Wagonmaster (5 page)

A short time later, Josh rubbed his aching shoulder. The pain hadn't eased at all. The throbbing in his bruised arm had lessened, but he could hardly move it without sending shots of fire through his shoulder. With a tired sigh, he headed toward Addie's wagon. She'd probably want to examine it again, but he doubted she could do anything for it. It would heal with time.

Addie leaned against her wagon with a tin cup in one hand. The other held a bottle of what looked like whiskey. God bless the woman! A good shot of whiskey would do wonders for the pain in his shoulder.

Josh stopped before her. She said nothing, but the twinkle in her eyes warned him the whiskey would have strings attached. “Name your price, darlin'.”

Her eyes widened in a false show of innocence. “Price?” She took a sip from the cup and ran her tongue across her lips. “You know, my father says this is the finest whiskey in the world. I brought it with me all the way from Boston. Would you like to taste it?”

He planned to do more than just taste it, but for now he'd play along with her little game. Maybe he'd even beat her at it. He grinned at her and reached for the top of her braid to hold her immobile. “Yes, I would.” He kissed her. She whimpered and leaned into him, and he almost forgot his intent. He reached for the cup and took it from her hand. Addie didn't even seem to notice. She lifted her empty hand and buried her fingers in his hair.

Heaven above!
Her kisses never failed to rattle him. His body reacted the moment his lips touched hers. The tightening in his groin distracted his thoughts from the ungodly pain in his shoulder, but he knew he couldn't quench the thirst this kiss caused. He'd have to settle for the whiskey. A groan escaped him as he tore his lips away from hers. He cleared his throat. “That's some mighty fine whiskey.” He lifted the cup and drained it in one gulp.
Damn
. The cup hadn't even been halfway full.

“You don't play fair, Reynolds.” She narrowed her eyes, but they held no anger.

“Neither do you. There was hardly more than a sip in that cup.”

She smiled and waved the bottle. “Ah, but I have more.”

“So I'll ask again. At what price?”

She stood as tall as her small frame would allow. “Let me treat your shoulder.”

Josh closed his eyes and shook his head. “I told you, darlin'. It'll be fine, I don't need a doctor.”

“Your shoulder is dislocated, Reynolds. It will not heal until it's back in its proper place.” He started to argue, but she continued. “I know you're in pain, Joshua. Let me help you.”

“You can help me by giving me some more of that whiskey.”

“The whiskey will only dull the pain for a little while. I can make the pain go away.”

He knew exactly how he'd like for her to make his pains go away. His body still hadn't recovered from the jolt of lust the kiss had delivered. He clenched his jaw.

She stared at him. With another wave of the bottle, she repeated her terms. “Let me fix your shoulder. Then you can have another cup.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Maybe he could use her sympathy to win this little game. “It hurts like hell, Addie.” He gave her what he hoped was a pained expression. “I don't want anyone touching my shoulder.”

She laughed. “Nice try, handsome. But you'll get no pity from me. Especially not when it's your own stubbornness keeping you in pain.”

Josh gritted his teeth. She wasn't going to give in. But that was one of the things he admired most about her. She never gave up. He couldn't help but smile. “You drive a hard bargain, little lady.”

She pointed to the ground. “Lie facedown on that tarp.”

In the fading light, he hadn't noticed the tarp spread out on the grass next to the wagon. “Sure of yourself, aren't you?” He laid on the piece of canvas.

“I wanted to make sure you didn't have time to change your mind. Now stretch your arm out to the side.”

He grunted in pain, unable to extend his arm completely as she'd instructed. “You're going to kill me, aren't you?”

“I'll just put you out of your misery.” He could almost hear the smile in her voice. She ran her fingers lightly over his uninjured shoulder, then over the injured one. “Definitely dislocated. I'll have it back in place in a jiffy.” She put her hand under his left arm and leaned down. Something touched his shoulder. Was it her knee? “This might hurt a little.”

Suddenly she pushed her full weight on his shoulder and lifted his arm. Something popped loudly. A searing pain in his shoulder followed the sound. “Argh!” The cry had no sooner left his lips than her weight left him. He sat up quickly. “Hell, woman! I'm going to need more than one cup of whiskey after that….” Surprise filled him. The pain was gone. Gingerly, he rotated his shoulder. “Well, I'll be damned. It still aches a little, but the real pain is gone.”

