“I can ride to Butte.” Reuben glanced at the leg again, then back to his wife. “I think we should wrap some kind of splint around it until then.”
“I have some herbals that will help with pain and swelling.” Mr. Grant again.
“Once her leg is secure, we should move her to the house.” Mrs. Scott looked at Nathaniel. “If that’s all right.”
His mind called up an image of his sparse, rickety cabin. “The place isn’t much, but it’ll be better than here.” He didn’t even have a wood floor laid yet.
Mr. Grant nodded as he rose. “All right then. I’ll get the medicines I brought and look for wood to splint the leg until the doctor can come.”
Reuben and his wife left the stall with the older man. The place felt almost empty with only Nathaniel, Miss Grant, and little Itu, and when he turned his focus back to them, the sight of the little girl’s relaxed expression as Miss Grant cradled and hummed to her sent a warmth through his chest.
Whether she was cutting cattle from a herd or soothing frightened children, this woman knew exactly when to step in and take action. And she had a way about her that made you believe she’d make everything work out in the end.
He sat there watching them, soaking in the sight of Miss Grant’s pretty face in the lamplight. The glow made her auburn hair take on a fiery gleam, the perfect representation of both her strength and beauty.
He’d do best not to linger there any longer. Rising to his knees, he let himself take in one last look. “I’m going to build a fire and ready a bed for her in the house. Is there anything else you need?”
Miss Grant met his gaze, her brown eyes serene, even with the flame flickering in their depths. “I’m sure she’s hungry, but I can see to that once we get her inside.”
He nodded. “I gave her a bowl of beans and cornbread, but that’s been a few hours. I’ll have more heating.” He hoped she liked beans, cornbread, and roasted meat, because that was all he had to offer, and even some of those supplies were getting thin.
Soon he’d have to make time to ride down to Butte to restock.
SETTING THE LITTLE girl’s leg was excruciating for all of them, and tears were running down both Hannah’s cheeks and the child’s by the time they were finished splinting the leg. Hannah could feel the pain trembling through the little body, and she longed to take the ache into herself.
Anything to lessen the torment.
At last, Papa eased away from the splint he’d wrapped. The lines across his face had thickened with the strain of the past half hour. “Let’s get her inside and steep some willow tea. Reuben, do you want to carry her?” Her father was probably spent from his efforts thus far.
She almost volunteered to carry the waif herself. The child couldn’t be heavier than her youngest cousins when she’d started toting them around, but Reuben’s strength would help keep Itu’s leg steady as he walked.
Reuben bent down in front of the girl and spoke in his Crow tongue to her, likely telling what they were about to do. Hannah could feel the tension heighten in the child, as she must have understood some of it.
Itu shook her head hard and clutched Hannah’s arms, holding her tight.
Hannah dropped her face so she could murmur in the child’s ear. “It’s all right. We’re not going far.” She probably didn’t understand a word, and Hannah almost didn’t want to speak English to the girl, because it might make her feel even more alone. That’s why she’d hummed earlier instead of speaking calming words.
Hannah switched to humming now. After a moment, she shifted her hands so she was holding the girl like a babe, one hand under her legs and the other around her back.
Itu still clung but didn’t protest the movement. Maybe Hannah would need to carry her after all.
Carefully, she worked her legs up underneath her, then stood, grateful for Reuben’s hand on her arm helping her rise with the load.
The girl was heavier than she’d looked.
Hannah thought briefly about handing the child over to Reuben now that she was standing, but Itu clung fiercely to her neck. Prying her away would be more traumatic than simply walking to the house.
A steady spattering of rain dripped from the sky as they stepped outside, and she ducked her head over the child’s to keep her dry. It would take a long time in front of a warm fire to dry them, as damp as they both were already.
Cathleen held the cabin door open, and as Hannah stepped inside, she couldn’t help but notice the way the door frame slanted a little. The wood looked as if it had seen more than one harsh winter. There was no porch, so she stepped on the flat rock meant for a stoop, then onto the transom. She expected her next step to land on the cabin’s wood floor, but inside was another flat rock, then down to hard-packed ground. The place was dim with only the hearth fire and a lantern offering light.
