Today he and Mark had risen at dawn and paused only for lunch. It was now mid-afternoon, that time when the woods grew quiet, as if its inhabitants were napping, waiting for darkness. It was also a time when the slanting sun rays struck Tanner straight in the eyes. He squinted against the glare and drove the ax blade into the tree, shooting chunks of bark and pitchy wood into the brush below. He made the last cut on the big fir, then tossed the ax off the platform. He waited.
The tree didn’t fall.
Shielding his eyes, Tanner stared upward to where the tops of the lofty branches brushed the sunlit sky. Although he couldn’t see for certain because the timber was so thick, he thought one of the other trees must be holding it. His heart pounding, he extended his hands and pushed against the trunk, hoping it wouldn’t ricochet back and trap him on the springboard. It didn’t move.
A gust of wind caught in the lofty tops and whipped the upper branches. The tree swayed, tilted, swung on its axis. But it still didn’t fall.
Tanner held his breath and waited. On a bet, he’d once driven stakes into the ground with his falling trees. He’d been that accurate in his cutting. But this one was different. He knew the fir would fall—eventually. What he didn’t know was which way it would go.
“Tanner, I’m done skinning this one. You want me to do something else, or fix supper?”
Mark. Tanner swung his gaze from the tree to his brother. Ordinarily where Mark was standing would have been safe, but not now. Not with this tree. It could very easily fall right on top of him. “Mark, get out of here!”
Another gust of wind lashed the branches into a violent frenzy. The tree swayed, sighed.
Mark froze, staring at the treetop as if mesmerized by the tree’s motions.
“Run!” Tanner yelled.
Coming to his senses, Mark whirled.
Tanner jumped from the springboard and raced after him.
With an agonized groan, the giant fir twisted free. It plunged to earth.
Tanner felt a rush of air, heard the cracking of wood. Stinging, needle-tipped branches whipped his back, his neck, his face. Then a crushing blow drove him to ground. Wind left his lungs as a heavy weight slammed down on him. A bone snapped. Pain shot up his leg.
The ground vibrated beneath him as the giant settled over and around him. Wood chips, dust and debris sifted to earth, pelting his body, filling his nostrils and his eyes.
Then silence.
Tanner fought the dizzying pain and tried to raise his head. “Mark?” He prayed his brother had made it free.
“I’m all right,” Mark called back. “If I can get loose from this mess. How about you?”
Tanner couldn’t answer. A wave of red-rimmed agony carried him into darkness.
* * *
“Tanner?” Mark untangled himself from the last of the branches. He ran along the length of the tree. His gaze searched frantically. Then he saw his brother under the dense foliage, pinned to the ground by a heavy limb. “Tanner!”
Tanner didn’t answer. Didn’t move.
“Tanner!” Mark tore through the sharp-needled limbs. Yanked a branch aside. He bent and felt Tanner’s neck for a pulse. A faint heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His own heart began to beat again. He was alive. But how badly hurt?
Tanner wasn’t bleeding from the mouth or ears, but the limb lying across his back might have broken some ribs. Heaven only knew what else might be wrong. He had to free him before he could tell.
He located the ax, then returning to Tanner’s side, he quickly removed the smaller limbs. Only when he was certain he could cut the big branch without dealing his brother even more injury did he sever it from the tree and pull it aside.
Now that Tanner was uncovered, Mark noticed the unnatural angle of his right leg. Broken for sure.
He took out his pocket knife and slit Tanner’s pant leg, then carefully removed his boot. The leg was already swollen and discolored. Even though the bone hadn’t punctured the skin, it was still a bad break. Mark pulled Tanner into the open, then he straightened the leg and pulled the bone until he felt it snap into place. He splinted it between two sticks. Realizing Tanner would be unable to ride, he rigged a travois of two stout branches and ropes, then covered it with a bedroll. He tied the contraption behind the calmest of the mules. Grateful that Tanner was still unconscious, he pulled him onto the travois and anchored him into place.
Mark saddled the gelding, then freed it and the other mule. A swat on the rump sent the animals running down the trail. He hoped that when they reached home, somebody would come looking. Then Mark would send him for the doctor.
