Authors: Keeping Faith
Joseph caught his breath again and felt a nigh-irresistible desire to burst out of the brush and grab Buster by the scruff of the neck. He was going to get them all killed.
“Hold up, men!” Thames called, his voice louder. Much more sober than he’d been in the dram shop. Perhaps his behavior in town had been an act.
There was the sound of boots landing on the rocky edge of the creek bed. “I thought you said that wagon train was settling around these parts.”
“Not if we can’t find...land or...slaves to buy.” Buster’s voice sounded as if his throat had closed up on him.
“Boss, got some blood here,” called one of the other men. “Got a lot of it.”
Buster jumped from his horse and bent over. “Whoa! Lots of blood. Your men said they saw somebody coming this way. Think they got a shot at somebody?”
“If they did, I wasn’t told,” Thames growled.
“But why would they shoot at slave traders?” Buster demanded. “Don’t your men need all the help they can get?”
Thames straightened and looked at Buster for a long moment, but the kid was still looking down at the blood on the rocks.
“Looks like more than one person got shot,” Buster said. “See this here? And there’s some over there. What could cause this much blood loss?”
As Joseph continued watching and Buster continued to study the ground, Thames reached for his pistol and nodded to the other two men.
Joseph slowly cocked his weapon, making no sound, but suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone. The barrel of a rifle eased forward to his right. He didn’t have time to turn and look, but he knew Victoria was backing him up.
At the creek bank, Buster finally looked up to see the weapons aimed at him. He froze. “What are you doing?” he cried. “I thought you said you were looking for men to join your raiders!”
“I thought I caught the scent of an abolitionist,” Thames drawled. “You shouldn’t have changed your story.” Thames nodded to one of his men, who cocked his rifle. “Get up, kid.”
Buster didn’t move. “Nope. If I stay here, you might not be so quick to shoot me. Bullets can ricochet from rocks, you know. Want to take the chance you’ll end up shooting yourself?”
“Shoot him!” Thames told his rifleman.
Before Joseph could aim, a deafening blast caught him beside his right ear. The would-be shooter tumbled to the rocks beside Buster. Thames and his remaining cohort pivoted toward the trees where Joseph and Victoria stood camouflaged behind thick brush. The cohort raised his rifle.
Joseph caught the other man in the chest while Buster jumped to his feet and hauled a pistol out of his back pocket. It belonged to Deacon Fritz. What was Deacon thinking? The kid aimed his pistol at Thames and walked toward him, pointing the barrel directly into Thames’s face.
“Try to hurt my friends,
slaver,
and you won’t have a face for your murdering posse to recognize.” The gun in his hand shook, and rage turned his face red. “You know what? I think I’ll just get rid of one more bushwhacker, save a few helpless Africans.”
“Buster!” Joseph called. “No, don’t do it.”
At the sound of Joseph’s voice, Thames raised his weapon. Victoria shot the man in the forehead before Joseph could stop her. Buster jumped backward with a yelp, tripped over a rock and fell on his hind end. “Captain? Tell me that’s you!”
The rifle stock aimed upward. Joseph turned in time to see Victoria lose her grip on the barrel and stumble.
“I shot him,” she whispered.
Joseph caught both Victoria and her rifle at the same time and eased her onto the blanket beside Boaz. Though alert and slightly wide-eyed, the gelding hadn’t moved from his spot.
Victoria trembled violently, lips parted, eyes wide in shock. “I sh-shot him,” she whispered.
“I know. It wasn’t as simple as you expected it to be, was it?” Joseph glanced toward the creek. “Buster, bring us some water from the creek,” he called out. “I think we’re safe for now, but if you ever pull a prank like that again you’ll wish you’d been shot, because I know a lot more painful ways for a man to leave this world.”
He returned his attention to Victoria. “Are you okay?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I...really...shot them.”
Carefully, Joseph drew her into his arms and held her against his chest. His first thought was that her fever had worsened and he needed to break it. His second thought that this was likely the first time she’d killed a human being, much less two at one time, and she was in shock.
“You killed Matthew’s murderer, Victoria. He can’t hurt your friends now.”
“What if he’s already hurt Buck and Francine?”
