Dangerous Heart

by Tracey Bateman

  Fannie gave a weary smile. “It’s all right.”

  Grant’s instincts as a doctor kicked in as he searched Fannie’s pale face. “You sick, Fannie?”

  She nodded, her face blooming with color. “A little.”

  Grant walked across the rocky soil. He reached out and tested the temperature of her skin. “You’re not feverish, but it’s obvious you’re not well. You’d better stay away from the water detail until we’re sure you’re not carrying cholera.”

  “I don’t think this is cholera, I’ve been sick for a few days. This will most likely pass in a little while.”

  He assessed the situation: Ginger coming back for Fannie’s buckets; the young bride ill, but sure it would pass in a little while; and finally, he wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

  “Oh…” he said.

  Fannie, Ginger, and Toni all three glanced sharply at him.

  “You’re with child.”

  Ginger glared at him. “I thought I told you no questions.”

  “That, my girl,” he said, taking the yoke from her, “was a statement of fact, not a question.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ginger demanded, making a grab for the water.

  “Stop it. You’re going to dump the buckets.” Grant stepped back and slid the yoke across his own shoulders. “You’ve already carried water today. I’ll take this one.”

  Taking a deep breath, Ginger apparently decided to give up. She tossed him a glare. “Thanks,” she said through teeth clenched so tightly, it really didn’t sound like a word at all. Grant grinned.

  They walked in silence. When they reached the edge of camp, he turned to find her face was white as a boll of cotton. “Ginger. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  “It’s Web,” she whispered. Grant set the water on the ground and took her arm. “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense. What about a spider’s web?”

  She gave a vehement shake of her head. “Not a spider’s web. Web! The man talking with Blake.” She nodded toward the wagon master who was, indeed, speaking with a stranger.

  “Who is he?”

  She turned her dread-filled gaze on him. “Grant,” she whispered. “He’s my pa, and I’m pretty sure he’s got cholera, too.”

  Seven

  Ginger would have chosen to be anywhere but sitting at Blake’s camp, trying to decide how much truth to tell. Web would kill her if she ratted him out. Besides, to sell out Web would also be selling out Buddy and herself. And she couldn’t do that to her brother. Blake stared at her, his eyes filled with accusation.

  She swallowed hard. “I told you I saw my pa. I guess he got to worrying about Buddy and decided to look for him. It wouldn’t take an experienced tracker much to figure out Buddy’s here.”

  “And that’s all there is to it? Your pa won’t be making any trouble?”

  Oh, she wanted to tell him to lock up any valuables and keep an eye on Web, but that information would dredge up all kinds of questions that she couldn’t answer. Not yet anyway. Not until Buddy was safe, and she could take her brother and run away.

  “I never speak for my pa, Blake. I’d like to assure you that he won’t cause trouble, but if he does I’d be considered a liar and you’d think I betrayed you.”

  His eyebrows went up at her words. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  “The best I can say is keep an eye on him.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Is that all?”

  Blake nodded. “I’m going to ask you to do something.”

  Ginger waited, she wasn’t used to people asking her anything. Especially the men in charge around here. “Yeah?”

  “Keep an eye on your pa. I’m not asking you to spy on him and report back to me. But I think you’ve made enough friends in this wagon train that you wouldn’t want any harm to come to anyone.” He released a breath. “Grant doesn’t think Web’s got cholera. If he does, his symptoms aren’t the same as other folks’. So I’m going to put him on water detail to take Fannie’s place.”

  Ginger’s emotions warred inside of her. In part, she felt pride that Blake trusted her. But it meant she had to put up with Web, and that didn’t sit well with her.

  But she had no choice. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will. You can go now.”

  Web had weaseled his way into the wagon train, pretending to be a loving pa, concerned for his wayward daughter and poor, ill son who had run off after his sister. It had been two full days of riding the trail hard, and all Ginger had wanted was to stay as far away from him as possible. If only Blake hadn’t made that impossible.

  Tempers were short, muscles ached, and the rocks were unforgiving. Sagebrush bit at the emigrant legs and annoyed the animals. Still, Blake pushed on with new fervor, allowing for no unnecessary stops and keeping the wagons rolling two hours past the time he normally did. He offered no apology and no explanation other than the obvious—that the train was already behind schedule and unless they pushed harder than they ever pushed, they’d be trapped by snow in the mountains and would likely all die before the spring thaw. The illness brought to the pioneers by Buddy had started to run its course. Buddy was still weak, but seemed better.

  Darkness was setting in earlier these days, so not only did Ginger have to carry the yoke around her neck fetching water, but a lantern as well. Blake had ordered her to take Web along, so she could no longer avoid her pa.

  It seemed that Blake felt like it might be providential, Web showing up the same day Fannie was forced off the water detail, so Web filled the slot immediately, much to Ginger’s annoyance.

  “I’m starting to see why you like these people,” Web said. “They’re the real salt of the earth. Sort of makes a man want to mend his ways and settle down into a respectable life.”

  But Ginger wasn’t falling for it. So far, he’d remained silent about his reasons—his true ones—for joining the train, introducing himself as her and Buddy’s pa, but Ginger knew what he was after. “You’re right. They are good people, Web. You should remember that.”

