“Mr. Jenkins.” Her heart thudded in her chest, and she inhaled a deep breath to slow her pulse. It was only the friendly man from the café.
He stepped up beside her with a slight bow. “’S a pleasure to see you again.” His words didn’t hold the same crispness as they had earlier but seemed to slur a bit.
She tipped her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. He was smiling at her, but the look was off-kilter, one side of his mouth rising more than the other.
And his breath. She knew that noxious odor the moment it brushed her nose. One couldn’t enter Fort Hamilton without detecting the strong odor of whiskey.
She stepped back. “Good to see you again, sir. I was just going back to our hotel.” More than one encounter with a drunken trapper had taught her to leave them be. Men who touched the stuff were unreliable at best and often downright dangerous.
“With me a while.” He grabbed her arm, his speech even more slurred than before. “I don’t usually have a pretty lady to pass the lonely, lonely...” He paused, apparently struggling to find the right words. Or maybe he’d lost his line of thought altogether.
She pulled back, twisting her arm to try to remove it from his grasp. As drunk as he was, his grip was firm. “Thank you, but no.” She barked the last word, just in case he was having trouble hearing in his inebriated state. “Release me, please.” She’d ask nicely first, then get as forceful as she had to.
He tugged her forward. “Come on, Miss Grant. Tell me about yourself. Such a pretty”—he hiccupped—"thing.”
She walked beside him, more to keep her balance than anything as she bent down and reached under her skirt, extracting the hunting knife from its sheath in her boot. With a flick of her wrist, she gripped the handle and pressed the blade against the man’s neck. “I said, release me. Now.”
He took twice as long to react as any sober man would, but he finally stopped, his eyes spreading wide as he leaned his head back. She kept the blade pressed against him with her free hand and tugged her arm where he held her.
His hand dropped away, both arms dangling by his sides.
“Good night, Mr. Jenkins.” She backed away, making sure she was several paces away before she turned and took long strides toward the hotel.
From the corner of her eye, she watched for movement on the boardwalk that signaled he was following her. He probably hadn’t premeditated his attack, but foul drink was poison to a man’s character.
Finally, the hotel came in sight. As she slipped through its door into safety, she breathed a thankful prayer heavenward. Once again, God had proved His faithfulness to her.
Lord, protect Itu the same way. She needs it even more than I do.
Chapter Thirteen
How can this be right when everything about it feels wrong?
~ Nathaniel
TWO DAYS NOW.
Hannah hadn’t come for two days, and Nathaniel’s nerves were strung tight enough to ignite gunpowder. Itu’s fever was burning ferociously. She was almost incoherent most of the time. He was afraid to leave her side except for quick trips to tend Raven or retrieve fresh water.
They needed help.
If Hannah wouldn’t come to them, he’d have to go get her. And maybe he needed more than just her. In truth, they needed the doctor. His gut said the doctor would have to follow through on that awful possibility he’d mentioned the first time he came.
“Oh, Itu.” The words slipped out as he stroked her sweat-dampened hair. “I’m going to have to leave you for a little while to get help. But I’ll be back. Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”
The girl didn’t stir, just breathed in another raspy breath through her chapped lips. Should he take her with him? She’d get help quicker, but her body seemed so frail, he wasn’t sure she could survive the trip. Especially not on horseback.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Hold on until I return.”
Without taking the time to saddle Raven, he slipped on a bridle and pulled himself up bareback.
They covered the distance as quickly as the winding trail through the woods allowed. One day he’d cut a road through here so they could travel with a team and wagon. Of course, that would only be helpful when he actually had a wagon.
So much held a higher priority than buying a rig though. And the most important of all—Itu’s life.
Urgency swept through him as he cantered into Reuben’s yard. A wagon and team sat beside the house, and another horse had been tied to the hitching rail. Did the man have more company? It didn’t seem many more people could fit inside that little cabin.
But the horses hitched looked familiar, like the ones he’d seen in Reuben’s corral. Maybe they’d been to town.
Two figures were working around the wagon, and it wasn’t hard to make out the tall form of Simeon Grant. But then the second man came into better view, and Nathaniel had to blink to figure out what he was seeing. They couldn’t both be Simeon.
No, the second man was Reuben. Yet their outlines were so similar, they could easily be father and son.
Hadn’t they been strangers that day he’d first come to meet his new neighbors? He’d sure thought so, but maybe he’d been mistaken. That would account for why the Grant family had stayed here so long.
Not that he was complaining. Their presence sent a flood of relief through him.
He reined in near the wagon, and both men came to him with worry clouding their features.
“The girl is much worse. Any chance you can come? I’ve done everything I know to do, but she’s burning with fever and not very alert.” He directed his comments to Simeon, but he was really talking to anyone who would listen. They needed help.
Reuben moved toward the house. “Bryan just got here. We’ll come now.”
Bryan...the doctor? His relief nearly swept the strength from his muscles. His gaze moved back to Simeon, who was watching him.
“We just returned from Butte. Hannah told Bryan how the child was worsening, so he agreed to ride back with us.”