She raised her brows as if to say ‘I told you so' and retrieved the cup and bottle she'd set aside. She removed the cork and poured a generous amount. Josh stood, and Addie handed him the cup. “Your shoulder will be a bit tender until it's completely healed,” she said softly. “You should be careful to avoid pulling on it. Now that the ligaments and tendons have been stretched, it can be dislocated again fairly easily.”

He didn't really need the whiskey now, but he wasn't about to turn it down. “Thank you, Addie.”

She just smiled. “You're welcome. Good-night, Reynolds.” She spun on her heel and climbed into her wagon.

Josh sipped the liquor and agreed with her father. This was the best whiskey he'd ever had. But it tasted even better on Addie's lips.

* * * *

Addie set the brake when Reynolds called a halt for the midday meal. The past three weeks had been long and hard. At first, the mud from the heavy rains hampered them. Cold weather followed. They had stopped for a day near Fort Hall to rest and restock a few supplies. Then the weather turned dry, forcing them to ration their water. A few days ago, it had finally rained again. Addie and the others had set out buckets and tubs to collect the precious liquid. Soft and slow, the welcomed rain left a few puddles and a bit of mud, but there had been no more incidents of stuck wagons. Last night they had made camp near a trickling stream fed by the recent showers.

Addie thought about the journey thus far. Reynolds had told her they'd made good time. October brought nights so cold she'd added two more blankets to her bed. Josh never joined her in the wagon after their evening chats anymore. He hadn't kissed her again either, and a part of her longed for him to hold her. She shoved those thoughts away. It was foolish for her to hope he might change his mind. During their talks, she'd learned little about the man other than the fact that Joshua Reynolds was a loner. He did not want a wife or family. He had mentioned an interest in starting his own ranch, but everything else about the man's past and his dreams of the future remained a mystery.

Addie waved at Mrs. Fleming before climbing into her wagon to find something to eat. Far less hostile to her now, several of the train members had been quite pleasant. Though she still wouldn't claim to have a friendship with any of them, they had apparently accepted her.

She pulled some leftover flapjacks from a basket along with a piece of meat Reynolds had given her. With her stomach rumbling, she hung her coffee pot on a hook over the fire and used a pole to cook the meat. When the meat was done, she wrapped a flapjack around it and ate. The constant labor involved with traveling with the train had increased her appetite more than she'd ever expected.

The winds blew harder, and Addie pulled her shawl around her. She surveyed the land. An ocean of tall grass the color of amber coated the countryside. White-topped mountains stood tall against the brilliant blue, cloudless sky. A hawk soared above, and a chill hung in the air. She curled both hands around the bottom of her cup to keep them warm and sipped her coffee. Someone calling to her interrupted the quiet reprieve.

“Mrs. Reynolds!”

Mrs. Wheeler hurried towards her. Addie set her cup down and waited for her.

Before she had the chance to greet her, Mrs. Wheeler grabbed her arm. “Mrs. Reynolds, I need your help. Elias, my boy, is deathly sick. He's got a fever! And I—”

Addie stopped her. “Of course, Mrs. Wheeler. Let's go take a look at him.” They began walking back toward the Wheeler's wagon, and she patted the worried mother's hand where it still clung to Addie's arm. “Tell me more about his symptoms.”

Reynolds joined them. “Is something wrong?”

Addie rushed to answer, seeking to calm Mrs. Wheeler in the process. “Elias is sick, but we'll have him good as new in no time.”

The other two Wheeler children sat with their father outside their wagon. One of the little girls looked a bit flushed and not her usual vibrant self. Reynolds waited outside with them. Addie followed Mrs. Wheeler into the wagon.

Elias lay on a makeshift bed atop a large trunk. Rosy spots on his otherwise pale cheeks indicated a high fever. Addie made a quick examination, noting the lack of color in the child's fingertips when she pressed on his nails. Dry, cracked lips accompanied his shallow breathing. These symptoms of dehydration frightened her.

She pressed her palm against his forehead to judge the severity of the fever. Addie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She couldn't let her fear show. Mrs. Wheeler would panic, and Addie needed her to remain calm and help her treat the boy and his sister as well.

