by Jodi Thomas
Clint cinched his saddle and turned to face her. “Please call me Clint, and I’ll be careful. Do you know how to use a pistol?”
“My father taught me to shoot a long time ago, but I don’t have a gun.”
Clint pulled an extra gun from his saddlebag and checked to make certain it was loaded. He held it out to her, and was somewhat surprised that she wasn’t fainthearted about handling the firearm. He liked that about her. It told him that she had the courage to protect the girls as well as herself if necessary. “If you have to use it, don’t hesitate. Aim at a button and pull the trigger.”
Amelia nodded her understanding before she tucked the pistol into her pocket.
Clint jumped in the saddle. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
* * *
Anxiously awaiting Clint’s return, Amelia wouldn’t allow the girls out of her sight. Along with Mrs. Nelson, they joined the children at the creek to pan for gold. The children were not aware of the three men who’d rode into their camp the previous night. The women didn’t want to frighten them, but they stressed the importance of staying together.
On Clint’s return to camp later that day, Amelia thought the men were as relieved as she was to have him back. She didn’t want to think about him leaving for La Grange, but she understood he had to go. For the remainder of the day, Clint panned for gold, keeping Amelia and all the children within his sight at all times. He panned in the same location where he’d had some luck the prior day. Within a few hours, he’d found several small nuggets.
After they took a break to have something to eat, the children rested along the bank under the warmth of the afternoon sun. Clint watched Amelia pan at the bank for a while, but the next time he glanced her way she was lying in the grass with a blanket covering her. The three strangers had unnerved her last night, and Clint knew she hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t until Mrs. Nelson brought him some coffee at the lake that he learned the real reason Amelia was resting.
“Amelia’s not feeling well. I told her to go to our wagon to rest, but she wants to stay near the girls. I’ve worried about someone getting sick ever since Ben Wilburn came to our camp and told us his boy was sick. Ben said the boy had influenza, but the symptoms are the same as yellow fever. And Amelia told me one of those strangers last night looked sickly.”
“Ben said his son has improved when I saw him earlier today,” Clint replied.
“Maybe we’re all on edge because of the fever. We don’t want anyone bringing it to our camp.”
* * *
Later that evening, Mrs. Nelson insisted Amelia go to the wagon to rest.
“I’ll be fine right here by the fire,” Amelia replied.
“You’re as pale as an apparition. Now go on to the wagon so you can get some sleep. We’ll look after the girls.”
Clint agreed with Mrs. Nelson, Amelia was very pale, and that worried him.
“Ma, Annie and I will help Mrs. Nelson,” Katie offered.
“Thank you, girls. I think I will lie down for a few minutes.” Amelia stood, took one step toward the wagon and slumped to the ground.
Clint tossed his cup of coffee aside and ran to her. Turning her over on her back, Clint gently shook her. “Amelia!” When she didn’t respond, he propped her upper body against his thigh and shook her again. “Amelia!” By this time, everyone had gathered around him, and Clint heard the girls crying behind him.
Slowly, Amelia’s eyes opened, and she was surprised to see Clint was holding her in his arms. “What happened?”
Mrs. Nelson leaned over and felt her forehead. “Honey, you fainted. You’ve worn yourself out from worry and taking care of everyone else. You’re burning up.” Mrs. Nelson turned toward the wagon. “Mr. Mitchum, give me a few minutes to get some things from the wagon, then take her inside. The girls and I will sleep out by the fire tonight.”
“I’m fine, girls,” Amelia assured Katie and Annie when she saw their tears.
Clint saw Mrs. Nelson whisper something in her husband’s ear. Mr. Nelson nodded and followed his wife to the wagon. Once they removed some belongings from the wagon, Mrs. Nelson motioned for Clint to carry Amelia inside.
Despite Amelia’s protest, Clint carried her to the wagon and gently laid her on a stack of blankets Mrs. Nelson had arranged for her.
“I’m fine now, Mr. Mitchum. I just remember getting a little dizzy.”
“Would you like some coffee or water?” Clint asked.
“No, thank you. I think all I need is some rest. Please tell Mrs. Nelson to keep the girls with her.”
