The Doctor's Lady (22 page)

Priscilla’s gaze lingered on their intertwined hands swinging between them as they walked toward the Indian camps. She wouldn’t want to follow them around anyway. She’d only get in the way. And she’d have to deal with the uncomfortable tension that surfaced whenever she and Henry were near each other. Even though he’d remained polite about her situation with Eli and the rejection he’d witnessed in the tent, she couldn’t shake the feeling he was secretly gloating over her misfortune.

At David’s squeal of delight, she tore her attention away from Mabel and smiled at the baby. His chubby fingers piled one rock on top of another until they toppled and earned his giggles.

She might not have a marriage like Mabel or a baby growing inside her, but at least she had David. When they reached Fort Vancouver in Oregon Country, the first thing she’d buy would be material to make him new clothes.

He clapped his hands and chirped a babbling of words. He held out his arms toward her. “Ma-ma-ma-ma.”

Priscilla’s breath caught in her throat. “Ma-ma?” She often referred to Running Feet as his
mother.
Did David now think
she
was his mother?

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby.” She crossed to him and knelt on the blanket, scooping him into her arms.

He laid his head against her chest, and his eyes drooped.

He’d called her
mama
. She squeezed back tears and tried to swallow the painful lump in her throat. She’d given up her dream of having a baby. But maybe God was giving her the chance to be a mother after all.

A lump in her throat ached but in a tenuously joyful way.

The warmth of the early morning sun poured over her head and sent rays all the way to her heart. She lined David’s breeches with fresh moss and rocked him until he fell asleep. With a prayer of thanksgiving in her heart, she laid him in the shade inside the tepee.

“I think I shall join Mabel in the Indian camp today.” She tied her bonnet in place. Why should she cower any longer? She’d told herself that she’d just been busy with long-neglected chores and with taking care of David, but the fact was, she was more nervous about meeting the natives than she cared to admit.

And it was past time to put aside her fears and do what she’d come west to do.

Richard and John jumped off the wagon bed.

“Would you tend to David if he awakes while I’m gone?”

“Mrs. Doc cannot go alone.” Richard crossed toward her.

She hesitated. The memory of Old Ephraim’s filthy hands strangling her wasn’t something she could forget. Ever.

“Doc tell me not to let Mrs. Doc go anywhere alone.”

“I’m not worried about what Dr. Ernest wants.” She’d managed well enough while he’d been visiting the sick and injured among the trappers and Indians.

“Where is the Nez Perce camp?” She started past the tent and wagons and then stopped, trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. “If you could just point me in the right direction, I’ll be fine.”

“I go with,” Richard said. “I take you to camp. John stay with David.”

Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was glad to have him accompany her. They made their way along the river, past several other tribes, until they reached the edge of the Nez Perce camp.

Through the haze of campfires, she spotted Mabel amidst a group of women and waved.

Mabel stood. “Sister Ernest!”

Beyond Mabel, Eli and Henry were in a deep discussion with a party of Indian men. At Mabel’s call, they looked to Mabel and then to her.

Worry flashed across Eli’s face before he could hide it. For a moment, he started, almost as if contemplating coming toward her. But then something Henry said brought his attention back to the circle of men.

She smiled at the cluster of children that followed each step she took. Their greasy fingers clutched at her skirt. She couldn’t look at their mostly naked bodies without flushing with embarrassment.

Half-clad dirty children. She couldn’t understand Eli’s reasoning. Surely these children would benefit from learning a more civilized manner of living—proper clothes, good hygiene, healthy foods. Wasn’t that what God had called her to do—to teach them how to better themselves?

As she reached Mabel and the native women, she bent over and patted the heads of several children, earning giggles.

“They’re teaching me to make pemmican,” Mabel explained.

The stench of stale buffalo meat assaulted Priscilla, and she pressed a hand to her nose.

The Indian women greeted her with shy smiles and their gibberish speech. One of them passed her a grinding stone and another a thin dried strip of buffalo meat.

It was similar to the strips they’d hung to dry from their wagon. Theirs had attracted more dust and maggots than she could stomach, and she couldn’t imagine how she would ever be able to eat it.

“Grind the meat into powder,” Mabel instructed. “Then once it’s fine enough, we add chopped huckleberries and melted buffalo fat.”

Priscilla tried to hold back a shudder.

One of the Indian women broke off a piece—the same muddy brown and crumbly texture as dried dung. She held it out to Priscilla and motioned for her to eat it.

