Hannah Alexander

by Keeping Faith

  “It’s what you’d’ve done, Captain. You wouldn’t’ve let them get to the doctor.”

  “That’s right, and you should have trusted I was doing just that—keeping them away from her by hiding her where they couldn’t find her. But now the trail is so obvious a three-year-old could find it, so I have to get her out of here.”

  “How could I know that?” Buster spread his hands. “How was I supposed to know you were prepared?”

  “When’s the last time you saw me unprepared?” The tone of Joseph’s voice deepened. “Except, perhaps, when you and your brother convinced Claude Ladue to help you cross the flooded river.”

  There was an unhappy sigh from Buster. “I know, Captain. It’s all I think about. I’m doing all I can to make things better.”

  “I’ll tell you what you can do,” Joseph said. “You need to push the bodies of those border attackers into the middle of the creek and hope they keep on floating southeast.”

  Buster swallowed so loudly that Victoria heard it over the rush of the creek. “I...I can do that.”

  “You sure?”

  “No burial or nothing?”

  “I’m here to keep Victoria alive, not bury killers. Do you have a shovel? Can you dig the graves and carry those bodies to their graves and cover them up before someone comes looking for them?”

  “I’ll get ’em into the water.”

  “Good. Then you need to gather their horses and ride as fast and far as you can against the wind.”

  “Huh?”

  “West. The weather usually comes from the west. Then you unsaddle the horses, set them free and then hightail it back to Jolly Mill before their friends realize what’s up and peg you as the culprit. Did anyone see you leaving with them?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “The four men who rode after Deacon and Heidi took their horses to the stables before I went to talk to Thames, but I don’t know who else might’ve been with their crowd. It’s kind of quiet and watchful in town, you know.”

  Joseph closed his eyes and shook his head. “As soon as you get back to town, tell Fritz and Reich what’s happening here, but don’t tell another soul.” Joseph stopped dabbing the water across Victoria’s face and gave the kid a hard look. “And if you do tell another soul, I will come after you myself. I have a good aim. Don’t you go risking still more lives so you can play hero.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m going.” Buster sounded like a petulant child, but he did as he was told and crashed his way through the brush toward the horses.

  “Lead the animals through the creek until you can get to a rocky ridge where their footsteps won’t be noticeable,” Joseph called after him. “I can’t move Victoria quickly and I don’t need all those tracks leading more men back to us.”

  Victoria pushed herself up on her elbows. “I can ride.”

  “No, you can’t. You can barely move right now, and you’re in shock,” Joseph said. “Buster Johnston, just go, now!”

  * * *

  Victoria was pretty sure she would die soon. She suddenly felt like it. Rallying her strength to back up Joseph had taken the last of her energy.

  There were some loud splashes when Buster gave the dead men a water burial. Next came a major scuffle while the kid herded horses and apparently got tangled in four sets of bridles. If the kid was as awkward with the rest of his mission as he always had been, he would lead other ruffians directly to their hideout.

  Joseph placed another cloth of icy water over her face, touched her neck and arms, brushed her hair back. She wished she felt well enough to enjoy his attention.

  “Victoria, lie still. I’m going to search for some of those plants you had Heidi and Mrs. Reich gathering the other day.”

  “Has the bleeding truly stopped?”

  “I’ve seen no more blood come through the packing I’ve placed there. I think the potato starch has done the trick.” Joseph moved Victoria away from Boaz and urged the horse to his feet. He reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out a hatchet. “I think we’ll do this a different way.”

  “What?” She looked askance at the tool he held as he reached for a sapling.

  “Boaz has pulled a litter before. It’ll take longer to get you to town this way, but we need to get you away from here.”

  “Is Buster gone?” She heard no more splashing.

  “He finally figured out how to lead all those horses downstream and out the other side.”

  “He was trying to help,” she admitted.

  “He did us no good stirring up the rocks along the creek with all the horse tracks.”

  “Those men might have found us if not for Buster distracting them.” She couldn’t believe she was defending the boy.

