Comanche Magic by Catherine Anderson

  I'm not making the worst mistake of my life."

  * * *

  Without Chase to fill up her hours, Franny found time to do all the things she'd been neglecting these last weeks. One afternoon, after finishing a shirt for little Hunter and a summer dress for Amelia Rose, she went to visit Indigo. The four of them escaped the July swel­ter by going down to the creek. Indigo took a picnic basket along. Franny took one look at the venison sand­wiches Indigo drew out and felt as if she might be sick.

  "None for me, thanks."

  Indigo flashed her a concerned glance. "What's wrong? You always loved my venison sandwiches."

  Franny touched a hand to her rolling middle. "Nerves, I think. My stomach's been going end over end a lot lately."

  Indigo's eyes widened. After a moment of stunned silence, she said, "You aren't—I mean, you couldn't be—you aren't in the family way, are you?"

  Franny laughed. "No, of course I'm not. I had my complaint right on schedu—" She broke off, trying to recall her last menstrual cycle. Because she hadn't been working recently, she hadn't been watching the calen­dar as carefully as she usually did. "I'm sure I'm not late, Indigo. I always get my complaint like clockwork. I just forgot to watch for the date this month. With Chase monopolizing so much of my time, I haven't been keeping up with much of anything. Matthew has a birthday the last of August, and I'm supposed to make him a shirt and trousers. I haven't even picked out the yardage yet."

  The troubled frown vanished from Indigo's fore­head, and her lovely blue eyes filled with curiosity. "How's it going with Chase, by the way?"

  Hunter, who was playing in the creek, sent up a splash. Franny giggled and wiped a droplet of water from her cheek. Feeling embarrassed, she watched the children for a moment. Amelia Rose was tottering bare­foot along the bank, collecting curiosities, most of which she tasted before tossing them down. "Things are going fairly well, I guess. That's why I'm so ner­vous." She slanted a look at her friend. "How would you feel if I became your sister-in-law?"

  Indigo whooped with joy. Venison sandwiches went in every direction as she sprang to her knees to hug Franny. "How would I feel? Oh, Franny, I'd be over the moon! You mean he asked you? He asked you to marry him? Oooh! I'll kill him when I get my hands on him. He came over for coffee this morning and never said a word."

  Still feeling a little nauseated, Franny extricated her­self from Indigo's enthusiastic embrace. "That's because I haven't given him an answer yet. But I'm thinking about it." She met her friend's gaze. "I have to admit, I'm a little frightened. It's a big step to take."

  "Yes, it is," Indigo admitted. "But, oh, Franny. What a joy it could be. Chase is a good fellow, truly he is. He'd be a kindly husband, I'm sure. And he'd never, ever, not in a million years, ask a woman to marry him unless he loved her. I'm stunned that someone's finally snagged him. I should have guessed. He's had a bee in his bonnet since the first time he clapped eyes on you, and that's a fact. Oh, I can't wait to tell Jake. Will he ever laugh. Chase used to swear up and down he'd never get married."

  "I haven't said yes yet," Franny reminded her.

  "But you surely will. You love him, don't you?"

  Franny's stomach turned another slow revolution, which convinced her more than ever that nerves were responsible for her queasiness. "Actually, Indigo, I'm not sure. I like him a lot. And he's very attractive."

  Indigo leaned forward, avidly curious. "How does he make you feel?"

  Franny considered the question. "Do you promise not to get mad? He is your brother."

  "Of course I won't get mad."

  "Well. . ." Franny nibbled her bottom lip. "The truth is, Indigo, he makes me feel kind of like I swallowed a bucketful of garter snakes."

  Indigo threw back her tawny head, shrieked with laughter, and fell prostate on her back, completely obliv­ious to the sandwiches scattered around her. Franny couldn't see what was so funny and only stared at her. "It's love!" her friend finally managed to say between gasps for breath. "I felt exactly that way with Jake, only I thought it felt kind of like a bunch of minnows swim­ming around in my belly."

  "That's close enough."

  Indigo burst into giggles again. "It passes. And it's ever so nice when it does."

  "I hope so. It's not a very pleasant feeling." Franny touched her waist again. "I feel a little squiggly just thinking about him."