“Try it,” Mabel said. “I know it doesn’t look appetizing, but it’s actually quite sweet.”

The Indian woman grunted at her and motioned again for her to eat it.

Priscilla said a silent prayer and then stuffed the piece of pemmican into her mouth, trying to breathe through her nose. The rotten stench was enough to drive out the fruity flavor.

She chewed, forced herself to swallow, and resisted the urge to think about how much dirt and how many insects she was eating. Instead, she smiled at the women who’d stopped their work to watch her.

Had she made a mistake coming? She certainly didn’t want to spend the morning grinding dirty buffalo meat and trying not to get sick from the odor.

“I thought you were passing out Bibles and tracts,” Priscilla said, pressing her fingers against her nose again.

Mabel laughed. “Oh no, dear. Not here. The Bibles are for the trappers. You know the natives can’t read yet.”

“Of course.” Heat fanned into her face.

“I’m just trying to befriend the women,” Mabel explained, “and learn more of their language and customs.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Eli and Henry making their way toward them. Mabel’s words echoed those Eli had spoken recently. “But shouldn’t we be attempting to teach
them
something useful, like sewing clothes for their children?”

“Perhaps, eventually. But I’m sure they’ll have just as many things to teach us as we will them,” Mabel said. “Don’t you think?”

Priscilla tried to smile at the Indian women who were watching her while they worked. Could she really learn from them? If so, what?

Eli stopped beside her. A light sparked in his eyes. “I’m glad you finally decided to join Mabel today.”

Priscilla hesitated. Did she detect sincerity in his voice?

“I see you got your first taste of pemmican.” He nodded toward the heap of the dried mixture in one of the baskets. “Wasn’t it delicious?”

“It was—” Could she find anything even remotely positive to say about the moldy meat mixture? “I’d say it had a rather unique flavor.”

The glimmer in his eyes grew brighter, and the hint of a grin teased his lips. “It’s my favorite.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know how I’ve survived these past months without it.”

A tiny smile worked its way into her heart. “Then I shall have to be a good wife and learn to make it for you, so you can eat it for every meal.”

“Only if you promise to add as many maggots as you possibly can.”

The smile inside finally made it to her lips. “And I’ll be sure to add spider legs for good measure.” Why couldn’t they enjoy each other’s company like this more often?

Mabel’s face had grown pale during their banter and her eyes wide. “Maybe I should refrain from involving Sister Ernest in any more of the pemmican making.”

Laughter danced in Eli’s eyes.

When had she heard him laugh? Had she ever? They’d had so little to laugh about during the trip.

“Oh, but Sister Spalding.” She tried to keep her tone serious. “I was hoping I could take over the duty for the rest of the trip.”

Eli coughed back a laugh, and Priscilla’s heart warmed.

“I hate to be the one to cast a shadow over your jesting.” Henry looked at Priscilla’s forehead instead of her eyes. Even after all the weeks of traveling together, he never sought her out or spoke to her unless he had to. “But we have much more important matters that need our immediate attention—the first being whether we should take the Nez Perce up on their offer to travel with them to Fort Walla Walla.”

The smile faded from Eli’s face, replaced by the anxious crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “I already told you we can’t ride with the tribe. Their route is too long. If we head northward over the mountains into the Bitterroot Valley, we’d lose the time we’ll need to get supplies and build lodges before winter sets in.”

“But who else can safely guide us the other way? It’s much too risky.”

“We’ll hire Kentuc.”

“He’s immature and unreliable. The chiefs even said as much themselves.”

“He traveled with Parker, and hopefully, he’ll know where to take us.”

Henry smoothed down his mustache. Somehow he managed to keep his mustache impeccably trimmed and his wearing apparel nearly spotless while the rest of the group looked like they rolled around on the dusty earth several times a day.

“When the chiefs are practically begging us to travel with them, how can we say no?” Henry tossed the Indian men a glance, and his Adam’s apple rose up and down.

They watched from a distance, their expressions stoic and their arms crossed.

Eli sighed. “It won’t work. As much as I’d like to ride with them and strengthen our bonds, we just don’t have the time to take their route.”

“What if we anger them by refusing their offer?”

“They’ll understand that we must move faster than they will.”

“I don’t know why I’m standing here arguing with you.” Henry’s voice sparked with irritation. “You haven’t valued my advice during this trip.”

“I’m the one who’s done this before. Don’t you think you should trust me?”

