Dangerous Heart (7 page)

Then it hit him. He felt stupid for not anticipating her move. His feet made quick steps toward the supply tent, half-expecting to see the guard knocked out on the ground. When he arrived, however, he stopped short at the sight of Nate standing dutifully, rifle over shoulder, guarding the tent.

“Doc.” Nate inclined his head. “Come to see your patient?”

Grant nodded. He pushed his hat higher on his head with two fingers. “Has anyone else tried to see him tonight?”

“Nope. Not since you patched him up and left yourself earlier. Why?”

“No reason. And yeah, I've come to check on him.”

“You go right on ahead.” He moved toward the flap to open it for Grant, then he looked up. “You don't got to worry about him going for you. I tied his hands and feet together so he couldn't attack anyone.”

Grant's eyes narrowed as he digested the words. “You did what?”

“Tied up the prisoner.”

Grant fought hard not to punch that pleased look off Nate's face. Instead, he peered closer, leaving no question in his stern expression and firm tone that he was less than satisfied with the news.

“By whose authority did you tie up a prisoner you were instructed only to guard? You weren't supposed to enter the tent, let alone initiate contact.”

Nate's grin faded. “I—I thought…that is, I thought I'd be able to guard him better if he couldn't jump me the second my back was turned.”

“The man has a broken arm, and judging from the size of the knot he received falling off his horse, I'd say he's got a concussion. Sleep is going to be on his agenda tonight. Trust me, he's in no shape to get the jump on anyone.”

“Well, I'm truly sorry, Doc. I didn't know. But I was careful of that arm and tried not to hurt him. He stretched the other one over so I could tie them together.”

“That's very decent of you,” Grant muttered, sarcasm dripping off the words. “I'll be going inside now. Do not tie up my patient again.”

“Yes sir.”

Grant hated to cause a panic, but Nate would have to be isolated now that he'd been exposed to cholera.

“Go to your tent,” he instructed.

Nate frowned. “Sir?”

“That boy is ill, and you've exposed yourself. Get to your tent and watch for stomach ailments.”

Nate didn't argue, which was a mercy.

Grant clapped the young man's shoulder. “Go on now.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grant slipped inside, relief filled every inch of him. Ginger lay next to her brother, her hand resting on his unbroken arm. He grinned at Buddy's unfettered arms and legs. Obviously Ginger had taken the liberty of removing his bindings.

Good! Grant couldn't even imagine the sort of pain that poor boy had endured. The position alone would have been excruciating. Nate was an idiot. Grant intended to discuss putting him on livestock detail instead of placing him as guard over anything.

Knowing that Ginger was safe was enough for Grant. He started to duck back outside, but a slight shiver tremored through her body. Even in sleep, she felt the cold. He took a horse blanket from the corner of the tent and opened it wide. Tentatively, he draped it across her body. As much as he tried not to, he couldn't help but note the soft curve of her hip as she lay on her side. Swallowing hard, he forced his gaze away from her figure and to her face. Then he caught his breath as he met her open eyes, flashing angrily.

She shot up to a sitting position. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Covering you up. You were shivering.”

The anger left her face. “Oh.”

“What are you doing in here?”

Once again, her eyes flashed. “I came to check on my brother, and it's a good thing I did. How dare you tie his hands and feet together?” Her bottom lip trembled. “You're
supposed to help people. Instead, you hurt him.” Grant had never seen her on the verge of tears.

“Don't you have anything to say for yourself?” Ginger demanded. “Well, I cut him loose, and no one is going to tie him up again. I wouldn't treat a buzzard that way, let alone a boy.”

“I agree, Ginger,” he said gently. “I'm not the one that tied him up. Nate did. And believe me, I just gave him a sound piece of my mind for doing it too. It won't happen again.”

She stopped and her face contorted as it tried to match up her expressions with her rapidly changing emotions. But all she could muster was, “Oh.”

“Toni was worried,” he said, hunkering down so that he met her eye to eye where she sat, the blanket still covering the lower half of her body. “She came and woke me up to find you.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry her, but I had to spend more time with my brother. Make sure he wasn't afraid.”

The words touched his heart. He'd rarely seen a tender side of Ginger, and yet this was the second time in one day that he'd witnessed it. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow.

