“All I know is that if God means for you and Josh Rivers to be together, you will be. And you have five or six days yet before they get here. Make good use of them, Marybeth. Don’t you give up the fight. You think of Danny.”
Marybeth looked over at her son. “That’s what Josh said. I should do it for Danny if I cannot do it for myself,”
“And he is right.”
Marybeth moved closer to her son, leaning down and kissing his soft cheek. “He is right.” She studied her little boy, her heart pounding from the realization of what she must do, and from the lingering ecstasy of Josh Rivers’ kiss.
Chapter Twelve
The land finally began to change, from flat and monotonous to gradual swells that looked deceptively flat until the oxen began to snort and pant from the constant climbing. Marybeth’s own heart pounded with the effort of walking, and when she looked back, she could see for what seemed miles and was amazed at how high they were. Far off to the north there was a continuous line of hills so high they could almost be considered mountains. She wondered if they were the mountains Cap and the scouts had talked about. If so, they had lied about how big they were. Ireland had much higher hills in places.
After the first unexpected incline, the wagon train descended again for nearly the same distance, giving man and animal a small break. But then would come another swell, longer and higher than the last, and Marybeth began to realize they were going to be climbing constantly now. Surely that meant there were mountains ahead, much bigger than any she had seen yet. She longed for the change of scenery.
Grasshoppers seemed to be everywhere, and the bottom half of her skirt was peppered with them. She gave up trying to swat them away and decided to just let them have a free ride. At least she didn’t have to carry Danny all the time. The Gentry children took turns watching the baby, either inside the Svensson wagon or sometimes inside the wagon Josh had purchased to let them use. Little Danny was nearly nine months old now and to Marybeth’s relief he was breast feeding less, only three times a day. She realized she might have to reduce that to twice a day, since she seemed to keep running out of milk. But she worried about feeding him solid food, afraid some of it would make him sick. But just that morning one of the other families, who had a milk cow along, had offered to let her have whatever milk she needed. Her heart was warmed by the offer, and she felt more accepted every day.
Still, all that really mattered was how Josh Rivers felt about her. She had not seen him all day. He had ridden off to hunt, and she realized that in the few short hours since she had seen him the night before, she actually missed him.
The thought surprised her, but also made her happy. Suddenly there was someone special in her life, and her future didn’t seem so dark. She realized he was right, that she had to live her own life away from the MacKinders, and his support gave her the extra courage she needed to do just that. She could only pray that courage would remain strong when she again looked into the eyes of John MacKinder.
The afternoon turned hot and muggy, and Marybeth put Danny into the Svensson wagon because little Toby Gentry felt sick. No one thought much about it at first, until by evening the boy was vomiting frequently and shaking with chills and fever. By the time the sun disappeared behind the western horizon, the child was badly dehydrated and groaning with pain all through his body. When Marybeth went to Josh’s wagon, where the boy lay, she was shocked by the dark circles under Florence Gentry’s eyes and the look of horror on her face.
“Go away, Marybeth,” she told her. “Cap says he thinks it’s cholera.”
Marybeth felt her blood run cold. Cholera was more dreaded by travelers than all the other dangers they faced on such a journey. The word was like a death knell to Marybeth. Little Toby had helped watch Danny that morning. Not only did her heart ache for poor Florence, who had already lost most of her belongings in the tornado, but now her little boy could die—let alone the fact that her other two children, and even Florence herself or Samuel, could get the dreaded disease. Worse for Marybeth, Danny could catch it. Everyone knew that cholera was very contageous.
“Oh, Florence,” was all she managed to say, her eyes brimming.
“Go and keep an eye on Danny,” the woman told her, her voice cold and dull. “I pray to God the baby doesn’t get it. To watch your own child suffer is the worst horror a mother can experience. I would feel responsible if Danny gets sick.”
Marybeth stepped closer to the wagon but did not climb inside. “It wouldn’t be your fault. How can any of us know how something like this gets started?”