  Joseph chopped two matching saplings—sassafras, by the smell of them—and knelt beside Victoria. He gave her some sassafras chips. “These may help settle your stomach if you hold one in your mouth.”

  He placed one on her tongue and gave her more for later. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a mouse that’s been chewed on by a cat.”

  “Rest while I work.” He felt her forehead again. “I don’t think you’re any warmer, but we still need to get your fever down.”

  “I didn’t pack the feverfew.”

  “Then we need to get you to Heidi and her wagon.”

  Joseph spread out a blanket and helped her onto it so she could rest while he built the litter. He had come prepared for everything, and after weaving some vines back and forth between the cut saplings, he tied the ends to either side of the saddle with leather strips and laid his coat across the woven vines.

  With gentle movements, he lifted her and the blanket from the ground and laid her onto the litter. “I’ll lead Boaz and find the smoothest route, but we’ll have to avoid the creek. That seems to have become a regular road today, with too much traffic.”

  He gave her a few sips of water from a wineskin and then left it beside her on the litter. “You know the drill, Doctor. A few sips at a time. Don’t overdo it, but keep drinking as much as you can. If you start to feel worse, let me know and we can stop.”

  She looked up into Joseph’s worry-lined face. Hot tears filled her eyes and dripped down the sides of her cheeks. It seemed she could do nothing today but cry. “All I feel right now is grateful.”

  “Good, go with that feeling and keep drinking the water.”

  She gazed up at him and the sky spun above his head. She closed her eyes. “So grateful.”

  “Victoria?”

  She opened her eyes again, and he knelt beside her. He touched her face tenderly and adjusted the blanket beneath her. “I’ll take care of you. I’m not losing you again.”

  Fighting darkness and dizziness, she couldn’t help smiling. “I love you, too.”

  His movements stopped. “Try telling me that when you’re not delirious with fever.”

  “I will. I promise.” She closed her eyes again, and the darkness settled around his image—that image of a man who loved her and who would never let her go. The image lasted as she felt herself moving and heard Joseph talking to Boaz. It lasted even into her dark dreams. His imprint on her mind stayed and fought off the evil of the nightmares that haunted her of a man with a braided tail of silver whose evil killed a kind and gentle doctor...and of the horror she’d felt when she killed the man. Revenge. Somehow, she had expected it to be much more satisfying. All she felt was broken, as if she would never be the same again.

  She was a physician. She healed people. She didn’t kill them.

  As Joseph continued to lead Boaz forward through the soft grasses, Victoria’s eyes dripped with tears as she relived the awfulness of taking a human life.

  * * *

  After an hour of travel over the softest ground Joseph could find, he heard the rustle of brush to his left, near where a spring bubbled up and trailed a tiny stream toward the creek. He reached for his rifle and swung around, and his gelding
stopped.

  He saw long, golden-white strands of hair tangled in a tree, then he heard a grunt and saw a tow-headed boy untangle the strands. It was Gray and Heidi.

  Of all the undisciplined... “What are you two doing here?”

  “Buster just got back and told us to—”

  “Buster? He’s already back in Jolly Mill? What about the horses?”

  “What horses? He was on his horse.”

  Joseph sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He wished he’d been more specific about how far Buster should lead those animals. The kid had probably led them barely a mile away and released them. No telling which way they would go or how soon they would turn up.

  And what had he just told Buster earlier? To get to town and stay there. To tell no one but the men where they were. “It appears we’re doing the dirty work for the ruffians, breaking ground for them to follow.” Buster. As soon as he got his hands on that boy—

  “I’m sorry,” Heidi said. “Buster said you didn’t want us here, but I couldn’t do what you asked.” She rushed to the traveling pallet behind Boaz, fell to her knees and burst into tears. “Please, Captain, tell me she’s not—”

  “She isn’t dead,” Joseph assured the girl. Why couldn’t any of these young ones do as they were asked? What was happening with children these days? “Heidi, you could be placing us in danger. I need you and Gray to return to Jolly Mill. And take a different route, if you don’t mind.”

