Wagonmaster (8 page)

Read Wagonmaster Online

Authors: Nita Wick

Mrs. Wheeler stepped forward. “I'll take care of her. She taught me how when the children were sick.”

Josh wanted to accept her offer immediately, but he looked at Elias and his two younger sisters standing next to their father. “Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler, but your children need you. Your husband can't drive the wagon and care for them too.”

“The children can ride with us.” This came from Mrs. Cooper. She had two children of her own, one boy and one girl about the same age as the Wheeler children. “Mine will be happy for the company.”

Mr. Wheeler nodded. “It's settled. Come, Helen. You'll need to hurry and eat some breakfast so you can see to Mrs. Reynolds.”

Elias gazed up at his mother, his face beaming. The boy took her hand and turned toward their wagon. The fear and worry evident in the boy's features disappeared. Josh wished his concerns could be eased so easily.

Chapter Eleven

“Wake up, sweetheart.” Josh carefully shifted Addie so that her head and shoulders were elevated. She lay still and pale except for the angry red spots on her cheeks proving her fever hadn't lessened.

“Joshua, you're making me dizzy.” He could hardly make out her words. Slurred words accompanied a weak voice.

“Sorry, but you need to sit up so you can drink the medicine.” He kept his voice gentle as he settled her against the pillow and arranged the blankets, tucking them around her. Pressing the cup against her lips, he ordered, “Drink.”

She parted her lips, allowing him to tip the cup and pour a small amount of liquid into her mouth. Her face drew up in a grimace, and she turned her head away. “Ugh. That's dreadful.” Dull and cloudy, her eyes lacked the ever-present sparkle he'd found so irresistible. “What is it?”

“Water with salt and molasses.”

“Eewe.” Soft and weak, her voice pained him.

“The molasses will work, won't it?” It had to work.

With a heavy sigh, she answered in a whisper, “I suppose.” Her brows drew together. “I don't even remember now why the sugar is needed. Tears and sweat are salty, so to replace the body's fluid, the salt should help. But the sugar….” She closed her eyes again. “I know it's needed, but I can't....” She dozed.

The light in the wagon brightened as Mrs. Wheeler entered. She pulled off her shawl and bonnet. “How is she?”

He shook his head. “Weak. And she's having trouble stayin' awake.”

“She has to sip a whole cup of the medicine. Then she can sleep for half an hour before she drinks another. That's how she treated the children.”

Josh nodded. “Addie? Darlin', you need to drink some more.” He pressed the cup against her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't open her mouth. Stroking her hair with his free hand, he tried again, speaking louder this time. “Drink, Addie.”

Her lips parted, and she drank another sip, grimacing again, but she didn't speak. Mrs. Wheeler stood next to him, watching. She chuckled softly. “She doesn't like the molasses.”

Grateful for the woman's pleasant manner, he tried to smile. “No. She doesn't.”

“Well, you just leave her to me, Mr. Reynolds. I'll see that she drinks it.” Josh stood and handed her the cup. She took it and looked at him with motherly concern although she couldn't have been any older than his twenty-seven years. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Her question surprised him. “I…no. I was plannin' to eat with my wife this mornin', but she….”

“You should eat. She's going to need you to stay strong.”

Josh nodded. He wasn't hungry, but he should probably eat something. He glanced back at Addie, her sickly pallor hiding the vibrant woman she truly was. His gut clenched. Maybe he'd just get some coffee.

“Don't you worry none. I'll take good care of her.” She pulled the chair over next to the bed and sat down. “She saved my babies. I'd do anything for your wife, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. I'm goin' to get the oxen hitched up. We'll be leavin' soon.”

She nodded, but said nothing. She put her hand behind Addie's head, lifting it gently. Pressing the cup against her lips, she spoke softly. “Drink some more now, Mrs. Reynolds.”

He couldn't watch any longer. Seeing Addie like this was more than he could stomach. She was too strong, too full of life to look so helpless and weak.

* * * *

Two hours later, Josh sat in the wagon seat, staring out across the prairie. The mountains in the distance no longer seemed so far away. Another day, maybe two, and they'd reach the river and fresh water. And they'd rest. He'd keep the train there until everyone was healthy again. Especially Addie.

Josh had heard Mrs. Wheeler's voice several times in the last few hours. He hadn't been able to make out her words, but she'd obviously been coaxing Addie to drink more of the medicine. If Addie had responded to Mrs. Wheeler, he hadn't heard her. Either her voice was too soft to carry to him, or she was too weak to talk at all. His empty stomach roiled against the idea that she might not live.

