Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01] (43 page)

How? Mutter didn’t have any left in the wagon. How had she gotten her hands on more? She’d left the general store without it. Mutter wouldn’t have gone and found a saloon … not with so many from camp right there.

Why had Anna trusted her? She shouldn’t have. She needed to get the liquor away from Mutter before the captain found out about it.

Anna scrambled over the seat and in through the canvas opening. A half-empty bottle of amber liquid lay on the floor. “Where did you get it, Mutter?”

Mutter lay in her hammock in one of her drunken stupors. She didn’t answer.

“Mutter!” Anna rose onto her tiptoes and nudged Mutter’s shoulder more abruptly than she should have. But she was tired of this. She’d believed Mutter had finally given up the drink. “Wake up!”

Mutter didn’t even stir.

Anna’s heart hammered in her chest as she laid her hand on Mutter’s cheek. Her skin was still warm, but waxy and damp. Heat raced up Anna’s neck into her face. “Mutter!”

She shook her.

“Wake up!” What was wrong? She’d seen Mutter in a drunken stupor countless times, but never this bad. Her gaze settled on Mutter’s chest. It wasn’t moving.

Terror clutching her, Anna pressed her fingers to Mutter’s wrist.

Nothing.

“What have you done?”
Anna didn’t realize she’d yelled until she heard a commotion headed their way.

“It came from the Goben camp.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Get Otto!”

The sarsaparilla soured in Anna’s stomach. She couldn’t let them find Mutter like this. Couldn’t let them find the bottle. And what about the smell?

What would Mutter do?

Her hands shaking, Anna corked the bottle and shoved it into her own trunk. Then she yanked an onion from the hanging sack, dropped it between two barrels, and stomped on it.

Tears burned her eyes.

God help her, Mutter was dead.

And Anna was still trying to protect her.

Caleb glanced out at the road in the direction of Rock Creek. He’d lost count of how many times he’d done the same thing in the past hour.

“I like dominoes good enough.”

Caleb gripped his double-seven and looked up at Oliver Rengler, who sat across the table from him. It was a real good thing he wasn’t doing anything that required a lot of concentration. Between his rolling thoughts of Anna and Oliver’s love of gab, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

“It’s just that I miss playin’ checkers with ol’ Mister Heinrich. We talked about the river and Germany. And he always had somethin’ new to show me. Like a steroviewer.”

Caleb nodded. “We left a lot of good people behind in Saint Charles.” He opened his hand and played his sevens.

“Woo-weee.” A grin widened Oliver’s face. “I was hopin’ you’d play a seven. That’s all I needed to win you.”

“Again.” Caleb raised his hands in surrender. That was it for him. He’d seen Anna and the others ride into camp. Not that she’d be looking for him, but he might just decide to take a stroll that direction before supper.

“I’m real good at games. That’s what Owen says.”

“Well, your brother is right. And that’s the last trouncing for me today.” Caleb started stacking the tiles into their wooden box.

Oliver grabbed a handful of dominoes and made stacks on the table, then looked up at Caleb. “Did Madam-eezle Camille talk to you today?”

Caleb shook his head. “Was she supposed to?”

“I told her to tell you or the captain when she told me about her father’s pill case.”

“The doctor’s? What about it?”

“Well, it’s missing. She said they looked high and low for it.”

“So, she thinks someone stole his pill case?”

Oliver nodded, his chin practically brushing his coveralls. His head suddenly still, he opened his hands and raised them. “And I didn’t take it.”

“She said you did?”

“The Madam-eezle?” Oliver shook his head. “No. But Sally thinks I took all those things.”

As far as Caleb was concerned, Oliver’s sister-in-law and Emery Beck belonged in a camp of their own. “But you didn’t take any of it.”

“No sir. I like to look at nice things, but stealing is a sin. Says so in the Ten Commandments.”

“What have you done?”

Caleb’s spine stiffened. The shout belonged to Anna. He could tell that even in the distance.

Oliver’s bushy brows shot upward. “That was Miss Anna.”

“Yes.” Miss Anna very upset, which probably meant her mother had been drinking again. Caleb stood and grabbed his hat from the table.

“I’m coming too.” Oliver shuffled behind him. “I like Miss Anna.”

There was a good chance Wilma had snuck a bottle out of the general store. And this time, everyone in camp would know about it.

When he and Oliver arrived at the Gobens’ camp, Boney looked out through the pucker of canvas at the front of the wagon, through the gathering crowd, and straight at Caleb.

“It’s Wilma.” His voice quavered. “Get the doctor!”

Caleb darted to the Le Beaus’ cookfire and returned with the doctor and his daughter. When they stepped up into the Gobens’ wagon, Caleb waited at the edge of their camp with most of the Company. The sound of Anna crying inside the wagon foretold misfortune and tightened his chest.

Caroline and Mary Alice Brenner braced each other. Hattie stood with Maren Wainwright. Lorelei with her mother-in-law, Irene. All of Anna’s friends from the quilting circle. Sally and Owen Rengler stood off to the side, at a distance. Murmurs mixed with prayers buzzed about him until he thought his head might burst.

