The doctor was speaking again, and Nathaniel forced his mind to focus on the man’s words. “Keep giving her the herbs Mr. Grant left for her. Cathleen told me what they were, and he provided a good assortment. They’ll help with the pain and healing from the inside.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The doctor heaved out a heavy breath. “I wish there was more I could do, but most of this will require waiting and praying.” His gaze drifted to Miss Grant. “You can let my sister and her husband know I’ll be readying the horses.”
She nodded, but the gesture seemed stiff, almost wooden.
Nathaniel gave her hand a gentle squeeze, something to let her know they’d work their way through this. The action seemed to bring her alive, and her gaze darted to his as though she wasn’t sure how she’d ended up with her hand on his arm.
She pulled away, then turned toward the house. “I’d better let Reuben and Cathleen know.”
But she’d only gone a few steps before she stopped and spun back around. “Mr. Peak, I’d like to take Itu back with us to Reuben’s house. I can care for her there. All of us can help. That way she won’t interfere with your work.”
Even though he’d half expected the request after her earlier comment, the idea of Itu leaving him slammed like a fist in his gut. She was his responsibility. Had been left in his barn. What if her people came back for her? They surely would. If they didn’t speak English, he’d have no way of communicating where the girl was.
And besides that, was it even safe to move her with the leg in such a precarious position? The doctor had said to keep her still. Surely that didn’t involve an hour’s ride to a different cabin.
“Do you agree?”
He had to answer her, but he hated to disappoint the hope lighting her features. Still, he shook his head. “I think she should stay here. I’ll do what I need to for her care, and this is where her people will come to look for her. Besides, the doctor said not to move her.”
Miss Grant’s chin rose and her expression closed off. “He meant she shouldn’t be allowed to get up and walk around. With us, I can keep her entertained, and we’ll have plenty of food for her at all times.”
Her words hit a spot already rubbed raw. Sure, he wasn’t quite as stocked as he’d like to be, but Itu would never want for food as long as he could help it. “Miss Grant, I’m perfectly capable of feeding her as often as she wants to eat. Do you even have room for her over there? Seems like there’s a mess of people in that one little cabin.”
Her pretty brown eyes flared. “At least our cabin stands straight and doesn’t let the rain blow in through the cracks.”
A low blow but one he couldn’t dodge. He worked to corral his anger, and he’d barely managed the feat when that very cabin door opened and Reuben stepped out, his wife behind him.
“Hannah?” The man’s tone held a note of concern. He must have heard their raised voices.
Miss Grant spun toward Reuben. “All is well, I was simply explaining to Mr. Peak that it would be better for Itu to come with us so we can care for her.”
Reuben’s brow lowered, then he shifted his gaze to Nathaniel, his face a question.
Nathaniel eased out a pent-up breath. Looked like the man would hear both sides before answering. Surely that meant Reuben would see reason and convince Miss Grant of it.
He forced his voice to steady. “I think it’s best she stay here. Her people will return for her, and I don’t speak the language, so I won’t be able to tell them where she is before they run a knife through me. Also, the doctor said she shouldn’t be moved. I don’t mind caring for her. She’s my responsibility. She was found in my barn.”
Reuben was silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving Nathaniel’s face. It was impossible to read his thoughts. At last, he glanced at his wife, a silent message passing between them. Then he turned to Miss Grant, and his voice gentled. “Hannah, I think she should stay here. All of Nathaniel’s reasons are valid.”
“But can he give her the care she needs?”
Nathaniel had never seen Miss Grant this worked up. Even when they were setting the girl’s broken bone, she’d maintained a calm that he’d envied. Why did she care so much about this child? A stranger.
For that matter, why did he?
He didn’t have time to stop and examine his reasons now. He just knew in his gut he needed to do everything he could for the girl. He needed to do it, not foist her off onto the neighbor women.
A slow awareness crept over him, realization that all three pairs of eyes were fastened on him. Had they asked him a question? He ran back through the last words in his mind. Miss Grant asked whether Nathaniel could give the girl the care she needed.
He nodded firmly. “I’ll do everything I can for her. Including”—he cut his gaze to Miss Grant—“making sure she eats as much as she wants.” This was all a little ridiculous. They had the same goal—for Itu to heal and be as comfortable as possible in the process.
He softened his tone and his posture, locking his gaze with Miss Grant’s. “I truly want to help her, just like the rest of you do. I’ll do my very best, and you’re welcome to come visit whenever you want.” He motioned toward the cabin. “Just come in and make yourself at home with her.”
Something in her posture eased, maybe in the line of her jaw. “You don’t mind if I come any time?” Her voice sounded resigned.
He offered a touch of a smile. “Night or day.”
Her sigh spanned the distance between them as she turned to the Scotts. “The doctor said to tell you he’s in the barn preparing his horse. I’m going to stay with her a while. I’ll be along before dark.”
Reuben glanced at his wife, his expression turning uneasy. “I’ll stay too. You can ride back to our place with Bryan.”
Well, it looked like he’d have company again. His little cabin probably hadn’t seen this much activity since it was built.
