Temperance thumped to the ground. She looked down and saw that her gown was wet with sweat and clinging to her, and it embarrassed her. “Get—get my robe. I can’t sit here like this.”
“It won’t hurt you. Here, eat this.”
Temperance took the bowl of mush and ate a few bites, and at his insistence she ate more. He squatted beside her and watched her. Finally, when she had eaten half of the bowl, he took it back and got water. “Drink all the water you can.”
She drank thirstily and then said vaguely, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never get sick.”
“Well, it ain’t cholera. Thank God for that.”
“No, I know it’s not that. What could it be?”
“Trail sickness.”
“Trail sickness? What’s that?”
“Don’t know what it is, but after a time on the trail, some people get sick. As long as this is the worst it gets, we’re all right. We’ll stay here for a day or two until you perk up.”
“What about the children?”
“I reckon they’ll make out.” With this cryptic remark he rose and left her. Rena came over at once and said, “How do you feel, Temperance?”
“Washed out. I never was so weak.”
“You better just be still.”
“What about the babies?”
“Me and Rose will take care of them.” She smiled suddenly. “Maybe we’ll make Brennan change their diapers a few times. He might learn something.”
* * *
BY THE NEXT DAY Temperance was better, and on the second day after the sickness hit her, she said to Brennan, “I think I can go on now.”
“All right,” he said. “I’d just as soon be on our way.”
Immediately he rose, and Temperance could hear his voice as he urged the kids to do the chores. Within an hour they were rolling along. Temperance stayed in the wagon, lying down. The swaying motion sometimes made her nauseous, but she steadfastly ignored it.
Early in the afternoon Brennan pulled up. He unyoked the oxen and came over to help Temperance out of the wagon. “I think there might be some squirrel or quail over yonder. I’ll take Bent with me. Maybe we can get a mess.”
Temperance was alarmed. She did not want to be left alone, but she did not say so. “All right,” she said. “I’ll get the fire started.”
“No need to do that. I’ve been picking up wood all day, throwing it in the box.” He turned and walked away abruptly. She heard him say, “Bent, come on.”
Rena appeared, asking, “Where are you going?”
“Going hunting.” He walked to his gear, pulled a small pistol out, and handed it to Rena. “If anybody messes with you, shoot ’em.”
Rena suddenly laughed. “You mean it?”
“Aw, nobody will show up. Come on, Bent.”
Bent was there at once. He watched as Brennan swung into the saddle and then kicked his foot out of the stirrup. “Come on. Get on behind me.”
Bent scrambled on quickly. He seemed a long way from the ground. He noticed that Brennan had brought the two shotguns, and now he handed the smaller one back. “That’s your gun. Try not to shoot me, will you? It’s Monday. It’d be just my dumb luck!”
* * *
BENT’S FACE WAS GLOWING. He felt the weight of the bag and said in awe, “We must have ten squirrels in here.”
“And about that many quail too. You’re a pretty good shot. You must have hunted a lot.”
“No, I ain’t never been hunting.”
“Well,” Brennan said, “I’ll just have to turn all the hunting over to you. We’d better get on back now. We’ve got to cook these critters up.”
By the time they got back to camp, Bent was bubbling over. He almost fell off Judas, holding up the bag of game. “Look, Rena, squirrels! I shot four of them myself and I got three quail.”
Rena came over at once. “You shot them yourself, Bent?”
“I sure did. He let me use the little shotgun.”
“That’s enough talk. Anybody know how to clean squirrels?”
“Not me,” Rena said.
“Well, shucks! I got to do everything myself. You and Bent get the fire going. I’ll clean all these critters. After supper I’m going to give you a special treat.”
Temperance offered to help, but Brennan shook his head. “You stay out of this. I’m the cook tonight. I got something that’s going to make you feel a heap better.”