Florence breathed deeply for self-control, and Marybeth heard Toby groan. “Cap says it might have been the river water. Toby swam in it a couple of days ago—kept dunking under it and must have swallowed some. Cap says not to drink any river water unless you boil it first.”
Marybeth reached up to grasp the woman’s hand, but Florence drew away. “Go on now, Marybeth. Cap says we have to pull the wagon away from the others and wait a day or two before going on to see if anyone else gets sick. Please tell Josh Rivers I’m sorry. The wagon might have to be burned.”
Marybeth felt almost dizzy from the shock of it. She turned away, half stumbling back to the Svensson wagon. She climbed inside and grabbed up Danny, hugging him close and telling Delores the awful news.
“Delores, Danny was around Toby this morning,” Marybeth said, the words sounding like a death sentence. Delores met her eyes, and she saw the terror in Marybeth’s. “I could face anything but losing Danny,” Marybeth told her. “I would marry John MacKinder and live with him the rest of my life, if it meant saving Danny. I would give up my own life.”
Delores touched her arm. “We just have to pray that by some miracle he doesn’t get it. You have to have faith, Marybeth.”
Marybeth hugged Danny close and burst into tears. “Nothing has gone right in my life,” she cried. “How can I expect to be spared this? If Danny gets sick, I hope I do, too. If he dies, I want to die.”
Delores watched her helplessly, wishing she knew the right things to say. She put a hand to her belly, where she was sure Aaron’s son grew. Would she get sick, too? After all, she had helped watch Danny. If she got sick but didn’t die, would the disease kill her baby? She had never heard of anyone having cholera and surviving.
Outside she heard Cap calling a meeting. She knew what it would be about, and she stayed in the wagon with Marybeth. She heard a rider come in and guessed it must be Josh Rivers. Moments later she heard weeping, and then a wagon clattered away. Poor Florence would have to suffer through the next couple of days alone, watching Toby die—possibly more than one child—and there would be no one there to comfort her.
“Could have been the river water,” she heard Cap saying. People mumbled, and someone started crying. “Might have had something to do with the chickens,” Cap said then. “Who can say? Sam Gentry is going to kill the chickens and burn them.”
Neither Marybeth nor Delores could believe the things they were hearing. “We’ll stay here a couple of days and wait to see if anybody else comes down with it. Everybody try to keep your children in and around your own wagon—no mixin’ company for a while. Anybody has a member of the family get sick, you drop behind and stay far to the back of the train when we do ride out until you’re sure you’re clean. I expect you can keep the wagon, as long as you burn everything that had anything to do with the sick person—bedding, towels, clothes, utensils—everything. Understood? And stay away from river water for drinking. If you run out of fresh water, boil river water before you use it. A doctor in San Francisco told me that sometimes helps. He’s seen this among the miners.”
There were quiet murmers and more weeping. Then the camp grew strangely quiet. Usually children romped about; here and there a man would play a tune on a harmonica or a fiddle; people visited back and forth. But there were none of those sounds this night.
Marybeth told herself she had to be strong now, for Danny’s sake. In the back of her mind
she realized this holdup meant another dread: Mac and John would catch up with them sooner.
“Marybeth?”
She turned to see Josh standing at the back of the wagon. “Go away!” she cried. “Toby Gentry helped watch Danny this morning.”
He frowned and climbed into the wagon. “Go away!” Marybeth told him again.
“I won’t. Do you think I don’t realize what you’re suffering right now? I’ve seen cholera down in Texas, Marybeth. I’ve been around it before and I’m not going to let it scare me off from being with you when you need me.”
“I had better go outside and talk to Aaron about this,” Delores told Marybeth, touching her arm. “We will pray for Danny, Marybeth.”
“Pray for yourselves,” Marybeth whispered. “I’m sorry, Delores. If I hadn’t stayed with you—”
“Don’t speak nonsense,” the woman answered. “How could any of us have known?” She patted Marybeth’s arm and climbed out of the wagon. Marybeth felt a strong arm come around her shoulders.