How could this be happening again? He'd lived through the death of one wife. Once was more than enough. And why did he think of Addie as his wife? She'd made it plain that this marriage was in name only.

But it isn't
, a little voice argued.
Not anymore
. Did she still plan to end the marriage? If she had any sense at all, she would divorce him as soon as they arrived in Baker City. He didn't deserve her. He wasn't nearly good enough for a woman like Addie. But damn if she didn't make him want to be.

All this arguing with himself over it could well be useless anyway.
She has cholera. She could die. Like Sarah.

Josh shook his head and did the only thing he could do. He prayed. Searching the blue skies above, he spoke quietly, his voice no more than a whisper. “God, I know You haven't heard from me in a while, but please listen. Whatever I've done…whatever I did to deserve this, don't take it out on Addie. She's a good woman. She's got a heart of gold, Lord. She doesn't deserve this. Please....”

He wasn't certain what else to say. It probably wouldn't do any good anyhow. God had never seemed to listen to his prayers before. He just hoped, for Addie's sake, He'd make an exception this time.

The morning passed slowly. Worry was something Josh found unfamiliar, and it was taking its toll. Tense shoulders supported an aching head with a persistent throb at his temples. With the sun directly overhead, he stopped the wagon and set the brake. He turned and did what he'd refused to do all morning. He lifted the canvas that covered the opening behind him. Peering into wagon, he saw Addie on the bed below him. She lay motionless, still pale and helpless. He swallowed and tried without success to dislodge the lump in his throat.

“She just finished drinking another cup. Now she can sleep for a little while.” Mrs. Wheeler offered him a small smile.

“We're stoppin' for lunch. You should go to your family. Thank you for staying with her this mornin'.”

She stood and stretched. “I'll be back when it's time to leave.”

He nodded, but his gaze had already returned to the woman on the bed. His breath stalled while he waited to see her chest rise and fall. After a moment he saw it, but her shallow breath hardly moved the heavy quilt covering her.

“She'll be fine for a half hour or more, Mr. Reynolds.” Mrs. Wheeler had wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and was about to leave. “You should get something to eat.”

Josh nodded again and let the canvas fall. He climbed down from the wagon seat, his body protesting having been in the same position for so long. His head still ached, and the pain in his neck and shoulders was steadily growing. He looked toward the other wagons. Many were still arriving at their resting spot. Jimmy's wagon, the last one, lumbered toward them in the distance. It would be a while before he had a meal prepared.

It was just as well. Josh needed to check with the other wagons to be sure everything was all right. He usually did this throughout the day, riding his horse between wagons and searching the area for hostile activity, human or otherwise. But he couldn't do that while driving a wagon.

Jimmy would have plenty of time to fix some vittles while he patrolled the area. He hadn't eaten any breakfast, but his stomach still churned at the thought of food. It crossed his mind that he might be getting sick. Headache, lack of appetite, both could be early symptoms. God, that was the last thing he needed right now.

He shook his head. No. Worry and a sleepless night caused this. He'd tossed and turned, thinking of how he'd rather be making love to Addie.
Damn!
He'd thought he was doing the right thing, letting her sleep. But if he'd stayed with her, he could have helped her sooner. Spitting out a curse, he headed toward the next wagon. Why did he always seem to make the wrong decision where women were concerned?

Josh walked quickly to each wagon, checking with the families. Thankfully, no one reported any problems. At his wagon, Jimmy was just getting settled and starting a campfire.

“I'm goin' to make the rounds, Jimmy. I'll be back to eat in a while.”

Jimmy nodded. “How's the missus?”

Josh almost stumbled. “She's….” He had to stop and clear his throat. “She still has a fever, but she's drinkin' the medicine. She's not any better, but I don't reckon she's any worse.”

“Don't worry, boss. She'll be fine. She's a strong one, that woman of yours.” Jimmy returned to his work starting the fire.

He stared at Jimmy. His cook was the only one Josh had told that the marriage was a sham, a ruse to make the rest of the train accept Addie. So why was he calling her his woman? Josh almost asked him, but he realized the truth. Addie
was
his woman, his wife. At least for now. Tugging his hat down further over his eyes, he looked back toward Addie's wagon. His gut clenched again. A part of him wanted to stake his claim and keep her. But he knew it would never happen. Adelaide Jennings deserved a good husband. He'd already proven he couldn't handle that job.

