Here Comes McBride (Journey's End Book 1)

by Victoria Phelps

  Lars tore his boots from his feet and dragged his shirt over his head. He dove into the avalanche of water and let it sweep him swiftly down, down and away. I’m coming, Ellie, I’m coming. He churned the waves with frantic arms. Could she swim? He didn’t know. He did know she wore heavy boots, a dress and those too large pants. Those clothes soaked with water could drown the strongest swimmer. He redoubled the strokes of his arms, trying to keep his head up and waiting for Ellie to surface.

  A flash of red caught his eye. He shifted his stroke in an attempt to cross the turbulent mass. For every stroke across he was borne further forward. He saw her flailing, going under, resurfacing to choke and cough. He caught hold of the back of her skirt and held tight. Working his way up the fabric, he managed to get an arm around her waist. He turned to his back and held her tight to his chest keeping her head above water as much as he could. Cold and exhaustion turned his limbs to heavy weights.

  He spotted a low branch hanging over the rushing river of water. Getting his arm wrapped around her chest, he grasped for the branch with his other as they swept past. He looped his arm around the wood; the pressure of the pushing water at his back pulled his arm against the socket. He howled as ligaments screamed.

  Lars got his hands under Ellie’s buttocks and pushed her up and over the branch. She hung lifeless as a sawdust doll. He pushed her body a few inches toward shore and crept along behind holding tight to the branch. Freezing water buffeted his every move, but he gained ground inch by inch.

  Ellie coughed, sputtered, and choked, but finally lifted her head. Lars pointed at the bank, and she gave a nod. With her help, they moved up the branch more quickly until Lars waded to shore dragging Ellie behind him. They lay on the bank gasping, spent beyond their strength.

  The rain was steady, but no longer a pounding, pouring punishment. Lars helped Ellie to her feet, and they stumbled toward the mineshaft. He tucked Ellie more firmly under his arm, and she gripped the back of his pants. Together they put one foot in front of the other.

  “There it is,” Lars pointed at the mineshaft and heaved a sigh fit to break a heart.

  Missy and Tiny turned long faces to the entrance and whickered a soft welcome as they stumbled into the tunnel.

  “Hello, Missy. Hello, Tiny,” Ellie gasped. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  Lars fumbled with the buttons at the front of Ellie’s dress. “You have to get out of these wet clothes. Can you do that while I start a fire?”

  Constructing a pyramid from the wood Ellie had gathered, he struck a match and blew on the fledging flame until it kindled into a heat-giving flame.

  Ellie removed the dress, but she stood with arms crossed over her breasts and the too large pants dragging at her waist.

  “I told you to get those clothes off,” Lars scolded.

  “I know, but I can’t untie the rope,” she whined.

  “Let me help.” Lars knelt before her and worked on the knot. “The water made the knot harder to untie, but I’ve got it.” He skimmed the jeans down her hips. “Step out.”

  He stared at her feminine thatch. Cold as he was his blood ran hot, and he longed to explore that wilderness, but her skin was an unhealthy blue, and he could hear her teeth clanking.

  Pulling a blanket from the saddlebag, he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it tight. “Get by the fire, Ellie girl.” He waited while she shuffled to their source of heat before removing his pants. Picking their discarded clothes up from the dirt floor, he laid them out to dry as best he could before spreading another blanket on the dirt and laying down.

  “Come here,” he called. “We’ve got to keep each other warm.” He patted the blanket in front of him.

  For the briefest of moments, he thought she might disobey. She’d been mighty particular about sleeping in a shirt, but they were in desperate need of warmth. Her skin was still mottled shades of blue, and her teeth continued to tap out an unnatural rhythm.

  Ellie nodded and plodded to where he lay. Taking her hand, he tugged her down until she lay between him and the fire. He covered them with her blanket before nestling her into the heat of his body. He winced. She was cold—so very cold.

  Lars rubbed her arms and legs desperate to restore heat to her limbs. She was such a little thing and had been bounced about in the rushing water like a kite caught in an updraft. His inspection didn’t reveal any broken bones, and he closed his eyes tight. Relief swept him with the force of marauding water.

