there around the clock. They probably couldn’t take care of the old man as good as the women, but they’d do the best they could.
Abner came out of the mercantile as Jake halted his mare at the jail. “Hey, Abner, run and get Doc Valentine. Hurry.”
“Yes, sir.” Abner darted away.
Jake settled Gus on a cot in one of the cells. He groaned and muttered a couple of times but didn’t wake up.
Lord, help Gus. Forgive me for not doing more for him, for not encouraging him to go to church and to learn more about You. I don’t even know if he’s a Christian.
He worked to make the old man comfortable, sending prayers heavenward for his life and his soul. Relief coursed through him when the door opened. “In here, Doc.”
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s Gus.” Jake stepped back. “He’s burning up with fever.”
Doc Valentine pulled up a chair and checked Gus over. He mumbled as he worked.
Jake gritted his teeth. “What’s wrong with him?”
“A touch of pneumonia.” The doctor muttered under his breath, stood, and snapped his black bag shut. He handed Jake a bottle of medicine. Jake leaned in so he didn’t miss any of the garbled instructions. “Keep his fever down. . . . Give him a dose of this three times a day. Hmmm . . . I’ll be back later.”
And with that, Doc Valentine mumbled himself right out of the jail.
Jake spent the rest of the day sponging Gus. His fever would go down, and he’d rest for fifteen minutes or so; then he’d get restless again. Around noon, Gus looked at him, his eyes glazed with fever. “Mr. Jake?”
“I’m here, Gus.”
Gus reached out a feeble hand. “Take care of the kids.”
“The kids? What kids, Gus?”
“Cold.”
“You’re cold? I’ll get another blanket.”
“No.” Gus gripped his hand. A spasm of coughing hit him. When he could speak again, he rasped, “Kids. Cold.”
Jake frowned. “The kids are cold?”
Confusion clouded the old man’s eyes, but he held up a trembling hand, focused on it a moment. “Gloves.”
“I know they need gloves, Gus.” Jake patted Gus’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Gus babbled on, but Jake couldn’t make anything else out. After a while, he lapsed into a fitful sleep. Jake spooned a dose of Doc’s medicine into him and tried to keep his fever down.
Sometime midafternoon, Reverend Warren stopped by. “I just heard. How is he?”
“About the same.”
“Mrs. Warren insists we move Gus to the parsonage.”
Jake raked a hand through his hair. “He’d better stay here. You know he’d be mighty uncomfortable to wake up with Mrs. Warren fussing over him.”
The preacher nodded. “You’re probably right. He’d hightail it out of there so fast, he’d forget his britches. We’ll leave him here for now.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the front room. “The wife sent over a pot of chicken stew. Eat something and get some rest. I’ll watch Gus for a while.”
“Thanks, Reverend.”
Jake wolfed down two bowls of Mrs. Warren’s soup, stumbled out of the jail, and crossed the street. He’d never been so thankful that Baker’s Boardinghouse faced the jail, right next door to McIver’s. He mounted the stairs to his room and closed the door, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
* * *
The six o’clock whistle pierced the evening stillness, echoing through the whole town. The sound galvanized Livy, Emma, and Mary into action. The miners would flood the small café in fifteen minutes. The men would be starving, as usual. Livy rushed around, cutting corn bread and ladling up bowls of beef stew.
Emma took another pone of corn bread out of the oven and dumped it on a platter. “Go ahead and put those bowls on the tables. All we’ve got is stew and corn bread. If they don’t like that, they’ll have to go someplace else.”
There wasn’t anywhere else to go. Miss Nellie only served her boarders. And most of the men who stopped in at Emma’s didn’t have a wife to cook for them. But the miners would be more than satisfied with Emma’s cooking. They wanted something hot and filling, and Emma’s cooking met both requirements.
Livy started pouring coffee the minute the first wave of men hit the door.
And didn’t stop for the next hour.
Over the last few days, the three women had developed a system. As soon as the diners arrived, Livy filled plates and bowls and coffee cups, refilling as needed. Mary washed dishes, and Emma kept cooking more food until she