  As though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said, he glanced across the camp, staring at Fannie and Toni as they sat sharing coffee at Fannie’s fire. “You’re smart enough to make friends with the right folks anyway. I’m right proud of ya.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure ya do. The wagon master’s wife and the half-breed’s sweetheart.”

  The way he said, “half-breed” set Ginger’s teeth on edge. “Don’t talk about Sam like that.”

  “Like whut?”

  She looked at him askance.

  Web’s brow scrunched. “Ain’t that what he is?”

  Releasing a quick puff of air, Ginger shook her head in disgust. “He might be half-Sioux, but he’s a good man and deserves respect.”

  “There ain’t gonna ever come a day when I respect any breed.”

  Finally, his true self was showing up. It was about time. Now Ginger could start poking around for the truth. “What are you really doing here, Web?”

  “I told you, I’m going straight. No more robbin’.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Part of her wished he was telling the truth, but every ounce of common sense told her otherwise. “What is it?”

  His gaze narrowed. “What do you know about Mr. Harrison?”

  Ginger gasped. “This is all about Mr. Harrison?”

  Giving up all pretense, Web’s hand shot out and gripped her forearm. “What do you know about the money?”

  “Only that you’re after it, if it exists.”

  “It exists. I saw that wagon master loading it for Harrison when they set out from that one-horse town of Hawkins, Kansas. Also noticed a false bottom on Harrison’s wagon, so I reckon he mighta moved the money box from the supply wagon to his own.”

  Ginger’s jaw dropped with horror. “That’s the real reason you didn’t put up a fight about me going after the train, isn’t it? You me
ant to follow it and rob these people anyway. You never cared about making anyone pay for Clem’s death.”

  He beamed as though she’d been the one to come up with the idea in the first place. “You always was the smart one. Take after your ma that way. Be glad you don’t take after her in other ways.”

  Ginger rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was for him to start talking about the woman who had left him for another man so many years ago. “If you saw a money box, why did you wait so long to come after the train? You said three months. I figured you’d decided against coming after me.”

  “We had the law on us. Had to split up for a while. But when we met up a few weeks ago, I said, ‘Fellas, how about we go after that wagon train? And I bet we’ll find my little girl close by.’ ’Course, I never thought you’d’ve joined up with them like you done.”

  “I told you,” she said keeping her voice low. “I didn’t join up with anyone. But I like the idea of settling in Oregon.”

  He sent her a fierce scowl. “What would a lone girl do in Oregon?”

  She shrugged because this was the first time she’d truly considered the possibility. “File a claim.”

  Web threw back his head and laugh from his belly. “You mean to tell me you think you’re going to become a farmer? Get it out of your head, gal. I told you already, I’m gonna be needin’ a female for the next plan I got in mind.”

  Ginger’s stomach churned at the implication that she would have no choice but to leave the wagon train folks and rejoin Web.

  “The thing I have most in my head right now is Buddy being so sick, Web. I’m worried about him.”

  Web’s head nodded grimly. “He’s bad off. That’s the truth.”

  “What about you, Web? You seemed so sick that first day. What happened?”

  He gave a laugh. “I’m too wicked to be sick for long.”

  He was wicked, that was for sure, but Ginger knew better than to attribute his health to that fact. “Be serious, Web.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel sick, and other times I don’t.”

  “Miss Sadie has had cholera before, and Grant says that makes her not likely to get it again. Have you ever had it?”

  “No.”

  Footsteps crunched over the dried leaves on the ground, and Web and Ginger turned to find Elijah headed toward them through the brush.

  Web practically growled at the newcomer. “What are you doin’ away from camp, Elijah?”

  “I came to tell you that Murray died this morning. And three more of the men have come down with cholera.” His eyes scrutinized Web. “I can see you’ve come through it without much illness at all, but it’s sweeping through your men back at camp.”

  The way Elijah eyed Web, Ginger wondered for the first time if maybe her pa had been faking it all along or if Elijah suspected it anyway.

  “What do you expect me to do about it?”

  “Web!” Ginger said. “You’re their leader. If they’re afraid, they need you.”

  Elijah nodded his approval. “Your daughter is right. The men are afraid. Some are talking about leaving.”

  Web shrugged his meaty shoulders. “I don’t force no one to stay.”

  Except for me, Ginger thought ruefully. Besides, if the men dispersed, they could spread cholera across the entire territory. “Web, the men could end up at one of the forts or any number of friendly Indian villages. Not to mention the wagon trains.”

  “Well, that’s their choice, ain’t it?”

  Elijah caught Ginger’s gaze, and it seemed as though his frown was more of concern than anger. For an outlaw, he did seem to have some scruples. “That’s not the point,” he said. “Ginger is saying, plainly, the men could end up spreading out in all directions. They could infect hundreds of people. They need your leadership to get them to stay put. I’m starting to feel sick, myself. If I have it, I won’t be able to help very much longer.”

  “Well, that’s too bad. I got other things to do.”

