by Rita Hestand
"Aw…honey!" Wilma shook her head. "You've got to tell him how you feel."
"I can't. I don't want to hurt him, Wilma. He's a good man, and he'll find someone better than me, more suited, I'm sure. I will say he has an uncanny way of making me laugh, and I've been lacking laughter in my life for a very long time."
"Oh dear…" Wilma whispered as though to herself. "You've got to tell him…"
But Millie didn't hear and she had walked away from the conversation.
Finally, when she came back around and got her a plate of stew she sat beside Wilma. She went to sit on the bench Wilma had brought from her last home. "It'll be alright now."
"Millie, do you believe in God?"
Millie thought about it a long time. She'd asked herself that a lot lately. "My parents were God fearing people Wilma. I wasn't brought up in church, but they were God fearing people. I don't know, when I first went off to school I was so scared, and I prayed for God to help me see it through. But…I was so lonely, and a little miserable. I guess I thought God forgot about me. And now, where I'm headed, I sometimes wonder about it all. Surely God wouldn't want this for me, but how else am I going to repay my folks for all they did for me, for their sacrifices? They didn't do this for the boys, Wilma, they did it for me! So I'm the one that owes them."
"Millie, Millie," Wilma shook her head. "You've obviously never been a parent."
"What do you mean? Of course I haven't."
"If you had, you'd know that you don't owe your folks one thing. You see, when a parent gives to their children, it's because they love them. They want the best for their children. All parents want that, at least all I know. And God thinks of you as his child, and as such, he wants the best for you too. And the best is not Matt Hudson. We both know that. Sometimes when we act or do things on our own, God isn't too pleased."
Millie thought on this a while. "Then why hasn't he stopped me. Why hasn't he done something to save the farm…why has he left it up to me, to do?"
"He hasn't. You have. You see, although you believe there is a God, you simply have no faith in him. You don't think he can do it. You think only you can do it. Maybe that comes from being a doctor, and educated, I don't know, but if you leave it to God, he'll take care of it."
"How's he gonna do it?" Millie cried.
"In his own way, in his own time, Millie. But you have to believe in him enough to know he'll take care of things for you. Faith is believing. Quit your worrying, fretting and let God take care of Matt Hudson. When you trust in God, it'll all work out."
"Boy who's been preaching to you?" Millie pouted.
"Nobody actually. I'm just a firm bible reader myself and I know these things, because I study the word all the time. You've seen me, I sit right there in that rocker every night and read the bible."
Millie nodded, "Yeah, I've seen you."
Frowning Millie thought about what she'd said. "How do I learn to have faith…?"
"Well for one thing, you let it all go, and let him take over for a change. You don't try to fix everything. That's a very bad flaw you have Millie. Trying to fix things. That's his job, and what's wrong is you are trying to do his job. When you turn it over to him, things will straighten out."
Millie wondered about that for a long time. Could it be that simple?
She wished she could talk to Joe, be with him, she wished she was free to love him. Because from the hurt inside her, she knew she did love him. His rejection hit her hard and it was all she could do to look him in the eye any longer. Wilma was upset with her. The better she tried to do, the worse things got.
Life seemed so simple with other people. They went about doing as they pleased, happy. Why couldn't she?
And yet she knew, she had forced this life sentence on herself, thinking it the only answer. Was there another?
Chapter Eleven
Before they left Ft. Kearney Joe went into the officer's quarters. She didn't know what he was doing, but he came out with a frown.
As they pushed onward past the fort and Dobytown, the weather began to heat up and wagon troubles from the other train caused delays. A.J. clearly didn't run his train the same way Mills ran his. A.J. believed in taking care of up keep. Wheels had to be regularly greased and maintenance on equipment seen to, or there were breakdowns. Mills obviously didn't insist on preventative maintenance.
Because of the weather, and crossing rivers and the environment it was very important to check equipment. Harnesses had to be checked, wheels tended, and the animals themselves sometimes needed extra care on such a long journey. A.J. knew this and his trains usually ran without much problem. But Mills just wanted to get through with as little fuss as possible. A. J. was frustrated with the man. Frustration along with a too hot spring didn't add up to anything good right now. Tempers flared from time to time.
"Joe I want you to run ahead and check some of the watering places. The women find it impossible to bath in the Platte. Some creeks along the way would be good. There've been a lot of trains through here, and it's exceptionally hot. We don't want to run out of drinking water. I'm afraid I'm going to have to talk to them about Cholera too. I'd rather be safe than sorry."
Joe nodded and took off.
Three days later, Joe came back with a map of the watering holes and gave it to A.J.
They spent a whole day camped because of a busted wheel. It was the Sutton's wagon, part of the Mills group. A.J. and the others were busy all day working on it. Apparently the other wagon train was not in as good a shape as A.J.'s, as there were numerous little problems to begin with.
They camped close to a creek one afternoon and a lot of the ladies took a bath, Millie included. The water was chilly, but refreshing.
Millie looked up once and spotted Joe staring out after her. Their eyes met and after a long while, he moved on.