She turned to the boy's mother. “I'll need to go back to my wagon and prepare a treatment for him.” Addie strode to the end of the wagon. “In the meantime, I want you to be sure that no one else from your family drinks any water from your stores unless it's been boiled first. Do you understand?”

“Boiled? What do you mean? Is our water bad?”

Addie paused as she climbed down the ladder. “I believe his illness may have been caused by some tainted water. It's best to be safe. Studies have shown that boiled water is less likely to make you ill.”

Not wanting Mrs. Wheeler to ply her with any further questions, Addie jumped down from the ladder and hurried toward her own wagon. Reynolds fell into step beside her.

“Tainted water?” His low voice told her he realized the implications of what she'd said.

“Yes. The stream we used last night must have been the source.” Addie reached the steps on her wagon and started to climb inside.

Reynolds grasped her arm and swung her around to face him. “Is it…?” He paused in his question as if he didn't want to say the word that might mean a death sentence for the little boy. A grim expression darkened his face. He knew.

Addie nodded. “Yes, Joshua. It's cholera.”

Addie boiled the water, adding a cup of sugar and a spoonful of salt. “This will help keep him from losing any more fluids. I can only hope it's not too late. If any of the others show any symptoms, especially loose stools, I need to know right away.”

Josh grunted. “We'll camp here tonight. I'll call a meeting.”

“That's good. Everyone needs to know to take precautions with any water collected from the stream.”

“We have to keep moving, though, Addie. We may not have any more rain for days, and we won't reach Thousand Springs for almost a week. We'll run out of water if we don't keep going.”

She nodded. “Then we'll keep moving. I'll teach family members to administer the treatment. Those who aren't sick can drive the wagons.” Addie pulled the pot from over the fire and poured the medicine into a pitcher. “We'll all have to work together. Make sure they know that.” She grabbed the pitcher and took several steps before she turned around. “And Joshua, ask Mr. Fleming to hold a prayer service tonight. It's important that everyone not panic or lose hope. Keeping faith will give them strength.”

He nodded, his expression grim. “Sometimes faith is all we have.” She turned, but he stopped her with his next words. “But this time, God gave us you. Thank you for being here, Addie.”

Addie smiled. “We both know I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, Joshua. Thank you for bringing me.”

* * * *

Mrs. Wheeler and Addie spent a sleepless night treating Elias and his sister, Anna. Not yet as sick as Elias, she was able to sip the sugar-and-salt water and prevent the severe dehydration her brother suffered. Addie and the child's mother took turns spooning drops of liquid into Elias's mouth, sometimes stroking his throat encouraging him to swallow. Just as the early light of dawn touched the sky, his fever broke. The child would recover.

Addie gave the Wheelers the good news and warned them to tell her immediately if anyone else in the family showed any symptoms. She explained that both Elias and Anna would be weak for a few days. They'd need more of the medicine and extra rest.

She climbed from their wagon. Reynolds met her. “Mrs. Evans is sick.”

Addie prepared another batch of medicine using the last of her sugar and instructed the Evans' teenage daughter who would be her mother's caregiver. In a rush, Addie readied her wagon to begin another grueling day on the trail. Too late to cook a meal, she grabbed the last of her leftover flapjacks and washed it down with water. To her relief, Addie's water stores had not been contaminated by the creek water. She'd managed to fill her water barrel with rainwater. That didn't mean she wasn't susceptible to the cholera, though. She'd used water from the creek to wash and she'd no doubt had some to drink as well as used the water in cooking that night. Addie tried to remember how many days cholera might develop after a person was exposed to it. The medical books had been unclear with some doctors claiming the symptoms would appear within hours, other citing cases where a person developed the illness up to a week after exposure. There may be many cases to be treated in the coming days.

By supper, three others had reported symptoms. Addie substituted honey for the sugar and prepared more medicine. She made rounds all evening and well into the night. By midnight two more cases were identified. She boiled more of the concoction that had been so effective thus far. It was fortunate that they'd managed to begin treatment so soon. Everyone on the wagon train knew that if she hadn't diagnosed the cause so quickly, if she hadn't known how to treat it, several of them would have died. Cholera could kill a person in less than a day.

Addie fell into bed a few hours before dawn. She awoke to the feel of a rough palm caressing her cheek.

“Addie. Darlin', I know you're tired, but the Adams boy is sick. We need your help.”

