Brides of Banff Springs

by Victoria Chatham

  “Warmer, I think. Her breathing seems to be steadier, too.”

  “Good, that’s real good.” Ryan reached in and laid his hand on Tilly’s cheek. “You did good today. I’m proud of you. Now see if you can get some rest.”

  Rest, thought Tilly. I’ve got a half-dead girl in my arms, it’s snowing like it’s the middle of winter, and he wants me to rest.

  But the day had taken its toll and before long she drifted into sleep.

  Chapter Twenty One

  When Tilly awoke, she lay for a time with her eyes still closed. If anyone had ever told her she would sleep so well on a bed of fir boughs and blankets, she would not have believed them.

  But something had changed. Burma’s breathing was slow and steady, that of deep sleep rather than her previous unconscious state. The shape at her back was different, too. Larger, longer, and more solid than Tuff. An arm had been thrown around her waist and the sound of light snoring vibrated in her ear. She wanted to giggle.

  When had Ryan crept into the shelter and laid down with them? She didn’t care. She simply cared that he was there. Despite the circumstances, she suddenly felt at peace.

  “Is there a reason I’m lying naked in your arms?” Burma asked in a cracked, husky voice.

  Tilly’s eyes shot open. She sent up a silent prayer as her heart bumped a thankful beat.

  “I’m saving your life,” she said as calmly as she could. “The least you could do is say ‘thank you’.”

  “Yes, but where are my clothes?”

  Ryan stirred behind Tilly and mumbled, “Glad to hear you two girls seem to be back to normal.”

  “I wouldn’t call this normal.” Burma wriggled and stretched her legs, and then cried out in pain. “Ow, ouch. Oh, my God, what happened to me? And what’s this?”

  With her free hand she felt the make-do bandaging that secured her arm against her body.

  “You were wet and freezing and had a dislocated shoulder when we found you,” Tilly explained. “Ryan said skin-to-skin is the quickest way to warm a cold body.”

  “So why couldn’t I have his skin next to mine?” Burma whined.

  “Because he had to do things I couldn’t,” Tilly said sharply. The thought of Burma and Ryan lying naked together sent a surge of jealousy shooting through her. “Like strip your clothes off and then build that fire.”

  “If my clothes are wet, what am I going to wear? And what’s this?” Burma put her hand up to the bandana on her head.

  “You’re not out of the woods yet, Burma, so keep still,” Tilly advised. “You’ve had a bad crack on the head and might have a concussion. Can you remember what happened?”

  “Right from the beginning, or when I fell?”

  “Just from when you fell will do.” Tilly had no wish at that moment to hear anything other than the facts.

  “I wanted to climb up to the top of the falls. It didn’t seem very far, and I thought it might be easier if I went over the rocks, rather than up the trail. How wrong could I be? They were more slippery than I thought and I got wet, so turned to make my way back and then fell.”

  “You were lucky you didn’t drown,” Ryan said brutally. “What on earth possessed you to hike out here in this weather anyway?”

  “It was lovely when I set out.” Burma’s voice sounded strained. “How was I supposed to know that it would snow?”

  Ryan clambered out of the shelter and stretched before tending the fire. He set another log then turned to the girls. “I’ve sent for reinforcements. Tilly, you get dressed first and then help Burma. I’ll only lend a hand if you need me to.”

  How could he have sent for help? Tilly frowned, but then realized that Tuff had gone. Ryan must have sent the dog back to the barn. She shimmied out of the bedroll, thankful for the heat from the fire radiating over her bare skin. Ryan tactfully turned his back and busied himself with a pot set on stones embedded in the embers at one end of the fire. The aroma of fresh, boiling coffee stirred her senses. She dressed quickly, laced up her boots and crawled out from beneath the shelter.

  Yesterday’s storm had already passed, leaving the sky as sharp and clear a blue as if someone had beaten it clean on river rocks and hung it out to dry. Already, thawing snow dripped off the trees, pattering softly around her. She stretched and thankfully took the coffee Ryan handed her.

  “If you two could stop making eyes at each other, perhaps you could help me.” Burma struggled to sit up and groaned. “Oh, my head. I’m so dizzy and I feel sick.”

