Free Within My Heart by Tamera Alexander Page B

I . . . I don’t want you out on a night like this.”
    Even if Lyda hadn’t squeezed her hand, Rachel would have caught her meaning, and her thoughts turned again to Ben and Lyda’s children. As hard as losing Thomas had been, she could not fathom the pain of losing her children.
    “Mama?” Mitchell paused by the footboard, his expression both expectant and cautious. “Dr. Brookston said he’d give me a ride home later, if it’s all right with you. That way, I could stay and keep checking Uncle Ben’s heart to make sure he’s okay.”
    Rachel’s throat corded tighter, same as her nerves. She forced herself to look at Dr. Brookston. “That’s most kind of you, Doctor. But, Mitchell”—she returned her focus to her son—“I need you to come with me now. Lady has gotten out of the barn, and I could use your help at home.”
    Mitch’s head cocked to one side. “But how did she get . . .” His expression darkened. “It’s Kurt’s fault, isn’t it? I told him not to—”
    Rachel held up a hand. “Now’s not the time. Please go downstairs with your brother and wait out back for me in the wagon. I’m following right behind you.”
    “Yes, ma’am. . . .” The firm set of Mitch’s mouth told her he wasn’t happy, but as usual, he did as she bade.
    Rachel sidestepped Rand Brookston and leaned down to place a kiss on Ben’s stubbled cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you both. Maybe I’ll bring some of that potato soup you like.”
    Ben sighed, looking overtired. “We’ll look forward to your visit, but don’t you go to any trouble.”
    “Go to trouble . . . over you?” Rachel shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
    Ben covered her hand on his shoulder, and Rachel felt a fresh swell of emotion. She knew enough to know that his condition was serious. What she didn’t know was how long he had left. Don’t take him, Lord. Not yet. Please . . . for Lyda and the boys. And for herself too, but it felt less selfish to ask on behalf of others.
    “Mrs. Boyd?”
    Hearing Rand Brookston’s voice, Rachel straightened and smoothed a hand over her skirt, wondering if her smile looked as brittle as it felt. “Yes, Dr. Brookston?”
    “If you have a moment, ma’am, I’d like to speak with you.” He motioned toward the hallway.
    Eager as she was to get home, she preceded him into the empty hallway. Perhaps he wanted to speak with her about Ben. If that were the case, she wanted to hear what he had to say—and she had a question or two for him as well.
    She was surprised when he pulled the door almost closed behind them.
    He shifted his weight, suddenly developing an interest in the wooden planks beneath his boots. “Mrs. Boyd, I . . .” He seemed at a loss to know what to do with his hands—odd for one so skilled with the scalpel. “I want to offer an apology for my earlier behavior. The situation with Mr. Mullins was extremely tense, and I . . .” He shook his head. “I took my frustration out on you. I’m sorry. I was out of line. Your assistance in getting the medicine here was nothing short of exemplary. I . . . hope you’ll forgive me.”
    Rachel stared. An apology? She hadn’t expected this. The way he stammered and wouldn’t look her in the eye—it was almost enough to convince her that she truly had misjudged him. What she found equally unexpected was how much she wanted that to be true. “I’m grateful for your apology, Dr. Brookston. And . . . kindly accept it.” I think. . . .
    “Thank you.” He exhaled, and a shy smile tipped one side of his mouth. “It wouldn’t do to have the sheriff ’s sister upset at me, now, would it?”
    With great effort, Rachel maintained her poise, the tinge of disappointment bitter at the discovery. So that was it. Rand Brookston didn’t want to be on her brother’s bad side. She should have known. She turned to go, then paused, seizing the opportunity. “Dr. Brookston, would you answer one question for me, please?”
    His