As soon as Clint jumped from the wagon, Katie, Annie, and Mrs. Nelson were waiting for him.
“Is Ma going to be okay?” Katie asked.
“You’re ma just needs some rest. She wants you to stay with Mrs. Nelson.”
“Does she have the fever? We don’t want to lose another ma,” Annie cried.
“Your ma will be fine. Now go help Hannah and Bonnie clean up. Don’t you worry, your ma will be as fit as a fiddle by morning,” Mrs. Nelson assured them.
The girls walked away, and Clint looked at Mrs. Nelson. “What did they mean that they didn’t want to lose another ma?”
Mrs. Nelson took Clint by the arm and pulled him away from the wagon. “Amelia’s sister was their mother. You see, Amelia’s sister was married to Mr. Wakeland, and when he was away during the war, she died not long after Annie was born.”
Clint listened intently as Mrs. Nelson explained further. “I’m afraid Mr. Wakeland wasn’t well when he came home from the war. He asked Amelia to marry him so the girls would have a mother. You might say Amelia’s marriage to Mr. Wakeland was one of convenience, for the sake of the girls. Mr. Wakeland was much older than Amelia.”
Clint was quiet, absorbing what Mrs. Nelson was saying. She interpreted his silence for disapproval. “Please don’t think harshly of Amelia for her choices. She loves those girls as though they are her own. She thought it was the best decision for everyone, and she didn’t want any of Mr. Wakeland’s relatives laying claim to the girls. Not only that, but even before the war, there weren’t many matrimonial prospects for young women in La Grange.”
Clint appreciated Mrs. Nelson’s plain speaking manner. “I’m not passing judgment on anyone. I think she’s a fine woman, and knowing the responsibilities she’s taken on, I admire her all the more.”
“Mr. Mitchum, Amelia’s marriage wasn’t one of . . . well, it wasn’t a typical marriage. Mr. Wakeland was very ill when he returned from the war, and he never left his bed. He died just days after they were wed. Then, this last year, she had to nurse her parents during the fever only to lose them. That girl has sacrificed so much, and she deserves some happiness in her life.”
Clint stared at her, trying to read between the lines for what she wasn’t saying.
Mrs. Nelson put her hands on her hips and looked expectantly at him. “I’ve seen how you look at her. Are you interested in that gal, or do you think she is just another pretty face?”
Clint glanced away. He wasn’t sure he was in any position to say what he wanted. Amelia was a beautiful woman, no doubt, but she was much more than that. What do I want? He’d found himself daydreaming about having a wife and children over the last couple of days. Who am I kidding? I haven’t been thinking about just any woman; it’s Amelia’s face I see, and those precious girls. “I don’t have much to offer any woman.”
Mrs. Nelson gave a loud harrumph. “If all men waited to have something to offer a woman in these hard times, there wouldn’t be any marriages at all.” Mrs. Nelson turned to walk away after one parting comment. “Don’t turn her head if you’re not interested in something permanent. She has too much to lose to give her heart to the wrong man. Besides, Casey is waiting on her to come home. He wants to marry her.”
* * *
Clint waded into the water to do some panning before darkness descended, hoping to find some privacy to think. He leaned against a large boulder while he unconsciously worked hi
s pan and thought about what Mrs. Nelson had told him. He knew in these hard times many people married out of necessity instead of love. Unless he was mistaken, Mrs. Nelson had hinted that Amelia’s marriage was not an intimate one. It was obvious that Amelia loved the girls dearly, so he could understand if she married for their benefit. Could he marry a woman because she needed him for the sake of children? Amelia’s face flashed before his eyes. He smiled, thinking it would be no hardship to see her every morning and night. Not only that, but any man would be proud to be Katie and Annie’s father. There was no question in his mind that he would marry her to help secure a more prosperous future for the girls. It was heartbreaking that the girls had lost both parents. Now he understood why they wanted to buy Amelia a husband—they wanted a secure family. But he wanted love in his marriage—not simply a marriage of convenience. Could Amelia come to love me? Or is she in love with this Casey character?
