The Doctor's Lady

by Jody Hedlund; Donna Vanliere

  Priscilla sucked in a breath, unable to imagine the torment Eli must have experienced at that moment.

  “Somehow in his drunkenness he’d let the latch of the door fall, and I couldn’t get to him. I stood outside the window and screamed and banged on the glass. Finally, I smashed my fists through it, crawled through the shards, cut up my face, hands, and legs. . . . By the time I got to him, the smoke had already killed him.”

  “Oh, Eli.” An ache formed in her throat. She reached for his scarred hands.

  For an instant he pulled away, but then he stopped.

  She laced her fingers through his. When she met his gaze, the sharp pain there radiated through her chest and brought tears to her eyes.

  “My ma never stopped blaming me for his death,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “But it wasn’t your fault. If he hadn’t gotten drunk . . . If he had been more responsible with his pipe . . .”

  “But I wasn’t there. And I should have been.”

  She grazed her fingers across the raised skin of his scars, shuddering at the picture of his lacerated bloody flesh. “Your mother has no right to hold you responsible for your father’s foolishness.”

  “I hold myself responsible.”

  She shifted to face him, lifted one of his hands, and grazed her lips along the long white lines.

  His breath hitched.

  “I can’t imagine the pain and fear you must have experienced.” She released his hand and traced the scar along his cheek. “But you cannot take responsibility for everyone and everything.”

  He raised his fingers to her cheek and touched the tears she hadn’t realized had spilled over.

  “You aren’t God,” she whispered. “You’re human. And humans fail.”

  In the shadows of their makeshift shelter, his face was only inches from hers. “I vowed that I wouldn’t fail like that again.”

  She swept his hair away from his neck, the tenderness of his vulnerability giving her boldness. “We all make mistakes.”

  “I’m realizing that I’m pretty good at making them.” His gaze hung on to hers and wouldn’t let go. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes with us, haven’t I?”

  The hurt of the past weeks rushed over her, but so did all of the memories of the ways Eli had cared for her—how he’d labored day and night to save her, how he’d tried to strap her trunk onto the mule, how he’d wanted to bring her anyway, even though he’d had the perfect chance to leave her behind. She swallowed the sudden lump and dipped her head, afraid to say what was in her heart and aching for him to reveal what was in his.

  His fingers went to her chin, and he forced her head back up. “I’m sorry, Priscilla. Sorry for hurting you.” His voice cracked. “I wish I could take back the things I said, especially for embarrassing you in front of everybody. Squire baited me, and I fell into his trap. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  As mortified as she’d been at the time, deep inside she knew the others would have discovered their predicament eventually, the same way Henry had. She would have spared herself the heartache had she just lived openly and honestly from the start—as Eli had suggested.

  Why had it been so important to keep everything private? Now that she’d shared her infertility with Mabel, she found herself wealthier for having done so. She drank in Mabel’s encouragement and understanding. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she and her family had chosen to share the burden with others right from the start—how different things might have been.

  “And I’m sorry for not standing up to Squire and fighting for David.”

  The ache in her chest swelled.

  “I don’t know if it would have made any difference, but I could have tried harder. I know how important the baby was to you.”

  If she spoke she knew she’d sob.

  “Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

  Could she? She hesitated. What more could Eli have done to stop Squire? He would have only gotten himself killed.

  Suddenly, the blanket of their shelter caved in upon their heads.

  The scratchy wool fell against her face, and she gave a startled cry.

  Eli scrambled to untangle them from the smothering cover. It took him only an instant to pull the blanket off, leaving them blinking in the bright sunshine.

  He sat up and glanced around.

  The only one nearby was Richard, and he was leaning against his horse, brushing it with long, smooth strokes.

  When Eli raised his brow at the boy, Richard only glared back at them, his face sullen.

  “I don’t understand what’s gotten into him lately,” Eli murmured.

  The gleam in Richard’s eyes told her he’d purposefully kicked the shelter in on them.

  “I’ve tried talking with him,” Eli said, “but he won’t say much.”

  “He’s still grieving over John. Maybe I should talk with him.”

  “Maybe you should,” Eli joked, “before he decides to kill me.”

  McLeod had left them earlier in the morning to hunt. They’d expected him to return during their nooning. Eli paced, his anxiety escalating with each wasted minute.

  When McLeod and a few of his trappers finally rode into camp at three o’clock, loaded with over twenty ducks they’d shot, Eli took one look at the men and the resigned looks on their faces, and his heart sank with dread.

  “Ma’am.” McLeod dismounted in front of Priscilla and dropped half of the fowl at her feet. “For you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McLeod. You’re too kind,” she said. Then she turned her wide kitten eyes upon Eli. “Roasted duck. It will be a taste of home, won’t it?”

  He tried to hide the anxiousness from his face and voice. “After the maggoty pemmican, I’d say it’ll be more like a taste of heaven.”

  She gave a mock gasp and her eyes danced with laughter. “Why, Dr. Ernest, I thought pemmican was your favorite food.”

  With a slow grin, he let his gaze linger on her lips. “I think you’ll find that I’m a man with a very big appetite.”

