A Dream for Tomorrow (7 page)

“Even if he survived that fall, which seems unlikely, he’ll be severely injured.” Flo shook her head. “Too bad they didn’t dump that piano when they had the chance.”

Belinda and Amelia Bramford joined them now. Mahala filled them in on the accident with descriptive details, but when the girls started to go over to see, Elizabeth stopped them. “We need to stay out of the way of the rescue team.”

Just then Captain Brownlee arrived on horseback. First he surveyed the wreckage and the rescue efforts, and then he came over to the women. “Although this is all very unfortunate, just as I’ve told the men, all those who aren’t directly helping with the rescue need to get back to their wagons and continue on over the pass.” He pointed to the darkening sky. “That storm will be here soon, and the going doesn’t get any easier with a downpour.” He turned his horse toward the back of the train, yelling a command for all to hear. “
Wagons ho!
”

“I need to go to my wagon,” Elizabeth told them. To her relief, she saw Brady and her children rushing back to find out what happened. Without going into much detail, she filled them in and then instructed the children to hurry. “JT, you go and ride with Jess,” she told him. “Tell her that Matthew is helping rescue Mr. Taylor. And Brady, can you drive for my mother while my father helps with the rescue?”

“Sho ’nuff.” He nodded eagerly as they hurried back to her wagon, where Elizabeth explained the captain’s instructions to her mother.

“Mrs. Taylor can ride with me,” she told Clara.

Mrs. Taylor tried to object, stating she didn’t want to leave her husband behind, but she was clearly in no condition to remain there.

“Help me get her into the back of the wagon,” Elizabeth said to Brady and Ruth and her mother. It wasn’t easy, but they eventually got Mrs. Taylor settled on the bed and covered with a quilt with Ruth sitting faithfully by her side. And before long Elizabeth was back to driving her team around the dangerous switchbacks, trying not to look down and praying for the safety of her family and for poor Mr. Taylor. However—and she hoped she was wrong—she had a strong suspicion that Mr. Taylor was already making his own appeals to God in his maker’s presence.

Chapter Five

E
lizabeth was driving her wagon around the last switchback when the dark clouds broke open and big fat raindrops began to strike the canvas so loudly it sounded as if handfuls of gravel were being pelted down on them. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, but her team plodded steadfastly along, following the Schneiders’ wagon up the trail toward a high meadow. Although the animals’ heads were down, it was almost as if they sensed their workday was nearly done. They knew they’d soon be fed and watered and allowed to rest for the night.

“We’re almost there,” she called back into the confines of the wagon, peeking to see that Mrs. Taylor still appeared to be resting quietly. Ruth, with her doll in her lap, was sitting patiently nearby, ready to play nursemaid if needed. Whether the old woman was merely asleep or actually unconscious due to the shock of her ordeal, Elizabeth was unsure. She was simply grateful that she wasn’t giving Ruth any problems.

As she drove she tried to imagine the implications of today’s disaster. Mr. Taylor seemed likely to be deceased. In that case, someone would have to look after Mrs. Taylor. And if by some miracle Mr. Taylor had survived that horrible fall, he would need even more care than his wife—and they would both need food, shelter, and transportation. As sorry as she felt for the Taylors, she also felt fresh anger simmering inside of her. Their foolishness had put everyone in a very difficult position.

Even now, as she pulled on James’ old oilskin barn coat and then maneuvered her wagon into the circle that was slowly forming for their unit, she thought of Matthew and her father out there risking their lives in a thunderstorm on a dangerous ravine…and for what? To pull out a dead man’s body? To rescue a few food supplies for Mrs. Taylor’s benefit? All because a foolish, stubborn woman had refused to relinquish an out-of-tune piano?

“You stay here with Mrs. Taylor,” she called to Ruth as she put on the brakes. “I’ll see to the team.” She climbed down, pulling the oilskin coat more tightly around her as she started to remove the heavy harnesses from the team. It was still raining steadily, but the lightning and thunder had moved on by now. She tried not to feel angry as she cared for her animals. Normally, JT and Brady would be available to help with this chore, but now they were busy helping Jess and Clara…all because of Mrs. Taylor’s selfishness.

As she struggled to free the horses from the gear, Elizabeth silently prayed to God, asking him to help her to get over her anger toward Mrs. Taylor. As she led the pair of Percherons over to a line that Jeremiah Bramford was just setting, she tried to remember what Mrs. Taylor was going through. Elizabeth knew what it was like to lose a beloved husband.

“Let me help you with those,” Jeremiah offered.

“Thanks,” she told him. “But I’m sure you have your hands full too.” She had noticed that Will and Hugh remained at the scene of the accident to help as well.

“It’s no problem,” he assured her as he took her horses, nodding to the other animals that were already secured to the line. “Julius and I worked together.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“I’ve always admired this team.” He stroked Bella’s damp coat. “They’re the most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank you very much. I like them!”

“Dad says you and your family raised horses in Kentucky.”

She nodded. “Yes, but mostly we were farmers.”

He lowered his voice now. “Do you think Mr. Taylor is dead?”

She sadly shook her head. “I don’t know. But I am praying for them both.”

“Well, go ahead and get the rest of your team,” he told her. “I’ll take care of these two.”

