Page 25 of Westbound Awakening

After dinner, Mae went to see her father to find him fast asleep. She stood over him for a few moments and watched his chest rise and fall, his breathing labored. Sadness filled her at the realization she'd never get to know him. At least the hatred and anger she expected didn't fill her. Holding the ledgers in her lap, Mae sat in a chair to continue watch over him. When he woke, they would discuss the accounts. Although they were well kept and organized, she doubted it would take very long for him to be satisfied she had the gist of what needed to be done to keep them straight.

The thud of one of the ledgers slipping off her lap and hitting the floor woke her. Her father continued on deep in slumber, and Mae rose to go and do the same. When she bent to collect the book off the floor, she noticed the corner of a picture frame which had been tucked or fallen under the nightstand. She picked it up and was astonished. It was picture of her mother and herself at about five or six.

The last time he'd visited perhaps? What a tragic story it turned out for all those involved. Her father succumbed to the pressures of a well to do family, and her mother was ostracized for becoming pregnant out of wedlock. Thankfully, her family from Northern Virginia gave her the house in Widow's Peak. Then they'd promptly all but disowned her. Although her father married, neither got their happily-ever-after.

14

Two days after Carla had left Wesley in his care, the ever-present fever became worse, and John lost hope he'd be able to care for the child. Death was now something he feared. The last thing he wanted for his son was to be abandoned and alone in a strange town with no one to care for him.

John shook so hard his teeth chattered, yet he managed to guide the horse down the winding road on Hawkins lands to the main house. Lord, don't let her be gone, not yet. He repeated the prayer he'd been chanting in his mind over and over again. Mae had told him she didn't plan to stay long, yet he hoped she'd decided to remain for while longer. Surely she'd not left so soon, needing time to recover from the travel here.

Wesley sat next to him, silent, holding his precious bundle. His eyes shifted up to John's face every few minutes as if to assure he'd not passed out. He had wondered about it himself several times during the six hours it took to get there. Although the boy was no more than three, he had a mature calmness about him. John took strength from it, and it steadied him.

The large ranch house finally came into view, and John breathed a sigh of relief. "See the house Wes? We're going there."

"House," Wesley repeated his eyes wide. "Big."

"Yes, it's very big," John replied and repeated the prayer. Mae had to be there. Otherwise, his options were to find a place to live with Wesley and somehow hire someone to help care for him while he recovered, if it was even meant to happen. He wasn't sure he could do it, not with the way the raging fevers and pain continued to assault.

The door opened and the short Hispanic woman he'd met last time came outside just as he pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the large ranch home. Her eyes went from him to Wesley and back. "I remember you.You are Senorita Mae's friend. Come inside." She rounded the cart to Wesley's side and held her hands up to the boy. "Well hello boy, come here let me help you down." John watched as his son held his arms out seeming to accept the woman as a friend.

The woman met his gaze over the child's head, concern evident at seeing the sheen of perspiration on his face. "Come inside Senor, I have some fresh lemonade."

John's mouth watered at the thought and he climbed down not able to suppress the groan at the piercing pain. With each step, he wanted to crumble to the floor. "Thank you Ma'am. Is Mae here?"

The woman nodded, and relief flooded him so hard his legs almost buckled. "Si, she is here. My name is Elma," she told Wesley who regarded her with interest. "Come. Inside. Once I serve you a cold drink, I will let senorita Mae know you are here." The woman made her way inside with Wesley in her arms as John followed barely able to keep his balance.

The boy watched him over Elma's shoulder, and without blinking he tracked John's movements. A pang of guilt built in John’s chest at how unsteady his son's life was. John did not look away; his son needed reassurance from him right now.

Once he’d limped through the entryway into the house, John placed a small bag with a change of clothes just inside the doorway in the dimly lit hallway and forced himself to keep up with the woman and his son as they made their way to where he assumed was the kitchen. Pulses throbbed up his leg with each step until his breathing became so labored he had to stop and lean against the wall.

Elma materialized and grabbed his arm, urging him forward. "Senor, you are not well at all. Doctor Kennedy will be here later to see Senor Hawkins, and I will ask him to see you."

"Good, yeah...I planned to see the doctor in a day or two. Just need to rest a bit."

The woman did not reply, and by the set of her lips pressed together into a tight line, John knew she didn't agree. He was already going to ask too much of them, so the last thing he needed to burden them with was his illness.

The sound of voices traveled down the hallway, Elma and a muffled masculine voice. From the tone of the conversation, it was someone the woman knew. If it were someone from town, then hopefully they'd leave right away and were there only to see Elma. She was not in the mood for visitors. Most of the night her father had moaned in pain, and she'd remained by his bedside dolling out regular quantities of medication. Exhaustion did not begin to cover how she felt at the moment. Even the thought of going to the kitchen to get some tea before lying down for a few minutes would be a hardship for her at this point.

Mae arranged the blankets across her father's chest. He'd barely spoken today, his eyes continuingly closing and his breathing became more and more labored as time progressed. She'd been hesitant to wake Elma up and send someone to fetch the doctor. Thankfully when the woman finally came to check on him the next morning, he seemed better. Doctor Kennedy was due to come any minute, so they'd wait. She looked to the doorway; maybe the male who'd arrived was the doctor, as it was possible he decided to arrive earlier.

Mae leaned closer to the slumbering man, and placed her hand on his forehead. He felt cool to the touch, no fever.

A tremor shook him and his eyes opened. "You are still here." The weak statement scared more than reassured her. "Don't worry 'bout me. I'm going to die a happy man knowing you are where you deserve to be." His eyes closed again. A soft moan followed by tremors began again. She pulled on his chin to open his mouth and dispensed two drops of medication.

Minutes passed, and the moaning continued. This was troublesome. Mae scrambled from the room. "Elma! Come at once." She rushed down the hallway to the kitchen. He couldn't die. Not yet. Suddenly, she was not ready to let him go.

"Senorita, what is it?" Elma stopped her just as she got to the kitchen doorway. "Is the Senor in a bad way?"

"Y -- yes…" Mae stuttered only to stop speaking at seeing a pale John sitting at the kitchen table. He had a glass of lemonade in front of him, his hand wrapped around it.

When he went to stand, Elma went back to where he was and pushed him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder. "You should remain seated Senor McClain."

"What's wrong John?" Mae went to him brushing hair away from her face with the back of her hand distracted by the new matter at hand. "Are you sick?"

Despite his sallow skin and dark circled eyes coupled with the sheen of sweat on his face John's voice was strong. "I've had better days. I need to speak to you." His gaze swept to the boy and warmed. "My son needs a place to stay while I recover."

"Of course," Mae replied, distracted by the thumping of her heart at John's presence. She looked back to Elma. "Please send someone to fetch Doctor Kennedy; my father needs him now." She turned an accessing eye to John. "And he can see John while he's here too." Elma rushed to the back door and exited.