“I thought of it myself. I helped see him off. His father gave him a new repeating rifle. It is possible the Indians got hold of it. If so, John MacKinder is dead.”
She closed her eyes and bent her head down, kissing Josh’s forehead. “I would rather he lived if his death has been the cause of this.”
“I think I got most of the bleeding stopped,” Cap said then, his whole body drenched in sweat. “I ain’t never seen anything like this.” He sighed. “That bullet ripped through a lot of vital organs.” He looked at Marybeth. “I don’t like to take away your hope, honey, but…” He swallowed.
“He won’t die. He can’t! He promised me we’d make it to Oregon.”
Her throat ached fiercely, and she wondered how long she could keep going without losing her mind. Danny. She had to stay sane for Danny’s sake.
“Marybeth, a wound like this, a man would have trouble makin’ it even with the best of care; but…hell, I patched him up like a woman tryin’ to make an old ripped-up quilt useful again. It can’t hardly be done. Only God knows if I sewed up the right spots. And it’s almost a sure bet there’s gonna be infection.”
“He’ll live,” she said firmly. “I know he’ll live.”
Cap glanced at Devon, seeing the doubt in the scout’s eyes. Devon too had realized how bad the wound was. Cap sighed again. “Let’s get him sewed up.” He removed some of the gauze he had packed inside the wound. “Looks like I got most of the bleedin’ stopped.”
“I think there could be another problem even if he lives,” Aaron said then. He met Marybeth’s eyes. “When he was in so much pain and thrashing about with his arms, I held his legs because I thought he would kick them around. But he was not really moving them at all. A man in that much pain, does it not seem likely he would have moved his legs also?”
Marybeth felt the horror sinking even deeper.
“You think they’re paralyzed?” Cap asked.
“The bullet went into his back, not far from the spine.”
Marybeth lowered her head again, pressing her cheek against Josh’s. Cap just shook his head and began sewing Josh up. “I’ve done all I can do inside,” he announced finally. “I’d better see what’s goin’ on outside.” He reached over and touched Marybeth’s shoulder. “You know we have to keep goin’, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
“Best thing we can do is get the hell out of here and higher into the mountains. The Crow won’t bother with us up there. If we can make decent time, we’ll be at Fort Hall in about four days. If Josh is still alive when we get there, we’ll decide then what to do.”
She raised her eyes to meet his. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he’ll be lucky to make it that far. If he does, he’d be best to be left there to rest. A man in this condition can’t hope to make it through what’s ahead after that. There’s cliffs that we have to lower wagons over with ropes. He couldn’t even stay inside for somethin’ like that, and he sure couldn’t be moved around. There just ain’t no way he can hope to survive unless he can stay in on place and not be moved. There are men at the fort who would look after him.”
“I’ll do it myself,” she said, sitting straighter. “He’ll need me.”
Cap looked at Devon, and the Indian turned his eyes to Marybeth. “It is no place for a woman and a baby to spend the winter.”
“I don’t care! I’ll not leave him!”
Cap put a hand on Devon’s arm, warning him not to say anything more for the moment. “We’ll talk about it when we get there. You just stay calm for now, Marybeth, while I get him sewed up and bandaged.”
She stroked Josh’s forehead and temples while Cap pulled the skin back together over Josh’s right side as best he could. “Untie his wrists and roll him up real gentle,” the man told Devon. The Indian obeyed, and Josh let out a heart-wrenching moan when he moved. “This here entrance wound is small. I’ll give it a couple of stitches and we’ll wrap him up.”
For the next few minutes there was no talking. Marybeth argued with herself about staying with Josh at Fort Hall. She didn’t care what Devon or anyone else said, she was not going to leave her husband. If he lived, he would need her, especially if he really was paralyzed. And if he died, she would not let him die all alone.
Cap finished, and Devon retied Josh’s wrists. “You stay here with Josh, and let me know if he comes around and starts rarin’ up again,” Cap told Marybeth.