When Garrett stepped out over the seat, the crowd quieted. “Folks, it is with deep regret that I must announce very sad news. Mr. Otto Goben and Miss Anna have lost their beloved daughter and mother, Wilma, this evening.”

“Is it the plague?” Sally Rengler’s voice carried over the rising murmurs.

“Folks, there are no signs of an illness that could be considered contagious.” Garrett looked across the crowd, his hands out, palms down. “Now, out of respect for the bereaved, I ask that you all, except for Otto’s and Miss Anna’s close friends, return to your camps and go about your business.”

Caleb’s insides twisted. His guess was Anna’s mother had bought some rotgut. Trade whiskey.

And it was his fault.

He knew the problem she had. He also knew the power of its grip better than anyone who went to town with her. He should have protected her.

Now there was nothing he could do for any of the Gobens. Willing his legs to move, Caleb turned toward his camp.

“Caleb!”

Reluctantly, he looked over his shoulder as his boss walked toward him. “Bring Otto’s oxen up. You’ll go into town with him.”

Caleb shook his head. Not when it was his fault the man’s daughter was dead.

“You’re the right man,” Garrett said quietly.

“But, Boney—”

“Trust me.”

It didn’t seem he had a choice. Caleb swallowed the rest of his argument and nodded.

C
aroline knelt in front of Anna. “You need to at least drink something, Anna.” She held out a steaming cup of black tea with a sprig of mint. Her poor friend sat on a mattress in Maren’s wagon, wrapped in the circle’s friendship quilt, her knees bent and her head bowed. Rutherford had taken Maren and Gabi to Mary Alice’s camp for supper.

Anna looked up, her eyes puffy, circled in red.

“You won’t feel like eating or doing much of anything for a while,” Caroline said, “but please try to drink this.”

Anna reached for the cup, her movements slow. “You shouldn’t be here. You have a joyful wedding to plan. You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Mrs. Brantenberg was fond of saying, ‘Here in this quilting circle, none of us are alone. Not in our sorrows, nor in our triumphs.’ ” Caroline watched steam rise from the tea. “This is what friends … sister-friends do. What you did for me when I learned Phillip was dead.”

“Only Mutter’s death is my fault.”

“You did everything you could for her. Some things are out of our control.”

“I wanted to make her well.” Anna sniffled. “I thought I could.”

“I know.” Caroline glanced pointedly at the tea.

Anna raised the cup to her mouth. “My grandfather should’ve let me go with them.” Caleb had gone with Otto to drive Wilma’s lifeless body into Rock Creek. After one sip of tea, Anna lowered the cup to her lap. “I should be with my family. What’s left of it.” She took a short, sharp breath. “What if she wakes up? What if—”

“Anna, you found her already gone.” Caroline rested her hands on Anna’s knee. “Garrett checked her. And Dr. Le Beau—”

“I know. But my heart can’t believe it.” Her lips quivering, Anna shook her head again. “I should have left the store with her.”

Caroline knew about
should have
feelings too. Anytime someone you loved died, you second guessed your actions. And they always came up short.

“First, he buried his wife, then his grandson. And now his daughter. Poor Großvater. I should be with him.”

“Caleb will take care of him.”

Anna hung her head.

Caroline took the cup from Anna and set it on a barrel. After lowering herself to the mattress, she drew her friend into an embrace. Anna’s head nestled against Caroline’s shoulder as they let fresh tears fall. “Lord Jesus. You see us.”

God had nudged Caroline forward, drawn her into a brighter future. Anna’s situation was different, but God would do the same for Anna … in time. Caroline had to believe that for her friend.

Caleb walked alongside Otto on the road to Rock Creek, holding the oxen’s lead rope. He chose his path carefully to avoid jostling the wagon. Otto stared straight ahead, but Caleb doubted he saw much. His chest scarcely lifted, his breaths shallow. Otto hadn’t spoken a word since leaving camp.

The image of Anna in pain haunted Caleb. All he’d wanted to do was stay. Hold her. Comfort her. But on the one occasion she looked directly at him, all he could see was anger. The only words she’d spoken to him were in protest, saying she should be taking her mother’s body into town, not him. But Otto had insisted she remain there with her friends.

Caleb took his hat off and put it right back on. In the silence, his past was on the attack. He could have done more. Whether Anna would listen to him or not, he could have said more to Wilma. If he’d told her everything, maybe he could have made her see the destruction that lay ahead of her. Maybe he could have saved her.

There had to be some way to make his own redemption from the bottle
beneficial to someone. If he couldn’t comfort the woman he cared for, he’d at least try to be of some help to her grandfather.

“Sir.”

Otto drew in a halting breath.

“Are you all right?”

Otto shook his head. “I’m carrying my daughter’s dead body to be buried among strangers. It will take time.”

Caleb knew about the passing of time but wasn’t as confident about time making that much of a difference.

“Alcohol killed her.”

Caleb felt his throat tighten with a fresh onslaught of remorse, and nodded.

“Wilma was in the store with Anna. I didn’t know—” Otto’s voice broke. “You did all you could for her.”

Otto shook his head, kicking a clot of dirt in his path. “You know my Wilma got hold of rotgut? It’s poison.”