Hannah had done this. The urge slipped through him to take her in his arms and swing her around in a tight hug. That would be unacceptable, especially with her father standing here, eyeing him. But he’d sure say thank-you.
Simeon turned toward the house. “I’ll see if he needs me to bring anything, then we’ll saddle the horses.”
Nathaniel helped with what he could, but there seemed precious little he could do to speed the process of getting everyone ready to head back to his place. In the end, Doc Bryan, Simeon, and Hannah saddled their horses to ride back with him.
Hannah’s face was a mask of worry as she exited the barn with her gelding and saw him standing with his horse. “How is she?”
He swallowed down the lump that tried to clog his throat. “Not good.” He relayed the same details he’d told her father, plus the things he’d been doing to help.
She mounted and moved closer to him. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been there to help. My parents wanted to go to Butte for supplies, and I thought it might be good for me to go along and see if the doctor would come back with us.” Her jaw set firmly as her gaze lifted toward the trail to his cabin. “I should have been with Itu, though.”
Oh, how he wished she’d been here. But really, her decision had been the right one. “Thank you for bringing the doctor.”
The barn door opened again, and Simeon stepped out with his paint mare, followed by Doc Bryan.
Nathaniel mounted Raven and turned the mare homeward. “Let’s go.”
Lord, don’t let us be too late.
HANNAH’S HEART FELT like it might be breaking as she wrapped her arms around Itu’s tiny body. The child was as hot as a warming stone just pulled from the fire. At least she seemed to be aware that Hannah was there, although she’d only slitted her eyes once in response to the kiss Hannah pressed to her forehead.
Doc Bryan had removed the splint and was now unwrapping the bandage that covered the girl’s leg bel
ow the knee. Hannah forced her body to remain still, not to react to what would surely be an awful sight.
Nathaniel knelt on the side opposite the doctor, and her father was positioned by the girl’s feet, both men ready to assist should Bryan need anything. But what could they do now? The real work would come if Itu’s leg had to be removed.
God, no. Save this child from that torment. She wasn’t even sure how it would be done, but the process could be nothing less than excruciating.
As Bryan peeled away the soiled bandage, Itu’s swollen and bruised leg came into full view. Hannah had to press her lips shut to keep from casting up her accounts at the hideous assortment of reds, blues, yellows, and greens. But it was the gash above the ankle that tightened her stomach into a sick knot. Could there be a more grotesque wound? No wonder a fever raged inside the poor child’s body.
She ducked low over Itu’s face, stroking her hair and cheek. She wanted to hum to the girl to soothe her, but she didn’t want to distract Doc Bryan’s focus. A glance at him showed his attention honed on the wound. When he touched the swollen edge of the gash, Itu jerked and clawed for his arm.
Nathaniel caught her hand before she could grab the doctor, then he took both of her little hands in his big, workworn palms, stroking his thumb across them.
Doc Bryan looked up at them, his gaze shifting from one adult to the next. “The only thing we can do is take it off.”
A sob caught in Hannah’s throat, slipping out against her will. Not this sweet child. How much horror could her tiny body withstand?
A hand settled on her shoulder, stroking. Nathaniel’s hand. She turned to meet his eyes and saw a match to her turmoil there.
“If we take the leg off now, I think we can save her life.” The doctor’s words broke through her pain.
They both turned to face him, but thankfully, Nathaniel didn’t pull his hand from her shoulder. She needed the strength of his touch.
“If we don’t get rid of this infection, she’ll probably only live another few days. At the most.”
Hannah clamped her jaw against another sob, putting her focus into stroking Itu’s hair with as gentle a touch as she could maintain. She wanted to scream. To cry. To scoop up the girl and take her away from this misery.
But she could do none of it.
Her gaze lifted to Nathaniel again. They had no choice. Did they?
His thumb stroked the ridge of her shoulder. “If it will save her, we have to.” His eyes were rimmed in red, but in their depths, she saw his determination. His will to see Itu through this no matter what it cost him.
She would do the same. No matter what it cost.
The doctor took a couple minutes to ready his tools, and she had to look away when he pulled a hideous-looking saw from his bag. Finally, he turned back to them. “I’ll let her smell the chloroform, and she’ll fall asleep while I remove the leg. I’ll need everyone out at that point except Mr. Grant.” He looked to Papa.
Part of her wanted to object. She should be here for Itu. What if the girl woke partway through the surgery? What if something happened and the doctor needed an extra hand?
But in truth, she wasn’t sure she could stomach watching what was about to happen. Not to sweet Itu.
She’d developed the ability to separate herself from an animal when hunting so she could remove the organs to get at the meat and cut off the hide to provide blankets for their family. But those were animals, not a child she’d loved and cared for. A girl who’d become part of her heart.
Yes, it was best she leave the cabin while the worst of the surgery took place.
After Bryan held a cloth near her face, Itu’s breathing slipped into an even in-and-out. The doctor nodded at them, and Nathaniel rose. He moved to Hannah’s side and took her arm to help her up.
She let him. Assistance she wouldn’t normally need, but her legs felt like they might give way at any moment.
He touched the small of her back, guiding her toward the door, then shifted his hand to her elbow to help her up on the stoop, then down the other side. His nearness was a comfort she couldn’t bring herself to push away.