  Ryan came to her and supported her back. “That’s because you’re concussed. Just sit still, Burma, and try and catch your breath.”

  Burma closed her eyes and turned her face into Ryan’s chest. As the pain passed she relaxed in his arms, and then asked about her clothes.

  “They aren’t quite dried out yet,” he told her. “I’ve got a dry shirt, pants, and socks right here and you should get into them before the boys arrive.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ll just spring to my feet, shall I?”

  “There’s the girl I know and love.” Tilly smiled, set her mug down and knelt down beside Burma. “Sarcastic as ever.”

  She helped Burma get into Ryan’s shirt, aware that her bound arm would be painful, then helped her stand so that she could step into the pants. Burma swayed as Tilly pulled them up.

  “This is so embarrassing,” Burma whispered.

  “Better be alive and embarrassed than being carted out of here dead.” Tilly finished buttoning the waistband but, as soon as she let go, the pants slipped down to Burma’s knees. She looked up at Burma’s shocked expression and giggled. “You look ridiculous. Hang on, I’ll pull them up again and you’ll have to hang on to them.” She turned to Ryan. “Have you got a belt?”

  “Not a spare, but hang on and I’ll cut a piece of rope.”

  Tilly continued to giggle as she threaded the rope Ryan handed her through the belt loops on the pants and tied it in a firm knot. “There. Your dignity shouldn’t suffer too badly now.”

  “So how are we getting out of here?” Burma asked as Tilly helped her into a dry jacket.

  “You’ll have to ride out from here, but I asked for Billy to bring the wagon as far as he can, so that won’t be too far away.”

  Burma sniffed as she looked at the animals still tethered to the line.

  “I am not riding that mule,” she announced.

  Tilly laughed. “Not good enough for you? Don’t worry, Burma, Molly is my ride. You’ll be riding the pony.”

  “That’s nearly as bad.” Burma continued to grumble as she wiggled her toes into the socks Tilly held for her. “What about—”

  “No.” Ryan stopped her before she could say anymore. “Grulla is my horse and you are not riding him.”

  Tuff’s barking caught their attention and, a moment later, the dog splashed through the creek and ran up to Ryan. He ruffled Tuff’s ears and Tilly cocked her head to one side at the squelching, slopping sound of hooves plowing through the melting snow. She breathed a sigh of relief when Billy and Pete appeared through the trees.

  “Nice camp.” Billy looked around as he drew rein and dismounted. “Too bad we didn’t join the party.”

  “Some party.” Ryan grinned and shook Billy’s hand. “Thanks for coming out. Good to see you too, Pete. Where’d you come from anyway? I thought you were out for another couple of days.”

  Pete nodded. “The weather started to turn, so our guide gave the party the option of staying out or turning back. They wanted to come back. Guess I got in just in the nick of time.”

  “That you did.” Ryan glanced at Burma. Even though she was now on her feet, she was still pale and unsteady. He lowered his voice. “We need to get this gal to the hospital as soon as possible. She’s still suffering from a pretty bad concussion, she dislocated her shoulder, and I’m sure her body temperature is still too low.”

  “Damn, that’s a heap to deal with,” Pete said. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Stay here an
d strike camp. Where did you leave the wagon?”

  Pete hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a flat spot just a couple of hundred yards downstream. We brought horses ‘cause we didn’t know for sure just how far out you all were.”

  Ryan frowned as he planned his next move. “I’ll take the girls to the wagon and get Burma to the hospital. You sent a message to them that we’re bringing her in?”

  “Sure did, boss,” Billy said, “and brought the extra blankets you asked for. That darn dog of yours sure made a ruckus when he turned up at the barn and, I must say, he writes a note almost better’n you do.”

  “Yeah, right.” Ryan laughed. “Okay, we’ll get Burma aboard Cayuse. Pete, ride to the wagon with us and then you can bring Cayuse back here to help carry the gear.”

  Tilly kept Burma out of the way until Cayuse was saddled and ready, but the pain in her shoulder caused her to catch her lip between her teeth. Billy and Ryan waited until the spasm had passed then helped her mount Cayuse. The pony’s ears twitched, but he stayed quite still as she settled herself into the saddle.