If they stayed with the girl, maybe he could at least check his cows once before night fell. This was going to be tricky keeping up with all his responsibilities.
He could only hope he hadn’t taken on more than he could handle.
Chapter Nine
The irony of our situation has never escaped me. Yet it doesn’t stop my longing.
~ Hannah
If Hannah didn’t know better, she’d have thought her mother was intentionally keeping her from going to visit Itu. The next day, Mama brought out Cathleen’s wash tub and they scrubbed clothing and linens all morning, then made fresh lye soap in the afternoon. She seemed on a mission to accomplish everything she could for Cathleen while they were there.
And how long would they be staying? Papa hadn’t wanted to estimate before they arrived, as he had no idea whether Reuben would accept him. But now that her parents were enjoying this time to get to know their new son and daughter, what did that mean for their departure date?
She couldn’t leave before she saw Itu back to health.
And how could she do that if she didn’t go see the girl? How had the child fared this first day with only Mr. Peak? The possibilities churned in her mind, and by nightfall, a knot had developed in Hannah’s midsection. Tomorrow, she would go see for herself.
And she’d take some food so the pair had more to eat than beans and cornbread. That couldn’t be healthy as the child’s only diet. Nor the man’s.
At the table the next morning, conversation drifted from her father’s desire to ride to Butte for supplies to Reuben’s cattle and the progress he’d made cutting hay for the winter. Reuben talked about his land and how he rotated the animals among pastures, all topics she was accustomed to discussing over a meal, given their own ranch.
But she couldn’t keep her mind from straying to the little Indian girl lying in a cabin an hour’s ride away.
During a moment when the talking had faded and only the sounds of forks scraping plates and steady chewing were heard, she looked to her mother. “I plan to visit Itu today, this morn
ing, if you don’t need me for something.”
All noise ceased as the others looked at her. Papa’s gaze penetrated all the way through her. She hadn’t meant to become a spectacle, only to confirm her agenda for the day.
“Do you think that’s wise, dear?” Mama’s tone was gentle, yet the concern was hard to miss.
“She surely needs a friend to cheer her up, and Mr. Peak will need help with her.”
“What exactly do you know about this man?” Papa turned this question to Reuben.
Her new brother met his gaze. “I met him the same day you all came, and I think I’ve told you all I know. He was in the cavalry four years but said he left because he didn’t like all he was asked to do with the Indians. Before that, I think he said he hailed from Virginia. He seems a decent fellow, but...”
She’d better speak up if she was to have any say-so in this decision. “I’m perfectly able to handle myself around him. And I suspect he’ll be eager to leave me stay with the child while he takes care of his work away from the cabin. It can’t be easy watching her and trying to get a ranch started.”
“I’ll go over with her.” Reuben spoke almost before her last word faded. “I should offer to lend a hand to get him settled anyway.”
Her father studied Reuben, worry lines still furrowing his brow. “Are you sure?”
The younger man nodded, then took another bite of ham as though the matter were decided.
She wasn’t thrilled that her new brother felt the need to babysit her, but she’d be happy for this conversation to end. “I’ll be ready to leave soon after breakfast.”
He nodded. And even though she didn’t look at either of her parents, she could feel the strength of their gazes on her. At least neither objected. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they refused her.
Their family had always worked together. They had to in order to make a life in the Canadian mountains. Going against a direct request didn’t feel right.
And her father. He wasn’t bound by blood to love her or even put up with her. He could just as easily turn his back, say she wasn’t worth his trouble.
She was glad they hadn’t forbidden her to go see Itu. Her spirit yearned to know how the child was faring. To care for her—not just her body but her mind and emotions, too.
A half hour later, she and Reuben were on the trail. One thing about this new brother, he didn’t waste much—neither time nor words. He’d efficiently saddled the horses and loaded the food supplies while she’d helped clean up from the morning meal.
Silence settled over them as they rode through the woody mountain terrain. She was used to silence. Usually she preferred it. But this quiet felt stiff and clumsy, as if he wasn’t sure what to say around her.
The other day when they’d ridden home together, she’d been so weary, the quiet ride hadn’t bothered her so much. But his reserve grated on her today.
What could she say to start him talking? In truth, she knew so little about this brother, and hadn’t yet found anything they shared in common except for the fact that he wasn’t a great conversationalist. Neither was she.
Thankfully, he spoke first. “Did you like growing up in Canada?”
Was that a note of longing in his tone? Maybe it had only sounded in her imagination. “The country’s beautiful. Somewhat like this, but the area we live in doesn’t have near as many trees.”
He nodded, then paused before speaking again. “You have...two brothers? I mean...” His shoulders rose as though he was inhaling a breath. “We have two brothers?”
She swallowed. This must be so hard for him. Coming to terms with an entire family he never knew about. “Yes. Robert is twenty-one and Will is thirteen. They stayed behind to keep the ranch running. My uncles will help, of course.”
“Uncles. Are they...?” His words dropped off. Maybe he wasn’t sure how to ask whether they were on Papa or Mama’s side. In other words, were they a relation to him, too, or only to her?
