"I lit the candle, but when I looked at him he was unconscious. I lifted him and when the bed covers fell from his arm, I saw the bone had been broken. Then—I thought of you, and brought him here."
Powell knew that her fear that the child she carried might be dying in her arms, or that she might not find anyone but Chappo at the Springs, must have made the three-mile walk seem endless.
"Were you alone?"
"Yes. Juan is on the San Pedro for ten days and my husband went to Willcox yesterday morning. He does not expect to return home for a week. I had no horse or I could have ridden here."
"You and Donnie must go to bed now and rest," commanded the doctor, cutting short the words she was about to utter. "I have a guest room and Chappo sees to everything necessary, so you need not fear you are causing me the least inconvenience. Tomorrow we can drive down to your place and take inventory of the damage. Since Juan has the adobes ready to use, Chappo and I can fix up the wall. I learned all about adobes while I lived in South America eight years ago."
"That was the same year we came here," commented the woman.
Powell smothered an ejaculation of indignation and wonder at her endurance of such a life. "Yet," he mused, "a bruised flower becomes more fragrant." His elbow rested on the mantle and he looked down, studying her face line by line. Again that vague resemblance baffled him until he recalled a stream near his boyhood home, where a shallow current reached a bend and formed a deep pool. He had loved to sprawl on the bank and gaze into the wonderful, ever-changing reflections, where rough trees were softened, the sky became more blue and the many-hued flowers more beautiful. It was a magic pool to his boyish eyes; in later years be called it his Pool of Illusion.
Down in its mysterious depths lived a shadowy form. A woman's face with steadfast eyes looked back into his own, understanding his unspoken dreams, while her slender white hands were held out to him. The longing to touch them was actual physical pain, and often he dived into the water, but the vision vanished in the ripples. He had gone his way, looking into many women's faces in many lands, always hoping to find what he had seen in his Pool of Illusion, but the years of search had been fruitless.
Tonight the firelight from his hearth flickered across that dream face.
The dream and reality blended so perfectly that it startled him when Katherine rose from her chair and held out her hand, saying, "I do thank you with all my heart. I shall never forget what you have done for us. Maybe some day I can show my gratitude."