited with the basket of vegetables he picked from the garden.

  “Morning, Grandfather. Where’s Grandmother? She’s usually the one with the basket. Is she feeling worse?” She gazed into the misty blue eyes of her grandfather and held her breath.

  He shook his bowed head. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “She said she needed to rest a while longer.”

  “Grandfather, what’s going on with her? I know she’s been ill for a while. She didn’t feel well this whole week, and I want to know what’s wrong.”

  Lewis shook his head again and turned to the door. The two of them slipped in. Amanda caught his wrinkled hand and took the basket. “I don’t know, Amanda. I suppose its old age. You know we’re not spring chickens anymore.” His voice trickled from his mouth. There was an eerie sense he knew more than he was letting on.

  The burning sensation in her eyes blurred her vision. She tossed the basket aside and hastened to her grandmother’s room. She inhaled a deep breath before she tapped lightly on the door. Her grandmother’s frail voice called for her to enter.

  The grayish hue of her grandmother’s skin appeared deeper than usual. Her face wrinkled and withered across her sharp features. Her gray eyes sunk into their sockets. Amanda choked back a sob as she slowly approached Izella. Yesterday she was up and working despite her weakness. Bile rose in Amanda’s throat as the nausea twirled in her stomach. She stiffened and took hold of the frail hand resting on the quilt covering the petite body.

  “Grandfather says you’re not feeling well today. What would you like me to do? He brought a basket of vegetables from the garden. I can make you a nice soup and work on the dress if you would like.” The rise and fall of her grandmother’s chest labored as she struggled to catch another breath. The quilt barely rose above the mattress and the sight ate at Amanda.

  “No honey, I would like for you to fetch some supplies for me. Take the wagon. You won’t be able to carry it all on horseback. Now get your paper handy.” Izella rattled off a list for her to pick up. When Amanda protested at items on the list, her grandmother raised her hand a few inches from the bed to still her arguments.

  Through blurry eyes, Amanda hitched the team to the wagon and set the horses into motion. Dust rose from the horse hooves as she slapped the reins against their backs. A horrid scene of returning and her grandmother’s body, lying in the bed, still and lifeless haunted her mind. Her heart clenched in a tight ball as she bounced around on the wooden seat. The quilt covering her legs slunk in a heap at her feet.

  Her dreaded mission ripped her core. She no more wanted to pick up the coffin her grandmother requested than she would have welcomed a stab to the heart, which at this point, it was about the same thing. She had to get to Courtview to speak with Sam and urge him to heal Izella.

  ****

  Nick opened shop early to finish placing the supplies on the shelves. His memories of Amanda’s last visit still fresh in his mind, he walked over to the case where the locket was displayed and pulled it from view. For Christmas and as a wedding gift he would present it to her.

  The way her eyes lit up when she observed things of beauty warmed his insides. Her innocent approach to new and wonderful events electrified every inch of his being. He expelled a long sigh as he reminisced about the effect she held on him.

  He shivered from the early morning air. The fire within the wood burning stove had died down to glowing hot embers. Strolling to the pile of firewood, he chose a couple of logs and carried them back to the heater. Jingles of the bell drew his attention to door and his first customer of the day.

  Cody and the sheriff stepped in. Nick tossed the firewood into the stove’s belly and turned to his visitors. He tried to act in a civilized manner to Cody.

  “Good morning, gentlemen. What can I get for you today?” Indifference in his tone radiated within the room.

  “You can fetch me that pretty little gal of yours.” Cody’s eyes narrowed.

  Nick tried to ignore the implausible request of the disrespectful man. The way he treated Amanda as if she were some trump card in a game of poker irritated him.

  “Sheriff, did you come to pick up your order? I have it ready in the back. Your family is going to be surprised at the presents you got for them. I wrapped them up for you and put a label on each one so you would know what was inside.”

  “You’re a good man, Nick. Thank you. Can you deliver them the day before Christmas Eve? Bring them to the office and I’ll carry them home.” The sheriff lowered his head and scanned the table of items where he was standing.

  “You can wrap that little angel of yours and deliver her to my house the same day.” Cody hooked his thumbs in his gun belt.

  Nick’s blood heated. He balled his fist, but di
dn’t move. “Would you care to step outside?”

