The Coming Storm

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The Coming Storm Page 33

by Tracie Peterson


  Dianne pressed Pepper to race across the hilltop road. They ignored the pelting spring rain that started in a gentle sprinkle. By the time she neared Bufford’s place, the rain came as a downpour and she struggled to keep her seat, while Pepper worked to keep his footing.

  She saw the doctor’s cabin and much to her relief spied his horse in the lean-to out back. Dianne barely brought Pepper to a stop before jumping from his back. She dropped the reins, knowing the horse was used to being ground-tied. She prayed the storm wouldn’t spook him into running off.

  “Dr. Bufford!” Dianne pounded her gloved fists against the door.

  The man came quickly, barely containing his surprise at her appearance. “Mrs. Selby. It’s not fit weather for you to be out there.” He pulled her inside and closed the door. “What in the world prompted you to get out in this weather?” He noticed her method of dress and frowned even more.

  “I think we have smallpox at the ranch,” she said, dripping water onto the doctor’s well-worn rag rug.

  “Smallpox? Are you sure?”

  “That’s why I’ve come to you,” she said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Koko’s brother showed up today with a couple of friends. They appeared tired, even feverish, but I didn’t see signs of the pox. Koko did, however.”

  “So they’re heathens?”

  Dianne lowered her head and prayed for the right words. “They’re very sick. Not only that,” she said as she looked back up, “I’m afraid for the others. For my son. Please, can you come and help us? At least tell us for sure if it’s smallpox, and if it is, show us how to help them.”

  Bufford stood fixed in place for a moment. He seemed to be considering her words. Turning rather quickly, he pulled on his coat. “I’ll come, but I don’t know that I can do much to help. If it is smallpox, then we may be looking at a long spell of sickness as it passes from person to person.”

  “Will everyone get it?”

  Bufford took up his bag. “Hard to tell. Disease never acts in a predictable manner. Indians have had it much worse with the smallpox. Might be they’ll take it and nobody else will suffer.We won’t know for weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Dianne asked, her voice edged with fear. “But what about the men? They’ve not returned from roundup, but they will. They should be home any day.”

  He shook his head. “We need to keep them on the other side of the quarantine line. That’s very important, Mrs. Selby. Otherwise we might just have an epidemic on our hands. Do you understand?”

  Dianne nodded. “I suppose I do.”

  Cole could only remember one other time when he’d been happier to see the Diamond V ranch, and that had been when Takes Many Horses had brought him to safety after the Sioux had nearly killed him. Now, sitting atop his horse, reading the word QUARANTINE on a crude sign across the lane leading to his home, Cole’s disappointment was turning to anger.

  “Who posted this? Is this some kind of joke?” He turned to Gus and the other boys.

  “What’s it mean, Cole?” Gabe asked from behind.

  “It means there’s sickness here,” Gus answered before Cole could speak. “It means we’d best find out what’s going on before we cross the line.”

  Just then a rider approached from the direction of the house. Cole’s eyes adjusted to the sun and he could make out the figure of his wife as she rode up the lane. She halted a good ten yards away.

  “I’m so glad to see you, but you must keep your distance. We’re under quarantine. We have smallpox.”

  Cole noted the fear in her voice. “How? What happened?”

  “Takes Many Horses and a couple of his friends showed up about ten days ago. They fell ill almost immediately. Dr. Bufford came and he’s done what he could, but we’ve already lost two of them.”

  “Takes Many Horses?” Cole questioned.

  “No, he’s still alive, but very sick. Dr. Bufford doesn’t expect him to live.”

  “What do we need to do?” Gus asked.

  “Dr. Bufford said you could go around the long way and stay down at the bunkhouse, but you need to keep away from the house. Faith and Malachi can give you more information about the way they’ve been helping us.” She paused and Cole heard her voice break. “I’m so sorry about this. I know you’re all tired and have worked hard.”

  Cole wanted only to jump from the horse and go to her—to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right.

  “How’s Luke and the others?”