Instantly awake, she resisted the urge to turn her face into his palm. “Will you start some water boiling while I dress?”

“I already have.” He offered her a cup, steaming and aromatic. “I brought you some coffee. It's not as good as yours.”

Addie sat up and took the cup from his hands. “Thank you.” She drank deeply and grimaced at the bitter taste. “It's perfect.”

“Liar.”

She smiled and took another drink. Her gaze met his. The tender, unguarded look his eyes held surprised her. He kept the eye contact a moment longer and spoke. His deep, gravelly voice warmed her skin and sent shivers down her spine. “You're amazing, Addie. We'd be lost without you.”

She wanted to respond with something witty and light, but she couldn't find her voice. His unexpected admiration left her stunned. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught. He reached up, brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, turned, and left. She watched the canvas fall over the opening and wondered if she would ever understand the man.

* * * *

Addie entered the Adams' wagon to the sound of sobs. Mrs. Adams sat next to the two-year-old's crib. “Oh, Mrs. Reynolds! He's so sick. He's been crying, and his poor little legs have been cramping.”

Addie moved to check the baby. A blue tint stained his lips, and the skin on his hands showed some bruising. “How long has he been sick? When did the symptoms begin?”

The woman's tearful gaze met hers. “Before I put him to bed last night.”

Addie began spooning the medicine into the child's mouth. The boy's sunken eyes and a low temperature sent an ominous chill though her. He was in the advanced stages of the cholera. Her medical training told her the treatment was probably hopeless, but her heart denied the thought.

The train readied to depart, but Addie would not leave the boy's side. Reynolds agreed to drive her wagon. For hours, she spooned the liquid into his mouth, desperately trying to replace the fluids the child had lost. His breathing became more and more shallow. Her hands shook, and her eyes burned, but she refused to give up on the boy.

* * * *

Josh called a halt for lunch. He climbed down from the wagon and stretched his aching muscles. He'd forgotten what it was like to sit in that seat for hours at a time, but Addie had done it without complaint.

Addie
. He'd thought of nothing but her all morning. She'd worked tirelessly to help everyone on the train. It was true the others had been friendlier towards her, but most had been little more than polite. Mr. Adams no longer openly disapproved, but Josh knew he'd forbidden Mrs. Adams to befriend Addie.

None of that had mattered to the good doctor. Even now she worked to help the son of a man who'd treated her with less respect than a town whore. Addie was the most forgiving and compassionate person he'd ever met. And the most stubborn.

Josh knew he wasn't good enough to shine the woman's shoes, but he found himself time and again wondering what it would be like if she were really his wife. If Sarah had been stronger…. If Sarah had been more like Addie…. But all the ifs in the world wouldn't change the past. Or him. He was a selfish man wanting to fulfill his dream of becoming a rancher and horse breeder no matter the cost. And he'd let Sarah pay the price.
Never again
.

Josh stopped at each wagon in turn. Thankfully, no more cases of cholera had surfaced since the morning. The Adams' wagon was the last in line before Jimmy's. Mr. Adams squatted next to a pile of kindling, starting a fire. The man raised a turbulent gaze to Josh. Worry and sadness filled eyes red from lack of sleep. He just shook his head, telling Josh without words that the fate of his son was still in question. Josh placed his hand on the man's shoulder to offer what support he could. Neither of them spoke, and Josh continued to Jimmy's wagon to get something to eat.

As Josh finished a meal of venison and beans, a movement near the Adams' wagon caught his attention. Addie climbed from the back of the wagon. Even from this distance he saw the dark circles beneath her eyes. She took a few steps, but she appeared lost, confused. Josh stood, watching her closely.

Pale and drawn, she held her hands against her stomach as if in pain. Could she be sick too?
God, no!
He took a few steps in her direction, fear clenching his gut. She stumbled and fell to her knees.

He was at her side instantly, his heart racing, a little voice shouting at him not to panic while another screamed in fear. He dropped to the ground next to her. “Addie, what's wrong?”

The sob that tore from her almost undid him. “He's gone,” she answered in a shaky voice, no more than a whisper. “He was just a baby.”

Josh drew her into his arms, holding her against his chest. Sorrow at the loss of the child did not compare to the relief. Addie wasn't in danger of meeting the same fate. “It's all right, darlin'.”