He jammed his hands into his coat pockets and found his gloves. The wind had picked up, making the cold air bite into any exposed skin. He spun on his heel and walked the few short steps to the end of the wagon. Two men rode up as he pulled his saddle out.

“We'll check the area, Reynolds.” Mr. Cooper didn't ask permission. He simply stated their intent.

Mr. Fleming nodded. “Get some grub and see to your wife.”

They tugged the reins of their horses and left without another word. For a moment, Josh watched them ride away but turned his attention to the saddle he still held. Mumbling a curse, he shoved the saddle back into the wagon. He sighed. Why did he suddenly feel so blasted useless? He walked back over to Jimmy.

“Coffee will be ready in a minute.” Jimmy seemed unsurprised that Josh had returned.

Josh narrowed his eyes. “You put 'em up to it?”

“Nope.”

He waited, but his grizzly old cook refused to elaborate. Josh took off his gloves to warm his hands over the fire.

* * * *

Josh climbed into Addie's wagon. He'd been gone less than half an hour. It appeared she hadn't moved at all. Fear snaked through him. Wooden legs carried him toward the bed. He watched her chest for the telltale rise and fall. His own breath seized in his chest as if he could not breathe unless she did.

There. The covers rose. Gritting his teeth, he rebuked himself for doubting it. He slipped off his coat and hat and tossed them atop the trunk in the corner. Grabbing the pitcher with the medicine, he poured another cupful and sat in the chair next to the bed where Mrs. Wheeler had spent the morning.

He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. Still hot with fever, she stirred at his touch, and her eyelids fluttered open. “Time for more medicine, darlin'.”

Her button nose wrinkled. “That stuff is awful.” Still weak and low, her voice sounded only a little stronger than it had this morning.

He grinned. “I made it myself.”

Her lips curled in a small smile. “Hmph.”

“Come on now.” He placed his hand behind her head and elevated it while he pressed the cup to her lips. She drank several swallows and turned her head to stop.

Josh took the cup away. “Are you feelin' any better?”

Her eyes closed for a brief moment. “I don't think so.” She opened them again. “But I'm not any worse. That's a good sign.”

He nodded. “Take another drink.”

She obeyed without complaint. He took the cup away, and she whispered softly, “Joshua, if I don't get better—”

Not wanting to hear any more, he cut her off. “Don't talk like that. You'll get better.”

She sighed. “Please listen.”

His jaw clenched. “Addie, you're goin' to be fine. I don't want you thinkin' any other way.”

“I'm not any worse, so chances are good that I'll recover. But I need you to listen. If something happens to me before we reach Baker City….” She paused to take a breath. Talking apparently drained what little strength she had. “Will you tell my father that I love him?”

“You'll tell him yourself.” He didn't want to think about any other possibility. How could he go to her father and tell him that his daughter had died?

“Promise me, Joshua Reynolds, or I swear I'll haunt you for the rest of your days.” Her voice was hardly a whisper now, but her full lips curved in a smile.

Josh chuckled. “You'd do it, too, wouldn't you?”

“And enjoy every minute of it.”

He nodded. Recalling the promise she wanted him to make, his smile died. I'd rather you tell him yourself, but if you can't, I will.” Josh didn't want to talk about this. A change of subject was needed. “Drink some more.” He lifted her head again, holding the cup to her lips.

She drank the rest and spoke again. “Thank you.”

He raised his brows. “I thought you didn't like the medicine.”

A soft laugh shook her. “For the promise, Joshua.”

He couldn't say anything, couldn't stand the thought that she might die. He put the cup on the table and pulled the blankets up to cover her shoulders. “Now you can sleep for a while.”

“You know, I really don't want to die yet.” A lump formed in his throat as she spoke. “I try never to let myself have regrets. And if I died today, I'd have regrets.”

Her statement surprised him and compelled him to ask, “What regrets, darlin'?”

“First….” She licked her lips. Heavy eyelids confirmed her lack of strength. “I'd regret not seeing my father again.” She closed her eyes, her voice fading. He leaned forward to hear her better. “And second, I'd regret not being able to make love with you again. Once was not enough.”

Other books

Wushu Were Here by Jon Scieszka
Some Like It Hot by Zoey Dean
Dead End Job by Ingrid Reinke
Pattern Recognition by William Gibson
How to Score by Robin Wells