  “In that case, I’ll have Mabel help me find some camas to cook with the duck.” She turned away, but not before he caught sight of a rosy blush blooming in her cheeks.

  They’d begun to find the camas root in abundance. It was a staple food of the Nez Perce. Even though it resembled an onion in shape and color, when cooked it was sweet, like a fig.

  “Doc, my men are getting anxious to reach Walla Walla,” McLeod said after Priscilla went to find Mabel. His eyes took on a seriousness that sent a shiver of trepidation through Eli.

  “We’re all tired of the trail.”

  McLeod nodded to his horses and mules. “Your animals are worn out. And they’re slowing us down.”

  Two of his mules and one of the horses had almost entirely given out. The terrain was rough on them and the packs on their backs heavy. “Maybe I can lighten their loads.”

  McLeod glanced at Priscilla and Mabel. “It’s not just the animals.”

  Eli swallowed hard. They’d gone slower for the women too. Both tired easily, Mabel from her ever-growing pregnancy and Priscilla still weak from the cholera. “Maybe we can cut back on the breaks we take.”

  McLeod met his gaze head on. “I’ve already made my decision. We’re splitting up.”

  Eli’s heart fell to the bottom of his ribcage.

  “I’m leaving my most trustworthy man to guide you the rest of the way. Then you can go as slowly as you need.”

  “But what about our safety? Wouldn’t we be safer with the large group?”

  “The Indians hereabout are friendly enough—mostly Cayuse and Nez Perce. You shouldn’t have any trouble with them.”

  Eli’s gut roiled. “I don’t like it, McLeod. We’ve come this far. What’s a few more days?”

  “My men and I could have been there by now, and they’re grumbling about it.”

  Eli poked the tip of his boot into one of the lifeless fowl. He didn’t have a right to demand anything mor
e of McLeod. The man had already done more for them than he could ever repay.

  Pressing his lips together, Eli stared into the distance to the Blue Mountains. With each passing day, they didn’t seem to move any closer.

  And with each passing day, the dangers grew more significant. September would soon be upon them, along with cooler temperatures, especially once they started ascending to the higher elevations. They needed to make the pass through the mountains soon, before the temperatures dropped too low and the first significant snow fell.

  Discouragement twisted through Eli. They had so little time left to make it to Walla Walla.

  “Be honest with me, McLeod. If I keep going with the women, will we make it?”

  “I’ve already pushed you as fast as you can go.” McLeod’s voice was laced with regret. “If you try to go any faster, you’ll chance them dropping from exhaustion or illness.”

  Eli nodded. Even though Priscilla had grown stronger, she was still much too weak to push harder.

  “But if you continue at your current pace, barring no further problems—and if the snow holds off—you’ll be on track to reach Fort Walla Walla in less than two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” Eli almost groaned. Two weeks was too long. How would they ever make it in time?

  “You might be safer heading back to Snake Fort.” McLeod’s overgrown eyebrows framed grave eyes. “Mr. Kay might not have enough supplies to feed you through the winter, but at least you’d have a better chance of surviving there than if you got stuck in the mountains.”

  Eli blew out a long breath.

  He glanced at Priscilla, to the graceful outline of her body as she bent over a nearby camas plant. She was thinner than when they’d started months ago but was just as beautiful. And if he’d thought she was beautiful on the outside, he’d learned she was even more so on the inside.

  She’d come thousands of miles, had survived river crossings, treacherous trappers, poor food rations, and even cholera. And she’d borne it better than any lady ever could. If she could survive the dangerous trip, wouldn’t she be able to survive life in the West?

  And now that they’d made it this far together, how could he ever make her go home?

  Agony pounded through his head.

  All he knew was that he didn’t want to go one step forward without her, even if it meant that he’d have to go back to Snake Fort and wait out the winter there. With her.

  They’d be together, and suddenly that was more important than anything else.

  He nodded at McLeod. “We’ll go as far and do as much as we can. And we’ll have to trust the Almighty for the rest.”

  They rode with McLeod and his men to the Lone Tree in the valley of the Powder River, where they dismounted to make their evening camp. Then with slumped shoulders, they watched the trappers ride on without them.

  A breeze lifted the damp strands of hair from Eli’s neck. He took off his hat and let the wind cool his forehead too.

  Priscilla edged next to him. For a long moment she didn’t say anything as the horses and men disappeared over the dusty horizon with the thin sinews of the sunset bleeding across the sky.

  “This is my fault, isn’t it?” Her voice was quiet and resigned.

  Keen disappointment rammed through every blood cell. Everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish over the past year was riding away into the distance.

  She sighed and stepped away from him. “I’m sorry, Eli. I should have stayed at Snake Fort—”

  “No.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her against his chest.

  She fell against him with a gasp, her body stiff.

  His arms circled her waist and pinned her in place so that even if she’d tried to escape from him she couldn’t.

  “We’re staying together.” His whisper was harsh.

  The silky loose strands of her hair blew against his lips. He released a long breath and softened his voice. “Wherever that might be, I want us to be together.”

  Her body melted against him. Then her arms snaked around his middle, and she rested her cheek against his chest.