She wept quietly against his chest. “I couldn't save him. I tried but….” She hiccoughed through her tears. “He was just a
baby
.”

He stroked her hair and rocked her. “You did everything you could, Addie. It was God's will.”

She cried and clung to him. Her anguish stabbed him like a rusty dagger, each whimper, every sob another twist of its jagged blade. He lifted his gaze to find Jimmy watching them. Josh waved for him to come closer. The old cook moved quickly and stood before him, his wrinkled face a mask of concern and sympathy. “Tell the others we go no further today. We'll have the funeral tonight.”

Without waiting for an answer, Josh slipped his hands beneath Addie and carried the heartbroken woman to her wagon. He felt the gaze of everyone on the trail following him, but he ignored their unspoken questions. When he reached her wagon, he shifted her in his arms to pull the steps down. He climbed the ladder and ducked beneath the canvas.

There was no need to light a lamp. The midday sun filtered through the canvas cover, illuminating the inside in soft light. Josh settled Addie on her bed and bent to remove her boots. She sat motionless, tears streaming down her face. He pulled the second boot from her foot and felt her shiver. Of course she was cold, he thought irritably. She left the Adams' wagon without her shawl. He shrugged out of his vest, removed his hat, and shed his boots. Gently, he pushed her shoulders back while he lifted her legs, encouraging her to lie on the bed.

He stretched out next to her, and she moved into his arms, laid her head on his chest, and curled one leg over his. Her knee rested across his hip and thigh, and he cursed himself a lecherous swine for his body's reaction to her. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “It's all right, darlin'. Everything will be all right.”

Her body shuddered as she sighed and snuggled closer to him. Within moments, she breathed deeply, evenly. She'd fallen asleep. Rest was no doubt the best thing for her. There had been damn little of it for her the past few days. He should cover her and leave, but he couldn't bear to let go of her. Even in sleep, her hand clung to his shirt, as if holding on to him for dear life.

He closed his eyes and tried to rest. Unfortunately, the stirrings of his lustful body were difficult to calm with the soft, feminine body wrapped across him. He'd been too long without a woman. That must be the problem.
Hell and damnation! I'm only fooling myself.
The truth was that no woman had ever affected him like this. Not even Sarah.

A little more than an hour had passed before she stirred. He remained still, thinking she'd go back to sleep, but her hand moved to the buttons on his shirt. She unfastened one, then another button, and his breath caught. Her hand slipped beneath his shirt and set his skin afire with just a touch. It rested against him, unmoving.

And it drove him mad with the need to touch her.

Josh ground his teeth together. He couldn't do this. He just wasn't strong enough to resist the animal need building inside him. He'd have to leave. He slipped from the bed and reached for his boots.

“Wait. Please.” She grabbed his hand and held it.

“Addie—”

“I'm sorry, Joshua. I didn't mean to…I just needed to feel your warmth, your heartbeat. I think something inside me….” She paused, visibly fighting to hold back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks again. “I feel like something inside me died with that little boy. You feel so alive. I didn't mean to throw myself at you again like some wanton.”

Surprise filled him, but anger soon followed. He clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her. “You're no wanton, Addie. And as much as I might have wished it, you've never thrown yourself at me. You've done nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you leaving? Please don't leave me alone, Joshua. I….” Her blue gaze fell away. She'd never asked him for help before. Hell, the stubborn, independent woman probably had never asked anyone for help before.

“Darlin', I want to help you, but I—”

“Then stay with me. Hold me.” She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist.

His gut cinched, and his body instantly hardened. She asked the impossible. His anger simmered, but it was now directed at himself for finding it so difficult to do the right thing. “I can't stay without touching you, Addie. I won't use you like that.”

She pulled away to look up into his face. Her eyes held no secrets. He saw uncertainty and perhaps a bit of guilt there. “Oh, Joshua. Don't you see? I'm the one using you. I know you don't want a wife, but still I want you to hold me. Your kisses make me feel so alive. I
need
to feel alive.”

His anger fueled his lust and fought to erode his good intentions. He wanted to help her, but who would save her from him? Struggling to calm his breathing, he shook his head. “A kiss won't be enough for me. You don't understand how bad I want you, darlin'.”

Addie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down. She whispered against his lips, “Show me.”