Another Dawn (8 page)

      
Seeming to understand, she slipped off her lab coat and pulled up her sleeve, displaying the small puckered mark that proved her immunity to smallpox. Assuming, of course, there really was smallpox here...

      
"You see this?" Luke slipped his hand under her arm, surprised he'd never noticed before how soft a woman's skin could be in that particular spot.

      
"I seen one of them before. It keeps folks from gettin' smallpox, just like they'd done had 'em before, like me."
 
Zeke nodded in approval. "You got one of them there marks, too,
Padre?"

      
Luke released Sofie's arm and rolled up his left sleeve. "Satisfied?"

      
The men exchanged glances, obviously in non-verbal consultation. After a moment, they seemed to reach an agreement, and they leveled their guns at Sofie and Luke again. "Yeah," Zeke said. "We'll be satisfied right fine if'n you two just march yourselves on ahead of us now."

      
"No, I–"

      
A hammer clicked.

      
"I don't cotton to usin' guns on nobody, and especially not on a priest and a woman," Zeke explained quietly, "but my missus is doin' poorly."
 
He looked at Sofie, his faded eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Maybe you can help the doc save her and the others."
 
He turned to face Luke. "And if they cain't, then
you
can give her a proper buryin'. She's always set a powerful store in things like that, even if we be Baptists."

      
Luke's disguise had backfired. He swallowed hard, looking down the long, cold barrel of Zeke's rifle. Luke had no choice but to agree to their demands. For now. Once night fell and he assured himself of Sofie's safety, he'd sneak away. It was his only hope.

      
And if a bullet finished the job the electric chair had started...so be it.

      
Better than frying.

      
Sofie shivered, acutely aware of Father Salazar's anxiety. Veins bulged on his neck and sunburned scalp, and perspiration trickled down the sides of his face, disappearing into his soiled white collar.

      
Bewildered, she looked from the priest to their captors, resigned. Guns gave them an indisputable advantage, though she didn't really believe they meant any harm. Zeke's pain regarding his wife's illness was too raw, too real, to be feigned.

      
She and Father Salazar could be courting serious illness, or even death, by entering Redemption. Was that what worried Father Salazar?

      
Slowly, she began walking in the direction Zeke's rifle pointed. Father Salazar released her hand and followed a few steps behind.

      
This morning at the cave, he'd threatened to leave her behind. His actions had belied his words repeatedly throughout this harrowing day. Thank God.

      
She glanced back at him again, ignoring the throbbing in her temple which had returned with a vengeance, undoubtedly aggravated by hunger and exhaustion. The priest's gaze darted back and forth and his lips were set in a grim line. He had the look of a desperate man, a caged lion. Again, she asked herself
why
?
 

      
Yet another mystery, reminding her of his persistence concerning her profession, even while maintaining they'd never met before today. No matter how she tried to understand how that was possible, it made no sense. How could he be so sure, and why should she believe him, even if he was a priest?

      
Intensity burned in his eyes–a trait contrary to his calling? Though she couldn't remember any other priests she'd ever met, she thought she understood what it meant to be one. Father Salazar should be holy and good, better than the average man. More giving. Well, he'd saved her life, hadn't he?
Yes, he saved me.

 
      
Why did general definitions of everyday things remain in her thoughts, while everything personal had vanished completely? She had no idea whether or not she was even Catholic, though Sofie knew without a doubt that Father Salazar was one weird priest.
 

      
In fact, the term weird summed him up in many ways. And hero.
My weird hero
. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, surprising her.

      
"Giddyup,
Padre,"
Zeke prodded, nudging Father Salazar with the barrel of his rifle. "Don't got all day, and I feel a powerful need to check on my missus."

      
Father Salazar stumbled and almost fell, catching himself with a stagger and a lurch. Sofie stopped, reaching out to assist him, but he shook his head as if to clear it, then wavered only once more before regaining his footing. He drew a deep breath and looked at her.

      
The expression in his eyes stole her breath. Desperate was an understatement. Father Salazar looked like a man whose immortal soul was on the line. Frantic.

      
"Don't worry yourself none,
Padre,"
Zeke said quietly. "Folks in Redemption'll treat you right kindly. I dunno where you was headed before, but my missus would say the Almighty brung you to us. I reckon it ain't my place–or your'n–to question His way."

      
Had God brought them here? Why? If she was here to save lives with her medical training, then why hadn't the "Almighty" seen fit to spare her memory?

      
Sofie tried not to dwell on the fact that Zeke expected her to save his wife's life. She tried to conjure something–anything medical–from the black void that was now her brain. Nothing. The only memories she had were of today, beginning with the sound of an explosion.
The Big Bang
? Yeah, right.
 

      
Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she swiped them away angrily. Drawing a deep breath, she turned her attention to the silent little town. Redemption's deathly calm was eerie and disturbing, like an abandoned western movie set–
why can I remember something like that?
–complete with hitching posts and watering troughs. Most of the buildings were weathered planks or split logs, with stone foundations and wooden shutters instead of windows.
 