Since she was allowed to do nothing, Temperance seated herself and watched Brennan and was soon filled with wonder at how quick he was. He had a way of cleaning the quail so they practically fell out of their feathers. With the squirrels it was the same way. He had a huge knife that was sharp as a razor; and with two or three motions and one quick cut, he put his hand on the squirrel’s head and ripped the hide off. He gutted them, tossed them in a pile, and then cut them into small pieces. He didn’t speak, but she was amazed, as always, at how handy he was. He rolled the quail in flour and cut up the squirrels into serving pieces. There was a piece of salt pork, and he put the pork in the skillet and cooked them until they were brown, adding water and simmering them until they were tender. He cooked the quail in a half inch of hot grease and made gravy by adding flour to it.
He opened the Dutch oven and said, “Everything’s ready.” He pulled out the pan of biscuits. “Let’s eat.”
They all gathered around, and Bent’s eyes were glowing. “I like to hunt. I’m going to hunt all the time. Maybe I’ll get me a deer one day.”
“Maybe you might even get a buffalo.”
“Really!” Bent’s eyes grew wide as half-dollars.
“Really. Now eat.”
They all ate hungrily. After they were through with the meal, Brennan said, “All right. I got a special treat going.” He took a large pot and disappeared. He was back in less than four minutes. The pot was brimming. “Everybody get a cup,” he commanded.
They all scrambled for cups, and he poured each a drink and said, “Here, add some of this to it.”
“What is it?” Rena asked.
“I mixed up some honey and some vanilla flavoring. Put it in that water.”
They obeyed his instructions and he said, “Drink up.” Temperance cautiously tasted it, and then a shock ran through her. “Why, this is like soda pop!”
“That’s where we are, Soda Springs. I don’t know what there is, something about this water, that’s all bubbly, like they say, champagne here.”
“It’s the best soda pop I ever had,” Bent cried. “Can I have some more?”
“Drink until you pop for all I care.”
Bent tried to do that, and Temperance asked Brennan, “How long have you known about this place?”
“Everybody that goes over the trail knows about Soda Springs. I always used to stop here to drink the stuff. Almost anything is good in it.”
It was growing darker now, and the sun was dropping into the west. The kids had followed his instructions and left the two infants on the pallet. They had gone to get more of the carbonated water. “Timmy’s crawling away.”
“I’ll get him,” Brennan said. He picked the baby up awkwardly and looked at her. “What do I do with him?”
“He just wants to be held awhile.”
He brought the baby and handed him to Temperance, upon which Bess started crying.
“What do I do with her?”
“Hold her for a little bit. She likes to be held.”
“I ain’t much with babies,” Brennan said.
“She won’t bite you. If she does, she doesn’t have any teeth.”
Brennan awkwardly picked up Bess and stood there looking helpless. It amused Temperance that this man, so handy at all things, could not handle a small child. “Sit down, Thaddeus. She just needs a little company.”
Brennan looked at the baby as if she were a foreign object. He held her at arm’s length and Temperance laughed. “Don’t hold her like that. Cuddle her like this.”
“I ain’t cuddl
ing no baby,” Brennan muttered. Nevertheless, his arms grew tired and he sat the child on his lap and supported her with the back of his arm. She looked up at him suddenly and grinned.
“Why, she just grinned at me.”
“She’s quite a flirt.”
Cautiously Brennan stuck his finger out, and the baby took it and immediately tried to put it in her mouth.
“My hands are dirty.”
“It won’t kill her. She likes something to chew on.”
Brennan allowed the baby to gnaw on his fingers, and he studied her own tiny fingers. “Look at that. She’s got fingers just like a real human being.”
Temperance could not help but laugh. “She is a real human being, you idiot! What do you think she is?”
Brennan did not answer. He seemed to be fascinated by the child. Finally Temperance said, “What comes next?”
“The next thing is the Sublette Cutoff. Named after an old-time mountain man. We can save a couple of days, but it’s mighty thirsty. We’ll have to fill up everything we’ve got with water. Be hard on the stock, but I want to save time.”
“And then what?”
“And then we go through the South Pass. All the trains come through there.” Brennan lifted his head. He saw the kids come back and said, “One of you come here and get this here baby. I ain’t got time for messing with no youngun.”