“I just wondered how someone as ornery as you could be so nice to your brother.”

“Insult me all you want,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I'm not leaving Buddy. And as long as you force him to sleep in the supply tent, I'm sleeping out here with him. We're family, and we stick together.”

“There's no earthly reason that I can think of that would make it a bad decision.”

Her expression took a second to slide from haughty to surprised. “Really?” She smiled.

Grant found himself responding with a returning smile. “I think it would be fine. And probably a good idea to have someone looking out for him since you've already been exposed.”

A yawn stretched her mouth. He didn't blame her for being exhausted. After all, here it was after midnight, and she had awakened early to the outlaw raid. She had to get up extra early in the morning for water detail, so he should let her get to bed.

“Since you're safe and sound, I suppose I'll go back to bed myself.” He gave her a pointed look. “That is, after I let Toni know you're fine. You really shouldn't tell her you're going to take care of private business and then not come back for two hours.”

Ginger's eyes widened. “I didn't think…I just assumed she'd be asleep. She could barely keep her eyes from closing when I left.”

“She woke up and was worried sick about you. When you live in a group like this, you have to be considerate of other people.”

“I am considerate! Don't I always get the firewood and always give Toni the best meat even before I take it to Miss Sadie to divvy up the rest?”

“You're good to Toni. No one would doubt that you love her like a sister.”

“Okay, then…”

“For mercy sake,” came a weak voice from the pallet.
“He's saying when you leave, let people know where you're going so they don't worry.”

“Well, I'm not deaf, am I? I know what he said.”

Grant took steps toward the pallet. Might as well take a look at the boy since he was awake. Scooting back to allow him room, Ginger stayed close enough that Grant felt her presence a little more acutely than he wished for. One thing was for sure: he didn't want to feel the feelings he had for Ginger. She was arrogant and rough, but something about her loyalty and softness showed a heart that could be touched. That part of her fascinated him and made him want to know her better.

“Are they keeping me locked up?”

Ginger's expression softened, and she captured Grant's gaze in a look that conveyed her worry. Obviously, the boy didn't realize how sick he was. Ginger took the cloth from the wash basin and wiped it across his glistening brow. “Of course you're not a prisoner. Once Blake sees you're not going to try anything, he'll let you go.”

Ginger stood over Grant's shoulder blocking the light from the lantern hanging on the other side of the tent.

“Move back, Ginger,” Grant said. The girl was absolutely hovering.

A quick examination showed the boy to be in the same condition as earlier that night. Stifling a yawn, Grant stood. “As far as his wounds go, I think he just needs to keep resting as much as possible. His body will heal. It'll just take some time.” He looked down at Buddy. “How's the pain?”

“Bad, Doc.”

Grant nodded. “I'll be right back with some laudanum. That should help. If nothing else, you'll sleep. But now, I want you to take some quinine. It'll fight the cholera.”

Grant walked across the tent, keenly aware of Ginger's presence as she walked with him. “I want to talk to you,” she said.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Outside.”

“Then let's go.”

“Buddy,” she said. “I'm going to have a talk with Grant. I'll be back.”

He led Ginger away from the tent. Nate's brows scrunched together at the sight of Ginger. “How'd you get in there?”

Ginger scowled at him. “I tossed a few rocks, and you thought someone was walking and went to take a look.”

That did it. Grant was definitely talking to Blake about that man. “Nate, go back to your position.”

He led Ginger away from the tent. Out of earshot, he turned to her. “What can I do for you, Ginger?”

“Is Buddy really going to be fine?”

“I'm not God. I hope your brother will recover. Cholera is a scary disease.”

She let out a breath, as lines appeared between her eyes. “What are we going to do if this spreads? Buddy will never forgive himself if he causes other folks to get sick.”

“Let's just pray and hope for the best.” He reached forward and rested his palm on her shoulder. “God is faithful. He knows what He's doing.”

Ginger's face softened and she nodded. “I guess any God
that can help you turn a baby and save Little Sam can take care of my brother.”

“God is sovereign, Ginger. We have to trust Him, even when His plans and actions don't seem to make sense to our human minds.”

In a beat, her face hardened. “Don't tell me God would save one life and take another. Little Sam might be a baby, but my brother isn't much more than a child himself. You know he wants to be a doctor like you?”

