She turned to find him staring. Her lips turned upward in a tentative smile.
Jerking to his feet, Sam handed her the empty bowl. “Thank you, Yellow Bird. The meal was tasty.”
He turned his footsteps toward Miss Sadie’s wagon. If anyone had the answers he was looking for, it would be the widow.
The creek rippled along a rocky bed as Brian and Tim stood side by side under the light of a half moon. The wind coming down from the Rockies caused a chill in the air, but Tim didn’t feel a thing. The only thought he could concentrate on was that Indian woman with her dirty hands on his little girl while she screamed for her pa.
“We both know what we gotta do,” he said.
“I don’t know.” Brian’s tone was hesitant, which infuriated Tim. Now wasn’t the time to get soft on the subject and change their minds.
“You want your sister to become a whore for some Cheyenne buck?”
Tim didn’t even see the blow coming until he was on the ground staring up at the enraged young farmer.
“Don’t ever talk about my sister that way again, you hear me?”
“Now you listen to me, Brian. I don’t mean to be disrespectful of her. It ain’t her fault she was taken by them savages any more than it was my Janey’s fault. But you got to be realistic.” At the risk of another punch hitting its mark, Tim continued, despite the warning in Brian’s eyes. “That sister of yours is a right handsome woman. If we don’t get her back soon, some Indian man is going to see the same thing and want her for his squaw.”
“All right. You got a point. But don’t ever call her a whore again. Is that clear?”
“I was out of line with that,” Tim said, feigning contrition. “Now, let’s figure out how we’re gonna get this done.”
Amanda had remained silent through most of the meal, her few smiles reserved for Alfred or Wolf. As much as Toni hated to admit it, the woman seemed to be descending into a darkness that Toni couldn’t pull her out of. Despicable as he’d been, Mr. Kane had obviously known how fragile his wife had become. Toni had no doubt that losing that puppy back then might have sent her into insanity. As it was, the betrayal found in the pages of Lucille Adams’s diary seemed to be more than poor Amanda could reconcile in her mind. The look in her eyes seemed almost vacant at times, as though she couldn’t quite comprehend the sights, sounds, and smells going on about her.
Toni tried to draw her out as much as possible, but the past few days had been challenging. She barely spoke, barely ate. Toni felt helpless. Useless.
Father, what good am I to anyone if I can’t even help my friend through this pain?
Toni slipped her hands into the dishwater and began scrubbing. Behind her Amanda moved and Toni turned to find her friend on her feet, heading away from the wagon. “Amanda, wait,” she called. “Where are you going?”
“To the creek.”
“You can’t go alone.”
“I’m not. I’m meeting Ginger.”
Irritated, but relieved that she wouldn’t be alone, Toni nodded. “All right. But it’s chilly tonight. I wouldn’t try to swim.”
Amanda waved her away, leaving Toni feeling sheepishly like a mother hen. But truly, they could catch their deaths of cold if they tried to swim in the chilly waters this time of night.
Though it was barely August, the higher the travelers climbed in elevation, the cooler the nights were becoming. Just this morning, they had awakened to find frost on the ground. And the snow-capped peaks were all around them on the horizon. So despite the rugged terrain and craggy slopes, at least there was less heat to contend with.
Toni finished the dishes in just a few minutes and sat on the wagon tongue to enjoy a cup of coffee before retiring for the evening. As she replayed Amanda’s words and actions in her mind she became more suspicious. At the precise moment she planned to go after her friend, Ginger walked into their camp.
“Where’s Amanda?” Toni asked.
“Ain’t she here?” Ginger poured a cup of coffee. “I can’t be looking out for her all the time.”
“Where have you been?”
“Playing poker with a couple of the hands.”
The hands were unmarried men headed out west to work on ranches. And Ginger liked to sit around with them spinning tales and playing cards. Toni had warned her against getting a bad reputation, but the young woman didn’t seem to care what folks thought about her.
“Where’s Amanda?”
“That’s the second time you asked me that.” Ginger gave a huff. “How’m I supposed to know where she’s at?”
Knots formed in Toni’s gut. She snatched her shawl from the wagon and yanked Ginger along with her. “We have to go find her.”
“Yow! Don’t pull my arm off.” She stopped short. “Wait a minute. You tellin’ me Amanda’s missing?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that she said she was meeting you and the two of you were going to the creek.”
“Do you know how dadblamed cold it is in that water?” she asked with incredulity. “Why would I be that dumb?”
Toni shrugged. “She caught me off guard while I was working on the dishes. Said the two of you were going.”
“You think she lied to you?”
Now she was starting to understand. “It would appear so.”
“Well, I best go find her before she wanders into the creek and gets herself drowned.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you ain’t. You can just stay right here where you won’t get kidnapped by that Indian.”
Toni couldn’t help a little laugh. “Oh, Ginger, for mercy’s sake. You know Swooping Eagle isn’t anywhere near this place.”
“I don’t know anything of the kind, and neither do you.”
That much was true. Still, Toni had to believe that since the Indians hadn’t returned after all this time, that had to be a good sign of something. At any rate, she fervently prayed so.