  “Can’t, Captain,” Gray said. “I know.” He raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. “I know you didn’t want me to listen to Buster, but this time I think he’s right. Besides, even Mr. Fritz said we needed to come. He’s back at our new camp up on the hill making sure nobody follows us. Heidi brought medicines from the wagon and Mrs. Reich found the doctor’s friends. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Okay?” It was an effort for Joseph to control his temper. “Did your brother not tell you we killed three of the ruffians?”

  “Yessir, but—”

  “We could be bringing war down on our heads and on the wagon train because Buster couldn’t keep his mouth shut and do what he was told.”

  “No choice,” Gray said. “Buster said he saw those men leave the dram shop and head down Capps Creek. They’d’ve found you for sure.”

  “Unlike your brother, I left no tracks for them to find.” Joseph flung down the lead rope, knowing Boaz would stay where he was. “But now if someone else rides that way they’re going to see the blood of three dead slavers. Who do you think they’ll blame?”

  “Buster?”

  “Abolitionists. Most likely, the whole wagon train. Or even strangers traveling through. They’ll blame whoever suits their need for bloodlust.”

  “Buster said he caught a smell of whiskey where they stopped. Don’t ya think they’d’ve caught a whiff and gone looking for the source?” He sniffed toward Victoria. “That’s what you’re using for medicine, right?”

  Joseph gritted his teeth and looked down at Victoria, who was having a quiet conversation with a tearful Heidi.

  “Buster’s back there cleaning everything up now,” Gray said. “Mr. Reich came with us after Buster told us what happened.”

  Joseph closed his eyes for a moment, relieved despite his anger. Reich. The voice of wisdom. Thank the Lord this would be the final journey for Joseph. Thirty wasn’t old, but he suddenly felt as if he’d aged too much, riding back and forth from St. Louis to Kansas Territory these past few years, sometimes twice.

  For some reason, Joseph had softened on this trip. He blamed Victoria’s influence completely. Something about her had gentled the hardness that had grown within him, and he no longer kept the firm control over those in his charge the way he had before.

  “I brought laudanum.” Heidi’s soft, tentative voice turned him from his musings. “Mrs. Frasier gave me some. She’s a nice lady, but she had some scary news. Did you know she and Buck are hiding thirty people who were slaves?”

  Joseph knelt beside the litter, partly because his legs gave way. “I was told they had two.” He looked into Victoria’s heavy-lidded eyes and saw the anguish there. Bad men were closing in, hungry for the kill, and now there was a whole crowd of vulnerable victims instead of just two.

  “I was coming for Naaman and Josetta,” she said hoarsely.

  “Who’s going to get the rest of them out of town?” He looked up at Heidi, who hovered at Victoria’s other side, blocking the sun.

  “That’s what Mrs. Frasier wanted to know,” Heidi said. “She told Mrs. Reich they’ve got a good hiding place, but sooner or later, what with all the ruffians scouring the town, they could find the whole bunch.”

  “Did she say where they’re from?” Joseph asked.

  “From up near the Missouri River.” Heidi poured laudanum from a vial into the corner of Victoria’s mouth.

  Victoria swallowed and closed her eyes, her face flushed with fever. Joseph stared at the woman he loved and prayed with more intensity than he’d ever put into a prayer that she would heal from the abuse her poor body had taken.

  “Some man named Duncan killed their owner,” Gray said, interrupting Joseph’s silent beseeching. “That means nobody owns them now, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s what it should mean, yes.”

  “So shouldn’t we take them all with us to Kansas Territory so they can be free?” Heidi gave Victoria another dose of laudanum, capped the vial and held up a different one. “This is feverfew.”

  “I’m glad you brought it.” Bless the young woman for her wisdom, despite her willful companions.

  Heidi gently touched Victoria’s face. “She feels hot to me. I’ll give her a little extra dose, okay?”

  Joseph nodded his approval.

  “Dr. Fenway brought it back to America from England,” Heidi said. “It should help with the fever.”

