Tully glanced at the door to the back room, then threw up his hands dramatically. “So maybe she fell in love. What the hell difference does it make?” He studied Jason carefully. “Seems to me you’re lettin’ old hurts get to ya.”
Jason refused to allow old memories to interfere. “I just don’t believe she’s everything you think she is.” He opened another leather bag and dropped a handful of lollipops on top of some clean white flannel squares and a large jar of salve.
“Well,” Tully added sarcastically, “she sure as hell ain’t everything you seem to think she is.”
It was unusual for the two of them to lock horns like this. “And how do you know that?”
Tully lowered his voice again. “Did you know her ma and pa was murdered by Injuns when she was just a little thing? And that the Injun what killed ’em worked at their spread and was almost considered family?”
Jason froze, then forced himself to continue packing. He didn’t want to hear this. “No. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t ya think it might make a gal a tad wary, havin’ her folks and her husband done in by savages?”
Although Jason bristled at the use of that word, he felt himself soften a little toward Rachel, too. There were times when he could have ridden the fence on the subject of who suffered more from the Indian-White conflict. But there was no doubt in his mind that the Indian was always the underdog, and though most of his sympathy went to them, he’d seen a few white women and children who hadn’t deserved the punishment they were given. Both sides mourned their dead.
So Rachel Weber was afraid of Indians. That wasn’t news, but now at least he knew why she skittered about like a scared mouse. Now that he’d learned this news about her parents, he was surprised she’d taken him up on his offer at all. “Is that what she told you?”
He nodded. “Me ‘n’ Ivy.”
“That’s all well and good, Earl,” he said as he swung the bags off his desk and headed for the front door, “but I need someone I can count on. Not someone who’s going to hide in a corner when I need her the most. Tell her to start looking for another job.”
Tully was behind him in a shot, bad leg and all. He grabbed Jason’s forearm, his beefy fingers biting into the muscle. “Gawdammit, Jason, if you’re gonna get rid of her, you’ll have to do it yerself. I ain’t doin’ any dirty work for you, especially if it means hurtin’ Rachel.”
He was right of course, and Jason knew it. “All right,” he answered reluctantly. “Tell her to stay here and watch the office. I’ll get Nellie or someone else to help me at the reservation.” But he still knew Rachel Weber was going to be as useless to him in the long run as, to put it in one of Ivy’s unique phrases, “Tits on a bull.”
Rachel stepped into the room after Jason had left. There had been no way to avoid Jason and the marshal’s conversation, save covering her ears. Not only did she feel worthless, but she felt like a fool as well.
Tully crossed the room and attempted to console her.
“No,” she said softly, pushing him away. “Everything he said was true.”
He gave her a gentle grin. “That maybe you’re a spy?”
She tried to smile, but failed. “No, but—”
“That you come to town with your nose in the air?”
“No, of course not. But I am afraid of Indians, and I’ve hated them for so long, I don’t know if I can ever change. I thought I could. I really wanted to try…”
“So, what’s stoppin’ ya?”
She swallowed hard. “I couldn’t go out there,” she answered, forcing down her panic. “Not now. Not ever again.” Twisting in her fists the damp cloth she’d used to bring down Karleen’s fever, she added, “After I picked up my clothes at the cottage, I told myself I’d never have to go near that place again.”
Tully finally lit his cigarette. “I don’t blame ya.” He blew out a cloud of smoke and dropped the match into the spittoon.
Rachel frowned. She’d thought he would try to convince her otherwise. “You don’t?”
He shook his head expansively. “Doc can get someone else to help. It ain’t no place for a white gal, anyways.”
Wondering why the marshal’s words hadn’t made her feel better, she walked to the window. “You’re right, of course. And,” she added, looking back at him, “…and I’d just be in the way, wouldn’t I?”
Tully pulled smoke in through his nostrils, then blew out a sequence of rings. “Nellie’s worked with him before. And these are her people. White folks ain’t much welcome out there, anyhow. Nellie’s one of a kind. A gem. A real trooper, if ya know what I mean.”