“You stay here and wait for me,” Ginger said again. “I’ll go find Amanda.”
But Toni was firm. “If she felt the need to lie to me in order to go off alone, there must be something wrong with her.”
“You just figuring that out?”
Toni hated the coldness in Ginger’s tone. “No. But I’d hoped she’d start to pull out of it instead of going deeper.”
“Well, let’s go, if you’re determined to come along.”
They found her at the creek.
“Toni, are you seein’ what I’m seein’?”
Bewilderment washed over Toni and she couldn’t seem to move. Amanda’s clothes were on the ground. She stood naked in the moonlight, her arms in the air as she spun around and around.
“What in tarnation does she think she’s doing?”
“Obviously she doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Heartsick, Toni shook her head and fought back tears. “Oh, Ginger, she must be going mad.”
“Maybe we oughtta go get her before she hurts herself,” Ginger said. “I knew a man once lost his mind grievin’ over his dead wife and son when cholera got ’em. He ran off into the river and drowned hisself just like that.”
“Let’s go.” Toni moved with caution. “Be careful not to startle her. We don’t know what she might do if we come up on her too quickly.”
Moving with care, they reached the woman. “Amanda,” Toni called softly. “It’s Ginger and Toni. We’re here to help you.”
Amanda burst into tears at the sight of them. She fell into Toni’s arms. “Help me.”
Toni’s heart twisted with compassion at the slurred cry for help. She stroked the woman’s hair and prayed.
“Come on,” she finally said, “let’s get you out of this cold air.” Amanda didn’t even fight when the two women grabbed her clothes, helped her dress, and led her back to camp where they put her to bed. They slipped back outside the wagon and sat together on the ground against a wagon wheel.
“Should we tell anyone?” Ginger asked.
Bewildered by the
whole thing, Toni shook her head. “I don’t know.” If Amanda came to her senses soon, she would be humiliated. But if there was any chance she might be a danger to herself or anyone else, didn’t they have a responsibility to let others know?
Twenty-One
Blake cursed the day he’d decided to take one more wagon train of pioneers to Oregon. He should have left it at the last one like he’d intended and then he wouldn’t be having all of these troubles. In the privacy of their tent, he said as much to his wife.
“You wouldn’t have me either,” Fannie reminded him dryly. She lay in his arms outside of the wagon that Kip and Katie shared. Her hair tickled his cheek, but he didn’t mind. As a matter of fact, he sort of liked the feeling.
“You’re the only thing good about my life these days,” he grumped.
“Poor Amanda.” Fannie’s voice rang with compassion. “What can we do for her?”
“I’ve half a mind to leave her at Fort Bridger when we get there.”
Fannie sat up, her red curls cascading down her shoulder and landing on Blake’s chest. “You can’t be serious.”
“I said I’ve half a mind.” He grinned and pulled her back to his shoulder where she belonged. “The other half remembers that my wife would never speak to me again if I did it.”
“You best listen to that half. Because it’s right.” Fannie fell silent but her breathing never shallowed, so he knew she wasn’t asleep.
“Anything else on your mind?”
“No.” She took a sharp breath, and Blake held his tongue knowing she was about to speak again. “Well, more of what we’re already discussing, really.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t think much of this until now, but Katie told me earlier that Amanda has been calling her Becca for a couple of days.”
Blake frowned into the darkness. “What do you reckon that means?”
“I’m not sure, but if she’s losing her mind, she might be imagining that Katie is Becca. On the other hand, she might just be thinking a lot about her daughter these days, and since Katie and Becca were so close maybe she’s just misspeaking by accident.”
“Could be. Never can be too careful, though.”
“You’re right. I think I might want to keep a closer eye on my younger sister.”
Blake expelled a breath. “I’ll set up a pallet for her on the other side of the tent. You go ahead and get her.”
Fannie sat up again and stared down at him. “Thank you, Blake. We’ll have all the privacy you want as soon as we get to Oregon and you build me that fine cabin you’re always talking about.”
“The one with our bedroom at one end and the twins’ at the other?”
Laughter bubbled to her slender throat. “If that’s what it’ll take to keep you happy, then build the rooms wherever you want.” She lowered her head and kissed him. When she would have drawn back, Blake held her firm and kissed her more deeply. He pulled back and reached up, shoving her springy curls behind her delicate ears. “I love you, Mrs. Tanner.”
Her smile said it all, but still she whispered in the darkness, “And I love you.”
Charles Harrison watched from a distance as poor Mrs. Kane struggled to pull herself together enough to stir the pot of beans she was watching for supper. He wished he had the gumption to ask if she could use his help, but women were so sensitive about their abilities in the kitchen, he didn’t want to offend.
She stumbled toward the pot and would have rocked into the fire if she hadn’t caught herself just in time to jerk herself upright. The close call was enough for Charles. He strode forward, then stopped as Amanda pulled something from her apron pocket and tipped it to her lips.
