Savage storm

by Conn, Phoebe

  "No, if there were several young men about, we could ask them to notice her, or at least talk with her occasionally so she would gain some confidence, but that's not possible here," Cabrielle mused thoughtfully.

  After a moment's thought. Erica gave a delighted squeal. "Let's ask Mr. Royal to give her some extra attention! He'd do it, don'^t you think? He is such a charming man I'm sure if you asked him he'd do it for us."

  Cabrielle found it difficult to respond in a tone below a furious shriek, but after taking a deep breath she gave it her best try. "That is the worst idea I have ever heard. Erica. For one thing, it's unfair to treat the man as though he were a gigolo. For another, were Marlene ever to find out he was being sweet to her only as a favor to us she would be devastated. No. The whole idea is absurd, completely out of the question."

  Erica stared wide-eyed at her friend, "What's a gigolo?" She asked innocently.

  "That is the French word for a man who is paid to be a

  woman's escort. It is not a complimentary term for they are considered little better than prostitutes," Gabrielle explained in a hushed tone.

  Clearly astounded that such an occupation existed. Erica nonetheless believed if there were such men they would definitely be plying their trade in France. Deciding it would be better not to pursue that topic, she asked, ''Cam you speak French, Gabrielle?"

  ''Some. My aunt attempted to instruct me in the language, but I was an indifferent pupil Fm afraid. Gabrielle is a French name, so she insisted I know a few words at least."

  "Your aunt told you about gigolos?" Erica inquired skeptically, wondering what sort of guardian would reveal such a scandalous thing.

  '*No, of course not. She gave me French novels to read in the hope of improving my grammar and one referred to such a man. But we are getting off the subject. Do you understand why your idea is such a foolish one?"

  "No. We wouldn't be paying Mr. Royal to do it, so no one could call him a gigolo. And how would Marlene ever find out? I still think it's a good idea."

  "It's dreadful!" Gabrielle insisted. "You can't manipulate people like that. They both have feelings and it would be disastrous. That sounds more like something Iris would suggest rather than you, Erica, and I don't want any part of it."

  Undaunted, Erica refused to give up. "There's Mr. Home then. Have you noticed how much younger he looks now than when he first spoke with us in Kansas City? I'll bet he's lost twenty or thirty pounds, and if I were to cut his hair the way Mr. Royal wears his, so the curls followed the shape of his head instead of sticking out all over, I'd bet he'd be quite handsome too.

  Gabrielle simply stared at her friend dumfounded by her lack of logic. She'd paid little attention to how Clayton Home looked, but as she glanced through the crowd and saw him talking with Barbara, she had to agree that he did look far more

  fit than when their journey had begun. Still, no matter how he wore his hair she thought the idea a poor one.

  "By ail means offer to cut Mr. Home's hair if that's what you want to do, but leave him out of this scheme too. He is supposed to be escorting all of us to Oregon and he can't have any favorites. Were he to begin paying special attention to Marlene, someone would be sure to notice and be hurt because she did not receive the same courtesy. Just forget it. Erica, and when we arrive in Oregon City we'll do our best to make Marlene feel better about herself regardless of what her age might be."

  With so much on her mind, Gabrielle gave the matter of building Marlene's self-confidence no further thought until she noticed Clayton Home sporting a new and very flattering haircut. The change in the man was really quite remarkable. He did look much younger, and with his trimmer waistline he now seemed to have a muscular rather than a stocky build. Erica only laughed when she asked her about it, but when she did not see Marlene in Clayton's company she ceased to worry over what mischief might be afoot because the trail had again grown difficult.

  After the wagon train had left Soda Springs, they had angled north, crossing a hot, dry plain with little but sagebrush to improve the view. Their next opportunity to stop for a few days would be at Fort Hall. There they would rest before continuing the trail as it followed the Snake River west.

  Gabrielle had just finished her breakfast one morning when Timothy Duffy came running to find her. Breathlessly he explained that his father needed her help that day. "My ma's awful sick. She can barely take care of herself let alone my sisters. Can you ride with us today and help me watch 'em?"