  Dianne wiped at her tears. “So far, we’re all fine.”

  “And you’re going to stay that way,” Cole said, trying his best to assure her. “You do what the doc says. He’ll have the best idea of how to keep you healthy.”

  Dianne nodded. “I know. It’s just so hard. I’ve missed you all so much and now this. I don’t know if Takes Many Horses will live or die. I just know that I’m very, very afraid.”

  Cole looked to the men. They seemed sympathetic to his plight, but Gus shook his head. “You can’t go in there,” he said firmly. “I won’t let you.”

  “Neither will I,” Trenton said, coming up beside his brother-in-law. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  Cole met Trenton’s narrowed eyes. For just a moment Cole thought of defying them all. It wasn’t fair that Dianne should have to bear this alone. She’d already had to endure so much on her own. Why this? Why now?

  “I know how you feel,” Trenton said softly. “I think everyone here feels the same. But it won’t help her at all if we all go gettin’ sick. Think of the sorrow she’d have at havin’ to bury one of us—or all of us.”

  Cole realized Trenton’s logic, but his desire to help Dianne— to bear this for her—was almost more than he could stand.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll keep a good eye on Cole for you,” Gus called across the distance. “We’re gonna head around to the bunkhouse, little lady. If you need anything at all, send a message. I’ll talk to Miz Faith and Malachi and see what else is to be done.”

  “Thank you, Gus.”

  Cole couldn’t find the strength to turn from his wife. He wanted to look strong, to be reasonable. “I’ll be close,” he finally said. “If you need me, I’ll be there. Quarantine or no.”

  “Stay away, Cole,” she said, barely loud enough for them to hear. “All of you, stay away. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  CHAPTER 33

  DIANNE HATED BEING ISOLATED IN HER WING OF THE HOUSE, but Dr. Bufford thought it better that she not help care for the sick. Koko, however, insisted on working beside the doctor, giving whatever care she could to her brother and his one remaining companion, Runs Too Far.

  Smallpox was a hideous disease; Dianne already knew this quite well. She’d heard horror stories from wagon train travels and from others who had dealt with the sickness. Even Zane had talked of the times he’d encountered the disease in Indian camps. Apparently there were varying degrees to the illness. Some people took smallpox so hard that they were covered in pustules and died within days. Others with lighter cases recovered much more quickly. In any case they were marked for life with the telltale pox marks. So far, Zane had managed to avoid getting sick himself, so Dianne hoped fervently that she and the others might also remain well. It seemed for all of his exposure he would have had a very good chance of succumbing to the disease, but even Dr. Bufford had to admit he’d been around smallpox on many occasions and had yet to take ill himself.

  Shortly after midnight, Dianne finally managed to get Luke to bed. It was as if the turmoil affected his ability to rest. He’d been fussy for two days running, and all Dianne could think about was whether he was coming down sick. She checked him one last time as she covered him. His skin was dry and cool. No sign of fever. It was too early for him to begin teething, so Dianne prayed it was nothing more than a colicky stomach.

  Luke settled into sleep, his baby lips sucking at the air for a moment. He looked so sweet—so peaceful. Dianne breathed a sigh of relief at his co
ntentment. She had just begun to undress when a knock came on her door. She couldn’t imagine who it might be.

  “Yes?” she called.

  “It’s Dr. Bufford.” She opened the door and he continued, “You must come. Your aunt has collapsed from exhaustion and Runs Too Far has died. I need to bury him as soon as possible, and while I didn’t want you working with the sick, I now have no choice.”

  Dianne nodded, pulling the door closed behind her. “We can have Charity take care of Luke. What of Takes Many Horses?”

  “He’s not good. I don’t expect him to make it. The pox is covering most of his body, and his breathing is so labored he can’t hope to keep fluid from building in the lungs. He’s not even strong enough to cough.”

  They walked to the stairs and Bufford reached out to take hold of Dianne’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have come for you, but your aunt begged me to. I don’t know if she’s coming down with smallpox or if it’s just the long hours she’s worked to keep the others alive.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Dianne asked, looking up to meet the doctor’s stern expression.