Wilma seemed to content herself with reading, and Millie went to get some water. Another woman was at the small creek, but as she bent over to get her water, she keeled over.
Millie ran to her. She was burning up with fever.
Millie yelled for help, but no one heard her cries.
She ran back to camp.
Joe saw her running and ran over, "Something wrong?" He asked in his usual gruff manner.
"One of the women from the other train, she's sick, I can't carry her…"
Joe nodded, "Let's go."
As they reached the creek Joe found the woman lying beside the creek bed.
"What's wrong with her?" He asked Millie.
"I'm not sure. We need to get her in her wagon and probably isolate her from everyone else until I can examine her." She carried the woman's pail of water as Joe carried the woman back to camp.
Millie went inside the wagon with the lady. "Please keep everyone away as much as you can until I figure out what is wrong with her."
"Sure." He muttered thickly and left.
Millie made a thorough examination of the woman, but she didn't speak English so Millie could not communicate with her. Instead she sat and dabbed her with a cool cloth and held her hand. She washed her down with cool water for several hours. When she came out Millie saw several people standing about. Joe was there and she walked over to him.
"What's the verdict doc?" He asked, keeping it as impersonal as he possibly could. Millie realized that by calling her 'doc', it took the personal side out of the conversation. Perhaps that was as it should be she thought silently.
"Maybe we should talk over there," she motioned to get away from the small crowd.
Joe studied her a moment as he followed her, "Must be pretty serious." He put his thumbs in his gun belt.
"It may be, I'm not sure yet. She has no lesions yet so I can't be for certain whether it's chicken pox, or… small-pox." she whispered the last word cautiously.
She watched his expression as she said the word. He went pale.
Joe closed his eyes, "When will you know?" Just the way he said that told her he knew how serious it might be.
"It could take up to a day…if it's chicken pox the spots will come soon and be over in a few days. If it's not…we will have a major problem. She has to be kept isolated no matter what. Even if it's chicken-pox because either is catching." Millie explained. "Children especially get chicken-pox easily. And I certainly don't want an epidemic of it."
"All right. This is gonna throw a panic into some. For now, what should I tell them." Joe asked. His eyes went over her thoroughly as he spoke.
"I realize that." She seemed to study the situation a moment. "Look, for now, tell them she has a fever and I'm watching her. I'll know by tomorrow if it's chicken-pox." Millie assured him. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you more right now but until she has lesions it is hard to tell which she might have, but I'm almost certain it is a pox."
He looked at her closely, "It's not your fault. The woman is Polish. Maybe she was exposed by someone she knew."
"That's why I couldn't talk to her. Can anyone on the train communicate with her?"
"I don't know, but I will find out for you."
"I'd appreciate it, she acts so afraid, I'd like to relieve her mind if I could. Part of getting well is keeping the patient in a positive frame of mind."
"Yeah, I'll get word to A.J. and the others. We'll probably have the other wagons go on ahead if it's small pox." He told her.
"That might be best. Even if it's chicken-pox, we don't want it spread, and children are very receptive to it. I'd have a lot on my hands if all those children came down with chicken-pox. So it is best to keep her away from everyone, and find out how many she's been in contact with and let me know. If it's small pox, you might have to send the other wagons on and leave me and her here, she'll need attention and we don't want the others coming down with it, but it could mean culling out any wagons that have been in contact with her."
He nodded. "I'll get back to you. Hey, they got another doctor on board the other train, but he is not very dependable I'm told, he likes to drink. Do you want me to call him?"
She ran a tired hand to the back of her neck and told him, "I'd rather not have to deal with that right now. Let's hope it's chicken-pox. For all our sakes."
"Yeah, I'll say. Well if you need anything let me know." He smiled at her for the first time and it went straight to her heart. "Guess I better be getting to it then. See you."
She nodded. "Say, I'd appreciate it if you could come by in the morning sometime so I can give you some idea of what we are dealing with."
He cast a glance over his shoulder, his eyes going slowly over her, "I'll do that. You all right?"
"Just tired…but I'm fine." She smiled at him and his expression went all over her.
She went back to the wagon and sat down beside the woman. Her fever had calmed that was good but she caught her rubbing her arms and legs, they must ache. She had all the pox symptoms but Millie said a silent prayer that it was chicken-pox. Chicken-pox could be harder on an adult and she was having a lot of symptoms. If it was small pox, they would all be in for a time though. And she'd be here for a long while.
Wilma came to the wagon and opened the back flap, "Can I talk with you a minute?"
"Sure, I'll come out though." Millie glanced around and saw that everyone was gone that had been standing around, evidently Joe had informed them as he said he would. "What's up?"
"What's wrong with her?" Wilma asked her face full of worry lines.
Millie pulled Wilma to the other side of the wagon. "If I tell you, you've got to keep it quiet."
"All right. I can respect that." Wilma's face held alarm.
"It's either chicken-pox or small-pox." She whispered.
"Oh good Lord. When will you know for sure which?"
"By tomorrow maybe sooner. I don't know how long she's had the fever."
"Can I be of help?"
"I'd rather you stay at your wagon; I don't want you coming down sick." Millie informed her.