  “Now you, Tilly.” Ryan boosted her onto Molly’s back. “Come up close on Burma’s left side so you can support her if you have to, and I’ll lead her.”

  When he mounted Grulla and moved up on Burma’s right side, Tilly saw just how tall the horse was. It was a sorry party that splashed through the creek. Grulla, anxious to go home, tossed his head and Ryan steadied him.

  “Please don’t tell my friends I rode an old pony,” Burma croaked.

  Tilly grinned, thankful to hear Burma’s voice. “You can tell them yourself and, if you’re not nice to Cayuse, you can darn well walk.”

  “You are so mean.” A moan drifted from Burma’s lips and she whispered, “It hurts, Tilly.”

  “I know.” Tilly could only imagine the pain Burma must be suffering and reached across the gap between them to steady her. “It won’t be for much longer, and you’ll be more comfortable in the wagon, I promise.”

  When they reached it, Pete and Ryan helped Burma out of the saddle and into the wagon bed. Between them, they settled her in the bedroll and pile of blankets Pete had made ready for her. Ryan had brought some of the hot rocks from the fire in a leather satchel, and now laid these along side of her legs. Tilly scrambled in beside her, grateful for the extra warmth from the stones and the blankets she carried. Pete tethered Molly to the back of the wagon, then swung up onto his own horse, picked up the pony’s reins, and headed back to the camp.

  Once he was satisfied that Burma was as comfortable as they could make her, Ryan tethered Grulla to the wagon and climbed up onto the driver’s seat. He picked up the reins and the pair of Belgians hitched to the wagon started forward. As soon as it moved, a tremor of pain pulsed over Burma’s face.

  “Hold on, Burma.” Tilly reached under the blankets and gripped her hand. Burma simply nodded and closed her eyes, her nostrils pinched as every bump and jolt sent pain through her, her mouth a straight, tight line to prevent any sound from escaping.

  “Cry if you want to,” Tilly whispered. “I won’t tell.”

  “I almost don’t care,” Burma muttered. “My head feels worse than it did yesterday, but all of me hurts so much.”

  “We’ll be at the hospital soon and they’ll probably give you something for the pain.” Tilly gave Burma’s had a squeeze. “You’re doing great, and just think what a story you’ll have for all your New York friends. ‘Socialite Burma Evans rescued from the wilds of Banff’ will be the talk of the town.”

  “There should have been a bear.” Burma tried to laugh. “Much more dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Although she had said it wouldn’t be long, it seemed like an eternity before the wagon reached the Cave and Basin. From there, the trail joined pavement and the wagon rolled along more smoothly. The news of Burma’s accident must have already spread, judging from the number of people gathered at spots along the road. Ryan clicked the team to a steady trot and drove them straight to the Mineral Springs Hospital on Spray Avenue. As he pulled up beside the steps leading to the entrance, a hospital orderly came out and hurried to meet them.

  “Hello, Mr. Convie.” Ryan jumped down from the driver’s seat. “You got my message?”

  “I certainly did, Ryan.” The man looked over the side of the wagon. “What have we got here then? The lady got herself into some trouble, did she?”

  While he and Tilly moved Burma to the tailgate of the wagon, Ryan quickly described how they’d found her and what they had done. Ryan lifted her down, but she stumbled and cried out.

  “Put your good arm around my neck,” Ryan ordered. Burma didn’t argue as he lifted her and carefully carried her up the steps.

  Mr. Convie ran ahead and opened the door for them. Tilly would have followed Ryan into an examination room, but a Sister stopped her.

  “Are you family?”

  “No, I’m her friend,” Tilly said firmly.

  “Only family is permitted to be with her at this time.”

  “But she has no family here,” Tilly insisted.

  “I’m sorry, those are the rules.” The Sister closed the door with a decisive click, leaving Tilly, fuming, staring at it.

  When Ryan emerged he gave her a hug. “You’ve done all you can for now. We’ll come by later and see if we can visit her then.”

  She nodded and let him take her to the wagon, where she climbed up beside him.