Rena picked Bess up. “First baby you ever held, I bet.”
“No, she’s not. I held my baby sister right after she was born and lots of times after.” Brennan got up abruptly. “I’ve got to see to the stock.”
“I never thought I’d ever see him hold a baby,” Rena said, watching him disappear into the darkness.
“Neither did I, Rena.” She held Timmy close and said, “I think I’ll be better tomorrow. We can make better time.”
“I don’t care,” Rena said. “I ain’t in no hurry to get nowhere.”
* * *
THE SOUTH PASS WAS a disappointment to Temperance. They had passed through the Sublette Cutoff and it had, indeed, been a dry, arid time, but Brennan had found one spring in the middle, so it wasn’t as bad as he had predicted. She had been walking alongside Babe when he had brought his horse up beside her. “There it is, the South Pass,” he had said.
Looking up South Pass was nothing like the dramatic gorge that Temperance had imagined. It was simply a graceful arch coming down from the mountains. The oxen had no trouble pulling over the rise, and when they had passed through, it was high noon.
“Reckon we’ll pull in here for the day. I’ll go see if I can shoot a deer. Could use some venison, maybe even a buffalo.”
“Can I go?” Bent asked.
“Not this time. Next time, Bent.”
Temperance watched with apprehension, as always, when he proposed to leave them alone, but she said nothing. When he had ridden out of sight, she walked to where Rena was already pulling out the implements for cooking supper. “It bothers me to be left alone, Rena.”
“We’ll be all right. Maybe a wagon train will come along. We’ll get to see somebody. I get lonesome.”
“We haven’t seen many.”
“That’s because Brennan won’t let us. What’s he afraid of? Is he wanted by the law?”
In that instance Temperance almost spoke the truth, but she managed to keep the heart of the matter to herself. “I’ll fix supper tonight. You fix the fire.”
* * *
AS BRENNAN RODE ALONG the width of the trail leading out of the South Pass, he scanned the area closely. They were getting close to Cheyenne territory, and the one thing he didn’t want to see was a Cheyenne party. He saw no deer, but he had not expected to. The wagon trains were getting thicker now, scaring the game away. There was not time enough to go deeper into the hills to find game, so he was almost ready to turn back when suddenly he saw something on the ground a few hundred yards away. He could not identify it, so he urged Judas forward at a lope. As soon as he was within a hundred yards, the grim knowledge came to him. It was a body. He pulled Judas up, stepped out of the saddle, and tied him to a sapling. He thought at first it was a dead body, but a groan came from the figure, and when he reached down, he saw it was a woman. Squatting beside her, he rolled her over and saw that she had been beaten severely. Her eyes were both blackened, and blood trickled down her cheek.
“Are you all right, lady?” He started to pull her up, but she cried out sharply, and he began to look for a bullet entrance in her dress. There was no arrow; he saw that at once.
“Now what am I going to do with you out here in the middle of nowhere?” he said. “And who left you in this mess?”
A scheme ran through his head—one that would work. There was a stream a few hundred yards away, and mounting Judas, he rode quickly to it. With his big bowie knife he trimmed two long saplings. He always carried strips of rawhide in his saddlebag, and using the blanket, he rigged a travois and rode back. He tied Judas to the sapling and went to the woman. She groaned and opened her eyes for an instant. Her lips were swollen, but she tried to speak.
“You’re all right, ma’am. Was it Indians?”
The woman, who seemed to be somewhere around twenty-five, shook her head. “No—not Indians.”
“Got to pick you up. I know you’re hurt.” She did not answer, and picking her up, he put her in the travois. He lashed her in with more strips of rawhide, mounted the stallion, and started back toward the wagon, avoiding the potholes and ridges as best he could. From time to time the woman gave a groan, but there was no help for that.
* * *
ROSE WAS FEEDING TIMMY his usual meal of mush and goat’s milk, Bent was taking care of Bess, and Rena and Temperance were washing diapers. Suddenly Bent stood up and squinted toward the east. “There comes Brennan.” He peered harder and said, “He’s pulling something with Judas.”