* * *
Though light was fading, Clint was still in knee-high water swirling his pan when he saw what he thought was a stone at the bottom. He plucked it out, and just as he was about to toss it back in the water, he looked at it more closely. Gold! It was much larger than the nuggets he’d found earlier in the day. He knew what he was holding in his hand was of such value that it could change everything. His excitement at finding the large nugget was tempered by the uncertainty of what he would find once he returned to the ranch. Nothing could really make him happy until he knew his mother was alive. He rolled the nugget around in his hand. That one nugget meant he could help Amelia and the girls, as well as Whitt and the boys. If they didn’t want to return to La Grange, he could help them get settled somewhere else. Tucking the gold in his pocket, Clint continued to search the bottom of his pan. He couldn’t believe it when he saw several smaller nuggets, along with gold flakes covering the bottom of the pan. Before he left the creek, he decided to try his luck one last time and dipped his pan into the water. This time, he found ten small nuggets.
After he made his way back to the bank, he pulled out his bandanna and gently placed all the nuggets and flakes inside. Once he folded the cloth tightly, he stuck the bandanna in his back pocket and walked back to the camp.
* * *
Mrs. Nelson approached Clint around midnight, while he was still awake, drinking coffee and thinking about his mother. Leaning over to his ear, Mrs. Nelson whispered, “I need to speak to you.”
Glancing around at the sleeping children, Clint stood and quietly followed Mrs. Nelson away from the fire. They were just a few feet from the wagon when she turned to face him.
“Mr. Mitchum, I’m afraid Amelia is very ill.” She motioned for him to come closer to the wagon. “She asked that you stay out here while I go inside, and you can listen to our conversation.”
Clint frowned. “Why can’t I go inside and talk to her?”
Mrs. Wilson looked around, as if she was afraid someone would overhear them. “We’re afraid she may have yellow fever. She has a very high fever, has been vomiting and has a terrible headache—all symptoms of yellow fever.”
Clint pulled the lantern from the hook, pushed the flap aside and climbed inside the wagon.
Hearing the commotion, Amelia’s eyes snapped open. “Mr. Mitchum, you shouldn’t be in here! Didn’t Mrs. Nelson tell you that I may have yellow fever?”
Clint leaned over, holding the light so he could see her face. He was shocked how her appearance had deteriorated in a few short hours. She was also shivering, even though she had beads of perspiration on her face. Clint placed his palm on her forehead. Feeling how warm she was, he tried to keep his expression neutral so she couldn’t see his concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
The flap opened and Mrs. Nelson peeked inside. Clint held out his hand to assist her inside the wagon. Mrs. Nelson added another blanket to the stack already covering Amelia. “I fear her fever is getting worse.”
“Mr. Mitchum, I have all the symptoms. I need to get away from everyone before it gets worse. I don’t want to endanger everyone,” Amelia explained softly.
Mrs. Nelson touched Clint’s arm. “We have a plan. I’m going to speak to Tom about taking the wagon away from here, and I will care for Amelia until she’s well.”
“No, that’s not what we discussed,” Amelia responded. “I want you to return to camp with Tom. You must take care of the children in case . . .”
Clint’s gaze slid from Mrs. Nelson to Amelia. He knew what she was thinking even though she didn’t voice her worst fear.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Mrs. Nelson stated.
Amelia smiled up at Mrs. Nelson. “You must, for the sake of the children. And we must act quickly, before others nearby find out I’m ill. They will want all of us to leave.”
Mrs. Nelson sat down beside Amelia. “You can’t care for yourself if you get worse. You, of all people, know what will happen if this takes a turn for the worse.”
Amelia was quiet for several minutes. She looked at Mrs. Nelson, her eyes pleading. “Please, I can’t infect the children. And . . . they couldn’t bear to see me succumb. . . .”
They knew what she was thinking. Clint admired what Mrs. Nelson was willing to do for Amelia, but the children also needed her. Amelia was right about that. He quickly formulated a different plan. “Tell me how this disease progresses.”
Mrs. Nelson explained her experience with yellow fever. “If the symptoms haven’t improved in a few days, and if the fever and vomiting persists, that’s when many do not . . .”