“That kind of thinking will do you no good.” Joseph pressed his lips into her hair and continued to hold her. He didn’t want to let go, not ever. He wanted to stay beside her and protect her for the rest of their lives, and he didn’t care how many people thought he was being irreverent or inappropriate. This woman, this brilliant and caring doctor, needed someone to stand beside her always, to protect her so she could continue to heal and help others. He intended to be that person.
Before he could say anything to her, she closed her eyes and her head fell back against Boaz.
Chapter Fourteen
V
ictoria awakened to the spatter of rushing water and the sound of raised voices. Her leg screamed with pain and she gritted her teeth so hard she was afraid she might break some of them, but it was better than crying out. She opened her eyes to find Joseph and Buster Johnston, of all people, hovering over her. The smell of dried fish eggs, water, whiskey and the reassuring scent of horse reminded her where she was.
Had she really just shot two men? To save the life of this annoying upstart? What was he doing here? And why was he pretending to be a slaver?
But wasn’t one of the men she’d shot the very monster she’d chased through Missouri to seek revenge for her husband’s murder? And now she had her revenge. Why did it nauseate her?
She needn’t ask Buster any questions because Joseph was doing an admirable job of grilling him.
“Captain,” Buster whined, “I didn’t have a choice. Deacon Fritz and Heidi Ladue came riding into the camp like their horses’ tails were afire. Said the doctor was hurt bad and they were trying to lure the border ruffians away from her while you hid her.”
“So Fritz sent you alone with those men to follow their tracks?” Joseph leaned over Victoria with a cloth of icy-cold water from a spring that fed the creek.
“Well, no, but what was I supposed to do? Four men came riding into town along that same creek a little later, their horses all sweaty and slathering, and they went barging into the dram shop. A couple of minutes later they came out, all mad and glaring because that guy with the braid was shouting so loud his voice echoed from the cliffs across the creek.”
“And you thought that would be a good time to join them?”
“Pa always said when folks was all riled up was the best time to convince them you’re part of their crowd. I waited until the other fellas took their lathered-up horses to the stables and did what you told us to, asked Thames if they knew of any land or slaves for sale. Then I told them I’d seen someone I thought was looking for land and slaves go riding down Capps Creek, and I thought I knew where they were going.”
“And he let you ride with them, just like that?”
“Sure did. I told you, those men were all het up. Fella wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Then you forgot your original story and told them we were headed for Kansas Territory. Not much of a liar, are you, son?”
Buster kicked at a rock. “I guess I got kind of caught up in the excitement. It slipped out.”
Joseph groaned. “You took it upon yourself to join their gang and spy on them? You thought that was a smart thing to do when you didn’t know anything about them?”
“It’s what you’d’ve done, Captain. You wouldn’t’ve let them get to the doctor.”
“That’s right, and you should have trusted I was doing just that—keeping them away from her by hiding her where they couldn’t find her. But now the trail is so obvious a three-year-old could find it, so I have to get her out of here.”
“How could I know that?” Buster spread his hands. “How was I supposed to know you were prepared?”
“When’s the last time you saw me unprepared?” The tone of Joseph’s voice deepened. “Except, perhaps, when you and your brother convinced Claude Ladue to help you cross the flooded river.”
There was an unhappy sigh from Buster. “I know, Captain. It’s all I think about. I’m doing all I can to make things better.”
“I’ll tell you what you can do,” Joseph said. “You need to push the bodies of those border attackers into the middle of the creek and hope they keep on floating southeast.”
Buster swallowed so loudly that Victoria heard it over the rush of the creek. “I...I can do that.”
“You sure?”
“No burial or nothing?”
“I’m here to keep Victoria alive, not bury killers. Do you have a shovel? Can you dig the graves and carry those bodies to their graves and cover them up before someone comes looking for them?”
“I’ll get ’em into the water.”
“Good. Then you need to gather their horses and ride as fast and far as you can against the wind.”
“Huh?”
“West. The weather usually comes from the west. Then you unsaddle the horses, set them free and then hightail it back to Jolly Mill before their friends realize what’s up and peg you as the culprit. Did anyone see you leaving with them?”
“Don’t think so.”
“You don’t
think
so?”
“The four men who rode after Deacon and Heidi took their horses to the stables before I went to talk to Thames, but I don’t know who else might’ve been with their crowd. It’s kind of quiet and watchful in town, you know.”