  "Why of course I will, Tim. When did your mother fall ill?" Gabrielle was concerned about the woman, and although they were not friends she was happy to help her after the many chores Sam had done for her.

  "Mrs. Duffy is ill?" Johanna asked solicitously. "I'd better

  come along too, just in case." She considered herself a most proficient nurse and at the same time thought it her Christian duty to help anyone in need.

  Seeing her worried glance, Gabrielle did not refuse her help. So leaving their horses tied behind the wagon, the two young women rode to the Duffys' rig. Sam Duffy had hitched up his team, but was waiting for them to arrive.

  "Amanda took sick during the night and I can't see to her and drive the oxen as well with three kids to watch." He looked far from well himself, having had little sleep due to his wife's illness.

  *'Johanna and I will be happy to help you, Sam. Do you have any idea what could be wrong with your wife?" Gabrielle thought it would be helpful to have at least some idea what sort of illness she was tending.

  Blushing deeply, Sam tried to describe her symptoms, "She can't seem to keep nothing down, she was that way before each of the kids was born so it might be that again, or if it ain't that perhaps something she ate was spoiled."

  "It has been hot and food spoils easily in this weather," Johanna agreed, promptly taking charge. "Have you some tea? We'll need to give her plenty to drink regardless of the cause of her sickness."

  Sam stared down at the prim little woman, certain he shouldn't have mentioned his wife's condition might be such a delicate one. "Sure, we got a tin of tea. I'll just brew some while the fire's still hot."

  "Good." Johanna climbed over the tailgate of the wagon and made herself comfortable beside Mrs. Duffy as she called out. "You wait for the tea, Gabrielle, and then we'll be all set until noon."

  Gabrielle smiled at Sam when she saw how embarrassed he was. She had rightly guessed the cause. "You and Amanda are married, aren't you, Sam? It's no disgrace if she is pregnant, is it?"

  "Oh, we are married all right. It's only that this ain't the

  time for another babe is all." He looked around then to be certain Timothy wasn't listening and saw that the boy was playing nearby with his sisters. "Wegot all we can handle now, miss. Not that I don't love the kids, but they are a handful."

  "Well let's just make the tea and let the future take care of itself for the time being, Sam." Gabrielle knew that wasn't an especially reassuring thought, but she could offer little more in the way of advice. The Duffys had few material possessions and so she and the little girls moved to the back of the wagon where they had plenty of room. The girls played with rag dolls while Timothy rode Comet, the mule. Johanna kept up a steady stream of conversation with Amanda, offering her a sip of tea whenever she thought she could swallow it. Sam tried to keep his attention focused on his oxen, but he turned around frequently to thank the two young women for their help.

  Jason noticed Sunny trotting behind Gabrielle's wagon but he had no time to inquire where she might be until the wagon train stopped at noon. He tried to make his interest sound only casual when he asked Paul for her whereabouts, but after learning that Mrs. Duffy had fallen ill, he headed straight down the line of wagons, looking for Sam's. He found Gabrielle preparing lunch for the children while Sam and Johanna sat inside the wagon with Amanda who was still too weak to leave her bed.

  When no suitable greeting came to his mind, Jason got right to the point. He asked Gabrielle when Amanda had fallen ill. He hadn'
t meant to direct his anger at her but his reprimand sounded sharp nonetheless. "I should have been told immediately. If it is something contagious then their wagon will have to be isolated from the others before the disease spreads."

  Gabrielle asked Timothy and his sisters to sit down and eat before she took Jason aside to explain in a hushed whisper. "There's no need to frighten the children. Sam thinks his wife is pregnant, which I am certain you know is not contagious."

  "Well let's hope not," Jason responded with a sly grin, but

  he had to laugh when Gabrielle's cheeks flooded with color. He wanted to pull her into his arms and cover her face with kisses, but he shoved his hands into his back pockets instead and asked the only question which came to his mind. "If it's just morning sickness, isn't it hanging on a bit long?"