Mark lit the lantern, holding it in front of him so he could see the trail. Saying a silent prayer for his brother, he took hold of the second mule’s harness and led it toward home. The travois jolted over a tree root. Tanner groaned.
“Hang on, bud.” Mark wished he had something to give him for the pain, but he didn’t. Since Tanner wasn’t a drinking man, there was seldom any whisky in the house.
The path was uneven, full of ruts and rocks. He tried to avoid the worst of them, but it was going to be a long, tortuous journey.
Tanner drifted in and out of consciousness, and his skin had taken on a grayish tinge that made Mark uneasy. Anxious to get his brother home, Mark took advantage of the lapses into unconsciousness to make up for lost time.
It was only when they were some distance down the trail, and the darkness had closed in around them, that Mark remembered the rifle he had left in camp. Thinking of the bear that Tanner had encountered before, he stared into the shadows and hoped they wouldn’t come across anything he couldn’t scare off with a stick. He breathed a sigh of relief when they broke through the dense brush and into the meadow.
Hearing hoofbeats, he raised his head and waved the lantern. When the rider grew nearer, he saw it was Luke on the gelding.
“What’s wrong?” Pulling the horse up, Luke peered at the stretcher. “Tanner?”
“He’s got a broken leg, and no telling what else. Get the doctor.”
“I’m gone.” Luke whipped up the horse and headed for the pass.
* * *
Matt didn’t know if Tanner had for some reason turned the animals loose, or if they had broken their ropes and run away. A sense of foreboding made him hope nothing was wrong. A sense of urgency had made him send Luke out to check. After watching Luke race off into the night, Matt and John stood silently on the front porch and waited.
A bobbing light appeared on the edge of the meadow. It stopped a moment, apparently to greet Luke, then came on toward them. Mark or Tanner. Maybe both.
When the light grew nearer, Matt could make out Mark leading the mule. Tanner must have sent him home. Matt let out a sigh of relief, until he realized that Luke wasn’t returning with him. “Everything all right?” he called out.
“Accident. Tanner’s hurt.”
“Stay here,” Matt told John. Fearing the worst, he ran down the steps. “How bad...” Then he saw the travois, and the unconscious man strapped to it. Everything in him shouted denial. It couldn’t be. Tanner had been indestructible. Tanner had never even gotten sick. Now to see him lying there helpless....
Matt met Mark’s solemn gaze. Fear knotted his middle.
“Is he d-dead?” John whispered.
Matt turned toward the doorway. Even in the dim light he could see that the child’s face had drained of color; his body shook with silent, racking sobs.
Fluffy frantically licked the little boy’s hand.
“H-he’s d-dead, isn’t he?” John asked again.
“No, he’s not dead. And he’s not going to die,” Matt said, unable to bear such a thought.
“He’ll be fine. We’re going to take good care of him,” Mark said reassuringly. “He does have a broken leg.” He moved closer. “And no telling what else,” he added to Matt under his breath.
“How serious is it?” Matt asked, almost afraid to voice the question. As he stared at the litte
r, another accident flashed through his mind. That time his father had died. It couldn’t be happening again. He swallowed against the pain.
“I did the best I could, but he’s in a bad way,” Mark said, his voice husky. “Luke’s gone for the doctor. Until he gets here, the best thing we can do is to make Tanner comfortable—then we just have to wait and pray.”
“Hold the light, John, so we can get him inside,” Matt instructed. “Then go turn down his bed.”
Mark cut the tracings and took one side of the frame; Matt took the other. They carefully carried Tanner up the steps and into the house.
John ran ahead of them to prepare the bed, then, eyes wide, he waited while they placed Tanner on top of the covers. “He’s awfully d-dirty,” the boy said solemnly.
“Suppose we could wash him up some without hurting him?” Mark asked. “That way the doctor could see what he was examining.”
“Good idea. Probably make Tanner feel better, too.” Matt hurried to the kitchen and returned with a pan of warm water. Carefully, they removed Tanner’s clothing and began to sponge the dirt and tree sap from his body. He untied the shirt Mark had tied around Tanner’s middle and traced the discolored ribs with his fingers.