  “I’m saying you may come down sick. You may contract smallpox.”

  Dianne continued down the stairs and Bufford quickly caught up with her. “Did you hear what I said?”

  Dianne nodded. Her heart was torn. She wanted to stay alive and healthy for her husband and son, but she felt compelled to care for Koko and her children—and if necessary, Takes Many Horses. “I promised my uncle that I would take care of them. I know she’d do the same for me.”

  “I kind of figured you’d feel that way, but I wanted to let you know just how bad this can be.”

  Dianne reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to the older man. “I know you probably think it foolish to trade a white life for that of a Blackfoot, but if that’s what is required, then I’ll do what I must. I love my family, Dr. Bufford. I love all of them. Lucas and Cole, as well as Koko and Takes Many Horses. If they need me, then I must put aside my fears. I must do what is required of me. Just as you have. As you’ve pointed out to me, you’ve managed to remain healthy all these years, and you’ve dealt with the pox many times.” She looked at him as if daring him to contradict her.

  “Very well. Your aunt is in the small room just off the kitchen. I believe the children are there as well.”

  “Thank you. I’ll come find you after I see to her.”

  “I’ll be digging a grave for Runs Too Far,” he said matter-offactly. “Gotta bury them quickly to keep from spreading the disease. I’ll be burning the linens and blankets as well. Sorry for the waste. After that, I’ll come check on Takes Many Horses; of course, he’ll probably be dead by then.”

  Dianne tried not to believe they might yet need a grave for Koko’s brother as well. She wasn’t yet ready to let him go. He’d been such a strange part of her life, and the thought of losing him was more than she wanted to consider.

  “I’ll go get Charity, then I’ll tend my aunt. I’m going to suggest Charity take the children to her cabin. Will that be all right?”

  Bufford nodded. “I suppose so. Tell her to keep the Indian children away from your son.”

  “Dr. Bufford, I’ve told you before that—”

  He held up his hand. “I wasn’t saying that out of a prejudiced heart, but rather a doctor’s reasoning. Those children have been exposed to this illness; your son has not. If she can keep them separate, we’ll limit the exposure the baby has to the pox.”

  Dianne calmed and realized she’d misjudged him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I’ll do as you say.”

  Dianne went and woke Ben and Charity. She explained the situation quickly and after the couple prayed with her for her health and safety, they followed her back to the house.

  “Luke is asleep in his cradle. I suppose you’ll have to feed him milk. I don’t want him around me until I’m sure I won’t take sick.”

  “I’ll see to him—don’t you worry about a thing,” Charity said.

  “Ben, if you want to come with me, I’ll help you get Jamie and Suzy.”

  Ben nodded, suppressing a yawn. He followed Dianne to the kitchen and waited until she was able to rouse the children and bring them out. She carried Susannah to Ben and turned to find a sleepy-eyed Jamie standing behind her.

  “Mama’s sick, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “Yes, I suppose she is. We don’t know if it’s the pox or if she’s just been working too hard. I want you and your sister to stay with Pastor Ben and Miz Charity. They will take good care of you. I’ll try to let you know how your mama is doing, all right?”

  Jamie seemed a little more awake now and nodded. “I can stay and help.”

  Dianne tousled his hair and shook her head. “No. That would only worry your mama. She’ll feel better knowing you and Susannah are safe from the sickness.”

  “Come along now, Jamie,” Ben said gently. “I have some cookies we can nibble before we go back to sleep.”

  Jamie seemed quite open to this idea and followed Ben from the house just as Charity came down the back stairs with Luke wrapped in blankets. Dianne longed to see her son—to touch him one more time, but instead she nodded to Charity and turned away so she wouldn’t see the tears beginning to form.

  “Thank you, Charity. I’ll rest easier knowing he’s safely with you.”