  Ginger turned to Elijah. “What they need is a doctor. Do you have any quinine in camp?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “All right. I can try to get some. But I don’t know if Grant will part with any. He’s worried about the wagon train.”

  Elijah nodded. “And a sorry band of outlaws isn’t likely to be on his list of priorities.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ginger said. “But he’s a good man; he might share some if he realizes how fast it’s spreading.”

  Web reached out in a flash and grabbed Ginger’s arm, his fingers biting into the tender flesh. “What do you mean he’s a good man? Lane was right. You have gone soft.”

  Ginger pulled away, emboldened for some reason, by Elijah’s presence. “Maybe I have gone soft in a lot of ways. I don’t know what I think anymore. But no matter what he did back then, he’s a good doctor now. You should have seen the way he saved Yellow Bird’s baby. If anyone will get us through the cholera, it’ll be him.”

  Elijah nodded. “It’s good to know he’s so competent. Hopefully he’s compassionate, as well.”

  “Come back tomorrow and I’ll try to have some quinine for you.”

  Elijah shook his head. “If I wait until tomorrow, half the men will be gone or dead. We need something tonight to give them hope.”

  Ginger’s heart raced at the thought of having to approach Grant. The other alternative was to steal the quinine, but she didn’t feel right about that.

  “We have to get this water back to camp. I’ll find Grant and try to convince him to help. Meet me back here in an hour.”

  “Thank you,” Elijah said. His gaze rested on her for a second. “I overheard your conversation with Web. If you want to go to Oregon, you should.”

  “Mind your own business,” Web growled. “I didn’t raise my daughter to be some farmer.”

  “Farming is a respectable profession, Web. It seems to me that a man would want his children to find something better than he has himself. Especially if that means she isn’t a thief and a liar.”

  Ginger’s heart lifted to hear Elijah’s words. Not that it would do any good as far as Web was concerned. But it was nice to hear someone support her.

  “I’ll be back here in an hour with an answer,” she said.

  Elijah nodded. “I’m obliged.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I might not be able to convince Grant.”

  He turned and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared. Ginger turned to Web. “One thing he said is right, Web.”

  “You takin’ his side, gal?”

  “No. I said there’s one thing he’s right about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The fact is that it’s not good for you to be away from the men right now. They need you. Once this is all over, they won’t have any confidence in you.”

  “You worry too much.” He grinned. “Once I come back with Harrison’s money, I guarantee you no one will think Lane should be leading them yet. Who knows?” He sent her a wink. “Maybe they’ll all die, and you and I won’t have to share with them.”

  Ginger wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not, but horror filled her chest, just the same. “Web. That’s just not right. Those men have followed you for a long time, most of them, you can’t possibly wish them to die.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I knew it. You’re going soft.”

  “Think whatever you want, but you can’t steal Mr. Harrison’s money. He just lost his wife in a twister a few months ago. It’s not right.”

  Web shoved his finger in Ginger’s face. “I’ll decide what’s right and what ain’t. Don’t forget I been taking care of you since you was born. Have I ever done wrong by you, yet?”

  Was he serious? He didn’t consider raising her in a band of thugs and thieves to be slightly wrong? It was no use. She could talk until she was blue in the face and he’d never see reason. Web was just too old and set in his ways.

  “Let’s get the water and head ba
ck to camp,” she said.

  He grabbed hold of her arm. “Don’t you think about double-crossing me, girl.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know. Yer different now. Like one of them. But don’t forget who your family is. That’s all I’m sayin’. Those people would toss you out in the desert all alone if they got wind of what you really are. And wouldn’t that be a real shame if they found out?”

  The veiled threat in his eyes made her heart race. “I don’t plan to double-cross anyone.”

  He nodded and let her go. “Keep it that way.”

  Ginger picked up her buckets and headed toward the water. It hadn’t occurred to her to go against Web. This was what they did. Stealing to live. She didn’t have to like it, but she couldn’t go against her own flesh and blood.

  Guilt squeezed her heart as she was pulled between loyalty to Web and the wagon train folks. For the first time that she could remember, she truly understood what was decent and right, and she didn’t like being on the other side of the issue.

  Web had been right. She was different now. It felt funny. Not good. Suddenly, pulled between her old life and the future she craved in Oregon, Ginger honestly didn’t know where she belonged.

  Ginger went straight to the supply tent when she returned to camp carrying the water. She slipped inside to find Grant there with Buddy.

  “How is he?” she asked, setting the buckets on the floor and stepping forward. His chest rose and fell steadily, and he seemed to be resting more peacefully than he had for two days. “He’s better?”

  Grant nodded. “He’s lucky. He’ll be a little weak for a few days, but I had hope when he didn’t die yesterday that he’d pull through.”

  “You never said anything.”

  Grant stood and offered her his seat next to the pallet. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, just in case I was wrong.”

  Ginger looked down at Buddy. His pale face was sunken, and he looked ten years older than he had three days ago. “Are you sure he’s getting better?”

  Grant rested a warm hand on her shoulder. “Yes. He’s over the worst. He hasn’t been sick in several hours, and he’s kept water down. So it’s a real encouraging sign.”