  The sheriff sauntered over to Nick. “Now son, he isn’t worth banging up your fist for. I understand his ignorance is one that needs reckoned with. Cody, you keep your mouth shut. If you continue to provoke Nick, I cannot stop his actions.”

  Nick nodded his head to the sheriff.

  “Yes, she might even back out of the arrangement and marry me instead,” the deputy said.

  The sheriff whirled around. His voice sent shivers down Nick’s spine. “One more remark about Miss Gentry and I will let this man give you what you deserve.”

  “When you get done with her Harper, send her my way. I’ll teach her what a real man is like.” Nick couldn’t stand anymore. He leapt forward and punched Cody square in the jaw. Cody stumbled backward, tripped over a crate near a table and landed on his backside looking up at Nick.

  Jumping down on Cody, he thrashed him several more times in the face. Cody lay in the floor, tossing his arms to fend off the punches. The pounding in Nick’s chest was wild and furious. His mind whirled with locked up anger. All sounds muffled to blend into a low roar. The rancid odor of blood mixed with the cedar logs he had thrown on the fire.

  The sheriff rested his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Calm yourself, Nicolas. I know how you feel. I’m glad you weren’t wearing a gun or we would have a mess to clean up. As for you Lansing, give me your badge. Your services are no longer required in my town. I won’t defend you against a whipping you brought on yourself.”

  Nick raised himself from the floor, his fist covered in the blood from his opponent. Adrenaline rushed his veins. He marched to the back room where a washbowl stood and immersed his hands in the refreshing water. When he returned to the front of the store, the sheriff and Lansing were gone. He pulled in a deep breath and set back to work straightening and stocking the shelves, but his anger still burned deep within.

  Chapter Three

  The horses were spotted with white lather and out of breath when she pulled them to a stop in front of her uncle’s office. She set the brake and jumped to the ground. She rushed through the door. Sam towered over Victoria as he spoke softly, giving instructions on how to care for a patient he had operated on. His words stopped as he looked up. She paused for a moment; no longer capable of holding her sobs she threw herself into his arms. Blubbering words only her mind could understand.

  Victoria presented her with a glass of water. Sam clenched her arms and forced her to sit in a nearby chair. “Take a deep breath, Amanda. When you’re ready you can tell me what has you in dire straits.”

  She did as instructed and blew her nose on a handkerchief Victoria handed her. “It’s Grandmother, Sam. She sent me here to pick up a coffin! Her coffin.”

  Sam ducked his head, when he glanced back up at her, his eyes filled with tears. He pulled a stool close to her, took her hands in his and spoke slowly. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but she has malaria, Amanda. She didn’t want a bunch of pampering. With you helping her, I believe you should know. The best we can do is give her quinine, which she already has. There is nothing more to do for her except make her comfortable and keep her fever low.” He lowered his head then glanced back up at her. “Sometimes—sometimes being the doctor is worse than being the patient; you’re always the first to know the bad news. When it comes to family, it gets a little more complicated. At any rate, I will go with you back to Sanders Cross and see how bad she is this time.”

  “What do you mean ‘this time’? Has she done this before?” Amanda stomped her foot and perched her fisted hands on her hips.

  “Yes. It reoccurs from time to time. This time of year is stressful and she works herself too hard. She needs to slow down or she will…”

  “No! You have to do something to stop this.” Her screams echoed in the room.

  “I’ll go fetch the supplies she sent you after. You stay here with Victoria.” He nodded to his wife and vanished out the door.

  Victoria pulled her close and let her cry until her eyes stung and swelled. An hour and a half later, Sam walked back into the office. She barely raised her head, her spirits and energy drained.

  “Are you ready?” He gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

  “I won’t ever be ready, but I suppose we should get going. She’ll never forgive me if I’m late.” Her feet dragged with each step toward the door.

  ****

  Nicolas swiped the broom across the wooden walk in front of the mercantile. The hurried thuds of the horses and screeches of wagon wheels stirred up dust along the dirt street. The Sanders’ familiar wagon slid to a stop in front of the doctor’s office. His heart echoed in his ears, and he rushed to greet the long-haired beauty as she jumped from the seat. The door of her uncle’s office slammed shut before he could toss the broom and get to her.

  He paused. The desperation about Amanda he’d never witnessed before worried him. At church or when she came to the store with her family, they spent time catching up on each other’s lives, as their courtship had grown deeper over the last year. He couldn’t help wondering about Amanda. From the frown on her face and tear stained cheeks, it couldn’t be good.