Joseph closed his eyes and shook his head. “As soon as you get back to town, tell Fritz and Reich what’s happening here, but don’t tell another soul.” Joseph stopped dabbing the water across Victoria’s face and gave the kid a hard look. “And if you do tell another soul, I will come after you myself. I have a good aim. Don’t you go risking still more lives so you can play hero.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Buster sounded like a petulant child, but he did as he was told and crashed his way through the brush toward the horses.
“Lead the animals through the creek until you can get to a rocky ridge where their footsteps won’t be noticeable,” Joseph called after him. “I can’t move Victoria quickly and I don’t need all those tracks leading more men back to us.”
Victoria pushed herself up on her elbows. “I can ride.”
“No, you can’t. You can barely move right now, and you’re in shock,” Joseph said. “Buster Johnston, just go, now!”
* * *
Victoria was pretty sure she would die soon. She suddenly felt like it. Rallying her strength to back up Joseph had taken the last of her energy.
There were some loud splashes when Buster gave the dead men a water burial. Next came a major scuffle while the kid herded horses and apparently got tangled in four sets of bridles. If the kid was as awkward with the rest of his mission as he always had been, he would lead other ruffians directly to their hideout.
Joseph placed another cloth of icy water over her face, touched her neck and arms, brushed her hair back. She wished she felt well enough to enjoy his attention.
“Victoria, lie still. I’m going to search for some of those plants you had Heidi and Mrs. Reich gathering the other day.”
“Has the bleeding truly stopped?”
“I’ve seen no more blood come through the packing I’ve placed there. I think the potato starch has done the trick.” Joseph moved Victoria away from Boaz and urged the horse to his feet. He reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out a hatchet. “I think we’ll do this a different way.”
“What?” She looked askance at the tool he held as he reached for a sapling.
“Boaz has pulled a litter before. It’ll take longer to get you to town this way, but we need to get you away from here.”
“Is Buster gone?” She heard no more splashing.
“He finally figured out how to lead all those horses downstream and out the other side.”
“He was trying to help,” she admitted.
“He did us no good stirring up the rocks along the creek with all the horse tracks.”
“Those men might have found us if not for Buster distracting them.” She couldn’t believe she was defending the boy.
Joseph chopped two matching saplings—sassafras, by the smell of them—and knelt beside Victoria. He gave her some sassafras chips. “These may help settle your stomach if you hold one in your mouth.”
He placed one on her tongue and gave her more for later. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a mouse that’s been chewed on by a cat.”
“Rest while I work.” He felt her forehead again. “I don’t think you’re any warmer, but we still need to get your fever down.”
“I didn’t pack the feverfew.”
“Then we need to get you to Heidi and her wagon.”
Joseph spread out a blanket and helped her onto it so she could rest while he built the litter. He had come prepared for everything, and after weaving some vines back and forth between the cut saplings, he tied the ends to either side of the saddle with leather strips and laid his coat across the woven vines.
With gentle movements, he lifted her and the blanket from the ground and laid her onto the litter. “I’ll lead Boaz and find the smoothest route, but we’ll have to avoid the creek. That seems to have become a regular road today, with too much traffic.”
He gave her a few sips of water from a wineskin and then left it beside her on the litter. “You know the drill, Doctor. A few sips at a time. Don’t overdo it, but keep drinking as much as you can. If you start to feel worse, let me know and we can stop.”
She looked up into Joseph’s worry-lined face. Hot tears filled her eyes and dripped down the sides of her cheeks. It seemed she could do nothing today but cry. “All I feel right now is grateful.”
“Good, go with that feeling and keep drinking the water.”
She gazed up at him and the sky spun above his head. She closed her eyes. “So grateful.”
“Victoria?”
She opened her eyes again, and he knelt beside her. He touched her face tenderly and adjusted the blanket beneath her. “I’ll take care of you. I’m not losing you again.”
Fighting darkness and dizziness, she couldn’t help smiling. “I love you, too.”
His movements stopped. “Try telling me that when you’re not delirious with fever.”
