A Hero's Heart

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Pulling on his boots, he grimaced. “Let’s hope its nothing.”

  She turned her back and slipped on the black cotton mourning gown she had worn almost every day for the last two months.

  As she turned around, she noticed Wade sitting on the chest, completely dressed, staring at the pallet where they had spent the night exploring each other’s bodies.

  He looked up at her and cleared his throat. “I’ll check on Toby and Grace before I get too busy today. Frank wants me to ride point, so I don’t know when I’ll be in again.”

  With a sinking feeling, Rachel realized that while Becky and Ethan did their dirty gossiping, he would be out blazing the trail, oblivious to all the hurtful comments. She would be the sole target of whispers and snubs.

  She stood up, locking eyes with Wade. “So I’ll be left to deal with all the questions about our marriage.

  “Of course not. But Frank asked me last night to ride point, and I agreed.” Wade grabbed his hat and pushed it down on his head. “Don’t worry about Ethan and Becky. We’ll talk to Frank tonight.”

  Leaning down he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you later.”

  Briskly, he retreated. Did all men run this hot and cold, or was it just Wade? One moment, he was her passionate lover, leading her to expect his declaration of love, and the next he was withdrawn, with no show of feelings for her.

  Last night, he’d spoken no promise of marriage, no whispers of love. In fact, when she’d said he was the only man she cared for, he had said nothing. But, last night, she’d believed his physical response proved his unspoken love.

  This morning she wasn’t so sure.

  Climbing out of the wagon, she held her skirts up to keep from falling. Mary and Wade stood by the tent, whispering.

  Joining them, she asked, “Are Grace and Toby okay?”

  Mary’s eyes were swollen, her nose was red as if she’d been crying. “I don’t think so.” She held a handkerchief up to her eyes and dabbed at them. “I have something to tell the two of you.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Ethan, is gone along with my horse, Nellie. And I haven’t seen Becky this morning, either.”

  Rachel opened the tent and peeked inside to see Grace and Toby lying on their pallets, resting. They looked up at her, their eyes dull with pain.

  The tent was now without all of Becky’s belongings.

  “Her bedroll is missing, and her trunk is open and empty,” Rachel called out behind her before going in to check on the children. She couldn’t help but feel if the two were gone, their disappearance would be a blessing.

  But before she could think about Becky, she had to check on the children. “What’s wrong, Toby,” she asked.

  “I ache all over and my head hurts,” the boy said.

  Rachel put the back of her hand to the child’s forehead. The boy was hot, his cheeks flushed. “I think you should rest in the back of the wagon today.”

  “Oh, Rachel. I’ll feel better in a few minutes. I want to go riding with Wade.”

  “If you feel better this afternoon, you can walk. But this morning, I want you riding inside the wagon,” Rachel said. She reached over, touching the back of her hand to Grace’s forehead, and found the same symptoms.

  “Grace, the same goes for you.”

  The child lay listless upon her bedroll. “All right.”

  Her easy acquiescence alarmed Rachel. Grace wasn’t feeling well if she didn’t argue about being confined.

  Exiting the tent, Rachel found Wade pacing anxiously. “How are the kids?”

  “Mary’s right. They’re running a fever. I’ll keep them in the wagon today.”

  Wade frowned and shook his head. “I better go check and make sure we still have horses.”

  He hurried off toward the animals. She still felt irritated at Wade’s response. Though he played the perfect husband to everyone else, she wanted to hear him voice his true feelings. She needed to hear him say he loved her.

  Rachel held out her arms for Daniel, who eagerly went to her. “I have to tell you I’m ashamed of my sister.”

  “It’s not your fault. And the blame isn’t entirely Becky’s. Ethan made his choice.” A single tear marked Mary’s cheek.

  “Oh, Mary. What can I do to help you?” Rachel felt helpless as she watched Mary’s tears increase.

  “Don’t let this come between us. Continue to be my friend,” she whispered in a broken voice. “Right now, you’re all I have.”

