She nodded. “Night Bear told me. It sounds like smallpox, but I will need to see better before I can be certain. Even then, I’ve only seen it once before. I’ve had medicine to prevent my getting it, so I should be able to help you without taking sick.”
“Here are your things,” Night Bear said, motioning the two men into the tepee. One brought Hannah’s supplies while the other stoked the fire and added wood. The room brightened considerably and Hannah realized she didn’t need to worry about the candles.
Studying the sores on He Who Walks in Darkness, Hannah’s suspicions were confirmed. It was smallpox. She glanced at Night Bear, who stood swaying slightly to her right. “You need to get to bed,” she told him.
He Who Walks in Darkness looked at her in question. “Your son is sick with the smallpox, just as you are. I presume most of the village people are ill?”
He nodded, but spoke in Comanche to Night Bear. Hannah heard the boy reply “Haa—yes.” Then he went to a pallet and sank to the ground.
“Can you cure us?”
Hannah looked at the chief and shook her head. “No, there is no cure for this. I can, however, help to make you comfortable. The strong will survive this, but the weaker ones will most likely die. I will not lie to you—it is a horrible disease.”
He closed his eyes. “It is good you do not lie. Ura.”
“You are welcome,” Hannah replied. “Now rest. I will get some willow bark tea brewing and check on the others.” She looked to Night Bear. “I’m sorry, but I suppose I will need your help a bit longer. I do not wish to alarm your people. They will need to know that I am not here to harm them.”
Night Bear nodded. He got to his feet. “I will show you to the others and explain.”
Hannah drew a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy no matter how she looked at it. Smallpox had swept through the village—probably brought to them by diseased blankets or some other trade goods. Now that it was here, however, it wouldn’t just go away without exacting a huge toll.
“It was mighty fine of you to take us in for the night,” William told Ted Terry and his wife, Marietta. “I figured to make it back to the ranch, but we’ve had some issues rounding up a few of the steers. Headed about ten of yours back this way.”
“Thanks, but what are you wanting with them this time of year?” Ted asked.
The two men exchanged a look. “I suppose,” William began, “it would be better if I didn’t tell you. At least that way you won’t have to lie about it later.”
Terry eyed him with a raised brow. “Lie about it? I think you know me better than that.”
“I do, and that’s why I’d probably best not speak of what we’re doing with the cattle.”
Tyler nodded, but Ted Terry was no man’s fool. “Might this have something to do with the war efforts?” he asked.
“It might,” William said. “Then again, it might not.” He smiled. “Seriously, I wouldn’t want you to get in any trouble for our doings.”
Ted nodded as his wife came into the room with fresh coffee. “I thought you boys could use something to warm you up. I’m having the cook fix you something to eat.”
William smiled at the woman. She was, as they often said in Texas, a handsome woman. Marietta’s eyes still held a sparkle of life usually reserved for the very young, even though her brown hair was heavily salted with gray. William hadn’t seen her for years and yet she hadn’t seemed to age a day. A very unusual thing for women on Texas ranches.
She put the tray on a table near her husband. “Do you want me to pour or would you boys rather go back to talking and pour for yourselves?”
“We’ll get it, darlin’,” Ted told her. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”
She kissed the top of his head, then turned to Tyler and William. “I’ll come and get you when the food is ready.”
Ted was already pouring the coffee by the time she exited the sitting room. William turned back to his host and took the offered cup. “Thank you. Like I said, we hadn’t intended to travel so far. But it is good to see you again.”
“And you,” Ted said, handing Tyler a cup. “But I still want to know more about this venture of yours. I’m not afraid of what the future holds. You know God has a purpose in bringing you here, and I don’t intend for you to deny me my involvement in it.”
William chuckled. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I shouldn’t hesitate.”
“Are you serving the Lord, William?” Ted asked quite seriously.
“I . . . well . . . I can’t rightly say that I am. God and me got a little bit separated during the war.”
“I reckon you know that wasn’t by His doing?”
William knew the older man wouldn’t cut him any slack when it came to God. “I suppose I do. Still, whether this is a mission for God or not, the war makes it impossible to keep from offending someone.”
The man nodded. “You’re always bound to offend someone in life. Best you realize that early on.” He smiled. “Even so, whatever you’re up to . . . I want to help.”
14
She went where?” William didn’t usually raise his voice to anyone, but he was certain he couldn’t have heard right.
Juanita gave a quick glance at Pepita before answering. “Miss Hannah go with Night Bear to his people. They are sick and Night Bear’s father sent him to get help.”
“Of all the stupid, ridiculous ideas! It wasn’t enough she marched out to meet the Comanche on horseback—now she’s gone to visit them in their camp.” He shook his head and slapped his hat against his aching leg.
William motioned to Berto and handed him the reins to his horse. “He’s played out. Would you saddle up the sorrel for me?” William pulled his saddlebags from the horse.
Berto nodded and took off for the barn. William looked at Tyler. “I’m going after her.”
“You want us to come with you?” Tyler asked. “My men and I could—”
Holding up his hand, William shook his head. “No. We can’t go storming into a Comanche village and not expect things to go horribly wrong. If I show up there with a bunch of soldiers, they aren’t going to take it as a friendly move.”