  When they arrived back at the barn, Tilly was dismayed to find a reporter from the Crag and Canyon newspaper waiting for them. Ryan waved him away and hurried Tilly into the barn, but not before a camera flashed, capturing the moment. Tilly’s knees buckled and, before she knew it, Ryan had scooped her into his arms and carried her into the office.

  He sat in the chair by the stove and cradled her in his lap. All her strength had melted away leaving her as limp as a wet rag.

  “I hope I never have to do anything like that again,” she whispered. “Do you think Burma will be all right?”

  “She’s in the best place to get well again,” Ryan said. “But what about you? What do you need right now?”

  “Oh, a hot bath and a soft bed would be lovely, but I’m not that lucky.”

  “I think that could be arranged.” Ryan kissed the top of her head. “George’s wife will look after you.”

  “What?” Tilly looked up at him. “George has a wife? I thought he lived here.”

  Ryan laughed at that. “That’s what it seems like, because he lives so close. Come on, Mrs. Nugent is waiting to make a fuss of you. Seems she always wanted a girl, but just got Billy. Think you’re okay to walk a couple of blocks?”

  She set her feet on the floor and stood up. The warmth and comfort of the last few moments were enough to revive her a little. Ryan took her hand and walked her to a small house on Otter Street. Petunias bloomed in a pot on the step, a bright spot against the dark timber walls. White curtains hung at the windows and, in answer to his knock, the door swung open invitingly.

  “Oh, look at you, you poor lamb.” Tilly found herself drawn into a motherly embrace, the kind she had only ever dreamed of. She turned to Ryan, but Mrs. Nugent was already waving him away. “You come and have a cup of tea, my dear. Much better for you than that wicked coffee George brews. I swear he does it to annoy.”

  Tilly sat in a cozy chair beside the stove, inhaling the aroma of fresh baking and warming herself even more with the tea poured for her. She admired the pretty chinaware, drawing a beaming smile from the older woman.

  “George said you’d likely want a hot bath when you got back, so I’ve got one ready in the other room. Just needs topping off.”

  “But I haven’t got any clean clothes,” Tilly said. “All my stuff is still at the hotel.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing.” Mrs. Nugent smiled at her. “George figured it all out for you. He went up to the hotel and spoke to that Miss Richards and your friend, Felicity. All your things are in the spare bedroom.
”

  Whatever she had expected, this was not it. However temporary this arrangement might be she would make the most of the situation. When Mrs. Nugent left her, Tilly quickly undressed and stepped into the steaming tub. Bathing in the middle of the day was an unheard of luxury. She didn’t rush, but savored the gently lapping water as she lathered herself with lavender-scented soap. She rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. How deliciously decadent.

  When the water began to cool, she sat up and hauled herself out, reaching for one of the fluffy towels beside the tub. Everything had been placed in the exact spot to make it easy for her. She towelled herself dry and smiled at the sight of her clean clothes piled on the chair.

  Once dressed, she returned to the kitchen where Mrs. Nugent had set a plate piled with still-warm cookies and scones.

  “Ryan will be back to see you soon. Better help yourself before he can get his greedy paws on them.”

  Tilly bit into the best ginger cookie she had ever tasted and said so.

  “It’s the blackstrap molasses,” Mrs. Nugent told her as she sat down at the table. She suddenly looked a little serious. “I don’t want to pry, my dear, but it seems from what George told me that you’re in some kind of trouble.”

  Tilly licked a cookie crumb off her lip and looked up. George and his wife hardly knew her. Heck, they didn’t know her at all and yet they were offering the kind of help she’d only ever dreamed of. She couldn’t lie to them.

  “I was suspected of stealing a guest’s ring which was found in my room.” The accusation still stung. “Because of that I was put in the position of being fired or resigning, so I resigned. But I didn’t do it, I promise you I didn’t.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Mrs. Nugent reached across the table and patted her hand. “Now, if you’d like, we have a spare bedroom since Billy moved in with Ryan and Pete. He said I fussed too much, but I’m his mother, so I think I’m allowed. If you’d like that room, it’s yours.”

  “But I don’t have a job,” Tilly protested. “I wouldn’t be able to pay you any rent until I find something.”