Hannah Alexander (5 page)

“Believe me, Joseph, I know how to avoid illness. I’ve done well for ten years. This may be all for nothing, but the moment I see signs of illness I’ll be able to start treatment immediately. We have seven who were in the water.” She stopped and turned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You were telling me the truth earlier about not swallowing the water? You didn’t inhale any, obviously, or you’d have choked.”

“I was telling you the truth. I’d like for you to make a drawing for me of the track you’ve been searching for. I want to show the adults so all can be on the lookout for it, just in case.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think you’ll start a panic?”

“These people know how dangerous this trip could be. They don’t panic easily.”

“True.” She continued ahead of him and stepped from the shadows of the forest into the churned mud of the trail. The dried mud had begun to cake and fall in clods from her dress. Her hair had all but fallen from its binding, and he could do nothing but stare at her; to him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and always would be.

“I need to have Heidi collect some rabbit-ear leaves to go with the onion compress,” she said as she crossed the trail. “I’ll use some of the tea bags we just filled to make a batch of comfrey and chamomile tea for everyone, including you.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’re going to be sore if we don’t get those ribs taken care of, and that won’t help when you’re on horseback.”

He caught up with her to steady her in case she slipped. “I’ll do whatever you say, Doc. You obviously know what you’re doing.”

Her steps slowed and she looked up at him, her blue eyes glowing with gentle appraisal. “Why, thank you, Captain Rickard.”

Welcoming the warmth in her voice and eyes, he took her arm. “I don’t recall Matthew using the plants you’ve been utilizing on this trip.”

She shook her head. “As I said, I learned a lot from the Cherokee back East.”

“Did that ever cause discord between you and Matthew?” As soon as he asked, Joseph knew he was being too intrusive. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if Victoria’s natural skill and unique intelligence had ever caused her difficulty in her marriage. Most men were too proud to walk in the shadow of a wife with superior talents, and Joseph had to admit to himself that he had a selfish reason for the question.

Joseph’s old friend had never seemed to hold grudges or experience the typical human emotions others grappled with—such as the jealousy Joseph had fought within himself for ten years.

“At first,” Victoria said. “He even tried to order me not to use them on the women who came to me.”

Joseph chuckled. “I’m sure he learned his lesson quickly enough.”

“He did.” She cast him a mischievous grin. “I eventually managed to teach Matthew a few herbal treatments, and once he realized I knew what I was doing, he swallowed his pride and learned all he could from me.”

“And now you’re teaching Heidi.”

“She seems eager to learn.” Victoria slipped on a muddy rock.

Joseph held her firmly. “You’re good with her and the other children.” He paused, judging to see if his next remark might generate an uncomfortable answer. But he needed to know. “I always thought you would make a wonderful mother.”

She tightened her grip on his arm as she continued to walk toward camp. “I would have loved children.”

They reached camp as Joseph suffered shame for pressing her. “I’m sorry, Victoria.”

She released her grip from his and looked up at him. “You’ve done nothing for which to be sorry, and as for children, I wouldn’t have wanted them to endure what I have, to be in danger. Maybe someday....”

“Captain?” Mrs. Reich called to him from a bonfire the men had built. “You think we’re safe here? Maybe we oughta move farther away from the water.”

“We’ll make camp where we are,” Joseph announced for everyone to hear. “If we don’t have any more rain tonight, the water should be low enough for us to make a safe crossing at dawn, but if we do have rain, we’re high enough up that nothing should touch us.” He looked over his shoulder toward Buster and Gray, where some of the ladies were already sharing blankets and utensils, food and clothing with the Johnstons. At least the young men would be mothered on this trip. Not that being mothered would help them grow up and meet the hardships of life head-on.

Victoria glanced up at him over her shoulder. “You don’t expect more rain?”

He shook his head, and for a moment held her gaze and tried to study the thoughts taking place behind those deep blue eyes. After a few seconds her eyelids fluttered and the shadow of dread lined her face. His stomach grew taut with tension.

He’d seen it twice before—ten years ago, when he received the missive from his family to return to the plantation where his father struggled for his life. He’d also seen that look a month ago in St. Louis when he stepped into Victoria’s office for the first time since he’d left—perhaps as if refining their former relationship might bring still more heartbreak if she were to allow it.