  "The only cure is marriage." Indigo sighed and sat up. She smiled as if she knew a wonderful secret. "Oh, Fran­ny, you'll be so happy. I just know it. I'm so pleased for both of you. My two favorite people, and you've fallen in love. It's a dream come true. My best friend will be my

  sister, just think! For the rest of our lives, our families will gather together for holidays and special occasions. Your kids, and our kids. Won't it be wonderful?"

  It not only sounded wonderful, it sounded incredi­ble. But for once, Franny dared to dream. Of children and Christmas trees. Of tables laden with food. Of love and laughter. Of belonging. Tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Indigo, do you really think it could happen for me? I'm afraid to believe it might for fear it won't."

  "Of course it can happen! Why not? just tell Chase yes, you silly. That's all there is to it."

  That's all there is to it.

  Franny hugged those words close as she walked back to the saloon. She tried to imagine what it would be like to walk along a boardwalk like this and look into the shop windows without wearing her broad-brimmed bonnet. To greet the other ladies and have them nod politely. To feel a part of a community. Mrs. Chase Wolf. Franny Wolf. Francine Wolf. It had a wonderful ring to it.

  As she ascended the stairs to her room, the greasy smells from the kitchen made Franny feel a little queasy again. Once closeted in her quarters, she stepped over to her calendar where it hung on the wall. She had already turned to the month of July, and she quickly scanned the squares for the little X she always drew to mark the beginning of her cycle. How odd. There was no X. Had she forgotten to count forward from her last cycle to pinpoint her due date?

  She supposed that had to be it. She smiled slightly at the oversight. With Chase hounding her, day in and day out, it was a miracle she hadn't forgotten her head someplace. Intending to rectify matters, Franny flipped back to June to find the days of her last complaint, which she always marked with a line drawn horizontal­ly through the squares. Her heart felt as if it dropped to her knees. There was no line to mark the days of her complaint last month.

  There was only a lone X to mark her due date.

  Franny stared at it. An X with no lines. June 24th. She should have had her complaint then, and here it was past the middle of July. She was over three weeks late.

  Shaking, Franny went to sit on the edge of the bed. She had never been late. Not ever.

  The next afternoon, Franny went a few doors up Main to see Dr. Yost. Convinced he would provide a perfect­ly reasonable explanation for her nausea and skipped period, she was stunned when he looked so gloomy after examining her. Franny sat up on the edge of the table and rearranged her dress. She was so distressed at his expression that she scarcely thought about his seeing her face. Usually, when she needed medical care, she saw the doctor in Grants Pass.

  "What is it? A flu of some kind?" she asked hopefully.

  "You're May Belle's girl, aren't you?"

  Franny felt heat wash up her neck. May Belle's girl. It sounded so ugly. "Um, yes. I work at the saloon."

  He nodded and scratched alongside his nose. "Well, missy, I wish it was a flu ailing you. I know news like this isn't exactly welcomed by a sporting woman."

  Franny closed her eyes. It couldn't be. Not now. Not after nine years of never getting caught. In three more days, she intended to tell Chase she would marry him. In three more days, this life would be behind her. She was about to get her miracle. Didn't God understand that? Her one and only chance at a miracle.

  "It's hard to say for sure this early along, but my guess is you're well over two months gone. Definitely pregnant, ju
dging from the feel of things."

  Franny shook her head. "Are you sure you're not mistaken? I'm only about three weeks late. It being so early and all, couldn't you be wrong?"

  His kindly gray eyes rested sadly on her face. "Honey, I wish I was. But in forty years, I've never missed yet. You're pregnant. The only question is exactly how far along you are." He regarded her with a thoughtful frown. "Only three weeks late, you say? And what was your last showing like? Normal? Or light and spotty?"

  With a sinking feeling of resignation, Franny thought back. "Light and spotty,"

  He nodded. "Yes, I figured as much. That happens sometimes. Why, I've had women go as high as five months not realizing they were in the family way, and all because they had some spotting and a light show each month."

  "I see."

  The doctor said nothing in response to that. After a long while, he cleared his throat. "If you're thinking about asking me to help you out of this fix, I can't. And I won't recommend anybody who can. I don't care who

  tells you differently, it's dangerous. I won't be a part of it."

