Alex watched as Grace exited the house with her carpetbag and bedroll. She had changed clothes and wore a wide-brimmed bonnet and wool coat. The coat was a practical and wise choice given the heavy clouds rolling in.
Taking her bedroll, Alex tied it onto the back of her Spanish saddle. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had Sam bring along your tent. We saw it in the wagon, and given the threat of bad weather, it might be wise.”
“I’m glad you thought of it,” Grace replied as she slung the handles of her carpetbag over the saddle horn. “The girls are staying here as I presumed they would.” She stepped back and frowned. “Ah, I hadn’t thought about mounting.”
“I wondered if you’d considered it wasn’t a sidesaddle,” Alex said, looking skeptical.
“I did remember that. That’s why I’m wearing such a full skirt.” She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to help me.”
Alex stretched his hands forward. “Step onto my hand while you hold on to the horn. I’ll raise you up, and you can throw your leg over the back of the horse and settle onto the saddle.”
Grace frowned. “You make it sound so easy.”
He laughed and bent lower so that she wouldn’t have to lift her leg very high. As she followed his instructions, Alex noted the heavy boots she wore rather than the shoes he’d seen her in earlier. It was nice to see a woman who was sensible. With little effort, he raised her to the saddle and held her foot until she had arranged her skirts and eased into the seat.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I think so.” She looked down at her bags and her feet firmly in the stirrups. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m ready.”
They headed north, making good time before the land became more difficult to navigate. Grace managed well enough and never complained. Alex remembered when she’d first arrived at the mission. He had thought her no different than so many of the other white women who’d passed through the area. Even the women at the mission, although hearty, were still very much creatures of the eastern cities and states where they had grown up. He had often heard them lament the conveniences they’d left behind. But Grace seemed suited to this life.
He smiled to himself, remembering her fear of Sam. Now she seemed almost comfortable with the Nez Perce and Cayuse. Of course, he had noted her uneasiness earlier in the day with the large number of Cayuse braves at the gristmill, but he couldn’t fault her for what he felt himself. Even though Telokite had given his word, Alex knew Joe Lewis was still actively stirring up trouble. Not only that, but Telokite had three very sick children. If they died, there was no telling what might happen. But this Alex kept to himself.
They made camp that night just before dark. The tent was barely staked out before the first drops of rain began to fall. Despite his heavy coat, the icy cold chilled Alex to the bone, making him wonder if Grace was warm enough. Alex had told Grace that he and Sam would sleep outside, but with the weather growing steadily worse, he knew he’d have to broach the subject of them all sharing the tent for the night. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would take it.
The wind picked up, and Grace held fast to her wide-brimmed bonnet despite the fact that the ties remained securely fixed under her chin. “You can’t sleep out here tonight,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the wind.
Alex nodded, grateful that she’d taken the difficulty out of the matter. “Go ahead and get inside. Sam and I will make sure the horses are secured.”
It didn’t take but a minute to check on the horses. The trio paid little attention to the elements and instead focused on seeking out what grass could be had. Alex and Sam quickly made their way back to the tent. Once inside the shelter, Alex tied the flaps as tight as possible and then put his back to the opening, hoping to further block out the wind. It was a tight fit with all three of them inside, but it would suffice.
“I’m glad you decided to share the tent,” Grace said, her teeth chattering. “I wouldn’t have rested a bit knowing you were out in the storm.”
Sam shrugged. “It would not be the first time.” He unrolled a buffalo hide and smiled. “This would keep me plenty warm.”
Alex chuckled and unrolled a similar hide. “We’ve slept outside in our share of storms. But I will say this is preferable.”
The wind rocked the tent, making Alex worry that they might not have staked it as securely as needed. The howling noise was enough to put them all on edge.
Sam broke out some dried fish for their supper while Grace produced a fine loaf of bread.
Alex nodded in approval. “I wondered if you had thought of packing food.”
Grace shrugged. “I brought what I could. I have a dozen or so biscuits, a jar of jam, and some cookies. I wasn’t sure whether or not you planned to shoot game along the way.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a rabbit or two,” Alex said, smiling. He paused for a moment, then asked, “What kind of cookies?”
Grace laughed and produced four cookies from her bag. She handed two to each man. “Oatmeal. Dr. Whitman laid in a large supply of oats for the winter. Sugar was a little harder to come by. Apparently when he was at Fort Nez Perce he was told that the Hudson’s Bay Company supplies coming in from the Sandwich Islands had been delayed. I was stunned to learn that ships regularly travel back and forth from the islands to Oregon Country. There are even natives who’ve come to work for the company.”
Alex chuckled. “Yes, I’ve met several. They’re interesting folks, similar to the Indians in appearance yet very different. They tell wonderful stories about their lives in the Pacific.”
“Where do you come from, Alex?” Grace asked, taking him completely off guard.
“Ontario.”
She shook her head. “But aren’t you American? Where did you live before Canada?”
He swallowed hard. “New Orleans.”
She nodded. “I lived just outside of St. Louis, so we shared the Mississippi.”
“Indeed.”
“What about you, Sam? Have you always lived in this area?”