Even if she should.
But she wasn’t so sure about that now. The more she’d come to know Nathaniel, the more she appreciated his character. And what little she’d seen of the men in Butte had only reinforced those feelings.
Yet now was hardly the time to think on them. Not with what was happening just on the other side of the cabin door.
She blew out a long breath, trying to force out the tension locked in her chest. Nathaniel rubbed circles in her mid-back, and she leaned into him. Maybe she should say something, but what words would help? They could only wait.
By the time the cabin door opened, she was leaning against Nathaniel, and he’d wrapped a hand around her waist. Supporting her.
She straightened and turned toward the door. Papa stuck his head out, his face grim and maybe a little pale. “You can come back in. She hasn’t woken yet.”
When she stepped into the cabin, Hannah’s gaze flew to the little form on the pallet of blankets, but it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room.
A blanket had been pulled over the girl’s body, and for a horrible second, Hannah’s mind told her the worst had happened. But then she saw the tiny round face at the end of the covers. That face still held color.
Her feet moved forward before she could tell them to. But as she began to kneel beside the girl, Hannah’s gaze slid down to her injured leg. The blanket lay limp from the knee down where the bulky splint had been just an hour before.
Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it down. Forced her focus back to the girl’s sweet face. She stroked a soft cheek.
“When will she wake up?” Nathaniel’s voice rumbled just behind her.
Hannah held her breath for the answer but didn’t shift her focus from the child.
“Should be within the quarter hour. She’ll be groggy for a while. And thirsty, but she should only have little sips of water at first so it doesn’t come back up.”
Hannah swallowed. “Will she be in a lot of pain?” How could she not be?
“Not much while the chloroform is still in her system. Her body will still be recovering from the infection, so we’ll be working to bring the fever down. The leg will hurt at times, as though the injured part is still there. It won’t be easy on her.”
Hannah looked up at the doctor’s face, trying to take in the full meaning of his words. “But she’ll live?” She had to hear the verdict directly from him.
His eyes took on a gentleness she wanted to cling to. “She has a better chance now. But we’ll have to see how she does over the next day or two.”
A whimper brought Hannah’s gaze down to the girl. Itu shifted her head. Hannah stroked the hair away from her face. “Are you ready to wake up, sweet one?”
Someone moved behind her, and a cup of water appeared by Hannah’s side. It was another minute or two before the girl’s eyes opened and her vision seemed to focus. She locked her gaze on Hannah, and Hannah didn’t move away from her. Just stayed, holding her hand, stroking her arm or face or hair.
After a few more minutes, she was able to help Itu drink some water. The effort seemed to exhaust the girl, proving once more how little strength her body had left.
They would work on that, though. Everything that could be done to help this sweet child, she would do.
But God would have to handle the real work. Lord, save her. Please. You have to. Surely the loving God she served wouldn’t take this innocent child so soon.
Chapter Fourteen
’Tis like finding my way in the dark.
~ Hannah
Nathaniel hesitated at the cabin door the next morning. Should he knock first?
Hannah and her father had volunteered to stay the night with Itu. And the doctor had offered as well. For propriety’s sake, Nathaniel slept in the barn, but so many times he’d almost crept to the house to check
on the girl.
Had she slept any better than the past few nights? Her fever had still raged through the evening, and he wasn’t sure how much more her little body could take.
Help her, God. Please. Did the Almighty even hear these prayers he’d been sending up? He’d gone to church with his ma and grandma most of his life, but during his cavalry days, they weren’t often settled in one place on Sundays for a chapel service. And even then, he’d not been very diligent to attend.
If he could go back and change that, he would. Anything to help God listen to him now.
Not for me, Lord. For that little girl.
He tugged on the latch string and eased the door open a crack, then paused to take in the scene as the sounds of light snoring drifted to him.
Itu lay on her bed pallet just as she had for days now. Her face had softened in sleep, a good sign. Maybe they’d fared better this past night than he had the nights before.
His gaze raised to the woman kneeling in front of the hearth, working over the pot. Her position outlined her slender form, the soft curves he could still remember holding yesterday as they’d waited for the surgery to finish.
He was coming to care for her more than he’d ever intended. But how could he not? She was strong and kind and beautiful, and the way she loved and tended this injured Indian girl had stolen his heart.
As though she could hear his thoughts, she turned to look at him.
He pushed the door wider, glancing at the sleeping doctor laid out along one wall. He’d probably learned to take what snatches of sleep he could get any time he could find them. Hannah’s father must have already left the cabin.
Keeping his steps quiet, Nathaniel eased inside and pressed the door shut. Hannah watched him approach, and he studied her face for signs of how the night had gone. Dark shadows haunted her eyes, but her mouth curved a little.
He dropped to his haunches beside her, positioned so he could see both the fire and the sleeping girl. “How are you?” He kept his voice low and searched Hannah’s gaze, those pretty brown eyes that showed him all the way to her soul.
She lowered her gaze, turning back to the pot she’d been working with. “I’m well. Are you ready for coffee?”
This Healing Journey Page 10