Keeping Faith. Hannah Alexander
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If you’d rather I call Heidi to come—”
“No.” He tugged out the left side of his formerly blue plaid shirt, which was now thick with drying mud. He could already feel his face flushing.
Victoria busied herself soaking another cloth, then visibly winced at the sight of Joseph’s bruised and scraped ribs. She pressed the cloth against them. “They must hurt a great deal.”
He gritted his teeth against the sting of the whiskey. “To be honest, I haven’t had time to think about it.” Until now. He’d been too distracted by Victoria’s bracing presence and the shock of her news.
“I gathered some wild onions yesterday,” she said. “I know it isn’t the science I’ve learned under Matthew’s tutelage, but I learned a lot from a tribe of Cherokee who lived near us when I was growing up. If you would allow me to make a poultice—”
“I would be grateful.”
“Good. It’ll take the soreness out much more quickly.” She dabbed again at his ribs until the mud that had leaked through his shirt had been cleaned away. She had the most gentle touch, and a caring spirit with a strong thread of heroism that he admired.
“I’m frustrated by the hard rains,” she said as she wrapped a long cloth around his rib cage and fastened it to itself with a knot, deftly woven. “It would have removed any tracks we might have used to warn us.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t track this man.” He knew she probably wouldn’t listen. “You can tell McDonald what to look for. And Reich. In fact, I’d prefer anyone else in the wagon train be on the lookout for the tracks, just not you.”
She tugged his shirt back down. “Come with me and we can get the onions. I can pound them and then slide them beneath the cloth. It’s true we’d best not start tongues wagging. If we stay closer to camp everyone will realize I’m simply treating a wound.”
He suspected she was using his wound and the onion poultice as a ruse to prevent him from pressing her further about her tracking plans.
She turned and gathered up her bag and supplies. “Speaking of camp, Joseph, despite all we’ve tried to do, some of our people may have contracted cholera. I wish to play it safe and separate those who were in the water from the rest of the travelers for a couple of days.”
“That means you and Heidi will have to remain separate from her mother and brother,” he said. “She won’t like that.”
“She’ll do as I ask,” Victoria said. “She can ride her mule and camp with the Reichs until we know for sure our friends are out of danger. I will stay behind the train with the patients and keep watch over them.”
“Placing yourself in harm’s way.” He fell into step beside her.
“Believe me, Joseph, I know how to avoid illness. I’ve done well for ten years. This may be all for nothing, but the moment I see signs of illness I’ll be able to start treatment immediately. We have seven who were in the water.” She stopped and turned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You were telling me the truth earlier about not swallowing the water? You didn’t inhale any, obviously, or you’d have choked.”
“I was telling you the truth. I’d like for you to make a drawing for me of the track you’ve been searching for. I want to show the adults so all can be on the lookout for it, just in case.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think you’ll start a panic?”
“These people know how dangerous this trip could be. They don’t panic easily.”
“True.” She continued ahead of him and stepped from the shadows of the forest into the churned mud of the trail. The dried mud had begun to cake and fall in clods from her dress. Her hair had all but fallen from its binding, and he could do nothing but stare at her; to him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and always would be.
“I need to have Heidi collect some rabbit-ear leaves to go with the onion compress,” she said as she crossed the trail. “I’ll use some of the tea bags we just filled to make a batch of comfrey and chamomile tea for everyone, including you.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’re going to be sore if we don’t get those ribs taken care of, and that won’t help when you’re on horseback.”
He caught up with her to steady her in case she slipped. “I’ll do whatever you say, Doc. You obviously know what you’re doing.”
Her steps slowed and she looked up at him, her blue eyes glowing with gentle appraisal. “Why, thank you, Captain Rickard.”
Welcoming the warmth in her voice and eyes, he took her arm. “I don’t recall Matthew using the plants you’ve been utilizing on this trip.”
She shook her head. “As I said, I learned a lot from the Cherokee back East.”
“Did that ever cause discord between you and Matthew?” As soon as he asked, Joseph knew he was being too intrusive. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if Victoria’s natural skill and unique intelligence had ever caused her difficulty in her marriage. Most men were too proud to walk in the shadow of a wife with superior talents, and Joseph had to admit to himself that he had a selfish reason for the question.
Joseph’s old friend had never seemed to hold grudges or experience the typical human emotions others grappled with—such as the jealousy Joseph had fought within himself for ten years.
“At first,” Victoria said. “He even tried to order me not to use them on the women who came to me.”
Joseph chuckled. “I’m sure he learned his lesson quickly enough.”
“He did.” She cast him a mischievous grin. “I eventually managed to teach Matthew a few herbal treatments, and once he realized I knew what I was doing, he swallowed his pride and learned all he could from me.”
“And now you’re teaching Heidi.”
“She seems eager to learn.” Victoria slipped on a muddy rock.
Joseph held her firmly. “You’re good with her and the other children.” He paused, judging to see if his next remark might generate an uncomfortable answer. But he needed to know. “I always thought you would make a wonderful mother.”
She tightened her grip on his arm as she continued to walk toward camp. “I would have loved children.”
They reached camp as Joseph suffered shame for pressing her. “I’m sorry, Victoria.”
She released her grip from his and looked up at him. “You’ve done nothing for which to be sorry, and as for children, I wouldn’t have wanted them to endure what I have, to be in danger. Maybe someday....”
“Captain?” Mrs. Reich called to him from a bonfire the men had built. “You think we’re safe here? Maybe we oughta move farther away from the water.”
“We’ll make camp where we are,” Joseph announced for everyone to hear. “If we don’t have any more rain tonight, the water should be low enough for us to make a safe crossing at dawn, but if we do have rain, we’re high enough up that nothing should touch us.” He looked over his shoulder toward Buster and Gray, where some of the ladies were already sharing blankets and utensils, food and clothing with the Johnstons. At least the young men would be mothered on this trip. Not that being mothered would help them grow up and meet the hardships of life head-on.
Victoria glanced up at him over her shoulder. “You don’t expect more rain?”
He shook his head, and for a moment held her gaze and tried to study the thoughts taking place behind those deep blue eyes. After a few seconds her eyelids fluttered and the shadow of dread lined her face. His stomach grew taut with tension.
He’d seen it twice before—ten years ago, when he received the missive from his family to return to the plantation where his father struggled for his life. He’d also seen that look a month ago in St.