Henry was silent for a long moment.

The Indian women around them worked quietly, watching with wide eyes. Priscilla gave them a reassuring smile, but they lowered their eyes back to their grinding.

“The hard reality is that we don’t have much time either way we go.” Eli gazed west, his face tight with anxiety. “We’ve gotta make it to Fort Walla Walla by the beginning of September, or we’ll be in trouble.”

“You’re two very fine leaders,” Mabel rushed in. “And both of your plans have merit. Perhaps if we took them before the Lord in prayer—”

“I already have—” Eli started.

“Good idea,” Henry said at the same time.

Mabel’s cheerful smile withered. “It’s just a shame that Mr. Parker isn’t here to guide us.”

“He should have left us with some instructions,” Henry mumbled. “It’s the least he could have done.”

Eli kept his gaze fixed on the distance.

“If we can’t all pray,” Mabel said, “then Sister Ernest and I certainly can. Right, Sister Ernest?” Mabel’s kind eyes reached out to her.

Before Priscilla could respond, Henry slipped his arm around Mabel and pulled her against his side. “God has surely blessed me with the perfect wife.” He beamed down at her, careful to avoid looking at Priscilla.

A sliver of pain pierced Priscilla. She was sure he hadn’t meant his comment to hurt her, but it had nevertheless. She wasn’t able to be the perfect wife to any man—not even to Eli, who’d claimed her infertility didn’t matter. “You’re right. Mabel is the perfect wife. You’re blessed. You both are.”

For once, Henry met her gaze, and she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes—gratefulness?

She nodded. It was true. Henry and Mabel were blessed. They had a real, loving marriage. All she had was the empty shell of an arrangement.

No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t all she had. She had David. God had given her the opportunity to experience motherhood, albeit in an unusual way and under odd circumstances. It was a joy she’d never thought she’d have, a delight that went beyond her greatest expectations.

Maybe she’d failed in securing Eli’s love. But she certainly wouldn’t fail at mothering the baby entrusted to her care. She wouldn’t fail David or her promise to Running Feet to make him her son.

T
hey couldn’t delay leaving another day.

Eli had traded one of their wagons for more coffee beans and gunpowder. It was robbery—not nearly an equal exchange. But they needed only one wagon for the remainder of their journey. He had planned to take it all the way to Fort Walla Walla, but none of the trappers believed the wagon could go that far—especially through the Blue Mountains.

Priscilla didn’t know how she’d manage David without it.

She stood on her tiptoes and reached into the wagon, packing the last of the blankets into the back with the few remaining food stores. Her fingers lingered over her trunk, her only connection to her family and the life she’d once had.

Her sister, Mary Ann, would have had her baby by now. Did she have a girl or boy? And what name had she given the child?

An intense longing for home shot through Priscilla—so swift and sharp it took her breath away.

She brushed her hand over the brass dots that scrolled into an intricate design on the lid of the trunk. Who knew when she’d see her family again. If ever—

“Heard tell you’re leavin’ early.” Squire’s voice boomed through their camp.

Priscilla blinked hard and swiped at her cheeks to make sure they were dry. “Come on, big boy.” She stretched after David, who was crawling among the crates, having grown more daring over the past days.

She didn’t know what she’d do with him once he gained full mobility.

He came to her with a half giggle, half squeal, and her heart melted into a smile. She hoisted him onto her hip, wishing she could avoid another encounter with Squire but grateful it would be her last.

“You tryin’ to sneak outta here without any of us knowin’?” Squire asked. “We still got several more days of gamblin’ and drinkin’ before we call an end to the Rendezvous.”

Eli wrapped the tie strap through the cinch and tightened it until it fit snugly around his horse’s belly before turning to face the burly man and several other trappers who stood behind him.

“That means you still got time here to try and convert all us wayward souls.” There was something hard in Squire’s expression that was reflected in the faces of the men with him.

“We’re hoping to get an early start,” Eli said calmly. “You know as well as I do that we have to get over the Blue Mountains before the first snowfall.”

Squire’s glance passed over the smoldering fire pit and the yellow matted grass where the tent had stood before coming to rest on Priscilla. His one eye narrowed.

She lifted her chin and hefted David against her chest. His arms and legs wrapped around her just as if he belonged there.

“I’m thinkin’ you didn’t want me to know you was leaving.”

Henry stepped around the horse he was saddling. “We surely wouldn’t leave without giving you our thanks for getting us this far in our journey.”

