An Agent for Josie

by P. Creeden

  She shook her head. “But I want to see if I can afford to pay off their debts myself. Perhaps if I could make it so that they are even with you, you could allow them to—”

  “Now hold on there, young lady. The people around here are proud folks. They don’t like to ask for charity.”

  Her hands fisted at her sides. “Charity? I’m not offering them charity. I’m offering them a loan so that they can get the supplies they need in order to overcome this drought.”

  “Listen,” Mr. Finney said, leaning forward on his counter. “You can call it a loan or anything you like, but you’re not going to be fooling anyone. They will know charity when they smell it. Also, you don’t know how long this drought is going to be. No one does. The Indian tribes around here are doing rain dances. A man came in during the fall of last year with a dowsing rod and people paid him good money to help them find places to dig wells. A fat lot of good it did them. The only thing we can do is wait it out and pray for rain. That’s what the farmers are doing—it’s what we’re all doing.”

  A frown tugged hard at Josie’s lips. She swallowed and looked around again. Then she pointed at the bottles of preserves that the man had. “Fine. How many bottles of marmalade do you have?”

  “About twenty,” he said, straightening up once more.

  “I’ll take them all.” Josie knew this wasn’t going to solve the problem, but she hoped that maybe she could at least slow things down a bit. If each person ate a teaspoon of marmalade per day, perhaps the jar would last a week. It would help. Each patient would feel the effects immediately and start doing better. But for many it would take two to three months of that kind of treatment to get them truly over all their symptoms.

  “Exactly how do you intend to carry all of it?” The man asked, lifting his brow.

  “Mr. Butler and Ruth will help me load it into the cart tomorrow morning. Would you mind keeping a hold of it all until then?”

  He nodded.

  Chapter 11

  Billy

  Two saloons down, and Billy still hadn’t heard a word about a conflict or massacre that was possibly going to go on between the people of Camp Verde and the Apache tribes nearby. The morning after his last jaunt to the saloon, he sat across Josie who pushed around her eggs with a spoon but had hardly eaten a thing yet. She’d spent most of her time staring off into the distance. Finally, he asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”

  She blinked in surprise as if just noticing that Billy was there. “Oh, sorry. I don’t know what’s quite gotten into me today.”

  “Are things that hard here? I know that Archie said that the people in town were struggling because of the drought. Is it worse than we thought it was going to be?” he asked, spooning more eggs into his mouth hoping that she might mimic his action.

  Absentmindedly she did. Then, after chewing, she said. “Actually, it’s not the people in the town I’m most worried about. Cases of acute dysentery are rare, and the valley fever is already starting to settle down with the use of teas and compresses.”

  He frowned. “Then what is it?”

  “It’s the farmers surrounding the town. They are not growing enough crops to stave off scurvy. It’s something so simple to solve with just a little bit of fruits and vegetables, but none of them have the money to be able to pay off their debt to the general store, and some may die from it.” The passion in her eyes lit a fire within Billy’s own core.

  He needed to do something. “How can I help?”

  She blinked at him and flinched back in surprise. “I don’t know how you can help.”

  “What are you doing about it?” He leaned forward to show her he was listening intently.

  Josie told him about how her meeting went with Mr. Finney the day before. The defeated sound of her voice made him fully aware of just how helpless his partner felt in the battle against this disease.

  When she finished, Billy nodded and stood, taking a hold of both their plates. “I’m coming with you out to the farms today. I’ll talk to Mr. Finney about trying to get a hold of more marmalade, and maybe we can find a way to get through this together.”

  That look of helplessness that had been in Josie’s eyes a moment before softened, and a sparkle of hope entered them as she smiled. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  And Billy felt like a hero again. Even better, because he was Josie’s hero, and that’s exactly what he wanted to be. His heart felt lighter, as did his steps as he went out to clean up the breakfast dishes. It took very little time, and when finished, the two of them headed over to the hospital to allow Josie to make quick rounds before Mr. Butler was due to arrive. There were only four patients left in the hospital. On the first day, Billy had peeked in and seen every bed in the facility full. Josie was proving herself as a doctor among the people of Camp Verde, and Billy couldn’t be prouder than to tell people about his wife.

  His heart fluttered at the thought. He wanted it to be real. He wanted her to be his true wife instead of just pretending. But what he wanted and what Josie deserved conflicted with each other. He’d do the best he could to support her now and help her with this case, and then they’d go back to Denver and put an end to this fake marriage. His soaring heart came crashing down and broke deep inside him.

  But he put all these wants and selfish thoughts aside so that he could help Josie load the marmalade in the back of Mr. Butler’s cart. Then he turned to Mr. Finney. “Could you get a hold of more of these jars as soon as possible? It would be best if we can have more ready for these families the moment they run out.”

  Mr. Finney frowned and shook his head. “I’ll see what I can do, but I doubt I’m going to find anyone willing to part with more preserves or jams. The drought has made it impossible to make more, so these are part of last harvest they were able to get, and there wasn’t much then because the area already had some drought.”

  “Is it possible to get some brought in from out of the drought affected area?”

  “It’s going to be expensive to do that.” Mr. Finney frowned.