Was the woman drinking? If so, that would explain her bizarre behavior of late. He’d noticed the staring, silence, and absences from camp. He understood, or thought he did, the way grief could change a person. After all, he’d left his two children to fend for themselves for the most part after his wife’s death. He’d been surly and unkind in his grief. But that hadn’t lasted long. And truth be told, Mrs. Kane’s sweet acceptance of Alfred made a large contribution to his return to himself. If there was anything he could do for her, he wanted to repay her kindness.
He frowned as she, once again, tipped what looked to be a bottle, to her mouth. As he neared the campsite, the acrid smell of smoke stung his nose. He glanced at the pot of beans Amanda stood over but they seemed fine. With a frown, he glanced around, searching for the source of the burning. In an instant, his heart nearly stopped beating as a flame engulfed the bottom of Amanda’s skirt.
Scrambling to action, Charles barreled against her, knocking her to the ground and covering her with his own body. He barely felt the burning as the fire slowly faded away. Folks hurried over until a crowd had gathered.
“What happened?” Sam asked. He was closely followed by the little Indian woman. She went to Amanda immediately and stooped down next to her.
“Her skirt caught fire,” Charles explained.
Sam frowned and pointed to Charles’s stomach. “What happened there?”
Charles looked down and saw the blood and the shard of glass protruding from him. He glanced at Amanda, but she remained oblivious. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you best go see Grant Kelley. He’s the one who seems to know how to fix everyone up.”
Charles hesitated. “It doesn’t seem to be that bad. I could probably…”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Harrison,” Toni said. “We’ll take care of Amanda. You go on and have Grant take a look at your wound.” Her eyes pleaded with him and Charles realized he wasn’t the only one noticing Mrs. Kane’s odd behavior.
“All right, Miss Toni,” he said. “I’ll be back later to see how she’s getting on.”
“Perhaps you should wait until in the morning. She has been exhausted lately and I fear she’ll be asleep very soon.”
Although he knew he wouldn’t sleep a wink for worrying about the woman, Charles knew he had no choice. “Morning, then.”
“Come for breakfast and bring the children.”
He appreciated her gesture and would have smiled, but the pain was beginning to intensify in his stomach. He placed his hand over the wound and it came away with more blood than he’d realized. “I-I better go find Mr. Kelley.”
“Wait a minute. That’s a lot worse than it first appeared to be.” Sam grabbed his arm. “I’ll get you to your wagon.” He turned to Kip. “Go get Grant.”
“Yes, Sir.” The lad took off, lickety split.
Pain sliced through Charles’s abdomen as he opened his eyes and winced. Grant Kelley sat next to his pallet. “You got me all fixed up?”
“As long as you’re still for a couple of days, you should be good as new. I had to stitch you up.” Grant looked at him intently. “You want to tell me how part of a glass bottle got in your belly?”
Charles shook his head. He had his suspicions but wasn’t about to voice them aloud. “I can’t tell you any more than you can tell me, I’m afraid. I stood up and there it was.”
“After you put out the fire on Mrs. Kane’s dress.”
“That’s right.” Charles gave an uneven breath. “There must have been a bottle on the ground.”
“That would be unusual, especially in Toni’s campsite, don’t you think?”
Charles frowned. “Look, I told you all I know. Are you accusing me of something?”
Grant gave him a frank stare. “Have you anything to confess?”
“What for instance?”
“I don’t know. But unless I miss my guess, the part of a bottle I found in you came from laudanum. You know anything about that?”
Charles shook his head. “Laudanum? Not whiskey?”
“Whiskey?” Grant shook his head. “Different shape and size. You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
“You sure you’re not accusing me of anything?”
A grin tipped Grant’s lips. “I’m sure. It’s pre
tty obvious you didn’t know what sort of bottle ended up in your gut.”
“No, I saw her drinking something just before her skirt caught fire, but I thought it was whiskey.” Charles frowned again. “She’s an awfully good woman. Been through too much in too short of a time. I wouldn’t want to see her looked down on because of this.”
Grant patted the man on the shoulder. “Neither would I. I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. But I’ll have to tell Blake what’s going on. Addiction to laudanum is pretty severe. We just have to hope she’s not been taking it long and she shouldn’t have too much trouble.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“You rest and stay in bed until I tell you otherwise. Then maybe you’ll be useful when she really needs someone to be a friend.”
“When’s that?”
“When she has to start remembering that her children and her husband are dead. Without the laudanum to dull her senses, she’ll need all the friends she can get.”
Charles watched him leave. His thoughts came to rest on the pretty widow. He’d hoped perhaps, when they reached Oregon, she might consider a marriage for convenience sake. He needed a wife and the children needed a woman’s touch. But how could he even consider making a proposal to a woman in such desperate need of help? Or perhaps God had sent him for just that purpose. To help her heal.
Toni barely slept. Why did that Indian girl have to be so handy with bear grease to slather on Amanda’s burns? Where had she gotten it anyway? She’d only been traveling with them for a little over a week. As much as Toni had insisted she could take care of Amanda, the Indian girl had insisted just as much that she would be the one to care for the burns.
Who did she think she was?
Even now, when the stench of the grease nearly drove Toni from the wagon, she wasn’t about to go and leave this Yellow Bird creature alone with her friend.
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