  How could life be so unfair? Mary deserved to be happy, she deserved a good husband and children. Ethan wasn’t worthy of the love of a good woman like her.

  But Mary was strong. She would get over Ethan’s deception. Though the future appeared bleak now, one day she could still find happiness.

  Rachel hugged her friend with her free arm.

  “You’re more like a sister than Becky has ever been. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Mary’s shoulders shook with sobs.

  When her tears had subsided, Rachel asked, “You still want to go to The Dalles?”

  As she stepped back, a small smile emerged on Mary’s face. She gave a queer laugh. “I can go anywhere I please now, can’t I.”

  “You can do whatever you want,” Rachel replied.

  Mary drew her shoulders back, her face resolute. “I’ll reach Oregon without Ethan.”

  * * *

  The last three days, Rachel had watched the children grow continually worse as she and Mary battled against their high fevers, runny noses and coughs. If this was war, they were slowly losing the battle.

  As Rachel stirred a thin broth, the heat from the fire curled the loose hair around her face in disarray. With little or no sleep the last few days, she felt drained, unable to face any more problems or squabbles with Wade for the moment.

  He sat across the fire, his legs stretched out, his arms crossed behind his head. But there seemed to be an edge about him tonight that was previously missing. From the time they’d realized the children’s illnesses were serious, Wade had been remote, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “How are Toby and Grace?” His deep voice was warm and pleasing. Their differences of several days ago seemed petty and insignificant now, yet she worried he would never propose.

  Rachel tucked back a stray lock of hair from her braid and heaved a deep sigh. “Toby appears better, Grace’s fever is still high and Daniel has been fussy and feverish all afternoon. If it’s the measles, all three are coming down with them.

  His eyes were tender as he stared across the fire at her. “You look exhausted.” The look made her want to crawl on his lap and let him hold her until she felt capable of nursing the children once again.

  “I’ll be fine. We have apple preserves and biscuits left if you’re hungry. Or I’ll fix you a bowl of broth.”

  “Making yourself ill won’t help the kids.” He sat up straighter on the bench. “Let me help you care for them.”

  Wade seemed sincere, yet his face was drawn, and he appeared tense and nervous. It was almost as if he wanted to help, but was afraid to. But afraid of what?

  “Mary is worn out from assisting me and dealing with the loss of Ethan,” she said considering the possibility of his help. “I still have to feed Daniel and Grace.”

  “Give Daniel to me. I’ll feed him,” Wade said reluctantly.

  As irritable as Daniel was, Rachel figured he would send Wade packing.

  “Why don’t you feed Grace?” she suggested.

  He lifted his chin and met her gaze, with a steady stare. “I know how to take care of babies.”

  Wade’s odd reaction piqued her interest. “How did you learn about babies while living in a brothel?”

  He scowled. “I took care of my two brothers and sister.”

  “You mother raised four of you in a cathouse?” The moment the question slipped off her tongue, she regretted her curiosity. His family was none of her business.

  “No. I was the only one who lived in the brothel with m
y father. We all lived in a house in town until my mother died.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I never should have said that. But I had no idea your mother had died when you were so young.”

  “I was twelve.” He paused while the information settled over her.”When mother died, she asked me to take care of Michael, Sarah and Walker.”

  Rachel didn’t know what to say. “How nice to have a big family. Do you get to see them often?”

  His features tightened, and the lines around his mouth grew taut. “Except for Walker, they’re all dead.” His voice dropped to a lifeless monotone. “Died a year after my mother.”

  The spoon in Rachel’s hand almost fell into the soup. Dead. They were all dead, except for a brother. For a moment she felt dizzy watching the broth swirl around the inside of the pot. How young he’d been when he’d lost almost everyone he loved.

  “You’ve seen so much death. How painful for you at such a young age.” She wanted to rush to his side and wrap her arms around him, comfort him; but she sensed that Wade would resist any consolation from her.

  “I managed,” Wade replied gruffly.

  “When did you lose Walker?”

