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wife has hair the color of honey, and her eyes are brown.”

McAdoo tapped his chin. “With her face so swollen and bruised, I can’t be sure. I just settled her for the night.”

“Can I see her?”

“The shot I gave her will keep her asleep for hours.”

“I have to know. I can’t leave until I know for sure. Don’t you see? I have to know if my wife is alive.” Daniel buried his head in his hands. He prayed it was her upstairs.

The doctor rubbed his chin. “I suppose I could let you take a peek, but you can’t stay, and you can’t wake her.”

Daniel threw his head back and relaxed in his chair. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He followed Dr. McAdoo up the stairs and into a room at the end of the long hall. McAdoo held the door open and motioned for Daniel to look inside.

Daniel prayed once again. He stuck his head in the door and sighed with relief. It was Hope. She looked like a sleeping angel despite all that she’d been through.

The doctor closed the door and led Daniel back to the waiting room. “She isn’t out of the woods yet, I’m afraid. She has a serious wound and a few superficial cuts and bruises.”

“She looked peaceful.”

“Yes, I gave her a shot since she was trying to talk too much. She even tried to sit up, but that wound needs time to heal. I took the bullet out and while it didn’t puncture any organs, she has a cracked rib. She’s very lucky.”

“Lucky?” Daniel asked. “How do you mean?”

“Well, the stagecoach driver shot her while he aimed at one bandit. His rifle was a low caliber, and he fired from a good distance. The bullet hit the chest of gold on the horse’s back and ricocheted into your wife’s chest. The damage is minimal, but if infection sets in—well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Any wound is dangerous.”

“Who told you what happened?”

“The male passenger told us everything before he died early this morning. He got hit in the chest, the bullet punctured his lungs. He told me the bandits shot all the passengers before they rode off, but seeing your wife already shot, they didn’t shoot her again. They thought she was dead.”

“Praise the Lord, my wife is alive!”

“You can come back in the morning and if she isn’t burning with fever, I’ll let you in to see her.”

The doctor’s words echoed in his head all the way back to the farm: “If she isn’t burning with fever.”

Daniel vowed to God and himself that he'd tell her he loved her if she survived, and it didn’t matter if she loved him back. It was possible she might fall in love with him if she gave him a chance. She already liked him. That was a good start.

When Daniel arrived at the clinic early the next morning, a handsome, elderly woman greeted him. “Hello, are you here to see the doctor?”

“No, I’m here to see my wife.”

“Oh, the woman upstairs?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. McAdoo is with her now. She’s running a fever, and he can’t leave her. You won’t be able to see her.”

“Infection?”

“He thinks so. He sent for ice, and he’s packing it all around her. If anyone can help her, it’s my husband.”

Daniel felt a twinge in his chest. “Has he done this before? I mean, successfully saved someone with an infection?”

“Yes, quite a few times. You can have a seat or come back later.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what to do. “I’ll come back. I need to visit the church to pray.”

Daniel knelt at the altar and pleaded with God to spare Hope. Was it possible to lose a second woman he loved? He vowed to himself that if Hope didn’t survive, he’d never allow himself to fall in love again.

When he returned to the clinic, the doctor was sitting at his desk, reading a thick book. He nodded at Daniel.

Daniel thought if the doctor wasn’t with Hope it meant she was better. “Is Hope out of danger?” he asked hopefully.

“Is Hope her name?” McAdoo asked. “I now recall seeing her at your place when I visited your father, but I never met her formally.”

“Yes. How is she?”

“My wife is tending to her. I brought her fever down, but it could flare up again.”

“I need to see her,” Daniel said. “Please.”

“I’ll take you up. You can stay with her while my wife takes a much-needed break. Follow me.”

Chapter Seventeen

Daniel sat in a chair by Hope’s bed. He remembered caring for her while she was ill on the wagon train. He’d seen her through that illness, and he’d see her through this. She was a fighter, and he knew she’d fight to live.

Hope’s body quivered. Daniel took the blanket from the foot of her bed and covered her with it. He could still see her shiver. He remembered how he’d warmed them both on the trail, so he removed his boots, lay beside her, put his arm around her, and pulled her close. After a few minutes, she stopped shivering.  Daniel snuggled close and kept her in his arms. It didn’t matter if the doctor or his wife came in—he was her husband, and he prayed with all his heart she would stay his wife.

He brought his hand to her forehead. It was warm but not burning, which was a good sign. He nuzzled close to her ear, and whispered, “I love you, Hope.” He fell asleep soon after.

Daniel awoke to a light touch on his cheek. He opened his eyes to see big brown eyes looking at him.

“Good morning,” he said.

Hope smiled and continued stroking his cheek. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but

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