  “Sleep,” he soothed. When her breathing became slow and smooth, Lars allowed himself to sink with her.

  The sun was peeking into their hideaway when Lars opened his eyes. His arm was numb from pillowing her head all night, and he gently pulled it free. He ran his hand down the curve of her waist and continued down her leg.

  It was hot in the mineshaft. He threw off his blanket but was greeted by a rush of cold air. No, it wasn’t hot in their hideaway. Ellie was hot. Hot like a blazing stove. Hot like a Texas sun at high noon. Hot like the fires of Hell. Propping himself on an elbow he peered at her still slumbering face. No longer blue, but it hadn’t returned to the healthy pinkish-brown he loved. Her face was a sickly white oval. Dark circles surrounded her eyes like purple bruises.

  Rising to his knees, he laid his hand on her forehead. Damn. Damn. Damn. Ellie was sick. His own stomach rebelled at the certainty of her condition, and he swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.

  They couldn’t return to Angel’s Camp. Someone might recognize her from the poster. Anyway, moving her would be a mistake. He doubted she was strong enough to make such a journey. She needed rest. Yes, rest, nourishing food, water, and for that fever to go down.

  “Ellie?” Her glazed eyes focused on his face for a brief instant before the lids drifted shut once more. “Ellie,” he repeated, “I’m going out for a bit. We need water, and I’m going to set a snare for a rabbit.” He hoped for a response, but all he got was a grimace and a slight movement of one hand. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

  “Come on, Tiny and Missy.” He gave each horse a gentle swat and they followed him into the daylight. “You’ll be happier out here where there’s grass and water.”

  He hurried toward the stream that gushed past in the once empty riverbed. He set his snare under a tree before filling both canteens with water.

  Before rekindling the fire, he pulled Ellie away. Hot as she was he didn’t figure she needed more heat. Once she seemed comfortable, he checked his clothes. Well, they were damp, but they’d have to do. He considered Ellie’s clothes through squinted eyes before deciding she was better off naked.

  Lars fetched a rag from his saddlebag and wet it with icy river water from a canteen. He bathed Ellie’s face, her arms, her neck. He lifted the blanket and applied the cold cloth to her stomach and legs. The fever was a wild beast gnawing away at Ellie’s strength, sucking her away, away from him. He couldn’t allow it. He needed his Ellie girl as surely as he needed oxygen to breathe.

  Fluids. Ma always said a sick person needed fluids. He poured water into a cup. Placing an arm behind her shoulders, he lifted her into a half-sit. Lars held the cup to her lips. “Drink, darlin’,” he whispered. He tipped the cup until a little liquid entered her mouth. She swallowed a bit and the rest dribbled down her chin. After wiping the moisture away with the sleeve of his shirt, he returned the cup to her lips. He stopped after a dozen attempts, hoping some of the liquid had made it down her throat. Lars laid her down and covered her loosely with the blanket.

  “I’ll be right back, Ellie.” He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he’d keep talking to her. He needed to check his snare and was relieved to see a rabbit was caught. Lars skinned the little critter and cut it into pieces. He’d boil it over the fire and make broth.

  Ellie thrashed through the night as Lars sat cross-legged and kept watch. He bathed her face and body over and over in the cold water and prayed for the fever to drop. A bit of broth and water made its way to her st
omach, but Lars thought she looked shrunken. Damn. Being so small she didn’t have much to lose before her eyes sunk and her collarbones jutted through her skin. When she got better, he was going to see that she put on some weight. He’d be no kind of man if he let his woman be so skinny. Yes, sir, he’d see to it.

  Ellie mumbled through her fever. She’d say ‘Mitch’ and then ‘Mama’ and back to ‘Mitch’. But every now and again he heard ‘Lars’ clear as day. He held her hand cradled between his own. She wanted her brother, her mother and him. His heart grew big.

  Toward morning exhaustion claimed him, and he lay down beside her and slept. The sun was halfway up the sky when he woke. He jerked awake and reached for Ellie. She still burned like some hellish private furnace. Lars opened his canteen, wet the cloth and bathed her once more in cool water before encouraging her to drink.