  Feeling numb, Franny slid off the table and tugged on her bonnet. The doctor kept talking, but the words swam around her in a confusing jumble. She felt as though she were moving through a haze of cotton. Out the office door. Onto the boardwalk. Instinctively she turned toward the saloon. One foot in front of the other. She scarcely saw, scarcely heard, scarcely felt. Pregnant. She was pregnant.

  When she reached her room, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the floor. Pregnant. Chase would never marry her now. Taking a whore to wife, that was one thing. Wedding a woman pregnant with another man's child was quite another.

  Franny didn't know what she was going to do. She couldn't continue in her profession pregnant. The flow of money she'd been receiving from Chase would stop the instant she told him. What of her family? What would happen to her mother and Jason now? Frankie and Alaina might find employment in Grants Pass, but neither could earn enough to keep their little brother in elixir and their family fed. The costs were exorbitant.

  For just an instant, Franny considered not telling Chase. She could marry him and pretend the baby was his. Couldn't she? She was in the early stages of pregnan­cy. Only two months. When the child was born, she could make out as if it had come early. He'd never know. All she had to do was live a lie for the rest of her life.

  A lie. Franny closed her eyes, knowing even as she toyed with the idea that she could never do that. Espe­cially not to Chase. It was a despicable thing to even think about doing. But, if not that, then what?

  Another possibility slid icily into her mind. Her gaze shifted to her clothing rod and the wire hangers there. Over the years, she had heard talk. She knew how some sporting women took care of problems such as this. The thought made her want to weep. All her life, for as long as she could remember, she'd wished for a baby of her very own. Now she was thinking about get­ting shut of it. Turning her gaze to the wall, Franny stared at the intricate pattern of daisies. A heavy, relaxed feeling entered her limbs.

  She didn't have to close her eyes or be surrounded by darkness this time to find her meadow. Sunshine and daisies. A sweet breeze blowing. In a twinkling, she was there, all the problems and heartache far behind her. Her papa was sitting on a blanket with Ma, and the two of them were taking food from a picnic basket. Jason was toddling near them, his blue eyes dancing.

  "Franny?" a voice called.

  Breaking into a run, she went toward her parents. Papa looked up, his green eyes and red hair glinting in the sunshine. "Franny? Honey, what's wrong?"

  Confused, Franny missed a step and turned in her dream world to see who was speaking. Not her papa. It was a woman's voice. May Belle? Ah, yes, May Belle. She smiled slightly, wondering how May Belle had found the meadow.

  "Franny, stop this. You're frightening me. Come on, love."

  Franny heard someone snapping their fingers. Then there was a stinging sensation on her cheek. She blinked and frowned.

  "Dammit, Franny. Don't do this. Hey, girl. Wherever it is you've gone, you get right back here. Franny?"

  May Belle. Franny could hear her clearly, but she couldn't see her. And she didn't want to. There was nothing bad here in the meadow. She could stay here if she wanted. The world where May Belle called from would move away, and this one could become her real­ity. She walked closer to her parents, and May Belle's voice grew more distant. Franny tensed to break into a run, but the frightened note she heard in May Belle's entreaties made her hesitate.

  She looked over her shoulder. Saw May Belle's anx­ious face. "No," she whispered. "Let me go, May Belle. Please let me go."

  May Belle reached through and cupped Franny's face in her trembling hands. "Oh, honey, you scared the sand right out of me. Are you all right?"

  At the touch, Franny's meadow shattered like a crystal bubble. She blinked and gazed at the room in confu­sion. Never before had she slipped away so easily, nor had it ever been so difficult to make herself come back.

  Pain filled Franny as she recalled her reasons for escaping to the meadow in the first place. She closed her eyes, wishing with all her heart that she could have stayed there. She was so tired. So horribly weary of it all. In this world, all there was for her was pain, and more pain. Every time something good almost hap­pened, God prevented it. Like marrying Chase. There'd be no cottage and a picket fence for her. She was preg­nant. Not even Chase Wolf could overlook that.

  "Oh, May Belle," she whispered raggedly. "It's hap­pening again."