“Oh, I wish you would stay away from us,” she entreated Joshua. “Cholera can kill anyone. It doesn’t matter how strong you are.”
Josh rubbed her shoulder. “Let me see Danny. I’ve never even got a good look at him up close. Hell, it might be important for the boy to get to know me, you know.”
She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “How can you do this? My baby could be carrying the disease. If you get close to him—”
He only grinned, reaching through her arms and taking Danny from her. He spoke softly to the boy, and Danny smiled, kicking and reaching up to grab Josh’s nose. Josh laughed and set the boy on his feet, helping him stand on fat, strong legs. “He’s going to be big—a real MacKinder, in size, at least. Let’s hope he’s not a MacKinder in personality.” He met her eyes and saw her devastation. Josh pulled the boy close against him and took Marybeth’s hand. “Look, you still breast feed him, don’t you?”
She reddened at the words and looked at her lap. “I…yes…but lately I seem to—I can only feed him twice a day.”
“Well, it’s not a solid proven fact, but I’ve heard that while babies are breast feeding, they’re a lot less likely to get certain diseases because of something or other in the mother’s milk. There is nothing much healthier than a baby while he’s still on his mother’s milk. I’ll bet this kid has never had so much as a sniffle or a cough, has he?”
She looked at him with hope in her eyes. “He hasn’t…is that true?”
He wasn’t sure it was true at all, but if it gave her hope, that was all that mattered. “Sure it’s true. Why would I tell you if it wasn’t? My sister’s babies never had one sick day while they were still breast-feeding.”
Her eyes misted. “Oh, Josh, if anything happens to Danny, I want to die, too! I’m so scared. No MacKinder ever frightened me like this frightens me!”
He smiled for her. “You’re both going to be all right. After all, I already told you there was a reason you ran into me at that courthouse. Somebody means for us to be together. How can that happen if you and the boy go and die on me?”
She smiled through her tears. “You’re always so sure of things you can’t even control.”
He put an arm around her shoulders again. “Well, us Texans have a way of thinking nothing can get the better of us. There aren’t many more stubborn than people south of the Red River; and there aren’t many who have suffered through more hardships. Out here we climb one mountain at a time. Right now the mountain is cholera. When we’ve made it over that one, there is the MacKinder mountain to tackle. We’ll take care of that one, too, and then there will be the real mountains to get across. And somewhere out there in Oregon there is a pretty valley called the Willamette. When we reach that, there won’t be any more mountains to climb, Marybeth.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and hugged both Josh and the baby, crying. “Oh, hold me, Josh. I know it seems wrong and bold, but just hold me and don’t let go!”
Danny reached out and patted at her face, saying, “Mama.”
“There’s nothing wrong with needing to be held once in a while,” Josh answered, gladly keeping his arm around her.
For two days they waited. The first morning they saw a fire in the distance and knew little Toby must have died. The Gentrys were burning the boy’s belongings. Marybeth ached to go to poor Florence and comfort her, for she was still haunted by the memory of Wilma Sleiter killing herself.
“Florence Gentry is a lot stronger than that,” Josh told her.
She wondered if she could have gotten through the ordeal without him. He stayed with her almost constantly, telling humorous stories about Texas around the Svensson campfire, keeping up their spirits. Every time Marybeth fed Danny, she remembered what Josh told her and clung to that hope, praying her milk would not dry up completely. Josh’s reference to the breast feedings had created a feeling of intimacy between them. It struck Marybeth that she felt as natural near Josh Rivers as though he had always been here, as though Danny belonged to him. When Danny was awake, Josh played with him, and the boy responded to him in a way he had never responded to either his uncle or his grandfather.
Seven more families were struck down with the disease. After two days Cap got the wagon train moving again, and all eight affected wagons dropped behind. Every night the rest of them could smell the smoke from burning belongings, and to their horror they noticed the Gentrys again made a fire. To ease Marybeth’s anxiety, Josh rode back to their camp, keeping his distance as he yelled out to Sam Gentry, asking if they had lost someone else. He rode back to Marybeth, sorrow in his dark eyes. “Melinda,” was all he said.