“I doubt that.” Squire’s voice was laced with accusation. “Everyone thought you was gonna go with the Nez Perce when they break camp. Then I got word this mornin’ you hired Kentuc to lead you on out.”

“That’s right,” Eli said. “We decided to take the more direct, easier route.”

Squire stared at Priscilla, then flicked his gaze to David and back to her.

This time she couldn’t suppress a shudder.

“I hope you wasn’t plannin’ to kidnap my son.”

She started. “Kidnap?”

“Yep. I get the feelin’ you was planning on takin’ him without asking.”

A thunderclap reverberated through her heart. “Running Feet gave him to my care.”

“He’s my son.”

“But Running Feet—she made me promise—she wanted me to raise David as my child. She said you wouldn’t want the baby.”

“Then seems we got a problem here. ’Cuz he’s my son, and I aim to raise him.”

The raging storm in Priscilla’s chest pounded hard enough to break her ribs. She clutched David and took a step back. She bumped into the hard edge of the wagon bed.

“Come on, Squire,” Eli said. “You know as well as I do that Running Feet wanted Priscilla to have the baby. She’ll be able to give him a better life and home than you ever could. Running Feet knew that, and so do you.”

“He’s my son. No one can blame me for wanting to keep my own flesh and blood.” He shot a glance at the men behind him. Their hands slipped to their guns.

“You can’t take the baby from her after all these weeks she’s cared for him. That’s downright cruel. And I never took you for a cruel man.”

“Oh, I ain’t cruel.”

Desperate panic charged through her. She wouldn’t let Squire take David from her. She pressed the baby’s head against her bosom. “But what about Running Feet’s wishes? Surely you wouldn’t have me break my promise to her?”

One side of Squire’s mouth turned up in a grin. “Naw. Don’t want you to break your promise. What kinda fella do you take me for?”

Mabel had edged over to her and slipped a hand around her back.

Priscilla leaned into the woman, suddenly weak.

“You can keep the baby”—Squire looked directly at her—“if you come back to St. Louis with me.”

Her gasp echoed Mabel’s and was followed by a chorus of protests from Henry and Eli.

Squire’s grin spread. “I’ll build you a purty house, and you can live there and take care of the baby.”

“Don’t say any more!” Eli shouted and started toward Squire.

One of the men behind Squire raised his gun and cocked the trigger.

Eli stopped. “I can’t believe this! Priscilla’s not going back with you. Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m asking
her.
Not
you.
” Squire’s voice turned low and dangerous.

Eli’s hand dropped to his knife, sheathed at his hip. “She’s my wife. So no, you’re not asking her.”

Priscilla’s flesh crawled, and she buried her face against David’s head.

“She ain’t your wife.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“You ain’t been sleepin’ with her. So I figure she ain’t your wife.”

Her heart pinched with mortification. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

“It’s not your concern what goes on between me and Priscilla.”

“It’s my concern now. ’Cuz if she ain’t your wife, then she’s free to come to St. Louis with me.”

She sucked in a deep breath of David’s soft downy scent and hid her face.

“We’re legally married. And it doesn’t matter what has or hasn’t happened between us.”

“It’ll matter to a judge—especially if you ain’t never taken her to bed.”

Humiliation dumped over her like dirty bath water. She wanted to shrivel up and disappear. But instead, every eye was fixed upon her, upon her naked shame.

“The truth is—” Eli hesitated and tossed her a look of apology. “The truth is, we made a deal. Neither one of us wanted to get married, so we decided on a business partnership.”

Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord.
Priscilla closed her eyes. But the prayer stuck in her throat. Now everyone knew about her shell of a marriage. How would she be able to face any of them again without burning with embarrassment?

“We made a deal. And I aim to keep my part of the bargain to get her to the West safely. If it’s too dangerous there, I’ll put her on the first ship back to the East, back to her home. That’s the only place she’s going.”

Mabel’s arm tightened around her.

“I’m thinkin’ we should let her decide,” Squire said. “Does she want to come with me and keep David or stay with you and keep your empty
deal
.”

“’Course she’s going to stay with me,” Eli said, but the hesitancy in his voice made her lift her head.

Would she even dare consider leaving Eli and staying with David? Her heart knocked hard against her chest. How much was she willing to sacrifice to keep the baby?

She squeezed David hard, her chest constricting until she could hardly breathe.

Could she even consider the possibility of being around Squire? Was David worth the discomfort of having to be near that devious man every day?