“Going alone isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, either. What if another band of Comanche or Kiowa come your way?”
“That’s why I’m taking the sorrel. He’s the fastest horse we have. He can outrun any Indian mount.” William looked back to Juanita. “Would you pack me some supplies? I’ll head out as soon as they’re ready.”
Juanita nodded and hurried with Pepita into the house.
“I should have known she’d do something like this,” William said.
“You couldn’t know that Night Bear would show up or that his people were going to get sick. I’m surprised they would even seek help from a white woman. They must be sufferin’ something fierce.”
“I’m sure they are.” William gazed off to the north. “Miss Dandridge is going to do a bit of suffering herself. Living with the Numunuu won’t be an easy thing. They are a nomadic people and they aren’t exactly set up for comfort.”
Tyler laughed. “Sounds like you’re worried—maybe you have feelings for Miss Dandridge.”
Narrowing his eyes, William scowled. “You’re the Romeo, not me.”
Tyler studied him for a moment. “Not this time. You look a mite lovesick, if you ask me.”
“Well, I’m not.” William wasn’t about to reveal how close Tyler was to guessing his confused feelings. “She has a brother and sister to care for. Their pa is missing. Her place is here. Her responsibilities and loyalties should be here—not risking her life to smallpox.”
“How do you plan to find her?” Tyler asked, sobering.
“I’ll track them. I’ve been able to hone my skills in the war.”
“Mr. Barnett!” Andy came running from around the back of the house. “Mr. Barnett, Juanita said you were going to find Hannah. Can I come with you? Please?”
His breathles
s pleadings touched William. “I’m sorry, Andy. I need to travel fast. Besides, I need you to stay here and take care of Marty and your guests. You’re the man of the house now. Can you help me with this?”
Andy seemed to actually grow taller. He looked at William and then Tyler. “I can take care of them.”
“Tyler will be here if you need his help.”
“That’s right,” Tyler said. “You just let me know what I can do.”
Andy nodded then frowned. “Will the Indians hurt Hannah?”
William didn’t want to lie to the boy, but neither did he want to frighten him. “Well, I don’t figure they sent Night Bear here to hurt her. Juanita said the Comanche are sick and that the chief asked for Miss . . . for Hannah to come tend them. So I figure she’s all right.”
“Then why are you going after her?” he asked, his eyes never leaving William’s face.
“Because she will probably need help.”
Andy considered this for a moment. “I reckon she will.”
William opened his saddlebags when he saw Juanita approaching with a handful of items. Pepita followed with a bulging flour sack.
“I put in more herbs for Miss Hannah. I put in tortillas and meat for you.”
He took the cloth-wrapped food and stuffed it into one side, then put the herbs in the other. Pepita handed him the flour sack.
“We tore up old sheets to make cloths for washing and bandaging,” Juanita explained. “We put in vinegar, too. Miss Hannah took some, but she will probably want more. It help with the itching and wounds.”
“Thank you. I’m sure Miss Dandridge will be grateful for these.”
Just then Berto returned with the sorrel. “He’s ready.”
William hung the flour sack around the horn, then threw the bags on behind the saddle. Grabbing the reins from Berto, William hoisted himself up into the saddle, ignoring the pain that shot through his thigh. There wasn’t time to favor his injury, and William wasn’t about to let on that he was hurting.
“Here, take this,” Tyler said, tossing up a canteen. “It’s full. I filled it in that stream we crossed about a mile back.”
Taking the canteen in hand, William gave Tyler a nod of thanks. “I’ll track out to the north. Since Juanita said they didn’t expect to reach the village until late in the night I have a feeling I know where they’ve gone.”
“Tierra del Diablo?” Berto asked.
“That’s my guess. A lot of good hiding places are in the Land of the Devil, and it’s one of the Comanches’ favorite places because the buffalo like to wander through there from time to time.”
“How long do you think you’ll be?” Tyler asked. “Should we come lookin’ for you if you aren’t back tomorrow?”
“No. Like I said, if you show up there, the warriors may see it as an aggressive act. If they will allow me to enter and help, I’ll do what I can before I return with Miss Dandridge. Andy, take good care of your little sister.”
“I will, I promise.”
With a nudge of his heels, William moved the sorrel out across the yard. His anger faded in light of his growing concern. What in the world had Hannah been thinking to go off to a Comanche village on her own? No doubt she felt sorry for the Numunuu. But even if that was the case, she could do very little in the face of smallpox. And what if she took sick? Had she had the cowpox vaccine? The army had seen to it that he had. He’d suffered through with a mild case of fever and blistering, but nothing like the full force of the disease.
William forced himself to focus on tracking. At the top of the hill he dismounted and studied the ground, looking for signs.
The trail was easy to pick up. The ground had been fairly soft when they’d gone out, but since there’d been no other rain, the tracks remained. William remounted and headed out. At this rate he would have an easy time of following the two horses. One shod. One shoeless.