  “I haven’t seen him since he was five.” Wade paused, clenching his fist. His voice became harsh and strident. “After Sarah and Michael died, my father turned Walker over to an orphanage, where he was adopted.

  She stopped stirring the broth, unable to comprehend the cruelty of such an act. “Your father gave him up? But why?”

  Wade shrugged. “Pa got into debt and sold the house to save the saloon. I was old enough, to help with the business. Walker was too young to work, so Pa gave him away.”

  The horror of his father’s action washed over Rachel, leaving her sickened.

  “Pa knew how to run a saloon, but his heart was cold enough to give a boy frostbite. So you see I have lots of experience with children, both good and bad,” he said, his voice flat.

  “That’s why you didn’t want anything to do with the children when we first met,” Rachel said quietly. “It wasn’t because you disliked them; you were afraid of becoming attached to them.”

  He closed his eyes, his voice so soft she had to strain to hear him. “Maybe. When I look at Grace, she reminds me so much of my sister, Sarah, my chest near bursts with pain.”

  “The only person I’ve lost to death was my mother, and now my father. But to watch a child die…” Rachel sensed the tears building behind her eyes.

  “They were so ill, and I was young and stupid. I didn’t know what to do to help them. I prayed for help to come. Only death showed up.”

  “What happened?” Rachel asked, afraid of the truth.

  The bleakness of his eyes echoed a boy’s devastating loss. “I held them in my arms and slowly watched them die. Then I laid them down and cursed your God.”

  For a moment Rachel was stunned. Until she realized that young Wade had been severely hurt. She brushed dampness off her cheek. “I understand why you would feel that way.”

  “I was thirteen years old and everyone I loved had been taken from me.” Wade’s voice rose. “I wanted to die with them.”

  It was all Rachel could do to walk slowly to Wade’s side and simply lay a hand on his shoulder. She wanted to hold him against her breast, smooth the lock of hair from his face and wipe away his pain.

  Instead, she settled for a comfort he might accept. “What happened was horrible. But it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Try telling that to a thirteen-year-old kid.” Wade took a deep breath. “It’s still with me.”

  “And always will be.” Returning to the fire, she scooped the steaming broth into bowls. His words wrenched her heart, yet they explained so much about his reactions to the children, even to herself. “You can’t change what happened. Knowing the man, I’m sure the boy did the best he could.”

  He didn’t respond. She sensed his withdrawal, as he suddenly realized how much he’d revealed.

  “I’ll be back,” she promised, as she carried the bowls to the tent. Wade had to find forgiveness within himself.

  A moment later, she returned, holding a fussing Daniel, whom she promptly thrust into Wade’s arms.

  “Your mother obviously trusted your skills in caring for your brothers and sister. It’s time you put them to use.”

  The astonishment on Wade’s face as she left him holding a crying Daniel proved she had done the right thing. At this moment, the baby and the man needed each other to heal.

  * * *

  A baby’s insistent crying seeped into Wade’s subconscious, waking him from a sound sleep. He knew immediately the cries came from Daniel as he reached over, patting the quilt beside him, realizing Rachel had never come to bed.

  An uneasy feeling of déjà vu and fear crept over him. Quickly, he dressed and left the wagon, crossing the short distance to the tent in the darkness.

  This was the time of night when shadows came alive and death stalked the earth. Hair prickled along his neck, and he was struck by an urgency to hurry to reach the shelter, to reach Rachel.

  Jerking back the flap of the tent, he was confronted by his worst nightmare. Toby’s skin was speckled with a rash that seemed to connect in red blotchy patches. Grace lay listless, her eyes closed, each breath a wheezing, gasping struggle.

  Daniel fussed as Rachel laid cold clothes against his flushed body. Wade felt he had stepped back in time. The faces were different, but the symptoms were the same.

  “Christ, why didn’t you call me,” he demanded as he rushed to Rachel’s side.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes red with fatigue. “I’ve been a little busy.”

  Standing beside her, he asked, “Where’s Mary?”

  “In bed. Earlier, Daniel wasn’t this bad. She was exhausted, so I sent her to bed.” Her voice was tired and anxious.