“Survive,” Amelia finished Mrs. Nelson’s sentence.
“You told me that the symptoms are similar to influenza. Could this be influenza?” Clint asked.
Mrs. Nelson thought about Clint’s question. “I guess it could be influenza, but if the other families hear she is sick, they will assume the worst, just like with Ben Wilburn’s boy.”
Glancing at Amelia, Clint asked, “Amelia, do you think you could travel?”
Mrs. Nelson’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t think she should go off alone, do you?”
“No.” Clint’s eyes shifted from Amelia to Mrs. Nelson. “I think she should go with me back to La Grange. You can tell me how to care for her. If the doc is still alive, he will know what to do once we arrive in LaGrange.”
Mrs. Nelson frowned at him. “Mr. Mitchum, I know you have nothing but the most honorable intentions, but she will not even be able to change her clothing by herself.”
Clint arched his brow at her. “I assure you, I’ve seen a woman’s body before, Mrs. Nelson. I have no intention of taking advantage of Amelia.”
Flustered by his comment, Mrs. Nelson’s face turned a rosy pink. “I’m not suggesting . . .”
Clint’s expression and his voice softened when he looked at Amelia. “You know this is the only thing that makes sense. You can trust me.”
Amelia’s gaze met his. “I trust you, but I can’t let you do this. I don’t want you to get sick because of me.”
“I’m not going to get sick. And you don’t actually think I would let you go off by yourself, do you? Even if Mrs. Nelson convinced you to allow her to go with you, I couldn’t let that happen.” Clint quickly decided he would not listen to more objections. “Mrs. Nelson, please be kind enough to get together what I’ll need for her and we’ll leave at dawn.” His tone let them know that the decision was made. He knew traveling with Amelia was going to slow him down, but that didn’t sway his decision. He couldn’t leave her behind, not knowing what was going to happen to her. He didn’t wait for her to respond; he walked to the back of the wagon.
Tears filled Amelia’s eyes. “Please don’t do this. I would rather stay alone than risk you becoming ill.”
Clint turned and walked back to her, leaned over and cupped her cheek. He spoke softly to her. “Stop worrying about me. I told you, I will be fine. I’m too darn mean to catch anything. I want you to rest now. We’ll leave at dawn.”
A tear slid from the side of Amelia�
�s eye. “Say goodbye to the girls for me. Don’t let them come in here. Make sure they understand I don’t want to leave, but I must.”
Clint reached down, picked up her hand and held it in his. It felt so small and delicate in his grasp. He hoped her will to survive was stronger than she looked or felt. He’d learned in the war that a man’s will to make it home to his loving family increased his chance of survival when faced with a life-threatening illness or injury. Those men had a reason, a purpose to make it through any hardship. “I promise I will explain the situation to them. Now you must promise me you will get well.”
When she didn’t respond, Clint gently squeezed her hand. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispered as she looked into his eyes.
* * *
Before dawn, Tom Nelson helped Clint carry some supplies to the wagon. “Clint, this is good of you to take Amelia to La Grange, but do you know what you’re in for?”
“I can’t say I’ve seen yellow fever, but I saw just about everything else in the war.” Clint had been exposed to more diseases and injuries in the war than he cared to recall. He felt he could handle yellow fever. Only problem was, he’d never cared for a woman. There might be situations where he would shock Amelia’s delicate sensibilities if she was coherent. But it couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t stay in camp and endanger the others, and in Clint’s estimation, there was no one equal to the task of caring for her, or protecting her in case there was trouble—like dealing with two-legged varmints.
Mrs. Nelson joined the men at the wagon. “Mr. Mitchum, you must make her eat to keep up her strength. Most likely she’ll refuse food, but she needs to eat and drink as much as possible so she doesn’t become dehydrated.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll see to it.”
“The girls are awake, and they are asking about their mother.”
“I’ll go talk to them.”
Chapter 6
Clint absently stoked the fire as he thought about what he was going to say to the girls. Once his thoughts were in order, he asked Katie and Annie to sit next to him.