His mind raced with thoughts of what he’d say and do when he found Hannah. He didn’t want to cause problems with the Comanche. If they were suffering a small pox epidemic that would be trouble enough. Even so, it was no place for a gentle-born woman like Hannah Dandridge, and he intended to rebuke her for this nonsense. William ran a hand through his hair. Good grief, the woman needed a keeper. Her life and responsibilities were just as he’d said—there on the ranch looking after her brother and sister.
Hannah’s image filled his mind. China doll features with hair the color of rich earth. Blue eyes surrounded by sooty black lashes. And her rose-colored lips.
William kicked the horse harder than he’d intended, as if he could throw off the disturbing thoughts by pushing the animal to run.
Hannah Dandridge was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Juanita said she learned quickly and showed limitless endurance. Not only this, but Hannah had formed a friendship with Juanita, disregarding her status or race.
“Miss Hannah she no complain,” Juanita had told him one night after dinner. “Her papa is hard to live with, but she good to him. I see her heart hurting when he is in his anger, but she never say anything bad to me. She love him very much.”
“She sure doesn’t have any problem speaking her mind with me,” William muttered. Except of late.
He frowned and slowed his horse lest he lose the trail. Hannah had been guarded with him in their last encounters. Before, she had been feisty and strong willed, but the last time he’d talked to her had been different. She’d held herself aloof and her comments were stilted and to the point. What had caused the change? More troubling still: Why did it bother him so much?
By the time darkness washed over the plains, William felt confident that Tierra del Diablo was the right destination. He knew there would be no way to discern the trail without light. Navigating the narrow sloping path wouldn’t be easy, yet he hesitated to dismount. By the time he reached a fork in the trail, William knew he’d have to do something.
He brought the horse to a halt and listened. He could hear the ripple of water—nothing too big—just a small creek most likely. He knew further beyond the rocks there was a river and most likely the camp would be somewhere in that vicinity. He just needed to figure out which way to go.
Hannah moved from tepee to tepee. Many of the Numunuu had already died—mostly those who were older or very young, and therefore less capable of fighting the disease. The younger warriors were holding up better, as were some of their women. Even so, a band that had once been over seventy in number was now only thirty or so. Her presence in their camp brought surprise and scowls at first, but as the people grew progressively sicker, Hannah’s ministerings were welcomed. She bathed the sick over and over using what vinegar she had. Diluting it with more water than she would have normally used had allowed it to go further, but now that meager supply was gone. So, too, the willow bark, herbs, and her food.
The same two men who had helped her the night of her arrival seemed somehow immune to the disease. Red Dog and Running Buffalo spoke very little English, but through a series of hand gestures, Hannah was able to make her requests known. It puzzled her as to why they’d not taken the illness. Perhaps they had taken the vaccine at some point or perhaps they had some sort of natural immunity. Either way, she was grateful for their help, especially since they were doing women’s work. Night Bear had explained the situation to her and in turn, Hannah instructed him to let the men know that in doing these tasks they would be heroes—saviors of a sort to their people. The men seemed to accept this, although their apprehension of Hannah was still apparent.
Smallpox symptoms took anywhere from one to two weeks to appear after exposure. The entire camp had apparently received their original exposure a couple of weeks earlier, because most were in the stage of the illness where blisters were forming. Once these filled with fluid and then pus, Hannah knew it could take weeks for the sores to all scab and fall off. Until then, the Numunuu would be contagious.
Hannah tried to figure out what she should do about getting word back to her family. She obv
iously couldn’t leave to do it herself. She had no idea of how to get back to the ranch. On the journey with Night Bear, Hannah had tried to keep landmarks in her mind, but the last part of the journey had been dark and she couldn’t really trust that her memory would serve her all that well. She’d been exhausted when they’d arrived in camp, and that had only increased by immediately going to work to help the sick. She had managed a brief nap that afternoon, but otherwise she was just forcing herself to stay awake through the evening.
He Who Walks in Darkness was in the pustule stage of the pox and was running a fever again. His body was working to fight the infection, but Hannah wasn’t at all sure he would live. His wife, Little Bird, was almost certain to die. She showed no signs of fighting the disease, and every time Hannah checked on her, the woman seemed to be losing ground. Night Bear, although ill, seemed to have a very mild case. He was weak and had begun developing blisters, but they were few and smaller. Hannah prayed that he might have an easier time of it.
Coming to the chief’s tepee, Hannah entered with a basin of warm water and a towel. She moved first to check on Night Bear. He was sleeping soundly on his pallet. The fire had recently been stoked due to Hannah’s insistence that the warmth of the enclosure be maintained. Red Dog and Running Buffalo kept the fuel and water supplies stocked. They also managed to bring in food. At first Hannah refused. She had some of her own supplies left and that was enough to satisfy her needs. However, she’d run out of food earlier in the day, having eaten the last of her tortillas.
“Have many died?” He Who Walks in Darkness asked.
Hannah knelt beside the chief. “Yes. Over half the people are dead. Many of the others are sick and may well die.”
He closed his eyes and grimaced. Hannah washed him with the warm water and wondered at the Comanche’s spiritual convictions. Did they believe in God? Or did they worship creation? She’d heard that some tribes honored a long list of spirits.
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