“Ma-ma-ma.” His chubby fingers patted her cheek.

She leaned into his palm and kissed it. A sob caught in her throat. Was she willing to endure Squire for the rest of her life for the sake of this baby—the child she thought she’d never have?

“You’re not seriously considering his offer, are you?” Eli’s voice rose with a ring of surprise.

She lifted her chin. He’d just embarrassed her in front of everyone by telling them about their business arrangement—when he’d known how much she wanted to keep the matter private. Why wouldn’t she consider it? Especially since he might end up sending her back home anyway?

Maybe she’d do them both a favor by accepting Squire’s offer. Why should she continue with a man who hadn’t wanted her in the first place? He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in her love. He didn’t need her anymore—not for himself or for the mission.

And David desperately needed her.

“I been stashing away a heap of money on this here beaver trading,” Squire said. “I could afford to give you a real nice home, fancy clothes, and everything a real lady like you could ever want.”

“Why?” Eli asked. “What’s in it for you?”

The trapper’s grin turned lopsided. “My son gets a real fine mother. That’s all.”

“I’ll bet that isn’t all you want.”

“And she gets to keep the baby.” Squire’s eye swept over her with a look that stopped the thumping of her heart and sent it pattering with unease.

“You can’t take Priscilla.” Eli’s voice rang with finality.

“If she wants to do what’s best for the baby, she’ll accept my offer.”

How could this be happening? The trembling in her knees radiated to her belly.

“What do you say, sweetheart? You want to keep the baby?” Squire leveled his one eye upon her.

For an instant, gentleness softened the lines of his face—the same tenderness he’d bestowed upon Running Feet.

Yes, her heart screamed. She wanted to keep the baby. She’d ached for one for so long, though she’d tried not to. And now God was finally giving her the chance to be a mother when she’d thought the joy of motherhood would never be hers.

David’s happy chirp carried through the silence of the camp. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for her answer.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. Agony roiled through her stomach.

Next to her Mabel whispered a prayer.

Could she give up her dreams and plans for missions—the very calling God had placed upon her life so long ago? Could she give it up now on a whim? For the desire to experience motherhood? For the very thing she’d come to believe God had called her to sacrifice?

Despair pushed down on her. She knew what she must do.

But how could she possibly let go of David?

“
Please
,” she pleaded, “don’t take him from me.”

Squire barked something in Nez Perce.

Out of the shadows behind him, an old squaw stepped forward and started toward her.

“No!” Priscilla clutched David tighter.

David strained back. “Ma-ma?”

The word ripped her heart.

The Indian woman shuffled to Priscilla.

“Put an end to this, Squire.” Eli took a step toward the burly man, but the cocking of another rifle stopped him.

At the sight of two loaded barrels aimed at Eli’s heart, fear pounded through Priscilla. He might have hurt her and he might not need her, but she didn’t want him to die.

“Give the squaw my son,” Squire commanded.

The Indian woman reached for David. Her dark eyes crinkled with apology.

Priscilla clung to the baby. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin onto his head. “He wants me—needs me—”

“Stop all this now, Squire,” Eli called. “The game is over. Let Priscilla have the child.”

The squaw’s hands closed around David.

Priscilla couldn’t let go. “No, you can’t do this. Who else will love him like I do?”

“You got two choices,” Squire said. “You can give the squaw the baby. Or you can walk over here and stand by my side.”

Eli strained forward, but Henry grabbed him and wrestled him back. “You tried; you lost,” Eli yelled. “Let her have the baby.”

Mabel’s sobs wafted over Priscilla.

The old woman mumbled something in Nez Perce. Squire folded his arms across his chest.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Eli said, his voice cracking. “If you take that baby from her, you’ll lose the little respect I still have for you.”

Squire didn’t move.

David whimpered again.

Priscilla lifted David until her cheek was pressing against his soft one. With fierce love clawing at her heart, she laid her lips against the warm flesh of his cheek and tasted the saltiness of her own tears there.

With a sob, she released her hold.

The squaw stumbled backward and gripped the baby to her chest.

David squirmed around and held out his arms toward Priscilla. “Ma-ma . . .”

His wail caught her heart and shredded it.

The squaw tried to turn him away, but he craned his neck. “Ma-ma?”

The confusion and desperation in his cry threatened to tear her apart. Another sob escaped.

When Mabel’s outstretched arms pulled her into an embrace, Priscilla was helpless to do anything but fall against her.