  When stars popped out one by one in the black velvet sky, Ellie’s condition remained unchanged. He had to do something. If he didn’t, he would lose her, and he couldn’t bear it.

  She was too hot. He needed to bring her temperature down. Those were the facts.

  He stripped out of his clothes and lifted her into his arms. She was so light, he thought she might float away. He intensified his grip.

  “Ellie, I don’t know what else to do. You’re so hot. We’re going to take a dip in that river yonder. I’m pretty sure you won’t like it, and I’m sorry. But I think it’s worth a try.” He’d reached the edge of the water, and he waded in until the water was at his waist. Then he sank into the icy depths, Ellie’s bottom resting on his knees, and her head lying on his shoulder. He rocked back and forth, soothing, talking, rubbing her back. How long was long enough was a mystery. He’d trust his gut.

  More stars popped out and a sliver of moon had made an appearance when Lars decided if they stayed longer she’d go from chilled to frozen. He stood with her slight weight in his arms and headed for their camp. The horses whickered as he passed, and he soothed them with a word.

  He returned her to the blanket, fed the fire, and laid down pulling her close to his body. Her skin was cooler than before the river bath, but he didn’t know if the fever would rage back or not. He whispered a prayer that it would not, locked her to him with one strong arm and drifted to sleep.

  “Lars.” A creaky voice brought him careening from slumber. “Lars, I’m so thirsty.”

  He shot upright and placed his hand on her forehead. It was damp and maybe a touch too warm, but her skin did not scald, did not burn him with fear.

  “Ellie,” he whispered. “Oh Ellie, you’ve been so sick. You liked to scare me to death.”

  “How long have I been sick?”

  “Three nights. Do you remember being swept away by the river?” he asked.

  “I do. You saved me Lars. You came after me and saved me.” Ellie blinked back tears.

  “I’ll always come after you, darlin’. Always.” He lifted her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms. “I don’t believe you’re all better yet. We’ll stay here until you’re strong again. Right now you’d lose a fight with a kitten.”

  Lars handed her a canteen. “Here.”

  He’d never seen anything as beautiful as her throat working to swallow that river water.

  He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “I’ve been feeding you a bit of broth, and you can have some more. I’d be happier if you ate solid food. We have cooked rabbit, and I’ve saved some bread that I bought in Angel’s Camp. And,” he paused and made a fanfare with his hands, “I have jam.”

  “Oh, Lars, you have jam?” She angled her head to get a better look at him.

  Her emerald green eyes sparkled. Her lips that had been bloodless white already curved into a pink smile.

  Lars set her back on the blanket. He’d stacked their supplies on the other side of the fire. When he returned from their pile of treasure, he carried a piece of bread slathered with a generous scoop of jam. He set it in her hand and waited for the pleasure of watching her eat.

  She took a bite, swallowed, took another. “You finish it, Lars,” Ellie said, slumping back onto the blanket.

  “Can you eat a little rabbit?” Lars coaxed. Disappointment settled like a sinking stone in his stomach when she shook her head, but she was awake. She was talking. He’d settle for that for now.

  “I need to go outside, and I need a shirt.” A blush burned her cheeks as she realized her nakedness.

  Lars dropped a dry shirt over her head and guided her arms into the sleeves. “I don’t think you’re strong enough to stand on your own,” he declared.

  “Let me try,” Ellie said, lifting her arms for help. Once on her feet, Lars removed his hands. She wavered and swayed like wheat at harvest.

  “I’ll carry you.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her into a day of bright sunshine and promise. “Now don’t make a fuss. I’m going to lift the shirt and hold you over the ground. You do your business. You’re too weak for anything else.”

  “All right. Thank you,” she replied.

  Well, Lord have mercy, she took his suggestion meek as a child. He’d expected, even hoped for, a little fight, some indignation. Her acquiescence to his plan revealed how tired and worn out she truly was.

