Enchanted Heart (19 page)

“I’ll be all right,” she assured them as if she had just tripped and their gawking embarrassed her.

Caid growled at the others, who could not tear themselves away from the awful scene, “Leave her to me!”

When most of the onlookers dispersed, he lifted the bottom of Greta’s skirt just enough to look at her leg. He told Daniel Bader to bring him the saddlebag from his chestnut horse and a board to use as a splint. While the boy was away, Caid ripped the bottom of Greta’s petticoat for temporary bindings. Then, when Daniel returned, Caid took the saddlebag and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for.

He leaned over Greta to inspect her injuries. Her leg had fractured and it had cut a gash in her thigh where it had poked through muscle and skin. But the blood was not spurting out. He was grateful that a vein or artery had not been severed. If that had been the case, Greta would certainly have died in a matter of minutes. But still, blood seemed to leak out of her at a slow yet steady pace. He opened the leather pouch and sprinkled the white powder on the wound.

Marty leaned closer to watch with curiosity. She touched Caid’s arm and asked, “What are you putting on her leg?”

“White oak bark,” Caid told her as he pulled the leather binding on the pouch and placed it back into the saddlebag. He watched the blood inside the wound begin to slow and then it started to trickle out again. Worried that his remedy was not working, he pressed the dressing tighter against her leg.

“What is it for?”

“To stop the bleeding. And it keeps the wound from getting infected.”

“You keep it with you?”

Caid gave her a sideways look before he answered with a slight lie, “I keep it around for nosebleeds.”

“You have nosebleeds?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. Truthfully, he did suffer an occasional bloody nose and he had since he was very young. But he kept the pouch of white oak bark for other wounds as well. Injuries such as bullet wounds, arrow punctures, bear attacks or just plain clumsiness. He decided not to mention this little tidbit of information. Instead, he added, “It’s good for digestive problems when it is mixed with water.”

Fascinated, Marty rose to her feet and stood behind Daniel, gripping his shoulders while he held her hands. She watched from this position while Caid worked what seemed like magic on her sister. Marveling at the way he moved as if Caid had experienced this very situation before, she clutched Daniel’s hands while the young man watched in equal amazement.

The boy, who scrutinized the man’s every move, was mesmerized by Caid’s ability to save the woman with whom Daniel had fallen in love. But, at the same time, he was determined to either keep Marty from fainting at the sight of her sister’s misery or shield her from the gruesome sight of Greta’s injuries.

Grateful for Daniel’s support, Marty leaned against him and stared at Caid’s skillful hands as they labored before the two of them. For the first time in her life, Marty felt helpless and useless and the man-child who stabilized her seemed to become an adult right before her very eyes while the man who owned her heart did all he could to keep it from breaking with the loss of her twin.

When she was satisfied that her sister’s wounds were being treated, Marty climbed inside the wagon and created a soft, comfortable bed for Greta before the broken woman was lifted gingerly into the wagon. The gate was fastened behind Marty after she clambered in with her sister and sat holding her hand. She did not look back at her precious belongings but kept her eyes upon the precious woman who was dying next to her. She looked up as the wagon lurched forward to see Seraphina clinging to Caid’s elbow while he sat in the seat of the wagon and drove it onward, the girl’s frightened little face staring back at her mother.

The family who had lost their own wagon days ago did not seem to fret about leaving most of their belongings behind yet again. Instead, they picked up what they could carry on their backs and trudged beside Marty’s wagon without complaint.

For hours, the wagon train bumped and rolled over boulders and other obstacles until they finally stopped for the night in a ravine just ten miles from the accident. All were too tired to make food so they ate cold biscuits and jerky and drank coffee that they had brewed on the lone campfire. Then everyone went to bed.

Most everyone slept, except for Marty, who stayed beside Greta in the bed of the wagon. Her sister was conscious and thrashing in pain while Marty tried to calm her with soothing words and comforting kisses.

After posting a look-out, Caid went to check on Greta and Marty. He found Marty hovering over her sister, crying silently as Greta finally slept in peace. At first, he thought that Greta had passed away and that Marty’s tears were caused by her grief. His heart fell. To see her slumped in sorrow was too much for him to bear and he climbed quickly into the wagon bed to comfort her.

But when Marty looked up at him, she smiled and whispered, “She’s sleeping.”

He examined the leg that they had bound with cloth and a board from one of the wagons. Although it had been bound tightly, the wound still soaked its bandage with blood. While he changed the bandage and applied more white oak bark powder, Caid sighed and said gravely, “It looks bad. She might lose that leg.”

Marty shook her head and said, “I won’t let them take it. I promised her just a few minutes ago.”

“You can’t make a promise that you know you can’t keep,” he said with a shake of his head. “Besides, it’s at least fifteen more miles of the same rugged land before we can get her to a doctor. I doubt that she will make it that far.”

“Don’t say that!” Marty scoffed, her face filled with fear. “She’ll get there and with both of her legs!”

“You said yourself that she was fragile and weak,” he argued. “How do you think she will accomplish that in her condition?”

“When she is well enough, I will make her do it, like I made her walk from Indianola to New Braunfels,” she said with conviction. “When she wanted to stop and she begged me to leave her behind because she missed Papa and because she was tired and thirsty and hungry, she wanted so desperately to give up and die like all the others had. But I made her get up and walk. One more step, one more day until we finally made it to our new home. And now, I’ll make her live until we make it to our new home again.”

Caid put up both hands to concede that she had won and that he would not argue any further on the subject. This woman, this remarkable woman had made up her mind that she alone would make sure that her sister made it all the way to Fort Concho and his love for her made him realize that her tenacity to undertake that responsibility was enough to make it so. He pursed his lips before he said, “It will be slow going. And it won’t be comfortable for her. The ride in this wagon may even kill her if she has internal injuries.”