Tanner groaned then opened his eyes. “I see I made it home.” He grimaced, his face contorting with pain. “Where’s Mark?”
“Right here.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. You’d be fine too, if I hadn’t stood there like a stump.” A tear made a mud trail down Mark’s dirt caked face. “Damn, I’m sorry, Tanner.” He turned away and wiped his eyes.
“Don’t go beating yourself up, boy,” he said with obvious effort. “I didn’t know which way to run, either. Guess we both picked the wrong direction.” Tanner glanced down at his leg. “Broken?”
“Yeah. I tried to set it. That limb whacked your ribs pretty good, too. Couple broke, maybe more. They’re so bruised it’s hard to tell.”
“Luke’s gone for the doctor,” Matt said. “Until he gets here can we do anything to help you feel better?”
“Getting the dirt off helps a heap.” Tanner tried a smile but didn’t quite make it. His eyes shifted to John, who stood silently by the bedside. “Hi, sprout.” He let out a jagged breath. “Think I’ll take a nap.” He closed his eyes.
Matt knew it was no nap. Tanner had lapsed into unconsciousness, and he hadn’t wanted John to know. His gaze shot to Mark.
“Probably better this way.” Taking advantage of his brother’s comatose state, he finished washing Tanner’s chest, then wrapped his ribs with strips from an old sheet and tied the bandage in place.
“What if he d-don’t get b-better?” John asked, his eyes wide and stricken.
“He’ll be fine.” Mark walked over and looped his arm around the little boy’s shoulder. “Hey, Johnny, think you can rustle me up some grub while I put the mule away?”
“Got some b-beans I could heat,” the boy said eagerly.
Matt waited until they had left the room, then he turned his attention back to his older brother. He stripped off Tanner’s pants and examined the splinted leg. From what he could tell, Mark had done a good job. He wouldn’t have expected anything less.
Ever since he could remember, Mark had dragged home one hurt critter after another. He’d been good at setting bones, healing wounds. He seemed to have a gift for it. Matt was grateful that Mark had been with Tanner when the accident happened, instead of himself. While he was good at cooking and other things, Matt had never been good at doctoring.
Matt finished bathing Tanner and covered him with a blanket. Then, not knowing what else to do, he pulled up a chair and sat down to wait.
* * *
Luke sent the gelding down the treacherous grade at a pace that threatened both their necks. When he reached the outskirts of town, he whipped the lathered horse into a gallop. Sliding the animal to a halt in front of a small white house, he jumped from the saddle.
Lights were on. That meant the doctor was home.
Luke crossed the yard in two leaps, then raised his fist and pounded on the door. “Doc. Doc Thomas.”
“Hold your horses,” a gruff voice yelled from inside. The silver-haired physician opened the door. “Wha— Luke?
“It’s Tanner,” Luke gasped out. “He’s hurt. Tree fell on him. Broken leg and... I don’t know what else.”
Doc’s gaze slid past the wide-eyed boy to the lathered horse. “That animal is done in. Take him to the livery and have them saddle a couple of fresh mounts. I’ll finish with this patient and be ready by the time you get back.”
Frowning, the doctor returned to his office and began stuffing medical supplies into his satchel.
“What’s up?” Chauncey asked from his seat in the corner.
The doctor told him about Tanner.
“This old carbuncle can wait,” the grizzled miner muttered. “It ain’t the first time I’ve had one.”
Doc took a tin from a shelf and dumped some ground-up leaves into a paper. “Make a poultice out of this. It won’t be as quick as lancing it, but it should bring the boil to a head and make it drain.”
“Thank ye.” Chauncey took the paper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “Wish Miss Kate was here.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” The doctor paused. “If Tanner ever needed that woman, he needs her now.”
The crusty old miner wrinkled his face. “I bet if she knew, she’d come a-runnin’.”
“Well, since she’s halfway to Portland, there’s little chance of that.”
“Too bad.” The old miner scowled. “I’d best get out of your way, Doc. If I can help out, let me know.” Still muttering to himself, Chauncey left the house.