She nodded, and the men climbed out of the wagon, leaving her alone with Josh. She looked down at him, running her fingers through his thick, sandy hair; over his now-closed eyes that only hours earlier had sparkled with love for her, over the strong lines of his handsome face, the finely etched lips; and over the strong shoulders and arms. So much man he was to be lying so near death. It didn’t seem possible, yet here he was, lying unconscious in her lap.
The tears came then, tears that had had to be withheld because she was needed. Now it seemed there was nothing else to do but vent her terrible grief and somehow find the faith to pray and believe God would answer those prayers. At the moment, it seemed God was surely against her. She would rather have never met Joshua Rivers and still be living in hell with the MacKinders, than to find such happiness and lose it so quickly. Her sobs welled up in great waves of sorrow. She could not fathom never again being held by Josh, not seeing his warm smile, or hearing his teasing laughter; even if he lived, she could not picture her virile husband unable to walk.
“Marybeth?” Delores climbed into the wagon, moving carefully around Josh to touch Marybeth’s shoulder.
“What am I going to do, Delores? Cap…doesn’t think he’ll live at all, and if he does, he might be crippled.”
Delores’s eyes filled. “I don’t know what to tell you, Marybeth. But you always seemed to have so much faith. You are very strong, like Josh always said. Now you have to be strong for him, like he has been for you. Why don’t you find those beads you pray over, and we’ll pray together.”
Marybeth raised up and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t know…if I can pray any more.”
“You can. Praying will help you, too.”
Marybeth looked at her, dark circles showing under her eyes. “If I have to bury him, I won’t want to live myself,” she told Delores.
Delores grasped her hand. “You have Danny to think about—and you said you were carrying Josh’s child. Marybeth, if Josh dies, you still have his life, inside of you. You’ll have a part of him to treasure forever. How do you think he would feel if you ended your life and ended his only hope of leaving a part of himself behind? If you take your life, you leave Danny an orphan, taken in and raised by MacKinders; and you’d also be taking the life of Josh Rivers’ baby. I don’t think you really want either one of those things to happen. You’re just talking out of grief.”
Marybeth closed her eyes. “It isn’t fair,” she wept.
“There are a lot of things in life that are unfair—like Bess losing her mother that way; Florence losing two children. Somehow people manage to go on. You have lots of friends now, people who will help you.” She squeezed her hand. “Let’s pray, Marybeth.”
With shaking hands Marybeth reached for her rosary, which hung inside the wagon. She took it down and stared at it, grasping it tightly, hanging her head. Delores began praying, and slowly Marybeth moved the beads through her fingers, praying over them in a faint whisper. She leaned down and kissed Josh’s cheek.
“Mary…beth,” Josh groaned.
Her tears came again at the misery she sensed in the way he spoke her name, but she thanked God that somewhere in his subconscious he was with her.
Enough of Bill Stone’s wagon was saved that he could keep going, although there was no canvas left. Florence and Sam took in the orphaned Billings children, and the wagon train headed into the mountains, leaving behind the graves of Fred and Anna Mae Billings, a single man named Walt Madden, and Trapper. Out of the original twenty-six men, seventeen were left, altho
ugh one of them, Josh Rivers, would be no help to the others. Thirteen of nineteen women were left, and only nineteen of twenty-eight children. The Billings wagon, burned too badly to be used, was abandoned.
The wagon train snaked slowly up the side of a mountain, stopping frequently so that the animals could rest. The combination of constant climbing and less oxygen made the animals weary easily, and some collapsed. Some of those were either left behind or shot.
This stage of the journey was one of terror for most of the farmers along, who were accustomed to wide, flat land. Now they were on a narrow road that followed the side of a mountain, around and around, twisting and winding upward, with places barely wide enough for animals and wagons to pass over. Every time a wagon hit a rut, hearts tightened. Children were told to be very quiet. There could be no loud noises around the animals, since to have a team panic would mean certain disaster. No one relished the thought of watching their wagon tumble hundreds or thousands of feet over the cliff that loomed beside them as they climbed.