Temperance at once stood up and walked over to stand beside Bent. “What is that?” she asked.
Rena joined them so that all three were watching. As soon as Judas was close enough, it was Bent who said, “There’s somebody in that thing he’s pulling.”
Brennan stopped Judas, stepped out of the saddle, and said, “Well, just my luck. You might know it’s a Monday.”
Temperance, Rena, and Bent went at once. “Why, it’s a woman!” Bent exclaimed. “What’s the matter with her?”
“Somebody beat her up. Don’t expect she’ll live,” Brennan answered, holding onto Judas’s bridle to keep him still. “Just what we needed—a dying woman to take care of.”
“Don’t be foolish. She’ll be all right,” Temperance said. “We’ll fix a bed for her. Rena, you help.”
Quickly the two of them pulled blankets out and had a bed made. “Bring her over here, Thaddeus,” Temperance said. She watched as the tall man loosened the thongs and scooped the woman up. “She’s hurt pretty bad.” He put her down carefully, ignoring the groans.
“Can you speak?” Temperance said.
They all watched her eyes, nearly swollen shut and already turning glorious shades of green and purple. “I hurt. Can I have some water?” she whispered.
“I’ll get it,” Bent said. He got a glass, filled it with water, and brought it back.
“Hold her up so she can drink, Thaddeus,” Temperance said.
The woman drank thirstily and cried out when she lay down.
“You got some ribs busted, lady. What’s your name?”
“Belle—Belle Vernay.”
“What happened to you?”
The woman called Belle squinted up at him. She whispered, “I got rid of a worthless man.”
“Looks to me like he got rid of you. He just left you there?”
“He was . . . even more worthless than I thought.”
“That’s enough talk. We’ve got to clean her up,” Temperance said. She bathed the woman’s wounded face as well as she could but then looked down. “Where do you hurt?”
“My side,” Belle whispered.
“Might have some ribs busted. We’ll have to tie them up,” Brennan said.
“You know how to do that, Thaddeus?”
“Well, I’ve done it for a man or two. Never a woman, but if the Book’s right, a man’s got one less rib than a woman.”
“Never mind that,” Temperance said. “Tell us what to do.”
“Got to have lots of strips of cloth. Maybe tear up a sheet or old clothes or something. And dose her up good with laudanum. She’s going to need it.”
Temperance rose and got the laudanum. She gave the woman a strong dose. Brennan said, “You kids vamoose.”
“Why?” Rena said. “I want to watch.”
“Mind what I tell you. Git!”
As soon as the kids left, Temperance began tearing a sheet
into strips at Brennan’s direction. “That’ll be enough,” he said. “Here, you’ve got to sit up, Belle.” Belle cried out as he helped her into a sitting position. “Got to take your dress off,” Brennan said. “You want to do this, Peabody?”
“I wouldn’t know how.”
“Her dress has got to come down.”
Temperance unbuttoned the woman’s dress and pulled it down. She was shocked to see the woman wearing nothing underneath it. Brennan paid no attention to the woman’s naked form. He began putting the strips around her, pulling them tight. He ignored her grunts, and finally he finished and tied them off. “Put her dress back on.” Temperance obeyed, and then he said, “I don’t think they’re broke—just cracked. Ain’t nothing hurts worse than a cracked rib. You stay with her. I’ll fix up some eggs.”
“I need . . . . to lay down,” Belle whispered. Temperance helped her, and Belle’s eyes went to Brennan, who was before the fire. “Is he your man?”
“No, he just works for me.”
Belle Vernay’s eyes were mere slits, and her face was puffy, but she managed a slight smile. “Pretty handy sort of man.”
Brennan was not gone long when he brought back a plate of eggs. “Reckon you can eat these. Nothing better for you than fresh eggs.” Belle took a bite, and it was obviously painful.
When she had eaten and drunk a great deal of water, she looked up and said, “What’s your name?”
A Man for Temperance (Wagon Wheel) Page 14