  Billy set a hand on the man’s shoulder. “If the cost doesn’t matter, can you do it?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. That’s the best I can promise.” Mr. Finney shook his head and chewed on his lip.

  Josie’s small smile and hope-filled eyes watched the conversation between them. She took hold of Billy’s arm afterward and led him back toward the cart. “Thank you so much for trying. I think Mr. Finney will put more effort in after you talked to him. You have a way with people. You make them want to help. It’s hard to say no to you.”

  He lifted a brow at her. “It sounds like you’re describing yourself.”

  She just shook her head and let him help her into the cart. They said their goodbyes to Ruth, who would be staying behind to take care of the patients still in the hospital. Then the cart started down the road, and Josie chewed on her thumbnail. Billy had already noticed the nervous habit and leaned toward her. “What are you worried about?”

  Swallowing hard, she shook her head and pulled her fingernail from her mouth. “It’s not enough. Even though this is the best we can do, it’s like spitting at a fire.”

  As a fireman, Billy understood the figure she painted very well. He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “To compensate for the loss their bodies have experienced, each person in the household needs to eat the equivalent of one of these jars per day. All we can give them is a jar per family, and it will be at least a week before anything more can come. We’re grossly under the prescribed therapy.” Her eyes grew watery, and she looked so helpless, it broke Billy’s heart.

  He wanted to do more for her and for the farming families outside of the camp. When they arrived, they distributed the jars. The gratitude on peoples faces for the one jar of marmalade was even more heart-breaking. They all had hope that this would help the situation—perhaps even cure it, but if what Josie said was true about spitting on a fire, their hopes were misplaced. Billy overhea
rd Josie trying to talk to some of the farmers about their debt, and the possibility of giving them a loan to help them pay what they owed at the general store so they could get more supplies, but no one was taking the lady up on the offer.

  At the next house, three of the farming families were together, visiting with one another. Billy found the heads of the households, the men, working outside on butchering a cow that the three families were going to share. He came over and decided to try to see if he could succeed where Josie could not.

  “How are you all doing?” Billy opened with. He kept his distance, so they didn’t feel crowded, but offered a hand toward the man who seemed to be in charge of the house where they were. “I’m Billy Hogge. My wife is the doctor.”

  All three men smiled at his introduction and shook his hand gratefully. The charge of the household introduced himself. “I’m Steven Adams, this is Gordon Heights and Wayne Right. We’re really thankful that your wife is taking the time to make her rounds out this way and hopeful that the marmalade will help stave off the scurvy.”

  Billy nodded. “This is a bad year for crops, then?”

  Gordon wiped the sweat from his balding head and grimaced, shading his eyes from the sun. “We haven’t seen more than a drizzle of rain in over a year. The ground’s drier than a bone, and the cattle, like this one, are half-starved for lack of grass. It’s hard enough to keep the animals fed, so they can feed us. We’re sparse on meat and dairy, barely enough flour for bread. Crops? They’re producing nary a thing at all.”

  Steven nodded, pulling the gloves from his hands. “Rain would do us a lot of good. The riverbanks are drying up, and the well is too. I’m not sure we’re going to be able to stick around much longer if this keeps up. We keep praying but not a lot’s happening yet. Hopefully, the Lord will end this test soon.”

  Wayne huffed. “I’m telling you, we don’t need to leave our land. We need to stop the savages from doing what they’re doing.”

  Gordon hissed at him and shook his head slightly.

  But Billy’s heart leapt into his throat. This was the first he’d heard negative about the nearby tribes. Maybe this was the clue he’d been looking for. “What do you mean? What are they doing?”

  The three men had a moment’s silent conversation all by staring into each other’s eyes. Finally, Steven said, “There’s people who have been upriver that say that the tribes that way are diverting a good bit of the water for their own crops. They are not struggling to grow off the land like we are and not having the same problems. Some folks are talking about putting a stop to that. We need the water just as much as they do, and maybe we can glean some of their crops, too.”

  Billy did his best to keep his face passive. If he’d ever needed a good poker face it was now. “Are they talking about when this is going to happen?”

  Gordon shrugged. “It’s just talk. No plans right now, but if things don’t change...”

  “We need to do something,” Wayne said. “Those savages are killing us. It’s as if half this drought is their fault. Maybe all of it. It might be punishment for their godless ways—this whole drought in the first place.”

  A frown tugged at Billy’s lip, but he fought to keep a straight face and nodded. “I can see what you’re saying. Have you thought about getting the soldiers involved?”

  Gordon shook his head. “They’d never help.”

  “Right. Their lieutenant loves trading with those savages too much,” Wayne added. “He’d never compromise his comfortable position by helping out the farmers around here. It would be nice if someone would give us a hand. You’re a big guy. If we decide to make a stand, would you be willing to help us out?”

  After letting out a slow breath, Billy nodded. “I am here with my wife, because we care about the farmers. But before you do anything too rash, have you considered talking to the Apache?”

  Wayne’s face reddened. “Of course we have! They deny everything. They act as if they don’t know what we’re talking about. Things almost came to a shootout right then as everyone pulled out their rifles. Don’t think that we’re not trying. We are. We don’t want conflict any more than anyone else, but we need what’s ours, and that river surely doesn’t belong to them.”