Most walked, afraid to stay in the wagons in case of just such a disaster, and one single man, the last of a party of three men, suddenly clutched his chest and collapsed from a heart attack. Since there was no way to bury him along the narrow road, valuables were taken from his wagon and divided up among the rest of the travelers, the man’s oxen unhitched; the body was placed inside the wagon, and men turned the front wheels and pushed it over the edge. The chilling crashing sounds that went on for several minutes left everyone filled with silent terror.
There were now fifteen wagons left, sixteen men. Cap himself herded the dead man’s team of oxen along in the same spot his wagon had occupied, since at that point the road was too narrow to move the animals out around the other wagons or to break them up and divide them among those who needed extra oxen.
Marybeth remained inside her wagon in spite of the danger. Josh could not be moved, and she would not leave him. Danny was brought to her for feedings, then taken away again because he was crawling and too lively to be around Josh. His crying every time he was taken away from his mother and his “Zosh” tore at Marybeth’s heart. She wanted to be with her baby. But she knew that Florence and Delores would take good care of him, and the Billings children, who desperately needed the diversion, did a good job of entertaining Danny and making the baby forget he wanted his mother.
Marybeth’s terror of the dangerous road was overshadowed by her terror of Josh’s dying. She could only watch in horror as he went through spells of violent shaking and sweating, and frequent vomiting, mostly blood. Never had she felt so helpless and desperate. She comforted him as best she could, bathing his face and neck with a cool cloth, talking to him soothingly in the rare moments when he seemed to be conscious enough to realize she was there.
After two full days of climbing they reached a summit, where they camped and rested for another full day. Cap came to check on Josh, and together with Marybeth and Devon, they changed the bloody, pussy bandages, none of them expressing their most dreaded suspicion, that already infection was setting in—infection in an area where nothing could help but prayer. If it were an arm or a leg, a limb could be amputated. Horrible as the thought was, it at least could save Josh’s life. But the only hope for infection deep inside his middle was Josh’s own strength and determination. His pants and longjohns had been removed, and towels were wrapped around him diaper fashion for elimination.
Every time they moved him even slightly, it brought an agonizing groan that made Marybeth ache with pity for him.
“His fever is rising, Cap,” she told the man.
“Keep his head cool. That’s the most important thing. If he’s worse by the time we get to the bottom of this mountain in a couple of days, I’ll have to cut him and drain out the infection I suspect is buildin’ around the wound. Trouble is, it’s gonna spread all through him even if I manage to get some of it out, and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it. I’m sorry, Marybeth.” He frowned when she met his eyes. “You been gettin’ any sleep?”
“Just a few minutes at a time.”
“Well, you look it. You get some rest, young lady, or you’ll be no use to him at all—or to your baby. And what about the one you’re carryin’? You’re gonna lose it if you keep this up. Is that what you want? That baby could be all you have of Josh if he doesn’t live.”
She closed her eyes and hung her head, stroking Josh’s hair. “I can’t leave him, Cap.”
“Yes, you can. There are others who would be willing to help out. Here.” He held out a bottle of whiskey. “Drink some of this.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Drink it! That’s an order. You swallow some of this and you get out of this wagon for a while. I’ll have some of the other women take these soiled bedclothes and get some fresh ones under Josh. You wash up and change your own clothes and get some sleep in the Svensson or the Gentry wagon.”
“Cap, I don’t want to leave him.”
“You’ve got no choice. Devon, you take her out of here. I’ll stay with him till somebody else comes.”
Devon nodded. “Get some clothes.”
“Drink that whiskey first. Come on, a couple swallows,” Cap told her.
Marybeth took the bottle and curled her nose at the smell. She tipped the bottle and swallowed, then felt her insides catch fire. She gasped and coughed. “How do you…men…drink this!”
Cap grinned. “You get used to it. Now you go get something in your stomach. I won’t let you back in this wagon come mornin’ if you don’t go eat and get some rest. I mean it.”