And I’m not. She felt a tiny prick of envy. “I’d like to meet her sometime. She sounds like quite a treasure. Why doesn’t she work here?”
“Never could get along with the doc more’n a few days at a time.”
“Why not?” For some foolish reason, it made her feel good to know Dr. Gaspard couldn’t keep decent help. She knew all too well how hard he was to work with—and for.
“Nellie still likes to use a lot of tribal medicine. Doc Gaspard wouldn’t mind, but she bullies her way into his practice whenever she can.” He clucked his tongue. “Stubborn Injun is what she is.”
Rachel envisioned a tiny, old Indian woman bullying Jason and she almost laughed. “But she will help him at the reservation?”
“Oh, yeah.” He took another long drag on his cigarette. “ ’Course, it won’t be easy for the two of them, seein’ as how there’ll be so many children to care for, all coughin’ and cryin’ because of the smoke, achin’ for someone to just hold ’em. But,” he added quickly, “that don’t make no difference.”
Rachel’s heart dropped. “Children?”
He nodded, knitting his bushy gray eyebrows nobly. “Yeah, poor little critters. But don’t you worry none about it. You stay right here and take care of Karleen. And, when Karleen’s ready to go back to the saloon, you jes’ stick around and keep things tidy. Doc’ll appreciate that.”
She made a face. Sure, stick around and tidy up, Rachel. That was what she’d always been good for. “No.”
Tully gave her an innocent look of surprise. “What say?”
“No. I can’t possibly just sit around here, knowing there are children out there who might need me.”
He gave her a stern glance. “Naw. You don’t wanna go out there, Rachel. It’ll be too tough on ya.”
She couldn’t believe he’d continue to discourage her this way. “Marshal, I have to.”
Tully shook his head again. “I don’t advise it, Rachel, honey. You’re too delicate. You wouldn’t last a day.”
Feeling a bite of anger, she answered, “I’m a lot stronger than I look.” That bite was sinking its teeth into her lethargic manner more and more often lately.
He appeared to consider what she’d said, looking her up and down, scrutinizing her small frame. He sighed. “Nope, I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.”
“But… but I can, really. I’m strong.” Suddenly her anger burst forth. “And don’t you dare pigeonhole me, Earl Tully, it’s not fair.” She felt her color rising and tears of frustration welling, but suddenly she didn’t care.
Tully rubbed his hand across his mouth. “You know the reservation’s gonna be a hard place to stay. Ain’t no fancy meals or sleepin’ arrangements,” he warned.
Rachel was already prepared, reminding her inner voice that she had to do this for the children—and herself. And, oddly enough, she refused to be bested by this Nellie Bluehorse person, whoever she was. “I don’t care about that. I’ll survive.”
“You’re sure, now?”
“I’m positive.” She turned on him sharply. “Is there someone else who could watch Karleen for the night? She should be able to go back to the… the saloon tomorrow.”
Tully appeared to suck in a smile. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, gal. Tomorrow will be soon enough to get to the reservation.”
He snubbed out his cigarette. “I’ll take you there myself. Be ready at dawn. Bring warm clothes.”
Rachel nodded, feeling a burst of excitement as she walked the marshal to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“Right,” he answered, slipping into his fleece-lined jacket. “And I’ll stop by and tell Bram to pick up Karleen either tonight, or at first light tomorrow. And Rachel.”
“Yes?”
He gave her a broad grin. “I’m proud of ya, gal.”
She matched his grin and knew that her eyes were shining with nervous excitement. Catching a glimpse of his face as he limped away, she saw that it was wreathed in a broad, amused smile.
“Why, that old—” Her own smile turned lopsided and she shook her head. She’d been cleverly, but royally, flimflammed.
Jason closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He and Nellie had worked straight through the night. More people had suffered because of the fire than Tully had imagined. One of Nell’s nephews, the older one, already had a problem breathing. For some reason, he’d awakened during the fire and wandered toward it before anyone noticed he was there. Poor little tyke was still wheezing.
