Gingham Mountain

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Gingham Mountain Page 12

by Mary Connealy


  “What, Pa? I can help.”

  Think. Think. Think. Grant’s heart pounded. He couldn’t catch his breath, driven by fear he needed to control now of all times.

  He inspected Joshua’s battered body. His head and neck were scraped badly, his clothing cut to ribbons. The gash on Joshua’s forehead bled crimson against his son’s coffee-dark skin. It looked like Josh’d been struck over the head. Joshua’s left arm hung at an odd angle. The boy’s heartbeat was weak but steady.

  “I know you can help. There’s just no point telling the girls to go for bandages. We’ll have to get Joshua back to the house.” Grant nodded at the rags of his shirt. “Can you hold this bandage?”

  Benny reached his small hands in and held the cloth.

  “Something else you can both do.” Grant staggered to his feet.

  Benny and Libby looked up.

  “Pray. Joshua needs all our prayers.”

  Libby clutched her hands together and closed her eyes. Her lips moved silently.

  Stomach twisting with dread, Grant eased the broken arm across the boy’s chest. Binding it with remnants of his shirt, Grant jostled his son as little as possible.

  Once the task was done, he dared to breathe again. “Okay, Benny, Lib, I’m going to lift him into the wagon box. I need you to step back.” Grant took over with the bandage.

  Benny put his hand on Libby’s shoulder and the two of them rose to their feet and stepped away.

  Grant bent down. His son was reed thin but muscular from long hours of hard work on the ranch. And he was as tall as a grown man. Grant said a prayer for strength, then slid his arms under Joshua’s shoulders and knees and lifted the boy, grunting with the effort. Doing his best not to disturb the arm, it took every ounce of Grant’s strength to lift him. Grant eased his son onto the wagon bed.

  He turned to the young’uns. “Benny, Libby, hop in. I’m going to start for home. You watch Joshua.”

  Benny boosted Libby up over the side of the wagon. Grant stepped over and hoisted the little girl the last few inches while Benny practically took flight over the edge of the box.

  Grant fastened the tailgate, the hinges creaking as he lifted the flat slab of wood, the metal sounding rusty as he shoved the five-inch-long pins into the iron hooks that held the gate closed. He’d left Joshua close to the back end, to avoid moving him one inch more than necessary.

  Grant vaulted to the wagon seat and gave a tiny shake to the long leather reins, holding the horses to a slow start. They headed toward the Rocking C. The horses had caught Grant’s terror and tried to speed up. Pulling them to a walk, Grant feared every jounce might shake something inside of Josh and kill him. Grant glanced over his shoulder every few steps.

  They met the girls riding toward them. Charlie peeked out from behind Sadie.

  “We found him.” Grant jerked his head toward the wagon. “He’s been hurt.”

  Both girls gasped. Charlie scowled. They rode up beside the wagon.

  “Is he alive?” Marilyn asked sharply.

  Sadie cried out, covered her mouth with one hand, and began to weep softly.

  “He’s alive.” Grant kept driving and praying. “Marilyn, ride to town for Doc Morgan. Tell him to bring his plaster. Josh’s arm looks broken. And get Will and Ian. I may need some help.”

  Marilyn whirled the horse in a tight circle, slapped her reins against the animal’s hindquarters, and tore off, bent low over the roan’s shoulders.

  As she dashed off, it struck Grant again that he shouldn’t let her go off alone. There was danger out here. But the thought came too late. Marilyn was out of sight and out of earshot.

  Sadie rode close, her eyes riveted on Joshua, but Grant had other ideas for her. “Head for the cabin and get some water hot and tear up a sheet. We’ll need to sterilize his wounds, and the quicker the better. The doc will need to sew him up and put a cast on his arm.”

  The look of stubbornness on Sadie’s face surprised Grant. She’d been with him as long as Joshua, and she’d always been the first to lend a hand. Before Grant could repeat his order, Sadie looked away from Joshua. Grant caught sight of the tears streaming down the girl’s face. She yelled to her horse and went for the cabin at a full gallop, with Charlie holding on for dear life.

  The wagon took the rest of them slowly home.