"I've had the chicken-pox, so if that is what it is I can help."
"Yes, but I'm not sure what it is yet. And I won't chance you coming down with small-pox." She insisted.
"Can I do anything for you?"
"Say a prayer that it is chicken-pox." She smiled at her.
"I can do that, too!" Wilma smiled. "Let me know if you need anything."
"I will, I promise…Oh, and please try to keep the children away from this wagon, even if it's chicken pox we don't want an epidemic of it." She kissed her on the forehead and went back inside.
Joe showed up that afternoon with a man who could speak the woman's language.
The man translated to the woman that she had a fever and the doc was watching her to make sure she didn't break out in a rash. Millie insisted on not telling her yet what she suspicioned.
"Why not?" Joe asked as they stepped outside and the man talked with her.
"Because at this point there is no use scaring her. If it is the small pox, then he can tell her later, if it's chicken-pox he can tell her very soon and relieve her mind, but not knowing which, I don't want to frighten her. And…even though chicken-pox is much milder, it can be rough on an adult." Millie explained.
Joe nodded. "Sounds reasonable. A.J. is pretty upset with picking up all these problems so soon from the new train."
"I can imagine. I like A.J. he runs a tight train but times like these you can appreciate that."
He looked at her seriously now, "If it is small-pox, can you save her?"
"I don't know," She folded her hand. "Naturally, I'll do what I can to save her. A lot depends on her constitution. If she's strong, she might survive it. But since I don't know her or her history it's hard to tell. The biggest problem is isolation. If it's small-pox, her wagon will have to stay behind. If it's chicken-pox it won't last long and it's important that we keep the children away as much as possible. Does she have family on this train, do you know?"
"I don't know. I'll get A.J. to find out, though."
"Good. Thanks for all your help." She smiled.
He winked and left.
Millie stayed the entire night in the wagon, the woman had calmed down since the man had come to explain things to her, he told her he'd return as soon as the doctor called for him.
Now the woman held Millie's hand softly, her face carried less stress. Millie felt better for her, but knowing the dangers, she wasn't going to think about what might lay ahead. No use borrowing troubles.
Funny, but even her plans had been changed. Yesterday she had thought the biggest problem was marrying Matt Hudson.
But with this kind of threat hanging over the train, what would tomorrow bring?
Small Pox would be a disaster.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning Joe came by, and found Millie asleep at the edge of the wagon, as he opened the flap to tell her he was back and obviously saw her slumbering against the back of the wagon. He stared a long time before he said a word.
To open her eyes and see him first thing in the morning was a real treat. She was still groggy but she took him all in. From his sweat band hat, to his chaps. He was all cowboy and handsome as could be. It didn't matter what he wore, it sent such a thrill through her just to look into those dark blue eyes. "Morning…" she said softly.
"Hey sleepyhead…what's the word?"
Millie roused slowly, with a crick in her neck. She rubbed it as she climbed out of the wagon.
"Crick?" he asked her.
"Yeah…" she mumbled. Trying to move her head, she found it quite painful. "Sure wish I had some coffee, I'm a bear in the mornings until I've had my coffee."
"Turn around," He ordered her.
"What…"
He turned her around and put his hands on her neck, gently massaging her there. She couldn't stifle the moan, "Oh that feels so good…where did you learn to do that?"
"You wouldn't want to know." He chuckled.
He smiled and she turned around to see it.
"So, you know anything yet?"
"Yes, it's
chicken-pox. She broke out early this morning."
"Well, that's good news." He said relief flooding his face.
"For everyone but the children. So this wagon needs to stay in the rear, so there is less exposure. I don't want to treat a whole train full of kids with the pox." She sighed.
"Will do. Do you need anything?" He asked.
She looked at him and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she could sure use one of his super warm and friendly kisses, but she didn't. "No, there's not much I can do, but…oh…send that man back here. I need to give her a solution to dab onto her lesions to keep the itch down. So he'll need to translate again. And to tell her not to scratch it. Oh, and I could use some oatmeal."
"To eat?"
"No, you take a bath in oatmeal to relieve the itching. It's an old tried and true remedy for the itch." She smiled.
"All right, and I'll send Eryk, see ya."
She watched him walk away, noting the easy swagger he had when he walked. She'd never paid any attention to a man's walk before, but there was something very appealing about his walk. He sorta ambled.
"Yeah, see ya." She sighed wishing he'd stay longer, but knowing he had work to do too.
Wilma brought some coffee over and smiled when she saw her. "Coffee?"
"Oh, you're an angel. Thank you, how did you know?"
"Are you kidding, I've been riding with you a while. Coffee is the one thing that makes you human." She chuckled.
"You're right."
"Actually, Joe sent me over with it. Told me the good news too."
"Yeah, as long as we keep the children from getting it, everything will be fine." Millie told her.
"Joe already told me he was gonna make sure you drag up behind us all." Wilma watched her reaction.
"Believe me, I don't mind. The last thing I need is twenty or thirty kids getting the pox at the same time. What a mess that would be."
Wilma chuckled.
"How is she this morning."
Millie took her hand, "Come see for yourself."