  Billy held up his hands in a bit of surrender, hoping to calm things down. “Okay. What we need the most is rain, and we’ll all keep praying for that. But, as a doctor, my wife is doing all she can to save everyone’s lives. We’re both doing all we can. Give the treatment time to work and let’s try not to do anything rash.”

  Gordon frowned, but nodded. “We just don’t want to see our wives and children suffering.” He lifted his lip with a thumb and showed Billy a bloody red hole where his tooth had been. When he closed his mouth, he spit on the ground. Blood intermingled in the spittle. “I don’t want to see them losing their teeth like this or getting any sicker. And we all feel weak. We can’t wait much longer, but I can see waiting a few days while we see if this marmalade is really going to turn things around for us.”

  Billy nodded. “That’s all that I ask.”

  They nodded and went back to butchering the steer. Billy said his goodbyes and then went toward his wife. The rumors were true after all. He’d been looking in the wrong place. These people weren’t spending time in the saloons at night. They were at home, taking care of their families—and struggling to do so. The pain in Billy’s chest intensified as his stomach knotted. He’d finally found out who was behind the uprising. But how would he find a way to put a stop to it?

  Chapter 12

  Josie

  Billy had seemed pensive as they went to the rest of the farms and then started on the way home. He’d been cheerful and seemed to be trying hard to keep Josie’s spirits up during the first half of the rounds, but by the second half, he’d become withdrawn. She wondered if he was as disheartened about the condition of the farmers as she was.

  As they started on their way back, a rattlesnake pulled out of the brush to the side of the road and spooked the horse. It jumped to the side and twisted the cart. Josie nearly fell from the seat into the back of the cart, but Billy’s hands gripped her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest, as he held her close to him. The faintest bit of woodsmoke and bacon reached her nose—Billy’s scent. She molded into him and felt warm and protected in a way she’d never felt before. When she realized her hands gripped his shirt, she released him, and he released her at the same time.

  The horse had settled, and Mr. Butler regained control of the cart. “Sorry for that bit of excitement. Bessie doesn’t like snakes much. But I’m definitely awake now!” He called out and slapped the reins against the horse’s flank. The old gray mare picked up a trot in response.

  Even though they’d released each other, Josie found herself leaning against Billy and him leaning against her protectively. She still felt safe. No matter what happened to them on this journey, she believed Billy would be there to protect her and that made her feel bold. Her heart fluttered in her chest as his scent washed toward her. She was beginning to like the way he smelled, too.

  As they got closer to town, they watched a man who stumbled along the roadway with a jug in his hand. He was singing at the top of his lungs. His clothes were crumpled and covered in dust. Mr. Butler pulled up just as the man was going to stagger in front of the mare. “Whoa, there. Is that you, Linus?”

  The older man turned around and squinted up at the driver. “Butler? What are you doing out this way on a Friday? I thought you’d be in town right now, maybe even coming out to the saloon by the time I got there.”

  Mr. Butler looked sheepishly at Billy and Josie, rubbing the back of his neck and huffing a laugh. Then he turned back toward his friend. “Hop on into the back of the cart. We’ll save your legs and give you a ride the rest of the way to town.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” the man said and swung around to the back.

  Once the cart got moving, the man started singing again. He was off-key and howling each word, b
ut Josie could do little more than meet eyes with Billy and laugh. Soon the man wasn’t just sitting on the back of the cart, but he lay flat out in the bed, occasionally taking a sip of the brown jug he carried with him.

  When they arrived in front of the hospital, Billy dismounted the carriage and then reached up to help Josie down. The feeling of his warm hand was reassuring, and it seemed that everything the man did caused her heart rate to speed up. Once down from the cart, Billy looked back up at Mr. Butler. “Thank you so much for taking care of us today and helping us make the rounds.”

  Mr. Butler tipped his hat. “Not a problem. The farmers and their families can’t make it out here to see the doctor, so it’s a mercy that the one in town is willing to make rounds to see them. And two days in a row? That’s a blessing even more so for them. I appreciate that Dr. Hogge is willing to do so much for them. Not all doctors would be willing.”

  Josie frowned but nodded. “I hope that we’ll have more for them by next week. But if I find something sooner, will you be willing to drive us about the farms again.”

  “Absolutely,” he said with a wide smile. “It’s my duty as a soldier. The lieutenant gave me the command that my first job is to do whatever the doctor asks of me, and so far, she’s not asked a whole lot.”

  A small gasp escaped Josie’s lips. “I didn’t realize you were a soldier.”

  He smiled wide and tipped his hat up. “I’ve been in the Calvary for almost twenty-two years. I don’t outrank the lieutenant, but most of the soldiers will listen to me better. So, he lets me do pretty much what I want, and what I want is to wear civilian clothes. I don’t think he likes it by the looks he gives me on occasion, but he hasn’t said a word about it yet in the past two years.”

  Billy laughed, and the sound of it warmed Josie’s core. “Well, let me know if I can do something for you, too,” Billy offered.