And he wasn’t alone. The normally hushed winter night air had been punctuated with deep, bronchial coughs and the wailing cries of children.
He left Nell’s sister’s house and stepped outside. Bracing himself against the cold morning air, he dragged it into his lungs, watching it congeal into white vapor as he exhaled. The smell of smoke still drifted heavily on the light breeze. They’d been lucky the winds hadn’t picked up until toward morning when all traces of the fire were out.
Glancing at the snow-fringed skyline, he watched the wind unravel the cloud cover. He loved it out here—always had. Many nights during his youth, after an argument with his father, he’d come here and stayed for days. The reservation had been new then, fresh, clean and well run. It hadn’t been until years later that he learned why the old ones were so unhappy to be here. For him it had been an escape from a stern, hard parent.
The rolling mounds of the Cascade foothills folded and dipped, then swelled and parted, revealing more of the same, until one finally saw the thickly shadowed pines near the top of the peaks and the brilliant snow beneath them. It had been a wet winter so far, but not cold. More rain had fallen than snow, the massy gray clouds having dropped enough to turn the grass and the trees on the slopes a thousand variations of green, black, and even purple.
Wailing, from inside the house, brought him back to reality. He and Nellie could handle it alone, but it would be nice to have more help. He knew his mother would have come if she’d been home. He didn’t expect his parents back from Washington, D.C., until next month. It would be nice if Rachel were here. His mouth curled into a snarl even as his mind welcomed the thought.
But Rachel wouldn’t come. No, dammit, not Rachel. He wasn’t surprised. What surprised him was that he even cared. His whole reason for hiring her in the first place had been curiosity. And he knew she needed traveling money. The least she could have done was fulfill her part of the bargain. He’d warned her about his clientele and he’d seen the distaste and the fear in her eyes. He should have based his decision on that observation, not his restless, curious need to have her around.
Nellie ambled up to him, appearing as weary as he. Herbal doctor for the reservation Indians, and any others who cared to use her, she was slightly older than Jason. They’d known each other most of their lives—and butted heads ever since Jason had returned from medical school. “Breakfast is cookin’, boss.”
He draped his arm across her sturdy shoulders. “Sounds good to me, Nell. I could eat an elephant, hide and all.”
She leaned against him and put her arm around his waist as they crossed the dewy grass to the warm cooking-pit fire. A number of people huddled around the blaze, more for comfort and companionship than because they’d lost their homes, because most of them hadn’t.
“Settle for tortillas, beans, and fry bread?”
He drew in a breath, the scent of the spicy bean mixture reaching his nostrils. “Even better.”
She punched his chest lightly with her fist. “We work good together.”
He laughed. “For a day or two.”
“You just have to be reminded that Indian medicine is as good as white man’s medicine.”
Jason sighed. “Sometimes it’s better, Nell, I don’t argue that.”
“Then why do we fight?”
Because you can argue the hind leg off a jackass. “Because we both feel we’re right, I guess.”
A buckboard rattled up the road toward them.
Nellie shaded her eyes with her hand. “Who’s that?”
Jason shrugged, then recognized Earl Tully’s gray mustache. “It’s the marshal.”
“Who’s with him, then? Must be Ivy.”
He squinted at the tiny form sitting beside Earl, enveloped in the dark wool cape. A funny jolt licked at his loins, bringing about an instant tightening and desire. “No,” he answered, an odd mixture of feelings washing over him, “it’s not Ivy.”
Rachel huddled inside the warmth of her cape, her teeth clenched and her hands pinched together. Ever since they’d passed the cottage with the drooping sunflowers and hollyhocks, she’d had to force herself not to leap from the wagon and run back to town. She’d never been this far into the reservation before; Jeremy had told her it wasn’t safe.