  Heidi gave Victoria the next dose of medicine, slowly, so as not to choke her. “Gray was fishing with some of the other boys along Capps Creek and heard them talking about Africans. Tell him, Gray.” In her excitement, she nearly dropped the vial she’d been using.

  Joseph gently took it from her and recapped it, then patted her shoulder. “Well done, Heidi.” He turned to Gray. “Tell me.”

  Gray hesitated, as if afraid Joseph might become angry with him again. “One of the boys was a son of a slaver who’s been camping out at the edge of town. He talked a lot. The rest just kind of stayed away from him. I don’t think many of the folks around here like the ruffians. They’re slavers with a killing streak.”

  “I don’t like them, either,” Joseph said. “But since so many travelers stop at Jolly Mill to camp and resupply on their way to Kansas and Indian Territories, that’s where the rabble-rousers hang out. They cause trouble for the travelers.”

  “How’re we going to sneak thirty Africans across the border?” Heidi asked.

  “Who says we are?” Joseph gently lifted Victoria and settled her more comfortably on the pallet.

  “Francine says we have to, Captain,” Heidi said. “We can’t let the border ruffians find them and force them back into slavery.”

  Joseph tried not to grimace. If Duncan had anything to say about it, slavery might not be his plan at all. “We don’t even have enough wagons with us to carry them.” Now he wished he’d been less eager to send McDonald south with so many of their people. If they’d brought more wagons with them, they might have been able to pull this off. As it was, Heidi was right to be concerned.

  “There’s a cavern across the creek from the town,” Gray said. “Several of the other fishermen told me they think the Africans hide there, but people have had accidents and died down there, so most folks keep away.”

  “You mean they’re living in the cave?”

  “Well, they sure don’t live in town,” Heidi said. “But they don’t live in the cave, either. At least, not most of them. Buck and Francine had a full-time job keeping them fed at first, but then they made frien
ds in the area and others started helping. The Africans knew how to dig roots and trap their own food.”

  “One of the boys told me that cavern goes all the way to a settlement called Plymouth,” Gray said. “So if they have to escape, they can get out that way.”

  “That’s less than ten miles from here, and from what I’ve overheard, Duncan’s men know about that hiding place.” Joseph studied Victoria’s pale lids against the redness of her face. This was her mission they were discussing. She couldn’t have handled it herself. In her efforts to protect others from danger, she’d volunteered herself for a mission of death.

  Or had she? He’d learned long ago that Victoria had the heart of a gentle warrior. Or perhaps a prophet.

  “I think we can do something,” Gray said.

  Joseph looked up at him. The boy had a mind of his own when his brother wasn’t busy influencing him—and it was a good mind.

  “Well, see, the wagons are all set higher so they could travel over the rough trails we’ve had since St. Louis, but if we follow the road from here, we won’t have such rough trails.”

  “You’re thinking about a refit of the wagons?” Joseph asked.

  “We might be able to build carriers on the undersides of the wagons, make them big enough to fit a whole passel of people.”

  “Where are we going to find weathered wood to match the wagons?” Heidi asked. “Too obvious, and we won’t have enough time.”

  “Well, you got any better ideas?” Gray frowned at her.

  “We’ll figure something out.” Joseph helped Heidi to her feet. “Did anyone say whether or not the border ruffians have threatened the Frasiers?”

  “Francine and Buck told me two of the men have been snooping around their house, questioning the Africans who live with them, Josetta and Naaman.” Heidi shuddered. “That man with the white braid?”

  “You’re talking about Thames?” Joseph asked.

  Heidi nodded. “He’d been threatening Buck and Francine that some man named Otto Duncan and a posse of his men and dogs are on their way to Jolly Mill to claim his property. What’s he talking about?”

  Joseph’s heart ached for young Heidi, alone in the world, grieving the loss of her whole family, and now forced into this hotbed of murder and danger. She should already be living far out in Kansas Territory, working alongside Victoria, surrounded by the loving people of their wagon train and healing from her tragedies. Instead, she was facing yet more horror. One had to wonder if she would ever completely recover.