  As they finally arrived, Marilyn was just riding up with the doctor.

  Grant pulled up as close as he could get to the front door. Grant saw Ian coming fast up the trail. Other horses came behind him.

  “Benny, get up here and hold the reins.” Grant put on the brake then jumped to the ground.

  Benny scrambled over the front of the wagon box to the high seat.

  Grant came around to the back just as the doctor swung down off his horse. Grant opened the tailgate.

  Ian pulled his horse to a stop.

  Will rode up and dismounted. Will was another of those first six children. Joshua was his brother in every way that counted. “What’s happened?” Will’s gaze was riveted to Josh’s still form.

  “Thanks for coming.” Grant couldn’t think clearly enough to answer Will.

  “Let me look at him before we move him.” The doctor edged in between them.

  Grant realized he’d blocked the man away from Josh.

  The doctor leaned close.

  Ian joined them. Grant’s heart eased just knowing his family was gathering to lend a hand. He had a lot of trouble with the folks in Sour Springs, but not everyone was unkind. In fact, most of them were generous, decent people. But a few could make a lot of noise.

  Another horse drew near, ridden by Parson Babbitt.

  The sudden tightening of Grant’s throat caught him by surprise. He hadn’t cried since he was five years old, but these men coming to help meant a lot.

  The parson came to look over the side of the wagon, and Grant saw his lips moving. As soon as he assessed the situation, Parson Babbitt gave Grant a serious nod of his head then went around the wagon to stand with the children. He picked Libby up, rested a hand on Benny’s shoulder, and spoke quietly to the youngsters.

  “The shoulder’s dislocated, not broken.” Doc Morgan stepped closer and leaned over Josh, touching the gash, checking his heartbeat and breathing, running his hands over his legs. A firm push on Josh’s ribs forced a moan out of the boy.

  Grant’s heart raced. It was the first sound out of his son.

  “There could be internal things but, barring that, it looks like he’s going to be okay once we patch him up.” Dr. Morgan looked over his shoulder at Ian, whose arms were thick from working his anvil. “I can use your strength here. I’ll show you what to do. We’ll put this shoulder back in place before we move him. I’ll bind it up good and it’ll heal fast. Then I want him inside for the stitches.”

  “Kids, make sure the kitchen table is clear.” Grant looked up.

  “I already checked, Pa. It’s good.” Marilyn stood with her arms crossed, watching the doctor with wide eyes.

  Grant noticed Charlie’s usually furrowed forehead was smooth. A look of wonder had settled on his face as he watched the family hover around Joshua. Grant suspected the boy had never seen so many people worried about an orphan.

  Ian followed the doctor’s orders and grasped Josh’s hand. Grant saw the sheen of sweat break out on Ian’s forehead, not from effort but from worry. Resetting a joint was going to hurt Josh bad. But it had to be done.

  The doctor explained what he expected. With a hard pull from Ian, a cry wrung out of Josh and the joint snapped audibly into place.

  Grant’s knees sagged, and Will was there with an arm to support him. Grant ran both hands into his hair, slick with cold sweat. He knocked his hat off his head. “I was fine handling Josh until someone took over.”

  Will nodded. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Not now,” the doctor interrupted as he rested Josh’s limp arm on his chest and then moved aside. “We need to get him in and I don’t want him bumped around.
I suspect he’s got broken ribs, and there are other things inside that could be busted up. He might have broken his neck while he was at it. Ian, you pick him up. Be real smooth about it.”

  The doctor jabbed a finger at Will. “When Ian gets him up, come over to the other side and steady him. Grant, help ease his feet off the wagon when Ian lifts him away. Hold them straight all the way stretched out until we get him laid down inside.”

  With Ian’s strength and Will on hand, they moved Josh inside easily. Ian stretched the boy flat on the table. Everyone moved inside. All but the doctor stepped to the far side of the room, which wasn’t all that far.

  Parson Babbitt just poked his head in the door. “You youngsters come on with me to the barn. They haven’t got room to move in here.”

  Grant saw mutiny on his children’s faces, but they did as the parson asked. Libby, Benny, Charlie, and even Marilyn minded the man of God.