  Picking up one of the damp clothes from the bucket of water, Wade twisted out excess moisture before laying it against the baby. “Didn’t you think I would help?”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “I didn’t have time to get you. Toby’s been taking care of Grace, while I tended to Daniel.”

  Putting the back of his hand against Daniel’s forehead, Wade exclaimed, “His fever is too high. We’ve got to get it down.”

  “Don’t you think I know that! What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Rachel sounded almost hysterical.

  Wade ignored her outburst. The memory of Sarah’s fever climbing until she became unresponsive spurred him into action. He picked up the bucket she’d been using. ““I’ll get cold creek water; then we’ll bathe him.”

  “You’re not putting this baby in icy water. The damp cloths I’m using will bring the fever down.” She continued her unceasing vigil.

  “How long have you been using the cloths on him?”

  Pushing back a stray lock of hair, she said, “I don’t know. Since before everyone went to bed.”

  “It’s close to dawn, Rachel. His fever is only getting worse. If we don’t bring it down, it could kill him.”

  “But ice water!” Her eyes pleaded with him. “It could make him sicker.”

  “What kind of chance do you think he has now?”

  Rachel glanced at Daniel who had stopped fussing. His eyes rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness. In horror, she watched as his limbs began to twitch and jerk. She picked him up, and held him close.

  “Do something, Wade!” she cried, her voice full of panic. “Help him.”

  “We’ve got to cool him off!” Running out of the tent, Wade hurried to the creek and filled the bucket with water flowing from the mountains. He’d seen a doctor do this to a whore’s child to bring fever down, but the man had also used chunks of ice. All Wade had was the cold creek water.

  Stepping into the tent, he set the bucket down on the ground and took Daniel from Rachel’s arms. The twitching and jerking had stopped, but still the tot lay listless, his eyes closed.

  As Daniel sank into the ice w
ater, his body jerked sluicing cold water over his limbs. He awoke with a start and began to cry, yet he didn’t fight them. His body shook and his lips turned blue.

  Wade spoke gently to the baby, trying to calm him, but Daniel wailed, tears running down his face.

  Kneeling beside him, Rachel ran a soothing hand across the baby’s brow. “Is he getting cooler?

  “His body feels cooler, but I don’t know if the fever has broken,” Wade replied, cupping the cold water and running it down Daniel’s naked body.

  “You can’t leave that baby in there much longer,” Rachel cried, her voice rising with anxiety.

  “Just another few minutes,” Wade responded. “Get a dry blanket ready.”

  He wanted to leave Daniel in longer, but knew Rachel could not endure seeing the baby suffer, even though what they were doing should bring the fever down. She picked up the blanket she had wrapped Daniel in earlier.

  “Give him to me,” she demanded.

  “It’s barely been five minutes. Give it a little longer,” Wade said, sponging the baby’s heated skin.

  “His lips are blue, and he’s shivering to death. Give him to me now!” she insisted.

  Wade handed a wet dripping Daniel to Rachel.

  Wrapping him tightly in the blanket, Rachel sat on the pallet and began to rock. Soon, Daniel’s lips returned to a normal tone, his cheeks seemed to have more color, yet he lay lethargic upon Rachel’s breast.

  After an hour, Wade whispered, “Does he feel warm?”

  Rachel laid the back of her hand against the sleeping baby’s forehead. “He seems cooler.”

  Picking up the lantern, Wade held it high above Daniel’s head. In the glow of the lantern, faint red spots could be seen forming on the toddler’s head and neck. Wade reached down and felt the boy’s forehead to reassure himself, the fever had cooled.

  Daniel’s skin felt warm to the touch, but not the burning hot like before. Still, Wade waited another hour and then checked the boy again. This time the baby’s skin felt normal.

  A feeling of euphoria overwhelmed Wade, giving him a sense of victory. They’d cheated death from taking another child. Though he’d lost the battle before, this time he had been victorious. A weight he’d carried around for years seemed to lift from his shoulders.