  Lars returned her to their camping bed, and Ellie slept on and off for two days while Lars dripped water and broth past her chapped lips. When she awoke, he fed her rabbit and fish. He made some Johnny cake with the corn meal and spread the last of their jam on her piece. When she ate the whole thing, Lars sucked oxygen into his lungs. He hadn’t had a free breath since the day of the flash flood, and he’d watched her be swept away in the roiling water.

  On the third day, she refused his help to go outside. Lars waited with his back turned and a grin the size of Texas on his face. They’d camped in the mineshaft for a week, and they were low on supplies. He could always snare a rabbit or catch a fish, but that got boring mighty quick.

  He and Ellie rambled in the foothills of the Sierra for two more days. Laughed as they played in the river. Held hands while they collected firewood. Shared goodnight kisses each more passionate than the last. Lars held onto his control by the finest of threads, but he held firm. They couldn’t risk pregnancy.

  “We need to have a little talk, Ellie girl,” Lars stated. “Come sit with me.” He pulled her down to the hollow in his legs as he sat cross-legged on the ground. “I think we better move on.”

  “Oh, Lars, do we have to? I love it here,” Ellie’s voice a near whine.

  “When you’re on the run, you run,” he scoffed.

  “I suppose you’re right. Where should we go?”

  “We need money. The coins Sven gave me washed away in the river. We don’t need much. I can always hunt and fish, but flour and other supplies cost ready cash.” He held her close to his chest and talked over her flaming hair. “There was a mine further up in the mountains. I saw it on Sven’s map, the Kennett mine. The gold laying in the rivers is gone, but folks are still bringing gold out of the mountains.”

  “You’d go into a mine shaft? A deep one?” Ellie gasped. “That sounds dangerous.”

  “I reckon it is, but it’s either that or logging. They’re both dangerous. I won’t do it for long. Just long enough to get money in my pocket, and then we’ll be off and running.”

  “Running. How long do we have to run?” Her voice was choked with the dust of distress.

  “Don’t know. Until Simon stops hunting you, I reckon.” He paused and sucked in a deep breath.

  “There’s one more thing to take care of before we leave in the morning. Let’s get your spanking out of the way.”

  Ellie was out of his lap and standing with arms akimbo in a flash. Lars was so surprised he laughed. He’d never seen a woman so quick. She had a temper to match her hair, and he loved it.

  “Spanking?” she shouted.

  “Yup.” He pitched his voice low and calm and rose to his full height. “Spanking.”<
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  Chapter 8

  “Spanking? No, Lars, I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t spank me,” she sputtered.

  “I can, and I will,” he stated. “I don’t like your attitude one little bit either. I suggest you change it.”

  Ellie lowered her voice and dropped her arms. “All right. But why would you spank me? I didn’t mean to be sick.”

  “Ellie girl, what do you take me for?” Hurt flashed across his face. “I wouldn’t spank you for being sick. I won’t spank you when you are sick. That’s why I’ve waited, but you aren’t sick anymore. We best take care of the business of your disobedience before any more time passes. I’d rather punish you immediately when you deserve it, but you were ill.”

  Ellie scrunched her face into a knot. “Disobedience?” she queried. “I’ve been good as gold.”

  “When we found this mine shaft and decided to stay, what did I tell you to do?” he asked.

  She knew the answer to this question and answered with satisfying confidence. “You said to collect wood.”

  “You’re right in so far as it goes. What else did I tell you?” He waited.

  Ellie glanced right and gazed left. She let her eyes drift over his shoulders and down to his feet. He was immovable, a rock, a boulder, while he waited. Her mind raced and wandered back to that terrible day. It struck her like the proverbial bolt out of the blue. Her eyes flew to his face, and she knew he’d recognized the moment of her memory.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “You said not to go into the riverbed,” she conceded. “But, Lars, we needed wood fast, and the riverbed was close, and there was so much. I didn’t see the harm.”

  “You didn’t see the harm. When I tell you to do something, I don’t always have the time to explain why. I expect you to trust me and figure I have my reasons. Now that we have the time, I’ll explain. Once a river chooses its path and carves it out, it will return to it when the need arises. It was dry because there hadn’t been enough rain. When the rain came, the river rushed to return. It’s called a flash flood.” He threw his hands in the air.