“I didn't know. Hopefully he'll have that chance.”

“I hope so, Grant. I just don't think I could bear to lose another brother.” Her demeanor suddenly changed, and she shook off his hand. “Just make sure you try to save this one.”

Before Grant could answer, the sound of Buddy's retching reached them. Ginger didn't wait to say goodbye, and Grant didn't blame her. She slipped quickly into the tent and Grant followed. As he helped hold Buddy over the pail, Grant thought back to her last words. “Just make sure you try to save this one.” This one what? He made a mental note to question her about the comment. Because it sounded, for all he was worth, as though Ginger had just accused him of something.

“I say we take those that ain't sick and move on.”

Grant watched to see what Blake would do in this situation that was quickly becoming volatile. Barnabas Shewmate was typically an even-tempered young man, but his outburst spoke of fear—panic, even.

Blake stood on the flap of his wagon, standing tall enough so that all the folks that had attended the meeting could see and hear. He raised both hands for silence. “Now, listen up. We can't chance spreading this. We'll go ahead and travel three more days and push as hard as we can. But we'll be too close to Fort Boise to risk any travel after that until this thing runs its course.”

“So we're sitting ducks for cholera or Indians or outlaws to just pick us off?” Barnabas yelled. “I'm taking my wife and leaving after tomorrow. The rest of you can stay behind.” He glared at Blake. “You told us when we signed on with this outfit that we'd be in Oregon by now. If we wait any longer, we're going to be stuck in the mountains this winter. And I ain't chancing my family starving to death or worse.”

“I'm goin' with Barnabas,” Floyd Packer spoke up. “Listen, I don't want to cause trouble, but I say those of us that want to move on should do it now. If we wait another day, we might end up sick.”

Grant moved forward and climbed onto the wagon next to Blake. “Listen, folks. If you've already contracted cholera, you won't know for a few more hours. Maybe a full day. Some of you have already come to me this morning complaining of stomach ailments. I can't confirm cholera in anyone yet, except the young man in the supply tent. But the fact is, if we all stay together, we can contain this thing.”

“That's another thing I want to know,” an older man spoke up. “Where'd that fella come from?”

“The scouts found him wounded in the woods.”

“They shoulda left him in the woods, then.”

“He's just a boy, people. We don't leave human beings to die in the woods.”

Barnabas lifted his voice again. “Better him than us. I say we leave him and move on without him.”

The sounds of panic rippled through the group. Grant couldn't help but be relieved that Ginger was off gathering water and couldn't hear this. He hated to think of what she'd have to say to these men. It wouldn't be good, and it certainly wouldn't help the situation any.

Blake raised his hands for silence, but it took a few minutes for people to calm down and pay attention. “We aren't the first wagon train to deal with cholera. Doc has a quinine regimen that should kill the disease if we get to it quickly enough. But if you leave, you'll be at the mercy of the sick
ness, without a doctor's care.” He looked down at Floyd. “Do you want to risk your children's lives?”

The man averted his gaze.

“Now I suggest everyone get prepared. We'll cross the river today, and it's not going to be easy. Let's pack up. We'll leave within the hour.”

Grant breathed a sigh of relief as the disgruntled group began to disperse. He turned to Blake. “Looks like we'll have to keep an eye on Shewmate. He could cause trouble.”

Blake nodded, his lips pressed into a grim line. “How's the boy?”

“Worse. If he pulls through today, he'll likely live. Otherwise, we'll be burying him by morning.”

“We'll keep him in prayer.” Blake shook his head. “I just hope this doesn't spread.”

Grant nodded. He, too, prayed Buddy would be the only case of cholera. But he knew that once the disease made an appearance, it usually didn't stop until it blazed a path of destruction lined with graves.

 

This river was the most challenging crossing so far. By the time the travelers made camp, they were only thanking God that no one had drowned. But it had been an exhausting day for Ginger, as she fought the oxen to get them across the busy water and worried about Buddy. She would have liked nothing better than to be part of the hunting detail. But Blake was sticking to his guns, and she was stuck on water detail.

Two filled pails of water hung from the yoke across Gin
ger's aching shoulders. “I'm nothing but a pack animal,” she grumbled to Toni and Fannie, who also carried water for the camp.