Nathaniel met her partway into the room. “I’ve made a pallet by the fire.” He motioned toward the bedding. “I used all the blankets I have, but they’re probably still not very comfortable.”
She moved to the bed and dropped to her knees, then lay Itu down on the blankets. The fire’s warmth felt heavenly at her shoulder.
Cathleen was by her side, adjusting the girl’s splinted leg and pulling out the blankets that had been wrapped around her before. She held up the darker one. “This is still wet. I’ll lay it out to dry.”
While Papa and the others brewed herbal tea and scooped out food, Hannah stayed with Itu, stroking her hair and soothing in any way she could. When Cathleen handed her a bowl of beans, she helped the girl eat. Itu could feed herself, but she seemed to prefer for Hannah to do it. She was surely exhausted from the pain and fear and whatever else she’d endured before Mr. Peak found her.
That thought spurred another, and she looked up at the men around her. “Do you think whoever brought her will worry when they don’t find her in the barn? What will they do?” It might be too much to hope they’d come knock on the door and ask politely to see the child.
Reuben scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Watch and wait probably. Depending on whether it’s a warrior or squaw.” He looked pointedly at Mr. Peak. “Nathaniel, you need to stay on your guard. Keep your rifle with you at all times just in case. They’ll probably be friendly if they don’t think you’ve kidnapped the girl. Try to show you mean no harm.”
Her brother glanced toward the door. “I need to head out if I’m going to make it to Butte tonight.” He glanced at his wife. “I’ll stop by our cabin and see how Emma’s doing with Mum.”
Cathleen pushed to her feet. “I’ll ride back with you. I don’t think there’s much more I can do here. Simeon knows more than I do and has more supplies.” She sent Papa a smile, and Hannah couldn’t help a smile herself at the way her family seemed to be connecting with Reuben and his family.
“We should be going soon, too.” Papa’s voice settled over her like a weight. “I’ll go through the herbs and explain what to give when.”
He would leave this girl with Mr. Peak? She glanced at the man, whose face had paled. He still met her father’s gaze, though, with a nod. Didn’t he have work to do? His new cattle to tend? How could he do all that and care for an injured five-year-old, too?
She forced herself to speak up. “Papa, I’ll stay and care for the girl. Mr. Peak won’t be able to do his work and care for all of Itu’s needs.”
All eyes turned to her. Even Reuben stopped on his way to the door and looked back at her. She kept her chin raised. What she’d said was true, and a few shocked looks didn’t change the fact.
Papa’s gaze slid from her to Mr. Peak. What did he see there?
She didn’t turn to look. This wasn’t about Mr. Peak. It was about her desire to stay and help this sweet child feel better. There was so little for her to do back at Reuben’s house, what with Mama and Cathleen in charge of everything.
Here, she was needed.
“I’ll stay with you.” Cathleen stepped forward. “We’ll help her while Mr. Peak is working today, then re
turn home just before dark.”
Papa sighed. “No. Go home. I’ll stay with Hannah and tend our charge.” He sent a nod toward Cathleen and Reuben. “Let my wife know not to worry.”
As the pair exited, Hannah tried not to let her frustration show. She was capable of staying with the girl on her own. And capable of dealing with this man in the process. He’d not given any cause for concern so far, but she had her rifle and could use it if the need arose. She turned back to Itu, stealing a glance at Mr. Peak as she did.
“Well.” The man let out a breath. “I suppose I’ll go settle our horses. I don’t have hay cut yet, but at least I can unsaddle them. Is there anything you need while I’m out there?”
Papa nodded. “A few things, but I’ll come out and lend a hand. Hannah, are you all right here alone?”
“Of course.” At home, they’d not hesitate to send her into the mountains on her own to check a herd or out on a solo hunting trip. Why the overbearing concern now? Did her father distrust Mr. Peak?