  "Frankly, I know nothing about such matters. Johanna kept giving her tea all morning, but I don't think it did much good. Morning sickness is never fatal though, so I imagine she'll be feeling better before too much longer."

  "Johanna is here too?" Jason looked toward the wagon, he'd not noticed the young woman had not been with the others. He didn't count heads each morning, but he always found some excuse to ride bv and wave to Gabrielle so he'd noted her disappearance.

  "Yes, she enjoys being helpful. She volunteered right away when Timothy came to ask for my help this morning."

  "I better look at Mrs. Duffy for a moment, just to make certain she's all right." Jason sincerely hoped she was for they were still several days from Fort Hall. He didn't want to have to stop in the middle of nowhere if her mysterious illness were to spread.

  "Well . . ." Gabrielle hesitated to say what was on her mind, but since he seemed truly concerned about the woman she whispered softly. "Have you ever spoken with Sam since we were at Bear Lake?"

  Jason straightened up to his full height, his gesture a threatening one even if she had not meant to give offense. "No. But I'll not use that as an excuse to avoid speaking with him now. Tell him I want to see his wife and it's not because I'm suspicious about how he's treating her, but because I'm concerned that she's ill. Will you do that for me, please?"

  "I will be happy to. Give me just a minute to speak with him and I'm sure he won't refuse."

  As Gabrielle turned to go, Jason reached out to catch her arm.

  "I won't allow him to refuse. My request is merely a

  courtesy because I am going to speak with his wife right now, no matter what he says. Is that clear?"

  ''Yes," Gabrielle responded softly, sorry he would think that threat needed to be spoken. "We are all your responsibility, I know your speech by heart, and I'll see that Sam understands your interest is for the general welfare, not a malicious one."

  Jason swallowed the invectives which came to his lips as Gabrielle wsdked around to the back of the wagon. Why did she insist upon twisting every damn word he spoke until it sounded ugly? He was tempted to just turn his back on the Duffys and let them handle their own problems, but as Gabrielle had said, they were his responsibility and one he'd not shirk.

  Gabrielle returned swiftly, her expression filled with anxiety. "I had not realized how desperately ill the woman truly is, Jason. I think you'd better look at her at once." She followed him around to the back of the wagon but waited outside until he climbed down. He'd spent no more than three minutes with Amanda but his face was ashen. "What's wrong? What do you think it is?"

  The tall man took a deep breath and then another before he looked down at her and whispered. "I think it's cholera and we'll be damn lucky if we don't lose half the camp."

  "Oh, no!" Gabrielle's golden tan faded to a ghostly pallor as she reached out to grab his arm, afraid she might faint at the thought that the plague had overtaken them so far from a settlement where they might receive medical attention. Knowing hysteria would do none of them any good, she forced herself to be calm. "Did you say that to Sam?"

  "Not yet." Jason covered her hand with his as he whispered. "You and Johanna have been with her all morning so I can't allow you to go back to your own wagon. You'll have to remain here and do what you can for the children should they become sick. The disease spreads so quickly if they are infected it will soon become apparent."

  Shocked by the calm manner in which he was handling what could easily be a death sentence, Gabrielle nodded numbly.

  ''Yes, of course. I understand. My own parents died of cholera within hours of each other. Since I did not catch the disease then, perhaps I will be lucky this time too.^'

  No longer able to appear detached when he could not bear to consider what might happen to Cabrielle, Jason drew her into his arms, hugging her trembling body against his chest as he stroked her silken hair. ''I talked with Dr. Whitman about the disease once. He is a Presbyterian missionary who swore he'd successfully treated cholera with no more than a great sufficiency of fluids and warm blankets. I do not know what else to try."

  Gabrielle rested in his arms for no more than a minute; then she stepped back, lifting her chin proudly as she agreed. ''Johanna and I will do what we can for the Duffys. Now hadn't you better see about everyone else?"