  "What is, honey?"

  "God won't let me have anything or anyone to love. I'm bad, and He doesn't want me to be happy. Not even a little bit. That's my punishment. Don't you see? Every time I love something, he takes it away."

  May Belle crouched before her and took her hands. "Oh, now. If that isn't the silliest thing I ever heard, I don't know what is."

  "No, it's not silly. I loved my cat, Toodles. Remember? And he died."

  May Belle winced at the reminder. "Oh, honey, that wasn't God. That was two mean-hearted drunks being cruel." She rubbed Franny's hands. "Lord, you're like ice, girl. What put you in this state?"

  Franny had difficulty saying the words. "I'm pregnant."

  The older woman blanched. Releasing Franny's hands, she pushed to her feet and paced in agitation. "Are you sure?"

  Franny gulped down a sob. "Yes, I'm sure. I just vis­ited Dr. Yost, and he says I'm pregnant."

  "Oh, dear God."

  May Belle's appalled reaction cemented in Franny's mind the seriousness of the situation. "What on earth am I going to do, May Belle?"

  No reply. For what seemed forever, May Belle just stood there. Then she heaved a weary sigh and came to sit on the edge of the bed. "If you don't have the most miserable luck, Franny, I don't know who does. How can this happen now? Right when everything was look­ing up for you?"

  Franny fought off another urge to weep. "He won't want me now."

  May Belle didn't ask who. It was obvious to whom Franny referred. "Not unless he's a saint," she finally admitted. "And those are in short supply in this old world, I'm afraid. Ah, sweetie, what a pickle."

  May Belle's plump arm curled around Franny's shoulders. The warmth of it was her undoing. With a sob, she hid her face against the other woman's bodice. "I can't work while I'm pregnant, May Belle. What'll happen to my family? To Jason and my mamma? They're so helpless. I've always taken care of them. What will they do without the money I've always taken home each month? How will they survive?"

  May Belle patted her back. "Weil think of some­thing, honey. We'll think of a way. I've got some money set aside."

  A pocket of air snagged in Franny's throat, and she nearly gagged on it. "I can't take your savings, May Belle. How would I pay it back? I can't stay here at the Lucky Nugget and raise a child. How can I continue working and raise a child anywhere? What sort of life would it have?"

  No answer. Just a heavy silence that spoke mo
re elo­quently than a thousand words.

  "We both know what I have to do," Franny whis­pered.

  "Let's not get hasty. There has to be another way. Just let me think on it for a bit."

  "What other way, May Belle? Name me a single one."

  "Maybe a couple who wants a baby? Let me do some asking around, hm?"

  "A whore's baby? Oh, May Belle, you're dreaming.

  People are afraid of disease and defects. You know it as well as I. And who can blame them? They'd have no way of knowing if I was healthy."

  "That doesn't mean we can't find someone."

  "And if we do? You and Shorty were counting on your money to build a house along the creek. I know you were. It might be years before I can pay you back. If I have the baby, I'll start back to work straight away, but most of what I make goes to support my family. The little bit that's left doesn't amount to a lot."

  "I'll think of something," the older woman vowed. "You just promise me you won't do anything rash until I get it worked out. Promise me, Franny. What you're thinking about—honey, more often than not, gals die doing that. They miss their mark and end up bleeding to death. You can't take that kind of chance."

  Franny wasn't sure she was going to have a choice, but rather than worry May Belle, she reluctantly promised not to do anything right away.

  "Listen," May Belle said. "I'm gonna walk down to the church and—"

  "The church?"

  "Of course, the church. What better place to start than with the preacher? He's sure to know a childless couple. And if he doesn't, he can ask around. There's bound to be someone who'd love to have a baby, Fran­ny. Someone who'd be willing to take a chance on its being healthy. We just have to look till we find them, that's all."

  Franny didn't share in her friend's optimism. When May Belle finally left, Franny lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. No matter how she circled it, she could see no conceivable way that she could carry this child. May Belle had been saving all her life for her retire­ment years. Franny couldn't allow her to squander that money. Unexpected pregnancies were a part of this profession. A woman grew hard and did what she had to. It was as simple and horrible as that.