  His heart filled with something strange and new. Boldly, he tugged her bonnet off and let it hang down her back.

  He let his lips caress the soft gold of her hair. Then with a sigh, he rested his chin on her head, tightened his hold, and stared at the horizon, praying he would have enough courage to do the right thing when the time came.

  Chapter

  26

  September 1836

  Blue Mountain Range

  Eli didn’t have to say anything for Priscilla to understand the gravity of their situation. His silence spoke loudly enough.

  For days they’d been traveling gradually higher, always trying to go faster, but she knew it wasn’t fast enough.

  Finally the Blue Mountain Range loomed before them, rising up out of the earth like a wall they had to climb—the last barrier between them and their new home.

  “Stay close together,” Eli shouted as they began their ascent. He glanced around at the dark shadows of the forest warily.

  But Priscilla eyed the range with budding hope.

  The slopes were covered with spruce and ponderosa pine. The coolness of their shade was a pleasant change from the days traveling through the dry, desertlike terrain they’d traversed for the past week. The chattering songs of the familiar chickadees and jays echoed through the woods and reminded her of the hills around Allegany County.

  Surely the mountain wouldn’t give them trouble, not when it beckoned them with its beauty.

  She longed to linger and gather a handful of the wild flowers, especially the bright bluish purple lupines. But Eli urged them steadily upward. And she was determined she wouldn’t slow them down any more than she already had.

  Eli hadn’t complained, not even one grumble. But the tenseness of his shoulders testified to the load of responsibility he’d placed upon himself.

  It took them most of the day to reach the summit of the first peak. Priscilla wanted to cheer as her horse stumbled to the narrow level table.

  But the victory was short-lived. A length of mountain sloped downward before them—the steepest she’d ever seen. The air had grown noticeably cooler, and she shivered, pulling her shawl tighter. The sun had disappeared behind clouds that seemed altogether too close.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” she said when Eli patted the head of her horse. Even the beast was balking, snorting in fright at the sight of the rocky climb down.

  “I’ll be leading the horses and mules right ahead of you.” Eli held out a handful of lupines. “Maybe these will help.”

  The sudden smile in her heart made its way to her lips. “How did you know I’d been longing for a breath of them?”

  “Don’t you know I have eyes in the back of my head?”

  She reached for the flowers, letting her fingers linger against his. The gentleness of his touch always went straight to her heart and stole her breath away. She lifted the bright bouquet to her face and buried her nose in the fresh wild beauty, drawing in the sweet aroma.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  When she lifted her gaze to his, the window to his soul was open wide, and his desire for her was as clear as the water of the nearby mountain creek.

  “You know I’ll expect a proper thank-you later.”

  Her cheeks flushed. His eyes sent her a message, the kind of message that said he would lift her off her horse and crush her in his arms and kiss her if he could.

  She nibbled her lip. And bittersweet longing welled up within her. She’d tasted his kisses and couldn’t deny her hunger for more of them. But what could possibly come of it?

  He might have told her he wanted them to stay together, but that didn’t mean he was ready to change their agreement. He’d continued to keep their relationship platonic, just as he’d always done.

  Was she delusional to think he could want to change their arrangement now, after all the months of his resistance?


  “Tonight, when we make camp, you can thank me.” He tossed her a grin and left her reeling with confusion and desire.

  They made their way down the cliff with painstakingly slow steps, zigzagging all the way. The men went by foot and led the animals, while she and Mabel clung to their saddles with dread.

  By the time they made it to the bottom, darkness had settled in. They could hardly see to make camp. The temperature had dropped, and after Priscilla slid from her horse in exhaustion, all she could do was snuggle next to Mabel for warmth. She knew Eli wouldn’t be able to come for his thank-you—if he’d even been serious about it in the first place.

  Priscilla slept fitfully, the calls of wild animals somewhere in the distance echoing through the thin air.

  When they awoke in the morning, a light dusting of snow covered the ground. She could hardly make her stiff limbs work to climb back onto her horse. She only needed one look at Eli’s ragged expression to know he hadn’t slept at all.

  An icy mixture of rain and snow began to fall as they started up a steeper and more dreadful climb. If McLeod’s man hadn’t been leading them, she would have guessed that somewhere, somehow, they had made a wrong turn. The rocky route was covered in places with black, broken basalt, and she couldn’t imagine God had ever intended it for man or beast.

  But they climbed onward, slipping and sliding over the treacherous trail. By evening they reached the highest elevation of the pass. After yet another dinner of cold duck, they traveled along the main divide, searching for water for the animals and a safe camping place.

  When the sun dipped beyond the horizon, she gazed with awe at the sunset gloriously displayed between the two distant conical peaks of Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens. Lying before them was the grandeur of the Columbia River Valley, and somewhere in the middle of it all, their new home waited for them—if they could make it out of the mountains alive.

  Big flakes of snow began to fall, and she huddled against Mabel. The woman had slipped into a weary slumber the moment they’d laid their bedrolls on the damp ground. But Priscilla couldn’t stop from shuddering as she listened to Henry and Eli and their guide argue in hushed tones.