  Dianne went quickly to Koko’s room. The storage room was large and roomy, but with one bed and two pallets, the space had been eaten up. Now with the children gone, Dianne gathered the bedding and put it to one side, again giving the room a more spacious feel. I might well need this bedding for myself, she thought and she draped it over the edge of the food shelves. It might be wise to make my bed here with Koko.

  Dianne was relieved to find Koko already sleeping. She touched her hand lightly to her aunt’s forehead and found it warm—maybe feverish. The possibility was great, and only time would tell whether Koko would have to endure the pox.

  “Oh, God, please put an end to this sickness. Let there be no more cases. Let the sick recover.”

  Seeing that Koko slept easily, Dianne made her way back through the kitchen and to the small sitting room they’d used for nursing the ill. Takes Many Horses was alone—a shadow of the man he’d once been. The sickness had ravaged his body, leaving so many pustules he was almost white from the covering. He struggled to breathe, but otherwise he was completely still.

  Dianne approached him quietly, tears once again forming in her eyes. He had been a handsome man, full of life and strength. Now he was reduced to this. Barely alive—completely oblivious to his circumstance.

  She took up a washcloth and dipped it into the basin of cool water. Touching it to Takes Many Horses’ forehead, she was startled when he opened his eyes.

  “Stands Tall Woman?”

  “Yes, I’m here. You should be sleeping—not talking.”

  “I’m alone,” he said, closing his eyes.

  She noted the empty bed where Runs Too Far had most likely been only an hour before. “Your friends have passed on,” she admitted, then continued carefully blotting his face with the cold cloth.

  “I will die,” he said, his voice resolved.

  “No!” she declared, halting her ministering. “You don’t have to die.”

  He shook his head. “At least I’m not on the reservation.”

  Dianne sat down beside him. She hadn’t meant to be so stern. She softened her voice. “No, you’re safe here.”

  He fell silent, and Dianne was certain he’d fallen back into his sickness-induced sleep. She tried not to be appalled by the pustules that covered the warrior’s face and body. He couldn’t help the condition of his body.

  “You know that I love you,” he said without opening his eyes.

  The words startled her, more because she’d thought he was asleep. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He opened his eyes and looked into her face. “I’ve loved you since that first day when you—” he
gasped for air—“stood tall against us.”

  “You shouldn’t talk. You need your strength to recover.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t recover. I’ll die as my friends did. Not as a warrior, but at least as a . . . a . . . free man.”

  “You might not die,” Dianne said, dabbing the cloth to his neck. “You must at least try to fight the sickness and live. Koko needs you to live. She may well have the pox herself.”

  “I’d like to live, but life will never be the same.” He drew a ragged breath. “The Blackfoot ways are gone—or will be soon.”

  “I know,” Dianne whispered. “But you always have a home here.”

  “Can your God forgive me . . . even now?”

  Her eyes widened. “God can forgive you anytime—anyplace.”

  “But my life . . . my deeds were not always good.”

  Dianne smiled. “Nor were mine. I still make mistakes.” “But I’ve taken lives. Can God forgive that?”

  She stood and rinsed the cloth before answering. “Yes, Takes Many Horses, God can forgive that. If you are repentant and truly sorry for what you’ve done, God will forgive it. God looks into the heart of a man—He’ll know if you are sincere.”

  She came back to his bed and put the cloth upon his brow. “Do you wish to ask forgiveness?”

  “I don’t know how,” he replied.

  “I could help you to pray,” she said, her hope growing. “I could pray the words aloud, and you could pray them silently so as to save your energy and breath.”

  “Then we should pray,” he said, closing his eyes. He struggled to breathe, the raspy sound growing worse.

  Dianne knelt beside the bed and took hold of his hand. She began to pray aloud, conscious of every breath the man took. I know he’ll probably die, she prayed silently, but God, he’s reaching out to you. He needs to make his peace.

  “Dear Father,” she said aloud, “I know I’ve done many wrong things—you know what they are.” She paused, giving Takes Many Horses time to consider the words and pray them for himself. She continued the prayer, ever mindful of the sick man’s breathing.

 

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