“Yes.” Sam stretched out on his side. “We move when we need to follow the animals or the seasons, but we are never far from here. This land will always be home to the Niimíipuu.”
“Such an interesting language. I’d very much like to learn more, but I’ve never had much of a head for such things. My Da spoke Gaelic, and for a time I did as well. I’m afraid, however, that after he died I didn’t use it all that much, and I’ve forgotten a great deal.”
Alex hoped Sam’s life and people would captivate Grace’s attention and keep her from asking too much about his own life. The hope was short-lived.
“I know that Sam was led to the Lord’s salvation at the Catholic mission, but what about you, Alex?”
He tried not to sound uneasy. “My mother. She taught us to read the Bible and how to pray.” The memory was only a vague recollection, but it still remained sweet.
“And what of your father?”
“He was involved with brokering cotton, but he too feared God. There were times when he told me that he felt he was at war with God, but never did he not believe in Him.”
“And what of you?” Grace asked. Her eyes met his and seemed to burn into his soul.
“I suppose if I’m honest, I’d say we’ve called a truce to the war between us.” In losing Gabriel, Alex had become only too aware of how distant God seemed.
Grace gave him a smile. “Making peace with God is much better than making war. I know this for myself. There have been times of anger and frustration when I was certain God had forsaken me.”
Alex stiffened. Her words matched those in his heart. If he wasn’t careful, he’d soon be babbling all the details of his sorry past. Taking a cue from Sam, he stretched out and wrapped up in his fur.
“It’s probably best if we get some sleep. We’ll need to start early tomorrow.” The wind had died down, and only the steady beat of rain could be heard.
He watched as Grace maneuvered into her own blanket an
d then put out the lantern. Relief washed over him as he realized she wasn’t going to say anything more. Not that she needed to speak to make him uncomfortable. He was only too aware of her nearness. He could hear her breathing, smell the faded scent of herbs. She always smelled of herbs.
Rolling to his other side and pressing as far into the canvas of the tent as he could, Alex felt his torment acutely. The storm outside wasn’t the only one he had to endure that night. And unlike the rain, he couldn’t escape this deluge.
Chapter
12
At Grace’s insistence they started early and pushed through until dark. By late that day they had arrived at the Browning mission, and Grace was stunned to see that it was hardly more than a tiny cabin and poorly constructed pen for their animals. There appeared to be a stand of trees and a creek running behind the house, but other than the wagon they’d brought west, that was all.
Alex and Sam cared for the horses while Grace went to the cabin. The door opened to reveal a haggard Isaac. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.”
“Of course I came. You have Alex and Sam Two Moons to thank for that.” She motioned over her shoulder. “They’re taking care of our horses. Now tell me what’s happened.”
Isaac ushered her into the tiny cabin and pointed to the corner where Eletta slept on a narrow bed. Grace could hear her ragged breathing. “She’s maybe a little better. I’m no judge, but it seems she isn’t coughing as much.”
Grace motioned to a chair. “Would you bring that? Oh, and a light.” She took off her heavy coat and cast it aside but kept her carpetbag close at hand. Once Isaac brought the chair, she pulled it close to the bed and sat down. She put the carpetbag at her feet, then reached out to feel Eletta’s head. She was a little warm. No doubt a low fever. Grace felt for her pulse. It was strong and even. Perhaps the worst had come and gone.
The disturbance brought Eletta awake. “Grace?” The single word sent her into a coughing fit.
Isaac brought a lamp and placed it beside the bed on a crude stand. Grace glanced around. “Isaac, do you have hot water?” She’d never used his first name before, but the setting seemed to beg familiarity.
He stepped toward the fireplace. “I do.”
“Please put some in a cup and bring it here.” She looked at Eletta. “I’ll make you something that will calm that cough.”
“I’m . . . so . . . afraid,” Eletta sputtered. She fell silent except for the terrible cough.
“Hush now. I’ll soon have you to rights.” Isaac brought the water to Grace. She opened her carpetbag and located a bottle of tonic. “This is an old remedy from my grandmother. The taste isn’t all that pleasant, but it works wonders. If you have any honey, it would help considerably.”
“We have some,” Isaac replied. He moved to the opposite side of the room, which couldn’t have been more than ten feet away.
Alex and Sam entered the house. Neither man said a word but simply exchanged nods with Isaac.
Isaac brought the honey to Grace, but his gaze never left Eletta. “She’s been sick for about three weeks. It started not long after we got here.”
Grace helped Eletta drink the concoction. “How did the sickness begin?”
“It started with the sniffles, and then the cough came. I’ve done what I could for her, but I know it’s not been enough. I wanted to send for you sooner, but no one could take the message. Even then, I hated to bother you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Eletta suffered through another bout of coughing, this one a little worse than the last. Grace prayed her tonic would soon help Eletta rest and the cough to abate.
“So what do you think it is?” Alex asked softly. He had come to stand beside Grace, and when she looked at him, she could tell he understood the gravity.
“I’m not entirely sure. Could be influenza or whooping cough.”
Eletta began coughing so hard that Grace feared she might vomit.