      
Other than their captors, the only other face she saw was that of a young man behind a window with iron bars. He couldn't have been much over twenty, if that, yet the sign in front of the building clearly identified the small stone structure as the local jail.
Definitely a western movie.

      
Sofie swallowed hard and looked back over her shoulder again at the young prisoner's forlorn expression and shaggy blond hair. He should be in college, playing football and joining a fraternity.

      
Even allowing for her amnesia, nothing about Redemption seemed logical. And she suspected it still wouldn't, even if her memory returned this very instant.

      
She was tired and hungry, and her head ached. The aspirin in her pocket had melted hours ago from the drenching rain. Maybe Father Salazar had more.

      
But her physical woes were the least of her problems. She was frightened. Terrified. She didn't know herself, or anyone else in the world. She didn't even know what she looked like. And unfortunately, no one here knew her.
 

      
"The doc's house couldn't hold all the patients, so we took over the schoolhouse," Zeke said, as he and Ab paused before a long, low building. "Doc Wilson'll be pleased to have some help."
 
He inclined his head toward the door.

      
Sighing, Sofie summoned every ounce of strength she could muster. Ab opened the door and she hesitated for only a moment, then walked into the dim, stifling interior. She felt, rather than saw, Father Salazar's presence behind her.

      
A tall slender man wearing a vest with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows quickly approached them. His expression was stern as he stopped before them, glared at their escort, and yanked off his glasses. "I told you not to let anyone into town."

      
"I know, Doc, but they both got the mark on their arm like the Widow Fleming."
 
Ab ducked his head and his face turned bright red.
 

      
"'Sides, he be a priest and she be a sawbones," Zeke added matter-of-factly.

      
The physician turned his gaze on Sofie and curiosity replaced his earlier anger. "You're a doctor?"

      
Uncertain, Sofie shrugged. "So I'm told."

      
"I'm sorry, but either you are or you aren't."
 
The doctor sighed and shook his head. "People are dying here, and I could really use the help."
 
Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands on a towel. "By the way, I'm Roman Wilson, Redemption's only, very inadequate, doctor."

      
"Now you have one more doctor."
 
Father Salazar's calm tone took Sofie by surprise. "We were in an accident this morning and she got hit on the head. Doesn't remember anything before that. All we know is her first name is Sofie. I'm Father Salazar."
 
He thrust out his right hand.

      
After shaking hands, the doctor said, "Father, I wish we could welcome you under better circumstances, but I'm glad to hear you've both been inoculated against smallpox."

      
Dr. Wilson turned to Sofie and touched her chin with gentle fingers, tilting her head slightly to examine her injury. "Nasty bruise."
 
He dropped his hand to his side and met her gaze again, his expression gentle and filled with concern. "Any dizziness or blurred vision?"

      
"A little earlier, but not now. Just a turbo-headache."

      
"Turbo?" Dr. Wilson shook his head. "I have some headache powders in my bag."
 
He turned to face Zeke. "I was about to send for you, Zeke."

      
"She's worse?" Zeke bowed his head at the doctor's nod. "I was afeared of that."

      
The doctor placed his hand on Zeke's coat sleeve. "Go to her. Now."

      
Zeke rushed away, disappearing into the bowels of the huge, dim room. Real-life drama. Sofie felt Zeke's pain, absorbing it until her knees buckled beneath her.

      
Father Salazar and Dr. Wilson both grabbed her. With a man on each arm, she couldn't possibly fall, but her stomach lurched and burned ominously. Any moment, she'd double over with dry heaves. She needed food and some cool water.

      
"Dizzy?" Dr. Wilson asked, still holding her arm.

      
She shook her head. "Just hungry, I think."

      
Father Salazar released her arm and stepped back, allowing Dr. Wilson to support her alone. For some reason, Sofie always felt lost when Father Salazar moved away. Perhaps because he'd saved her life this morning. If not for him, she'd still be buried in that pile of rubble. He was her only link to her past.

      
"I'd best get back to my post," Ab said, leaving so quickly the door slammed shut behind him.

      
"We have soup and bread in the back room."
 
Dr. Wilson steadied Sofie. "Can you walk?"

      
"Yes."
 
Sofie drew a deep breath, dreading going any farther into the building. It seemed like a tomb–dark and airless. But keeping patients somewhat cool made more sense. Didn't it? "It's so hot in here."

      
"Sweating the fevers."
 
Dr. Wilson shrugged. "I'm afraid that's about all we can do at this point. It makes me feel so useless. If only..."

      
"How many cases do you have?" Father Salazar mopped his head with a handkerchief.

      
"Too many. Eleven have died and twenty-three more are in here. Dying."
 
The doctor lowered his chin, then looked up at Sofie, his expression pleading. "Tell me, is there anything new about the treatment of smallpox that I should know?"