“Then we’ll carry her,” Marty said as she cocked her head in defiance at death and its hateful audacity.

“That would take too much time,” he tried to convince her. “She needs attention and soon.”

Caid knew that infection would eventually set in despite the application of white oak bark powder. And for some reason, the bleeding just would not stop. He suggested, “Why don’t I ride back to Fredericksburg and bring back a doctor?”

“We’ve already gone ten more miles toward Fort Concho,” she argued. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to ride ahead there instead?”

“I suppose,” Caid said after much deliberation. “But the others will not want to wait with you. They will want to go on ahead.”

Marty pulled in a deep breath before resigning herself to say, “Leave us here. Take the others to Fort Concho and bring back a doctor.”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said with finality.

“Leave Daniel with us,” she suggested. “We’ll be all right.”

“But, here out in the open like this?” Caid argued. “You’ll be an easy target for Indians out here with this wagon inviting them to attack.”

“We have no choice, Caid,” Marty said, raising her palms to the heavens and refusing to cry about their predicament.

He thought for long moments, contemplating a solution. Then, his head popped up and he said with excitement, “I know where you can hide! There is a cave not far from here that I’ve used to get out of the rain. If I don’t allow the others to stop and rest, I could get the wagons to Fort Concho and be back there with a doctor in a few days. ”

“Then leave us there,” she said.

“You will have to keep changing the bandage and applying the powder the way I just did.”

“I will,” Marty promised with determination in her voice. “How long will you be gone?”

“I figure two or three days to get the wagons to Fort Concho, a day to get the families settled and then a day and a half to get back if I keep the horses at a gallop.”

“Do you think you can find a doctor to come back with you?” Marty asked with a worried expression on her face.

“I hope so,” Caid replied as if he feared that he would come back alone with no help for Greta.

Marty touched his arm and reassured, “We’ll be here waiting for you. I mean, at the cave.”

“You know that I am not happy about leaving you,” he said with concern in his eyes.

“And you know that I won’t leave my sister,” she said with conviction in hers.

Caid nodded and leaned over Greta’s body to kiss the woman that he loved more than life itself. Leaving her would mean leaving his heart behind and if something happened to her, his life would have no meaning. But, he knew in his heart, that she would never leave her sister, that she was determined to stay with the dying woman as if her own life depended on it. And yet, his life depended upon her love to survive and if she perished, so too, would he.

Such is love, he thought as he left Marty to prepare Greta for the morning’s walk up the mountain. Love is meaningless without the enduring reciprocation that it requires to sustain it. How cruel Fate could be, he thought bitterly, in Her endless procession to twist around the lives of those who trust Her while still giving them hope that all will turn out for the best.

Chapter Twenty-One

The next morning, Caid and Daniel Bader carried Greta on a litter up the side of the mountain. Daniel’s painful limp was apparent yet he pushed himself forward while sweat soaked his cotton shirt despite the cool breeze. Caid offered several times to stop and rest but the boy would not accept the gesture. He would have plenty of time to rest, he told Caid, when they were settled in the cave.

Daniel’s mother had not been pleased when her son had quickly volunteered to help Caid carry Greta and then to stay with the women after Caid left them. But she had relented after Mr. Bader had touched her arm firmly and had whispered a warning to her under his breath. She had hugged her son as if she’d been worried that she would never see him again. Then, she had watched him limp away helping to carry the injured woman up the side of a mountain.

Wrapped in Mama’s quilt and flanked on either side of her body with rifles, Greta slept the entire way up the steep mountain. Marty and Seraphina followed behind. Sera Dear carried Caid’s pouch of medical supplies and a bed sheet filled with extra bandages, which were made from clean sheets that had been ripped into strips by the other ladies. Marty carried their provisions, which she had tucked into a burlap bag. Along with food and other essentials, she had added a change of clothes for herself, Greta and for Seraphina. In a last-minute decision, she’d stuffed Gunnar’s stack of letters into the bag.

It took almost an hour of back-breaking, foot-slipping and stumbling effort to reach the plateau and then to find the cave that was hidden in a clump of mesquite and tripogon. The men laid the litter on the ground and Marty dropped the bags of provisions that should have been enough for the three adults and Seraphina to survive on while Caid took the train onward and brought back a doctor. Sera Dear handed what she had carried to Caid, who dropped them on the ground next to the rest of the supplies.

After her eyes became accustomed to the darkness of the cave, Marty surveyed the surroundings. The ceiling was tall enough for Caid and Daniel to stand erect but it tapered off until it formed the low walls that joined the earth below. The entire room had a dirt floor except for a few large rocks that had been placed around a shallow pit where the charred remains of a fire poked through the sand. Near the back wall was a soft mound of dirt where she decided to put Greta’s bed. It was apparent to her that someone besides Caid had used this cave as a shelter before. She hoped that the former inhabitants would not return any time soon.

Putting that thought aside, Marty set about making a comfortable pallet for her sister while Seraphina hovered over her mother and quietly cried. Instinctively, she wanted to take her niece into her arms but Greta opened her eyes to see her daughter kneeling above her so Marty turned back to her work.

“Are you crying, my angel?” Greta asked with sadness in her heart that Seraphina feared for her mother’s life.

“I’m not crying, Mama,” the girl said while moving her head from side to side. She thought about correcting her mother and insisting that she use the nickname that Mr. McAllister had given her. Then, she changed her mind and added as she rubbed her eyes with her fists, “It’s dusty in here.”

“That’s my big girl,” Greta replied. She blinked away the tears that came to her own eyes and announced, “You are so brave.”

She turned her head around to find her sister. She stifled the groan that came without warning when she moved a part of her body that protested against the pain.