“Sam,” Grace said, looking over her shoulder, “would you bring more water? We need to fill every pot and get it boiling.”
Sam nodded and glanced around the room. “Do you have a bucket?”
“There are two just outside the door,” Isaac replied. “Creek’s behind the cabin.”
Grace was grateful Sam needed no further instruction. Time was of the essence. “I’m going to put some herbs in the pots. As the water boils, the steam will help her breathe easier.” At least she prayed it would.
Grace reached into her bag and pulled out a long wooden tube. This stethoscope had been modeled after one that a physician in St. Louis carried. Her mother hadn’t the money to afford a professional device, so Da had made it for her out of cedarwood after getting the doctor to allow him to look over the piece. It worked perfectly.
“Eletta, I’m going to listen to your lungs. Isaac, I need you to help her sit up so I can put this stethoscope on her back. It’s the best way to hear the function of the lungs.”
Isaac immediately moved to help his wife.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Alex asked.
Grace gave him a grateful look. “Build up the fire, and when Sam gets back, help him get the water on.”
Alex nodded and went to work as Grace continued her examination. Listening to Eletta’s lungs proved Grace’s suspicions. No matter how the sickness had started, Eletta now had a great deal of congestion in her lungs. They would need to work fast to keep her from succumbing.
“I never should have brought her west,” Isaac said.
Grace put aside her stethoscope. “Let’s put her back down.”
Eletta began coughing again.
“I’m so sorry, Eletta. If we’d stayed in the east, there would have been doctors and hospitals,” Isaac murmured. “We wouldn’t have gone three weeks in the wild without help.”
Grace knew there would never be any words adequate enough to ease his guilt, but she wanted to try. “There’s no point in worrying about what should or shouldn’t have been done. Doctors in the east might have been unable to keep this from growing worse. Often that is the case. Now, I’m going to mix some additional medicine for her.” Grace looked at Eletta. The coughing was easing up.
Throughout the next twenty-four hours, Grace stayed at Eletta’s side. The men suggested she rest, but her fear of losing Eletta wouldn’t allow for it. It wasn’t until Eletta’s fever subsided and her breathing came easier that Grace agreed to take a few minutes to stretch and get some air.
Outside, a chill wind cut Grace to the bone. She hadn’t thought to don her coat since she only planned to be outside for a few minutes. She gazed heavenward and could see neither the moon nor stars for the heavy rain clouds. It had rained off and on all day, but for the moment it had ceased. Even so, the low clouds seemed to press down on her.
“Lord, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I pray that you will help my friend recover. I love her so dearly. She’s like another sister.” Grace sighed. “This land is so beautiful. I prefer it to the cities, but I know that it’s dangerous. Just help us—help me to know what to do. Please.”
With another heavy sigh, Grace squared her shoulders. When she turned back to the cabin, she found Alex watching her. He was leaning against the doorjamb, just watching and waiting, and somewhere deep inside, Grace felt a sense of being cared for. That was something she’d not known in a very long time.
By the third day, Eletta showed marked improvement, and Isaac began to relax a bit. In another few days, Grace felt certain her friend would be past the worst of it.
At some point, Sam had gone out and managed to shoot a young buck. Grace put some of the meat into a stew, hoping to get some of the strong broth into Eletta. Throughout the next few hours, she checked on the concoction, sampling it from time to time.
Finally, she gave the men a nod. “The stew is ready.” She drew off some of the broth into a bowl and took it to Eletta. “I know you haven’t any appetite, but you must eat.”
Eletta didn
’t argue but instead let Grace help her to sit up and then eat. “How are things at the mission?” Eletta asked. Her speaking caused the coughing to resume.
Grace waited until the attack passed before answering. “Things are still very tense because of the Cayuse. Sickness, mostly measles, has taken the lives of so many there, but worse, they believe Dr. Whitman is poisoning them.”
“Poisoning them? How and why?”
“Apparently Dr. Whitman put out arsenic to poison the wolves that were coming in to steal food. Joe Lewis, a half-Indian man who often translates for the Cayuse, told them that the doctor intended the arsenic to poison the Indians.” She gave Eletta another spoonful of broth. “As to why they would believe it, I can only say that they are worried and grieving. There’s been so much death. I’ve seen so many little ones pass on.”
For several long moments, neither one spoke. Grace wished with all of her heart that she could have done more for the natives. If only Dr. Whitman had been willing to work with her instead of against her. But after what happened with Gabriel, Grace didn’t desire to work with the doctor at all. His interference had been the death of Gabriel. At least as far as she was concerned.
Grace pushed the matter aside and offered Eletta more soup. “On a cheerier note, Hope is in love with young John Sager. I didn’t expect her to become quite so serious about him, but it appears to be true love.”
Eletta smiled. “I fell in love with Isaac when I was fifteen.”
“Hope will be eighteen next March, so I suppose she can hardly be considered a child. I know for certain that men do not look upon her as one, which has been of some concern to me.”
“We married when I was sixteen. That’s been almost ten years now.” Eletta’s expression became sad. “I thought things would be so different.”
Treasured Grace Page 12