“Oh, dear God,” Delores gasped.
Marybeth closed her eyes and fell into Josh’s arms. “She was only eight years old,” she wept. “How can a woman stand to lose even one child, let alone two? Oh, Josh, all those little graves! Poor little Toby and Melinda!”
“Death is just part of the circle of life, Marybeth,” he told her softly. “That’s one thing I learned from my brother-in-law.”
Marybeth prayed almost constantly over her rosary beads, and she realized Josh seemed to accept her religion without question. He even asked her once to say a “Hail Mary,” for him. “Not for cholera,” he told her, “but for the day I face down John MacKinder.” He gave her a wink then, and she realized he was just trying to keep her mind off of the dreaded disease and the awful deaths.
After five days the lagging wagons began to catch up with the rest of the train. No one else came down with the disease, much to Marybeth’s great relief, and she offered thanks to God.
But the toll had been devastating—nine children, two women and two men. One couple lost all four children. Devastated, their eyes blank and sunken, they turned their wagon and headed back east. Two men were left alone, losing their wives to the disease; one of those men was left with only three of his five children, the other with one child that had managed to evade the disease. Two women were left with no husbands and four children between them to raise alone in an unfamiliar land. Other men took turns helping drive the women’s wagons for them and looking out for them.
For the next few days, it was common to hear someone sobbing as they walked, even men, whose dreams of settling in Oregon with wife and children were shattered, men who felt guilty for bringing their families west. Everyone teamed up and drew closer, helping those who had lost so much.
The Gentrys rejoined the train with only their eleven-year-old son, Billy. Josh’s wagon was stripped nearly bare, most of the belongings inside it burned. Again the Gentrys had practically nothing but the clothes on their backs, and again they had to accept help from others. There was no longer a cage full of clucking chickens to joke and complain about. The chickens and little Toby, who had loved them, were all gone.
Marybeth and Delores did what they could to comfort Florence, but nothing could be said or done that could relieve the sorrow. Only time could help heal the woman’s grieving h
eart, and Marybeth knew it would never completely heal. She would be forever haunted by the sight of two small graves left behind, never to be visited again, graves that would likely be lost to the elements eventually, made oblivious by time and nature.
Although Josh had spent considerable time with Marybeth, they had had very little time alone. When it looked as though the epidemic was over, Josh went off hunting again, and it was not until the seventh night after cholera first struck that he managed to get Marybeth away alone, taking her hand after supper and insisting she take a walk with him. She was still hesitant to leave Danny, but Josh convinced her she no longer had to worry about him getting the disease.
The nights had begun to get a little cooler, and Marybeth wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. Josh wore his buckskin jacket, and to Marybeth he seemed even more handsome than ever in it. He seemed to fit this land, as if he were born into it, and knew it well. He walked with his arm around her, and she let him. It seemed so natural now. She was not afraid or hesitant when he guided her into the darkness where others couldn’t see them.
“I guess you were right about a mother’s milk,” she told him. “Danny seems to be fine.”
He grinned. “Well, to tell you the truth, that was a lot of hogwash. I just wanted to keep you from worrying so much.”
She turned and faced him in the moonlight. “Josh Rivers! How am I going to know now when to believe you? I have a feeling half those wild stories you told us about Texas aren’t true either!”
He laughed lightly. “Well, they kept you entertained, didn’t they?” He drew her close against him. “Here is one thing that is true, Marybeth MacKinder. There is no doubt left in my mind that I love you.”
She watched his eyes, feeling suddenly weak. “Oh, Josh, it’s so sudden,” she said softly.
“Is it? We’ve both felt drawn to each other from the beginning. I love you, Marybeth, and if we make it to Oregon, I want you to marry me. I want you to promise me you’ll think about it between now and then.”
The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition) Page 88