Yesterday’s bravado with the marshal came back to haunt her. When she realized she’d been hoodwinked into this, she hadn’t cared. She’d been going to prove to everyone, especially to herself, that she could overcome her hatred and her fears. Suddenly, as they pushed closer and closer to the reservation itself, she knew it wasn’t possible. I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this.
“How ya doin’, Rachel?” The marshal’s voice was comforting. She hoped he’d stay for a while.
“Fine… just… just fine,” she lied, taking a deep, shaky breath. The hood of her cape flopped low on her forehead, so she raised her head slightly and looked around. The remnants of a building lay charred and smoldering across the road and under the trees. She quickly pulled her gaze away, the sight of the ruin distressing her.
There was a large, communal fire burning in an open space ahead of them. Her stomach pitched when she recognized Jason, his arm around the shoulders of a tall Indian woman. A strange envy washed over her, and she quickly looked away.
“Mornin’, Doc, Nellie,” Tully called out, pulling the team to a stop beside them.
“Who’s that you got there, Earl?”
The woman called Nellie disengaged herself from Jason’s embrace and crossed to the wagon. She peered up at Rachel, her black eyes wide and curious in her round face.
Jealousy flared in Rachel’s chest. So, she thought, this is trooper Nellie. The gem. Everyone’s herbal sweetheart. Feeling instant remorse for her petty thoughts, Rachel glanced quickly away.
“This here’s doc’s nurse,” he answered.
“His what?” Nellie’s voice exploded as she turned to stare at Jason.
Rachel felt herself flush, and there was a nervous quiver in her stomach. This Nellie person detested her without even knowing her.
“This here’s Rachel Weber, Nell.”
The woman turned to glare at Rachel, then spun around again, giving Jason a look of disbelief. “You hired her?”
Rachel pushed down her feelings of fear and discomfort. She hugged herself beneath her cape, dreading the time she’d have to spend at this place. This cold, backward place filled with sullen, surly savages.
“Now, Doc,” the marshal scolded, “don’t tell me you didn’t tell Nell about your new nurse.”
Jason’s eyebrows slammed down over his eyes and he gave the marshal a lethal look. He shifted uncomfortably and raked his fingers through his hair. “Well, I—”
“Nell, you should be grateful the doc has some help.”
Nellie made a distasteful face. “But… her?”
Oh, Lord, thought Rachel, why didn’t the woman simply hit her with a shovel? It surely couldn’t be any more terrible than sitting up on the buckboard, the target of her obvious, but inexplicable hostility.
The marshal ignored Nellie’s comment. “We had to make sure Karleen got settled back at her place. It took a bit of doin’, otherwise we’d have been here last night. Right, Rachel?”
Rachel’s gaze didn’t leave her lap. Marshal Tully was trying to save her hide, and she appreciated it, but Jason knew better. She refused to look at him, not wanting to see what would be in his eyes.
“Well, we got Karleen settled this mornin’. Bram came by early, and we got here as soon as we could.” The marshal sounded so matter-of-fact, one would have thought it had all been planned before Jason even left the office yesterday. Rachel was grateful, but embarrassed that he had to cover for her.
Jason stepped closer to the wagon. “Karleen’s fever is down, then?”
He was talking to her. She guessed she’d have to look at him. When she did, she sincerely wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t read the message in his sensual, hooded eyes, but she got lost in them anyway.
With an effort, she forced her gaze back to her lap. “Yes, she was much better this morning. Bram… Mr. Justice said he’d make sure Tess kept an eye on her, just in case. And… and Ivy will look in on her, too.” It wasn’t necessary to tell him she and Karleen hadn’t found it imperative to carry on much of a conversation. Although Rachel didn’t think Karleen had been aware of what she’d said during her lapse into delirium, she was acutely aware of who Rachel was. And Rachel, coward that she was, couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject of Jeremy, for it would have verbalized, once and for all, her fears about his infidelity.
“Nell,” Jason said, finally turning away, “get Rachel settled in with Dixie, then show her what we’re doing.”
Heat of a Savage Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book Two Page 9