  Jason brought her hand to his lips, kissing her palm tenderly as he'd often longed to do, but there seemed to be no words to express the emotion which flooded his heart. He knew cholera to be a killer, and a swift one. By the time he had scrubbed himself clean and had gone to check on each of the other families she might already have fallen ill. The horror of that possibility terrified him. Unable to think of something to say that would give her hope, he gave her practical advice. "Give the children a good bath. Scrub them clean and then burn their clothes. Find some clothing their mother hasn't touched in the last few days. Boil the water before they drink it and keep everything clean. Make the kids sleep on the ground—I'll provide fresh blankets—and don't let them get back into that wagon. Keep them away from their mother no matter how they beg to see her."

  Gabrielle nodded, her mind racing ahead to the necessary tasks. "We'll be all right, Jason. Don't worry about us."

  She seemed so distracted he did not try to make her understand how futile her advice was. He knew he would think of little else but the great danger she was in. She was a lovely young woman, but a fragile one; and he hoped that whatever

  miracle had saved her life when her parents had been lost would save her again. Giving her hands a last affectionate squeeze, he called Sam down from the wagon and talked frankly with him. Jason could read the man's fear in his eyes and he knew Sam had already suspected the truth. Johanna proved to be as courageous as Gabrielle and she offered to stay by Amanda's side to do all she could to improve the woman's chances for survival while her friend tended the children.

  Clayton thought Jason had lost his mind when the young man began tossing his clothing into their fire. "My God, man, what are you doing?"

  "I've got other clothes, bring me some along with soap and a towel. Unless I miss my guess, Amanda Duffy has come down with cholera, and I don't want to spread it around while I warn the others."

  Clayton ran to their pack mules for the items Jason required, his fingers shaking as he searched through their baggage. Then, realizing hysteria was as great an enemy as the disease, he made a valiant attempt to conquer his fear by the time he returned to the wagon master's side.

  "We can't leave their wagon behind, of course, but what shall we do?"

  "I'm going to take the rest of the wagons on down the trail a hundred yards or so, just to give us some space before I announce what's happened. We'll do our best to see Mrs. Duffy survives. Then if no one else comes down with the disease, we'll go on. But the odds are against this being one isolated case."

  "I realize that, but what can we do to protect our girls?" Clayton asked anxiously.

  Filling a bucket from a barrel of drinking water, Jason picked up the soap and began to wash every speck of dust from his deeply tanned body. "Gabrielle and Johanna spent the morning with the Duffys so I had to leave them there."

 
; "Dear God." Clayton sank to the ground in a weary heap. "Not everyone dies when they get cholera, Jason. Some always

  survive, a scant few perhaps, but some always do manage to recover."

  ''Yes, and some don't come down with the disease no matter how frequently they are exposed to it. Let us pray we have many such fortunate souls among us."

  Clayton looked up, startled by Jason's comment. "I did not think you were a religious man."

  ''I am ready to beg for help from any quarter. Clay. Now hand me my clothes."

  Once dressed and mounted upon Duke, Jason gave the order to roll but he soon called a halt. Then he rode down the line of wagons, giving each the news that Amanda Duffy was seriously ill and they would make camp rather than travel any farther that day. He said it was too soon to give the disease a name, but by the time he'd reached the last wagon rumors of cholera had already begun to spread. In 1832 an epidemic had spread from Asia to Europe. Carried across the sea to New Orleans it had swiftly moved up the Mississippi River leaving thousands dead in its wake, Gabrielle's parents among them. Now, in 1847, the disease had broken out again, following the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Those moving west in the hope of escaping its deadly grasp now realized they might not be so fortunate. The wagons formed a large circle and the emigrants herded the livestock inside to graze. But rather than mingUng with their neighbors as they usually did, each family sat alone, wondering who would be the next to fall ill and praying it would not be one of those they loved.

  The Duffys' younger daughter, Suzanna, was four, the elder, Mary Beth, was six. Gabrielle made a game of bathing them and dressing them in the pretty calico dresses she'd found in their trunk. Timothy, however, wasn't about to be fooled. While the other wagons hadn't left them far behind, they had been left all the same, and being a clever child, he had swiftly guessed the reason. His eyes filled with tears as he drew Gabrielle aside.