Every time she began to feel more comfortable with the man, something new came up to raise her concerns.
NATHANIEL ALMOST MISSED the sound of approaching horses the next morning between blows from his ax. He lowered the tool and watched the trail into the clearing, his breath coming in hard gasps from the steady effort he’d been putting in. He really should be cutting hay, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Itu that morning. So he’d set to work cutting slabs of wood to replace the rotten pieces on his door frame.
He hadn’t planned to work on the house until the hay was cut and a corral fence built, but exposing the inadequacies of his home the day before had been embarrassing. Sure, he’d only been here about a month and his focus had been the animals, but he was used to being proud of his living space—whether it be their farm back in Virginia or his bunk at the fort. He’d never been slovenly, and the thought that his new neighbors might think him that way rubbed him wrong.
Besides, the doctor should come any time. Hopefully, that was him now.
Four figures emerged through the trees, two men and two women. He recognized the horses Reuben and his wife had ridden the day before, but it was the poised form of Miss Grant that drew his focus. He’d not let himself hope she would come back today. Mostly because he shouldn’t hope it. He was doing a sorry job of keeping his interest at bay. If she would simply fade into the background instead of being so good at everything she set her mind to, she’d be easier to forget.
Wiping a sleeve across his forehead, he headed for the house. Itu had slept a lot that morning, which was good, for rest helped keep her mind off the pain. He’d go ahead and put some fresh water on to heat in case the doctor needed it. Come to think of it, he should probably rustle up some food for them all. A glance at the sun showed he’d missed the time for the midday meal. How had the day slipped away so far?
The girl opened her eyes when he stepped into the cabin.
He offered a smile. “You have visitors.” Her eyes lit, and she spoke something he couldn’t understand. Was she asking for Miss Grant? Itu had been so downcast when the woman and her father left the evening before.
He didn’t blame the child. He’d rather see that pretty lady than his own ugly mug any day.
With the fire stoked and the pot of water moved to a warmer position, he strode back to let in their visitors. Miss Grant was the first face he saw as he pulled open the door, and his breath caught at the sheer prettiness of her features.
With her cheeks pinkened and her hair a bit windblown from the ride, seeing her this close made it hard to breathe.
Chapter Eight
Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be my lot. Yet, I can’t turn away.
~ Nathaniel
Nathaniel could feel the strength of Miss Grant’s gaze as she searched his face.
“How is she?”
He forced himself to look away from the beauty in front of him, to step aside and motion toward the girl. “She’s slept a lot today. I think she’s eager to see you.”
The woman strode across the room, her focus on nothing but the child. How nice it must have been to have all that loveliness centered on you.
Mrs. Scott stepped in next, followed by a man who must have been the doctor. The man extended his hand. “Doc Bryan Donaghue.”
Nathaniel returned the clasp. “Nathaniel Peak. Thanks for coming so far.”
As the doctor followed the women to Itu’s bed, Nathaniel looked back out to see why Reuben hadn’t come in, too. He held all four horses’ reins and was walking toward the barn. “I’m going to tie them,” he called over his shoulder.
Nathaniel should go help the man. Yet everything in him pulled him toward the group kneeling beside the little girl who had become his responsibility. So he called out to Reuben, “There’s two open stalls. Feel free to use them.”
Miss Grant had the girl wrapped in a hug by the time he made it over to them. The doctor was talking to the child while he examined the leg.
Itu didn’t have the frightened look of the day before, not when she was holding tight to Miss Grant. Pain flashed through the child’s eyes as the doctor unwrapped the cloth binding the splint.
Miss Grant looked up at Nathaniel as though she needed something, and he moved nearer.
“Do you have any willow tea made?” She spoke in a low voice that wouldn’t distract the doctor.
He glanced toward the pot. “Not since midmorning when I gave her everything you left. I have water heating. Should I make some?”
She nodded. “It’ll help with the pain.”