  Mr. and Mrs. Sanders had made several trips in to see their son in the last month. He had noticed how Mrs. Sanders’ face had narrowed, her pace had slowed, and her posture slumped. A tight knot twisted in his chest. From the look on Amanda’s face, he formed his own opinion that it had to do with her grandmother’s illness. If it did, this wasn’t the time to intervene in family matters. He could wait until she came to him with whatever consumed her.

  He lingered outside on the walk until the cold convinced him to re-enter the store. Then he busied himself stocking shelves with canned goods and bolts of material. The distressed look on the face of his fiancé dulled his senses. Amanda’s eyes had glistened, not from delight but from the tears streaming down her cheeks. He should go to her and hold her until she dispelled her grief.

  His happy-go-lucky woman had turned into an emotional mess. Whatever ate at her was family oriented, and he wasn’t her family yet. In two days time this would change, and she would come to him with important matters. The bell on the door drew his attention from the table full of new trousers he was stacking.

  “Nick, oh Nick.” Amanda ran to him and threw herself into his arms. “What am I to do? I have no one to turn to except you.”

  “Tell me all about it sweetheart. We’ll work this out together.” She stood silent in his embrace a while longer, then pushed back from him.

  “Grandmother is sick and my family wants me to act as if nothing is going on with her.” She stepped into his embrace once more. He closed his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest. The warmth of his breath on the top of her head sent a few stray hairs fluttering across her cheek.

  “The way one’s heart reacts in different situations is not always the way our minds tell it to. You know what your grandmother would want you to do, but you have to disregard what this in here is saying.” He pointed to her chest.

  “I suppose you’re right. But Nick, I don’t think I’m ready to do that. This all came about too fast and I need time which I don’t have. The celebration for the veterans, our wedding, Christmas, and now this is all too much.” She swiped at the tears trickling down her face.

  “Thank you Nick.” She placed a kiss on his cheek and headed for the door.

  Chapter Four

  Victoria waited in Sam’s office for her return. Amanda slumped down in the chair. “I think the world is caving in Victoria. I was so excited about the holidays and my wedding. How could I have been so foolish as to not see Grandmother was pushing too hard. She is exhausted. I can see that now. I worked beside her, letting her press on when I should have made her stop and rest.”

  The tingling of Nick’s secure embrace lingered on her skin. A tad bit of tension lifted from her. She took a deep, pained breath and closed her eyes. Her lips quivered and she covered her mouth with her hand.


  Thoughts of wanting to be happy about her upcoming wedding and sadness at her grandmother’s impending demise stormed her mind. She sat in silence and waited for Sam’s return.

  ****

  “Hello, Sam, what can I do for you today?” Nick offered his hand to the doctor, who took it with a firm grasp.

  “I need this list filled and would you load it in the wagon? I’ll be back in a few minutes to square up with you.” Sam’s head hung low and his brows furrowed. The pungent odor of ether filtered from his cloak.

  “How’s Amanda? She’s all right, isn’t she?” A thunderous explosion erupted in his stomach. Holding his breath, he waited for Sam’s answer.

  “She’s fine, Nick. A little upset over her grandmother, but she’ll bounce back.” Sam’s voice had lost the spark it usually held. His brows furrowed causing more alarm in Nick.

  “Is there anything I can do? Uh, besides fill this order.” He raised the paper and then slapped it against his empty palm. When the family was ready to divulge Izella’s condition, he would be the first to know. Amanda had known he would be there for her since they’d met years ago.

  “You’re the best friend Amanda has. In a few days, you’ll be her husband. More than likely you know her better than the rest of us, and she will rely on you heavily.”

  “She came to see me a little while ago. I haven’t felt this helpless in a long time and I’ll tell you flat out, I don’t know what to tell her.” He fidgeted with the paper in his hand.

  “You’ll figure it out.” Sam strolled out the door leaving the puzzled Nick staring after him. Without wasting a moment, he gathered the items on the list and carried them to the wagon outside. Two men carrying a coffin slipped it into the bed beside the packages he had loaded. Dread of the inevitable filled his soul. His heart sunk to his stomach. Mrs. Sanders. He crossed his hands at his waist and ducked his head as Sam approached.

  “I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t know.” He fought back the heartache decomposing his self-preservation.