“And now,” she said, “time to prepare that plaster for your ribs.”

Four people met him with questions, and as he answered them, he watched her work. He marveled that the two of them were together in this place after all this time. He made a promise to himself and to God that he would do all he could to keep her safe, no matter what it took, but would that be enough? Would the rogue searching this trail for abolitionists find her? Had he already?

Chapter Five

F
ive days later, the killer struck. It wasn’t Broderick Thames who destroyed two of their own but the cholera Victoria and the others had fought hard to prevent. She stood in a valley near Shoal Creek, observing the hideous handiwork of the illness that had stalked them to this place. Perhaps the measures she’d taken had only delayed it for a day or two; typically, cholera started its damage within a day. No amount of chamomile tea, mashed black walnut hulls or yarrow root had made any difference for Luella and Claude Ladue in the end. Though the illness had not spread, those two dear people had died.

Victoria’s body jerked every time Joseph’s shovel tossed dirt onto Luella’s grave. Watching his steady movements as he handled the shovel, she sought a sense of comfort despite the events this afternoon. There would be time later for self-admonition. For now, she wanted to escape the pain of the moment and settle on the image of the man so familiar to her. She needed a break from this awful sense of failure and loss. And so she studied him, lost herself in memories, comforted herself by looking at him.

In the ten years that had kept them apart, he’d aged twenty—not in appearance but in maturity—and it looked good on him. It wasn’t so much the evidence of his physical strength that drew her, but his demeanor reflected an inner core of power that she recalled with clarity. The fact that he looked better to her than he ever had was a distraction she welcomed, but at the same time it brought her overwhelming guilt.

Tendrils of Joseph’s straight black hair blew across his tanned forehead at the impetus of a spring breeze. How she appreciated the way his shoulders worked with effortless strength.

She inhaled a silent breath and exhaled deeply. Joseph looked up at her and caught her gaze, his dark eyes shadowed as he paused, barely breathing hard. Along with the powerful build and inner strength came a keen wit. She shivered, though the breeze wasn’t cold. She admired much about him, and her admiration had experienced a recent growth, especially with his tenderness toward her these past days.

But the quality she respected the most was his ability to look at reality head-on. He attacked hardship with all his might and never held back, never waited for someone else to take the lead. He made it clear he was in command of his own heart and mind. How could she not be drawn to such a man?

She nodded to him and then looked at the ground, studying the mud that clung to the hem of her black dress. Heat rose to her face. A widow of seven months did not share long glances with a handsome man while he was burying two of their friends, especially while the only remaining family member grieved in stunned silence, intentionally isolated from the others.

If Victoria wished to continue calling herself a doctor she would need to toe the line of propriety more than any other woman on the wagon train. She could no longer bask in the shadow of her physician husband.

She cast a glance about them toward the trees that darkened the edges of the creek-fed valley. What other disasters would they encounter in this forest-shrouded, water-poisoned Missouri wilderness?

“Nobody blames you, sweetheart.” It was the warm, sisterly voice of Audy Reich from behind her.

Audy stepped to Victoria’s side and placed an arm around her. The woman was stout muscled from years of hard work and childbearing, but she had a smile that was as warm and genuine as the earth beneath their feet. She smelled of sage and fresh perspiration, and Victoria drew comfort from the woman’s reassuring regard.

“I’ve never been more proud of someone as I have of you these past days,” Audy said. “Tending the sick, bringing them back from the jaws of death itself.”

“Not all.”

“Five of them, my friend, and you prevented more illness.”

“Your husband’s the one who risked his life for others. He helped, exposing himself to the same risk.”

“I do believe you’re the most modest doctor I know.”

Victoria shrugged. “My family warned me I would never be accepted into a medical society. I was always told no woman could be a doctor.”

“There’s no medical society out here on the trail, just grateful patients.” Audy shook her head. “That husband of yours, he must’ve been a special man. I’m glad he taught you so well. The way you and the captain wrenched those others from the cholera was nothing less exciting than the rescue from the flood.”

Victoria glanced toward the graves and mourned.

“Those were not your fault, and you know it,” Audy said. “Luella would have jumped in to save her son even if she’d known it meant death.”