That was right. Her father had mentioned that the night before, but he’d been so focused on exactly what to give when, he’d not stored the tidbit away in his mind. He should have thought ahead and had some ready for when the doctor arrived.
After setting the tea to steep, he turned back to watch the examination. He had to grit his teeth to keep his gorge down when the cloth covering fell away to reveal the bruised and swollen leg—at least twice the normal size from the knee down. The gash above the ankle was by far the worst, with the bright red tear split apart and oozing all manner of unsettling colors.
Even Doctor Donaghue’s face held a grim line.
Miss Grant had taken up her humming and never stopped as she stroked the child’s hair. She’d positioned herself in such a way that he didn’t think Itu could see her injured leg. Was that intentional? Either way, he was thankful.
It seemed to take forever for the doctor to bandage the wound, then splint the leg. At last, he straightened and managed a smile for the girl. “You did so well, I have a sweet for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a peppermint, then held it out for the girl.
Itu only stared at the object. Miss Grant reached for the candy, then touched it to the girl’s mouth with a smile and a nod. The little mouth opened, and the peppermint disappeared inside.
Gradually, a smile bloomed on the child’s face as she stared at Miss Grant, lighting her eyes in a way that pressed hard on Nathaniel’s chest. Then Itu looked to the doctor, and the smile turned shy.
He chuckled and patted the girl’s arm. “Candy always helps.”
Mrs. Scott had already packed the doctor’s supplies back in his bag, a sure sign she’d worked with her brother before.
Doctor Donaghue looked from Nathaniel to Miss Grant. “Who will be the primary caretaker for her?”
“I will.” They both spoke at once.
Nathaniel turned to Miss Grant. What did she mean by that? She couldn’t be Itu’s caretaker unless they moved the child to the Scotts’ home.
Her face colored a little. “I mean, I’d like to be.” She glanced at Nathaniel. “I guess we should talk about it.”
“All right, then.” The doctor pushed to his feet. “Perhaps you could both walk me to my horse.”
Something about the doctor’s manner, or maybe Miss Grant strolling just ahead of him, set Nathaniel’s nerves on edge as the three of them stepped out th
e door.
The doctor made it halfway across the yard before he turned to face them both. His expression was almost as grim as it had been when he first saw the wound. “I have to say, that leg doesn’t look good. There’s been a great deal of damage to the muscle and tissue, and the wound is festering.”
“How long ago do you think it happened?” Nathaniel was still trying to piece together where she’d come from and why someone would have left her alone so long in the barn. He’d seen no sign of a guardian returning for her. He’d been on the lookout for someone waiting in the woods, but there’d been no indication of anybody nearby.
Doctor Donaghue’s forehead creased. “Several days, at least. Maybe four or five.”
Four or five days with the injury left untreated. How much pain she must have been in.
“What should we do for her?” Miss Grant spoke up, always the doer.
“She needs to stay still for a while. At least a week. I’ll try to come up and change the bandage by then. I’ll have to unfasten the splint, and we can see how she’s healing.” He leveled a serious gaze on them both. “There’s been so much damage, there’s a chance the infection could spread or the tissues won’t regrow.”
The pressure in Nathaniel’s chest rose up to his throat. “What does that mean?”
“She may lose the leg.”
He could hear a gasp from Miss Grant, but his mind seemed to slow as he tried to process the words.
The doctor kept talking. “We’ll make the decision when I come back as to whether she’s healing or if we need to take the leg before things get worse. The sooner we act, the less she’ll need to lose.”
A hand gripped his arm, and without thinking, he laid his palm over Miss Grant’s fingers. Poor Itu. How could she manage life with one leg missing?
He’d known men who lost limbs in the War Between the States, many of whom were bitter and sullen about their loss, becoming recluses and often simply fading away.
That couldn’t happen to such a young child, one with her entire life ahead of her. She should be running and playing games with her friends—wherever they may be—not lying in his ramshackle cabin, threatened with the possible loss of a limb.
This Healing Journey Page 6