Fortunately, JT and Brady soon arrived, and Elizabeth learned that JT had ridden with Clara and Brady when it was decided that a wagon should remain behind and Jess volunteered. Elizabeth was glad to have help with the end-of-the-day chores. Whether it was the rain or the aftermath of the accident, everything seemed to take longer than usual, but eventually Elizabeth and her mother had a fire going and supper cooking. Ruth was still playing nursemaid to Mrs. Taylor, who was either sleeping or simply unable to move. Clara took a cup of chamomile tea to her and returned with a worried expression. “Mrs. Taylor seems unwell.”

“I would imagine she is very unwell.” Elizabeth scooped a cup of rice from the barrel. “She’s been through a shocking experience.”

“More than just that,” Clara said. “She has a very gray look about her. The same sort of coloring Aunt Beatrice had before she passed on last winter.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I know there’s a doctor in unit three. Should we send JT for him?”

“Perhaps.”

After JT left to locate the doctor, Elizabeth felt even more guilty for her ill feelings toward Mrs. Taylor. What if the poor woman was dying? “Maybe we can use some of this gravy to make soup for Mrs. Taylor,” she suggested to her mother. “Perhaps mash some rice into it?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.”

Elizabeth was just filling a bowl with some buffalo and rice broth when JT returned with Dr. Nash in tow. “I’ll take you to her,” she told the doctor. “I made her some soup.”

“Your son told me that her husband, Mr. Taylor, is most likely dead?”

“We don’t know for sure, but I doubt he survived the fall.”

“I didn’t hear of the accident until we were making camp. I could take a horse back there…to see if I can be of any help.”

She paused by the back of her wagon. “Right now, you might be of more help with Mrs. Taylor.” She pulled the canvas back. “Ruth, please help Grandma with supper now.”

Ruth looked glad to be relieved of her nursemaid duties. Elizabeth and the doctor climbed into the wagon, where she lit a lantern and assured Mrs. Taylor that there had been no news regarding her husband while the doctor began to examine her. He listened to her heart and checked her pulse and a few other things, including asking her some questions, which she answered in a weak, tired voice.

“I suspect you are simply overwrought over today’s ordeal,” he finally proclaimed. “It’s certainly understandable.” He turned to Elizabeth. “I would prescribe a good deal of rest and soups and tea like you’ve made here. As well as…” He lowered his voice. “An occasional dose of spirits to build up her blood.”

Elizabeth blinked. “A dose of
spirits
? Where am I to get that?”

“I believe Ruby Morris still has a small supply. I’ve sent a few others her way.” Dr. Nash gave her a sly smile. “Strictly for medicinal purposes, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll head back down the trail and see how Mr. Taylor has fared.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Taylor said weakly. “Please do.”

As he climbed out, Elizabeth held the bowl of soup in front of Mrs. Taylor. “And while the doctor is seeing about Mr. Taylor, you can sit up and eat this soup. It’ll help to build your strength back up.”

Mrs. Taylor reluctantly complied, and with Elizabeth’s help and encouragement, she managed to get the full bowl down. “Now I want you to obey the doctor’s orders and continue to rest.” Elizabeth helped her to lie back down.

“But…Horace…” Mrs. Taylor’s looked helplessly up at her.

“As soon as we know something, we will tell you. In the meantime, just rest.” Elizabeth took the empty bowl and climbed out of the wagon. Instead of returning to her parents’ campsite, she went directly to Ruby’s wagon.

“Elizabeth.” Ruby smiled to see Elizabeth approaching. “Welcome!”

“How are the Taylors?” Doris asked eagerly. “We heard of their troubles.”

Elizabeth was surprised at how compassionate these two women were, especially after the Taylors had practically accused them of running a brothel during the first part of this journey. Mrs. Taylor nearly managed to get them kicked out of the wagon train. Putting that behind her, Elizabeth gave her the latest news, which wasn’t much. “My mother was worried that poor Mrs. Taylor might be having heart problems as a result of her shock, but Dr. Nash from unit three just examined her.”

“And she is all right?” Doris asked.

“I think so. But he did recommend that she receive a dose of spirits.” Elizabeth made an uncomfortable smile. “That’s why I’m here.”

Ruby laughed loudly. “The doc wants you to give Mrs. Taylor some whiskey?”

“He said it would be good for her blood.”

“I don’t doubt that. But do you honestly think she’ll willingly imbibe?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Probably not.”

“She will if you tell her it’s just medicine,” Doris suggested. “I’ll go find a bottle to put some in. What the old gal doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“I never liked the Taylors,” Ruby admitted as Doris was fetching the whiskey, “but I never wished them no ill. Nothing like this anyway.”

“Here you go.” Doris handed Elizabeth a tall amber bottle with a cork on top. “Medicine.”

“Thank you.” Elizabeth slid the bottle into a pocket of her oilskin, and feeling a bit like a bootlegger, she hurried back to her wagon. “I got the medicine Dr. Nash recommended,” she told Mrs. Taylor as she opened the bottle and filled the soup spoon with the strong-smelling liquid. “Open wide.” Mrs. Taylor complied but then wrinkled her nose at the taste.