  Sadie gave Grant a beseeching look. “I want to stay, Pa.”

  The doctor looked up. “I might need a hand.”

  Grant nodded and settled in to endless, silent prayer for God to hold Joshua in this side of heaven.

  Minutes stretched as the doctor bound Josh’s ribs, moving him as little as possible, then put a sling on his arm. When that was done, he cleaned Josh’s cuts, taking pains to make sure there wasn’t a speck of dirt left in the head wound. Half the morning was gone before he straightened. “All right, Sadie, I could use a nurse here if you’re willing.”

  Sadie stepped up. The doctor began issuing orders. Sadie pulled threads, ointments, and bandages out of the doctor’s bag, whatever he asked for.

  The doc was just clipping the last thread when Joshua’s eyes flickered open.

  Sadie inhaled sharply and leaned down. “Josh, you’re awake.”

  Grant was struck with another unlikely burn of tears. He rubbed the heels of his hands across his eyes to ensure no embarrassment. When he finished, he noticed Will doing the same thing.

  Doc leaned down over Joshua and lifted one of the boy’s eyelids. “Can you hear me, Josh?”

  Josh nodded once then gasped. A moan escaped his lips, but even that was cut off quickly as if even using his vocal cords hurt.

  “Lay still. You took quite a tumble. I’ve got you patched up, but you’re going to have to give yourself time to recover.”

  Josh didn’t so much as nod his agreement.

  “I’m going to give you some laudanum for the pain. Not much, just enough so your pa and brothers can get you moved to your bed. Then you’ll have a long sleep. You’re going to feel puny for the next few days, but you’ll heal.”

  Sadie handed the doctor a brown bottle and a spoon.

  The doctor administered the laudanum, and Josh shuddered from the taste, winced, and then slowly let his eyelids fall shut.

  Doc straightened and turned to Grant. “Be as easy as you can with him. Let’s get him to bed.”

  “Can I talk to him for just one second, Doc?” Grant moved up beside Josh.

  Doc nodded and stepped back. “Make it quick. That drug will kick in, and he won’t be making any sense for a while.”

  Grant bent over the table. “Don’t try to talk, son. Don’t nod your head or so much as budge. Just blink your eyes, once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?”

  Josh’s eyes blinked once.

  “I know you didn’t fall of that bluff, Josh. Did someone push you?”

  Sadie gasped.

  Will stepped closer behind Grant.

  Ian asked from behind them, “You think he was pushed?”

  Josh opened his eyes.

  Grant saw the hesitation. “Do you know?”

  Josh blinked his eyes twice very deliberately. Then the dark brown pupils dilated.

  “No. Okay.” Grant leaned closer. “Did you hear anything? I’m going up there to scout around, but do you remember—” Grant stopped, frustrated by the inability to really talk to the boy. “Do you—”

  Very slowly Josh’s lids slid closed.

  “Josh, wait. I need to know. . .”

  “No more, Grant.” Doc’s hand settled on Grant’s shoulder. “He’s asleep. Even if you could get him to blink, you couldn’t be sure he’d know what he was doing. The drug can make you mighty confused. Pretty common after a knock on the head to forget what happened just before the blow, so he probably wouldn’t answer you anyway. After he gets some rest, you can question him again.”

  Grant straightened and looked in Sadie’s eyes.

  He was surprised by the flowing tears. . .and the fury. She asked, “You think someone deliberately pushed Josh?”

  Will moved closer to Josh. All the protective instincts of a big brother shone in his eyes. Looking between his two children, Grant said, “Josh is like an antelope on those hills, surefooted and careful. He didn’t just fall off that mountain.”

  “I’ll go with you to do your scouting.” Will jerked his chin. Ready to fight for his brother, just like he’d been fighting for him ten years ago when they’d been living on the street. Will had realized the peril two black children were in on Houston’s streets, and he’d been ready to fight and die then for Josh and Sadie. When Grant had taken them to a diner to feed them, Will was the one who wouldn’t let his little brother and sister go in. Will was the one who stood his ground and made Grant understand the consequences.