The best way to answer was probably to talk through each one. “Let’s see, Papa has a sister and two brothers who live near us. The house next to ours belongs to Aunt Noelle and Uncle Daniel. She’s Papa’s sister, and she’s also a journalist. They have two children—Eli and Lena. Then there’s Uncle Seth and Aunt Rachel. He’s one of Papa’s youngest brothers. They have Andy, Patrick, and Ruth. Next door to them is Seth’s twin brother Samuel. He and his wife, Moriah, have Cherry and Nat.”
He slid a sideways glance at her. Maybe at the unusual names?
“Aunt Moriah is half-Indian. The Piegan tribe. I think Nat is named after her grandfather—short for something I can’t ever remember.”
He tipped his head. “We have Piegan in the family?”
She nodded. “By marriage.”
His brow wrinkled as silence settled over them again. Yet this time she could tell he was deep in thought.
Finally, he spoke again. “Robert and Will, do they look like...our father?” The word our still made him stumble. “I mean, my eyes are blue but they’re the same shape. And our stature.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, you and Papa bear a striking resemblance. The boys, too, except they’re not quite as broad as you. Maybe because they’re still young. Their eyes are just like Papa’s.”
He glanced sideways at her, seemed to be studying her. “Your eyes aren’t the same. Brown, but a different shape.” His tone held only curiosity, not censure. He was simply struggling to understand his new family.
Yet the reminder pressed hard in her chest. If he was to truly know their family, it was only fair he know everything.
She took a fortifying breath. “You’re right. My eyes don’t look like his because he’s not my father by birth.” She didn’t look at Reuben as she spoke, but caught the sudden stiffening of his posture out of the corner of her eye.
“What do you mean?”
Now that she’d begun, she’d have to tell the full story. Except maybe just the shortened version. “When they met, Mama’s first husband had died, and she was expecting me. My Uncle Joseph was traveling with her up to Canada. They’re twins, too.” She slid a look at him, and the word caught his attention as she expected it would. “They needed someone to show them the way, so Papa agreed, and they journeyed the rest of the way together. All three of them.
“By the time they reached Mama’s aunt and uncle in the valley where we live now, Papa and Mama had fallen in love. I was born, and Papa took me as his own. Gave me his name.”
She wanted to look at Reuben again but couldn’t quite bring herself to. Did he realize the deeper reality in what she’d just said? Papa had given up Reuben and his sister for other parents to raise, but he’d taken her—a girl not his own flesh and blood—and raised her as his own. The other truth it brought to light was that she and Reuben were not truly brother and sister by blood.
Yet he was her brother. In every way that counted.
She needed to say something about what a changed man Papa said he’d become by the time he and Mama married. How he’d been so bitter before. Mired in the loss of his wife and children.
Maybe it wasn’t her story to tell, but she could at least plant the seed.
Turning her gaze to her brother, she spoke. “Reuben, you should ask our father to tell you about the years after he left you and Nora. I don’t think it was a good time for him, but you should ask him.”
Her brother looked at her, his gaze swimming with a world of emotions. Not a look she’d seen on him before. At last, he nodded.
For the rest of the ride, he said little, but she didn’t mind now. The wall between them was broken like winter ice in a water trough.
Little by little, she’d come to know this new brother. And now, she was actually looking forward to the journey.
THE FINE HAIRS ON THE back of Nathaniel’s neck rose as he hammered the log against the side of the cabin wall. He paused mid-blow and looked around.
Someone was out there. He’d seen the trampled leaves just insi
de the edge of the woods.
They were probably watching even now. Should he go investigate? Thus far, the person hadn’t attempted to come closer. At least, not that he could tell.
Whoever it was must have returned for Itu. They’d probably looked in the barn and, not finding her, now watched until they knew for sure what he’d done with her.
Should he bring the child out? Or show the stranger he knew of their presence and invite them in?
In truth, he didn’t want them to come in, not if it meant they’d try to take the girl away. She was too injured to be moved, the doctor said. Nathaniel had been giving her all the teas and herbs Grant left for her, and the willow tea seemed to be taking the edge off her pain and helping her rest.
If she left with the person watching from the woods, she’d lose all that. Her leg would grow worse, and the infection could even kill her if it spread through her body.
He couldn’t let that happen.
After driving the last few blows against the log, he turned, picked up his rifle and tools, and headed back into the house. Part of him simply needed to know for sure she was still there. That she’d not been absconded with.
Itu opened her eyes as he stepped inside, and her face brightened a little—enough to send a warmth through his chest.
He couldn’t help a smile of his own. “Hey, there.”
She responded with sounds in her own language. She had a sweet, tiny voice. If only he could understand what she wanted to tell him.
He walked to her and eased his weary bones down to kneel beside her. When he brushed the dark locks from her forehead, her skin felt warmer than usual. Was it time for more tea?
He glanced toward the shelf over the hearth as if seeing the various herbs would help him know what time it was. One day he’d cut a window in this room. When he could obtain glass.
He was pretty sure it was too early for more medicine, but perhaps she was hungry. Scrunching his fingers together like he was raising food to his mouth, he asked, “Eat? Hungry?”
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