Victoria winced. She’d been thinking all day that if Joseph hadn’t agreed to bring the Johnstons along, there’d have been no illnesses or death. Audy tightened her hold around Victoria’s shoulders. “You two worked wonders as you fought to save lives.” She patted Victoria’s shoulder firmly. “Seems to me you soaked in some of your husband’s teaching instincts.”

Victoria appreciated her friend’s ability to distract. “How’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it may have something to do with the way our Captain Rickard hovers over you.” Audy gave an exaggerated wink and a grin. “I’m sure that’s so he can catch your every word about doctoring, don’t you think?”

Victoria’s face heated again. “I believe that’s exactly what he’s doing.”

“I heard he learned a lot about doctoring from your husband, and was called upon to treat many a patient out on the Oregon Trail.”

“He continues to learn, though. As does Heidi.” Time for a change of subject. “The girl’s a natural healer. I’m hoping Kansas will be more open to women practicing medicine, so when she’s grown there’ll be a place for her.”

Audy shook her head, the smile lines gone from her eyes. “I’ve already told her she has a place in our family, though she’s not listening. Right now she can’t even hear it.”

Victoria linked arms with her steadfast friend and took a few steps with her from the burial site. “Thank you for hunting the herbs and roots we needed. You kept Heidi distracted from the worst of it.”

Audy’s hazel eyes welled with sorrow. She puffed loose strands of graying brown hair from her face. “My six boys did the distracting. When Heidi wasn’t helping William herd those wild younger brothers of his, that sweet gal was on my heels looking for those plants even if she had to tromp through the weeds and risk stepping on copperheads and poison ivy.”

“She’s brave.” Victoria cast a glance around for her young assistant and caught a flash of long, pale hair in the clearing before Audy leaned close to her ear.

“Mind you, William hasn’t been able to keep his attention on his chores since the Ladues joined our train. After all, it’s definitely springtime.” She paused. “Love seems to hover in the air no matter the circumstances. I think you might be aware of a little of that yourself.”

Victoria refused to glance toward Joseph.

Audy gave Victoria another squeeze of the arm and let her go. “Now, honey, don’t you act all innocent with me. Even my crusty ol’ husband can see a good match when it’s right there under his nose.”

“Are you hinting that the captain and I—”

“Hinting? Not me. I’m saying it straight. You and our good captain seem to be more than friends. Don’t you think it’s only natural? You’re a young woman alone. Luella mentioned a time or two that you and the captain were alike in so many ways.”

Victoria took a deep breath. Physicians weren’t supposed to weep over the deaths of their patients. “Luella knew that...that Joseph and I are old friends.” This physician likely had swollen eyes and a red nose from all her tears.

“That would make sense, knowing he and your Matthew were friends.” Audy’s voice was gentle as she said, “Luella would be touched that you grieved her so, but we knew her deep faith. She and her boy are past suffering.”

Victoria hesitated, choosing her words. “There are many things I don’t know anymore.”

“That happens as we grow older and wiser. It don’t hurt to question the Lord every so often, because He already knows what’s in your heart.”

“But Heidi’s alone. How could God—”

“He’ll see to her. She’ll be loved to pieces amongst our brood. Who wouldn’t adore such a thoughtful child?”

Victoria nodded as her attention wandered back to Joseph—her anchor today amidst the loss.

“Remember what the Good Book says,” Audy murmured in Victoria’s ear. “In heaven there is no marriage. In spite of what some folks think in high society, you’re not tied to any rules out here in this wild land.”

Victoria wanted to hug Audy Reich and thank her for utilizing her skills for distraction. She knew how deeply the death of the Ladues affected everyone.

“A man and a woman don’t linger talkin’ late into the night if they don’t have something to say to each other,” Audy said.

Victoria swallowed as the heat warmed her face once more. What a temptation to give in and tell her friend about her struggles with Joseph. “Audy Reich, must I remind you my husband has been gone barely seven months?”

“Nobody needs reminding of anything out here. One does the necessary thing when times are difficult.”

But what was necessary? Taking care of each other and making it safely to their new home was vital right now. Romance was not.