  “Me, too.” Ian hadn’t lived with them long. He was nearly a man grown when Grant took him in. But his wife, Megan, had been part of the family for five years before Ian had swept her off her feet. Ian was one of them.

  The three of them exchanged a long look. Then Grant turned back to the doctor. “I don’t think we should mention this in town. I’ll have a talk with the sheriff, but if whoever was up there lives in Sour Springs, we don’t want him to know we’re onto him.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions, Grant.” The doctor busied himself rolling down his sleeves. “Anyone can take a fall. Rocks slide unexpectedly, the dirt crumbles on a trail.”

  “Maybe it happened that way, Doc. But I know my boy. I’m going to go have a look. Would you mind not talking about my suspicions in town?”

  “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Nothing to tell anyway, as far as I can see.” The doctor slipped his arms into his black suit coat then added a heavy sheepskin on top of that. “I’ll be back in the afternoon to check on Josh. If you need me before that, send someone running. Everyone in town’s going to know he’s hurt. I’ll just let it out that he took a fall.”

  When the doctor said everyone, for some reason Grant thought of Hannah. He wondered what that little snip would think about this. He’d promised to have his children in school and he’d failed. Now Josh was hurt, and she’d probably find a way to blame Grant for that. She’d be riding out here, scolding and insulting him before the end of the day. She’d probably try to take Josh and the rest of the children home with her.

  A twinge of regret that she was always going to find him wanting as a father twisted his heart. He was wanting as a father. He did his best, but it was true he didn’t have enough room for them. He knew they all worked hard, maybe too hard. Their clothes were torn and patched as often as not. He knew all of that. But he’d never gone to beating up on himself for it. He was better than nothing, which is what these children had before.

  At least he’d never gone to beating up on himself till Hannah. He wished she were here to worry alongside him.

  Grant’s eyes widened and he straightened his spine. He did not wish she were here. He wanted the woman to stay as far away from him and his young’uns as possible.

  Grant shook his head to clear it of notions that he didn’t have time for. It didn’t matter what the woman did or said. He managed as best he could. Grant knew that for the honest truth. And no amount of nagging could change that, whatever his shortcomings as a father.

  And Grant prided himself on being an honest man.

  He was a shameful, lowdown, lying polecat. None of Grant’s family
had come. He’d promised they would.

  Hannah looked at her mostly empty room. She’d expected thirty or more children here today. There must be others missing, too. “Children, take your seats, please.” Hannah stepped to the front of the room.

  Five children, most fairly young, looked up with wide eyes.

  Hannah honestly didn’t know quite what to do about her absentees. “I thought there would be more students here today. Was I mistaken?”

  One little girl with two dark braids hanging down nearly to her lap shook her head. “Lots of kids didn’t get here cuz of the trouble.”

  Hannah gasped. “Trouble? What happened?”

  Another young boy, this one buck-toothed with serious eyes, said, “Someone came riding in for the doctor. They both tore out of town so fast no one had a chance to ask her what happened. Ian from the blacksmith shop tore out next in the opposite direction. Then he come back through town with Will, Ian’s brother. So we knew it meant trouble. Will would’a brought his family to school. But Will lives a ways out so, without him, his kids couldn’t come.”

  Another child chimed in. “And the doctor’s got four in his family, but his wife keeps them to home when there’s a ruckus. My ma says Mrs. Doc gets notional and we all just have’ta let her do what she wants.”

  “And the blacksmith’s wife is getting on with a baby,” the dark-haired girl added. “So like as not she won’t try and get Gordy to school on her own.”

  The children added new names, all kept home because of the trouble. Several said their fathers had headed out of town after the doctor.

  “Why would everyone follow after the doctor? Surely he doesn’t need that much help.”

  “Can’t never have too much help, Miss Cartwright,” the dark-haired girl said.

  The serious boy said, “ ’Sides, they’re mostly all family. I mean not all, but those that ain’t connected still might want’a ride out and see what’s what. So it’s not likely they’ll send their kids if they’re busy waiting on news.”

  Hannah kept the scowl off her face by pure will power. “School should be a priority.” First the town had no school. Then it hired her with no care. Now they didn’t send their children. She started working up a nice head of indignation.

 

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