Luke strode in immediately after. “Horses are outside.”
“Let’s go, then.” The doctor picked up his black medical bag plus another satchel containing surgical knives, laudanum, splints and bandages, then he went back into the bedroom and stuck in a change of clothing. He didn’t know how bad Tanner was hurt. He thought it best to be prepared.
After a final look around to see if there was anything he might have forgotten, he extinguished the lights and closed the door.
Luke tied the bags behind the saddles, then held the bridle while the doctor climbed onto the prancing horse.
Doc lifted the reins, then kicked the horse into a gallop and followed Luke out of town.
When they passed the pie shop, he thought of Tanner and Kate. The two could make a go of it. If they weren’t so blamed stubborn. In his opinion they were made for each other. Even if they couldn’t see it, they needed each other.
Now more than ever.
As they rode past the cemetery, the rows of markers gleamed silver in the pale moonlight. The doctor thought of his many friends, his family, and his patients who had died in the smallpox epidemic. All now rested on the hillside.
Luke’s urgency told him that Tanner was seriously hurt. What if Tanner didn’t make it?
What would happen to those boys?
Damn it, Kate. Why did you pick now to run away?
Chapter 26
The Concord Stage had been delayed in the Siskiyou Mountains because of a fractured wheelspoke. As a result, the coach, scheduled to leave Jacksonville at six that morning, hadn’t departed until early afternoon.
Kate had been eager to be on her way, but as the familiar landmarks rolled by and she realized she could be seeing them for the very last time, doubts began to enter her mind.
Once on the road, sitting for hours in the swaying stage had given her time to think, time to reflect on her actions. Had she been unfair to Tanner? Had she expected too much? She didn’t know. The only thing she was certain of was the feeling that her heart had been ripped out by the roots.
The doctor had asked her to wait, to give Tanner a chance to finish the logging contract, then see what would happen. But she had let pride get in her way, certain that if Tanner had loved her, he would stop her fr
om leaving.
He hadn’t. He hadn’t even come to say goodbye.
Of course, she hadn’t told Mark exactly when she would be leaving. She hadn’t known herself until the night she had bought the ticket. If Tanner had been aware of her departure date, would that have made a difference? Would he have been there then?
Whether he would have come or not, she’d never know. She’d made her choices, and she would live with them. It was time to look forward, not back.
The driver cracked the whip and the stage leaned into the upcoming curve. A range of evergreen-clad mountains loomed ahead. Behind their snow-tipped crests, clouds scudded frantically across the sky, telling her a storm was in the offing. Alongside the road, trees tossed in the frenzied lashing of the wind.
Inside the stage, Kate gripped the leather strap to keep her balance and tucked a woolen lap robe around her, grateful for its additional warmth. But as she settled back into her seat, she couldn’t stop her thoughts from returning to the night she and Tanner had spent together. She closed her eyes, remembering the ecstasy, the passion. The feel of his lips, the strength of his arms, and the moment when he’d claimed her. Then later, when he’d awakened and taken her again.
Now, it seemed even more dreamlike than it had then. And like a dream it had vanished in the light of day.
She heaved a wistful sigh; catching herself, she opened her eyes, glad that she was alone in the coach. How could Tanner make her feel those things, behave that way himself, if he didn’t care? She remembered the tenderness of his touch, the look of wonder on his face. Maybe he did love her and simply wasn’t able to tell her. Some men were like that, saying with action what they couldn’t put into words.
Their joining had been fierce, joyous, combining hearts and souls in that one moment when they had truly become one. If she had become pregnant, would she have still been so determined to be on her way? Somehow she doubted if she would have had any say in the matter. Family was everything to Tanner. She knew that from seeing him with his brothers. A child— his child— would be no different. He wouldn’t have allowed her to leave. He would have made her stay, married her. And because she loved him, she wouldn’t have had the strength to resist. Then, for the rest of her life, she would be forced to live with the knowledge that Tanner had married her simply because of the baby. She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow that to happen. Was she selfish to want him to love her for herself?
Courting Kate Page 27