Victoria glanced toward those who hovered near the burial site. No one was looking their way. The oldest Reich boy, William, stood over by one of the two family wagons, casting shy glances in Heidi’s direction.

The young girl, nearing her fifteenth birthday, seemed unaware of anything at the moment. To be alone in the world at such a young age would be a horrible thing. She didn’t yet realize that she would be smothered with love, mothered by each woman in every wagon. After all, they’d taken Buster and Gray in after the wagon debacle; how much more would they care for her?

Victoria knew, however, that no one could take the place of family.

“I think your Matthew would understand,” Audy said.

Victoria returned her attention to her friend, and at the mention of her late husband’s name tears prickled her eyes. “Understand?”

“He just wouldn’t want you struggling alone.”

“But I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by good people. Joseph knew what kind of community he was building when he chose these folks.”

“Aw, now you’re just trying to distract me. Guess Reich didn’t tell you what a matchmaker I was back in St. Louis.”

“It wouldn’t take much of an imagination.”

Audy gave a soft chuckle. “You’re right, I’m afraid. I’m an interfering old biddy.”

“No, you’re a kindhearted friend.” Victoria glanced toward Joseph again and saw him bowing his head for a final farewell over the mounds of the graves. They’d all had their prayers over the bodies and honored their memories. She doubted so many tears had ever been shed in this beautiful valley filled with birdsong and flowers and rushing water. Did anyone else know this place as a valley of death?

When Joseph raised his head, he looked straight at her. She gave him a brief nod and turned away. She had other duties to perform, and though he didn’t know it yet, her direction and his wouldn’t coincide. Though Victoria had no choice but to leave the wagon train, she couldn’t bear the thought of Heidi feeling totally abandoned by her family and her mentor all in the same few days.

Victoria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had already hinted to some of her friends that she had to leave the wagon train for a while, and now that was going to be more difficult. “You know, Audy, I have a stop to make before I continue my journey, so I may not arrive right along with you to that promised land in Kansas.”

Audy caught her breath and drew back, the sun-streaked lines of her face more pronounced. “A stop?” Her voice, always robust, grew louder, and some from the huddle of mourners turned to cast a glance.

Victoria quietly shushed her.

“Has the captain been told?” Audy asked more softly.

“I’ve made some medical calls along the route before when we’ve heard of illness and injuries. You know that’s my way.”

“Yes, and none of those have slowed you down, so what is it about this stop that would keep you from traveling on with us?”

“I recently discovered that this one’s out of the way of the wagon train, since we’ve changed our route to avoid the border ruffians.”

“Ah, yes. The captain told us about your husband’s dastardly killer. You think he’d have the nerve to show up on the trail, then?”

“I believe he would. I planned this stop before Matthew’s death.” Victoria looked toward Heidi’s slight figure—she stood a good stone’s throw from the rest of the group. “You will watch after her while I’m gone.”

“But, honey, a woman alone in this wilderness? What on earth would you do out there?”

“I can protect myself in the wild. What I can’t do is risk taking the rest of the wagon train with me.” An image of Broderick Thames, with his hulking shoulders and long, silver braid down his back, had haunted Victoria for months. “I have no choice. I made a promise. Audy, Heidi nearly fell apart when her brother passed on yesterday afternoon. She’s going to need a tender hand for quite some time.”

For a moment, Audy didn’t say anything, simply watched Heidi and shook her head. She sighed. “The captain won’t let you do it, my dear.”

“I know.” And she did. It wasn’t difficult to see how protective Joseph was of her.

“He’s quite smitten, I believe.”

Victoria nodded, for once allowing herself to enjoy the warmth of that knowledge for a few seconds. She loved how he sought her company. “But he doesn’t need any distractions on this journey, and I’ve had enough heartbreak to last me a lifetime.” She studied the graves. She’d been married to a man whose passion she couldn’t return. Could she even love again as she once had loved Joseph?

Matthew had deserved a woman’s whole heart, but he’d settled for her broken one. As he’d worded it the day he’d asked her to marry him, he believed this was the closest a man like him was going to come to true happiness. They’d had a full marriage in every way, and Victoria knew he’d been content. If he ever wondered about her heart, however, he’d never spoken of it. For that she was grateful.