Leather and Lace - By DiAnn Mills Page 0,84

you wrote me. The only alternative is to use medication to numb its effects. I talked with Sarah for quite some time about this, and she prefers to refrain from taking anything until the pain becomes unbearable. She doesn’t want to spend her remaining days asleep.”

The reverend nodded, and his hands trembled. “How long do you think she has?”

“It’s difficult to say, two to three months at the most. Your wife is a fighter, and she will hold on to every drop of life for as long as she can. I am sorry, sir. It would have been much easier to give you good news. I’d like to leave laudanum for those times when she desperately needs relief. After all, peace is what we all want for her.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” The reverend’s drawn features tugged at Casey’s heart.

“I think you and the young lady are already doing everything possible. Sarah loves you both, and the decision concerning the medication took much deliberation. She understands the extreme tension existing here in the home and feels guilty for causing it. I admire her courage and faith, as I believe you do.” The doctor shifted his bag to the other hand, then stood.

The two men shook hands, and the reverend thanked him for coming. Casey excused herself, knowing the fee and payment needed to be addressed. The grandfather clock chimed its harsh reminder of time slipping away.

She mounted the stairs to Sarah’s room and knocked lightly. When no response came, she slipped her fingers around the door and gently pushed it open. Sarah lay sleeping, her face calm with no trace of pain.

Poor thing, the examination must have hurt her terribly. Casey folded the quilt around Sarah’s neck and bent to kiss the pale, wrinkled forehead. My life has been a long, strange road. I never imagined nursing outlaws would lead me to nursing a godly woman like Sarah. She pulled a rocker close to the bed and remembered doing the same for Morgan when he nearly died in Vernal.

Her mind wandered to what Morgan was attempting to do for her. Clearing her name . . . a pardon from the state of Texas . . . freedom. At times it all sounded like a dream. He worked night and day on her case. He never complained. He never demanded anything in return. His bad temperament vanished the same day he told her about Jenkins killing his wife. But she waited as though he might explode at their next meeting. The old fears about violent men had taken root and seemed to overshadow her every moment with him. It wasn’t fair to Morgan, but they were there nevertheless. If only she could trust him. Why couldn’t she accept the changed man and stop holding back her love?

Shaking her head to rid her mind of the past, she concentrated on her prayers for the reverend and Sarah.

I will never forget all the wonderful things the reverend and Sarah have done for me. Casey leaned back in the rocker and massaged her arms. Oh, how I want to see Sarah and the reverend to the end before anything else happens.

*****

Morgan wrote until his wrist throbbed and his arm felt like tiny splinters had embedded in his skin. For days he’d muddled through law books and made notes of the items pertinent to Casey’s case. He’d posted correspondence back east to renowned attorneys who had tried similar cases and cleared their clients’ names. A letter went out to Doc and explained what was going on. Another letter was sent to Hank and Maude Stevens in Deer Creek.

Casey. Her defense, her acquittal, haunted him night and day. He believed in her innocence with all his being, yet something was still missing in her defense.

He went to sleep deliberating the case and woke as though he’d been up all night. His nightmares about Kathleen now bore the image of Casey. And for that reason, he could not sit idle for fear this might be the day Jenkins rode into town.

The outlaw had caught up with her before. He could find her again. And what of Tim? When Morgan’s thoughts and worries overwhelmed him, he dug into the work, and when he could do no more, he rode out to the ranch and helped Grant. Seemed like he and God were having a constant conversation.

One evening, Casey and Morgan spoke quietly in the parsonage’s parlor while Sarah slept and the reverend read in his study.

“You’re

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