“I will. I promise.” She closed her eyes again, and the darkness settled around his image—that image of a man who loved her and who would never let her go. The image lasted as she felt herself moving and heard Joseph talking to Boaz. It lasted even into her dark dreams. His imprint on her mind stayed and fought off the evil of the nightmares that haunted her of a man with a braided tail of silver whose evil killed a kind and gentle doctor...and of the horror she’d felt when she killed the man. Revenge. Somehow, she had expected it to be much more satisfying. All she felt was broken, as if she would never be the same again.
She was a physician. She healed people. She didn’t kill them.
As Joseph continued to lead Boaz forward through the soft grasses, Victoria’s eyes dripped with tears as she relived the awfulness of taking a human life.
* * *
After an hour of travel over the softest ground Joseph could find, he heard the rustle of brush to his left, near where a spring bubbled up and trailed a tiny stream toward the creek. He reached for his rifle and swung around, and his gelding stopped.
He saw long, golden-white strands of hair tangled in a tree, then he heard a grunt and saw a tow-headed boy untangle the strands. It was Gray and Heidi.
Of all the undisciplined... “What are you two doing here?”
“Buster just got back and told us to—”
“Buster? He’s already back in Jolly Mill? What about the horses?”
“What horses? He was on his horse.”
Joseph sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He wished he’d been more specific about how far Buster should lead those animals. The kid had probably led them barely a mile away and released them. No telling which way they would go or how soon they would turn up.
And what had he just told Buster earlier? To get to town and stay there. To tell no one but the men where they were. “It appears we’re doing the dirty work for the ruffians, breaking ground for them to follow.” Buster. As soon as he got his hands on that boy—
“I’m sorry,” Heidi said. “Buster said you didn’t want us here, but I couldn’t do what you asked.” She rushed to the traveling pallet behind Boaz, fell to her knees and burst into tears. “Please, Captain, tell me she’s not—”
“She isn’t dead,” Joseph assured the girl. Why couldn’t any of these young ones do as they were asked? What was happening with children these days? “Heidi, you could be placing us in danger. I need you and Gray to return to Jolly Mill. And take a different route, if you don’t mind.”
“Can’t, Captain,” Gray said. “I know.” He raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. “I know you didn’t want me to listen to Buster, but this time I think he’s right. Besides, even Mr. Fritz said we needed to come. He’s back at our new camp up on the hill making sure nobody follows us. Heidi brought medicines from the wagon and Mrs. Reich found the doctor’s friends. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Okay?” It was an effort for Joseph to control his temper. “Did your brother not tell you we killed three of the ruffians?”
“Yessir, but—”
“We could be bringing war down on our heads and on the wagon train because Buster couldn’t keep his mouth shut and do what he was told.”
“No choice,” Gray said. “Buster said he saw those men leave the dram shop and head down Capps Creek. They’d’ve found you for sure.”
“Unlike your brother, I left no tracks for them to find.” Joseph flung down the lead rope, knowing Boaz would stay where he was. “But now if someone else rides that way they’re going to see the blood of three dead slavers. Who do you think they’ll blame?”
“Buster?”
“Abolitionists. Most likely, the whole wagon train. Or even strangers traveling through. They’ll blame whoever suits their need for bloodlust.”
“Buster said he caught a smell of whiskey where they stopped. Don’t ya think they’d’ve caught a whiff and gone looking for the source?” He sniffed toward Victoria. “That’s what you’re using for medicine, right?”
Joseph gritted his teeth and looked down at Victoria, who was having a quiet conversation with a tearful Heidi.
“Buster’s back there cleaning everything up now,” Gray said. “Mr. Reich came with us after Buster told us what happened.”
Joseph closed his eyes for a moment, relieved despite his anger. Reich. The voice of wisdom. Thank the Lord this would be the final journey for Joseph. Thirty wasn’t old, but he suddenly felt as if he’d aged too much, riding back and forth from St. Louis to Kansas Territory these past few years, sometimes twice.
For some reason, Joseph had softened on this trip. He blamed Victoria’s influence completely. Something about her had gentled the hardness that had grown within him, and he no longer kept the firm control over those in his charge the way he had before.
“I brought laudanum.” Heidi’s soft, tentative voice turned him from his musings. “Mrs. Frasier gave me some. She’s a nice lady, but she had some scary news. Did you know she and Buck are hiding thirty people who were slaves?”