Marybeth knew he was serious. She leaned down and kissed Josh’s forehead, telling him she would be back soon, wondering if he even heard. She looked at Cap, her eyes tearing. “If he’s…going to die, I hope it will be quickly, Cap. I can’t stand watching him suffer so.”
“He’s a strong man, and he’s got you to live for. Go on now. Do like I said.”
She reluctantly climbed out of the wagon, feeling lightheaded from lack of food and her first taste of whiskey. The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a kind of fog. She ate a little, washed and changed, remembered lying down on someone’s feather mattress. When she awoke, dawn was breaking and women were preparing breakfasts. Panic immediately filled Marybeth’s heart. She climbed out of the Gentry wagon and hurried over to her own, paying no attention to Delores, who called out to her to come and eat some breakfast. What if Josh had died during the night, and she was not with him!
She climbed up onto the seat of the wagon and looked inside. Bess Peters looked up at her, the woman’s eyes still dark and lifeless from her own lingering sorrow over her mother. “I told Cap I thought it would help my own grief if I could help nurse your husband for a while,” the woman told her. “Delores, she’s pregnant and not feeling so good lately. And Florence is busy with the Billings children and taking care of Danny.”
Marybeth moved inside. “Thank you, Bess. How is he?”
“About the same. Very feverish.” She touched Marybeth’s arm. “I’m so sorry for you, Marybeth. You had such a short time together, and he made you so happy. Everyone could see how much in love you both were.” She looked down at Josh, bathing his face with a cool cloth. “He spoke your name a couple of times. I answered for you. I figured he probably wouldn’t know the difference, and if he thought you were with him, it would help.” She shook her head. “It’s such a shame. Such a vital, handsome man he was.”
Marybeth sat down beside the woman, noticing Josh seemed to be looking thinner. His face was so pale he already looked dead, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he dies, Bess.”
“You’ll go on. We all go on.” She put the cloth back in a bucket of water and met Marybeth’s eyes. “My husband told me about Josh’s offer to take the music box. The trouble is, we couldn’t wait until we reached Fort Hall. That climb was much too taxing. And with Josh lying in your wagon, we couldn’t give you the added weight, let alo
ne make room for the box. We left it behind.” The woman’s eyes began to tear. “I…had Al set it high against the cliff, where it wouldn’t be noticed or stolen.”
Marybeth grasped her hands. “I’m so sorry, Bess. We would have gladly taken it.”
“I know,” the woman choked out. “I just keep telling myself Mother would have understood, and all I really need is her memory. And I have some of her other…personal belongings left.”
Their eyes held, both feeling the pain of realizing how near death always hovered. They embraced and wept, and Bess finally pulled away and left. Marybeth leaned down and kissed Josh’s cheek.
“Please don’t die, Josh,” she cried. “Please, please hang on for me!” She grasped one of his hands, and to her surprise, she felt him lightly squeeze it. The tiny movement brought unspeakable joy to her heart.
Another day was spent chopping down trees and rigging them to the underside of the wagons, creating a drag that would help the animals hold back the weight of the wagons as they headed down the steep winding road that would take them into flatter land and on to Fort Hall. Josh had not shown any more recognition of Marybeth’s presence, other than to groan her name over and over while he lay in a pitched fever. When she answered him, he continued to groan her name, seemingly unaware she had spoken to him.
Delores brought Danny to her for another feeding, and Marybeth clung lovingly to her son, realizing it was possible they would again be alone against the world. She thanked God for the life in her womb, knowing that if something happened to Josh, she would indeed want to stay alive not only for Danny, but to bear Josh’s son or daughter. But to think of either child growing up without Josh’s love and influence, of never realizing their dream of a ranch in Oregon and lots of children, brought agony to her heart. She longed and needed to be held by Josh, but those arms might never hold her again.
She was nearly through feeding Danny when to her surprise, Ella MacKinder climbed up onto the wagon seat. Their eyes held for a moment, and Marybeth clung to Danny warily.
The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition) Page 103