“Stop complaining, Ginger,” Toni chided. “We do this every single day, while you ride and hunt and do all the things you enjoy. It won't hurt you to do this for the time being. You know full well Grant will eventually talk Blake into putting you back with the scouts. So hush up and take your punishment like an adult instead of being so childish.”

“Toni's right,” Fannie said, her breathing coming in short bursts as she struggled under the weight of the yoke she carried. “You're mighty lucky Blake didn't order you out of the train. We're almost to Fort Boise, you know.”

Ginger shrugged. “I'd have just followed the wagon train anyway. He'd eventually have let me just come back.”

Fannie laughed. “You're probably right. Isn't she, Toni?”

Toni joined her in laughter.

“What's so funny about that?” She could hear the testiness in her voice, but mercy…why did they always laugh at her? They could show a little restraint, considering how worried she was about Buddy. It was touch and go right now. She ached to get finished with the water and go to him.

“Oh, Ginger. Don't be upset with us. It's just that Blake didn't want to let me and Toni join the wagon train either,” Fannie said. “As a matter of fact, he downright refused us. We had to follow for a while before he spotted us. He gave in, but he wasn't too happy about it.”

Ginger grinned as she grasped the irony.

“Seriously, though,” Fannie said. “Don't push Blake too far, Ginger. He's a good man, but his good nature and adherence to my friendship with you will only go so far.”

Ginger didn't want to put Fannie in a position to be at odds with Blake. She remembered fighting between her own parents and would never want to be the cause of Fannie and Blake arguing. “I'll be better from now on, but the thing I don't understand is why he never wants me to ride out from camp, but he doesn't mind if Two Feathers or Grant or any of the other scouts leave by themselves. I have to have a partner any time I want to ride away from camp. Even if it's not too far off. It doesn't seem fair to me. Especially when I could spot danger and take care of myself as well or better than any of the men, except maybe Sam and Blake.”

“And Grant,” Toni said.

“Well, I don't know about that.”

Toni stopped beside a large rock and eased the yoke from her neck, careful not to spill any water. “I have to take a break.”

“Thank goodness,” Fannie said, following Toni's lead. “I was ready to stop ten minutes ago.”

“Well, if you two are going to stop, I reckon I'd best do it, too.” Secretly, she was also exhausted, but she'd rather die than admit her weakness.

Toni settled onto the rock and turned to Ginger. “I think it's only smart that you have to have a partner in order to leave camp. It's not like Blake gave the order just to confine you. He did it to keep you safe.”

Ginger plopped down on the ground and stretched her legs. “I can take care of myself just fine. How does he think
I survived alone all those weeks before I met up with your wagon train at Fort Laramie?”

“That's not the point. Once you joined our wagon train, Blake became responsible for you.”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Blake Tanner isn't responsible for me. I am.”

Toni gave a heavy sigh. “You're just being stubborn.”

“I am not.”

“You are too.”

“Ladies,” Fannie's voice interrupted. Concern filled Ginger at the weakness of Fannie's normally strong, sure voice.

Toni and Ginger exchanged a glance then turned toward their friend. “Are you okay?” Toni asked.

Panic widened Fannie's eyes and she shoved up from the rock and raced a few yards away before hunching over and retching.

“She's got the cholera!” Ginger said, hearing her fear.

“Ginger, hush,” Toni whispered. She went to Fannie and rubbed her friend's back until she was spent. Toni dipped the edge of her apron in one of the buckets of water and wiped Fannie's face. “Does Blake know?” she asked softly.

Ginger frowned. “Does Blake know what? That she has the cholera?”

Fannie shook her head, ignoring Ginger completely. “I wanted to be sure first.”

“Sure about
what?”

Toni shot her a frown. “For heaven's sake, hush a minute. Fannie's in the family way.”

Toni sounded so sure of herself, but Ginger wasn't convinced. She'd seen enough of this sort of thing—this sick
ness—over the last few hours that the thought of a baby just didn't seem likely.

“Well, how does she know it's not the cholera?”

“I've been sick like this for a week,” Fannie said, sending her a wan smile. “Cholera would have already run its course whether I survived it or not.”

Shocked into silence, Ginger watched her two friends as they sat next to each other on the rocks. Fannie's eyes glowed, and Toni's smile stretched across her whole face. For the life of her, Ginger couldn't see what in the world there was to be so happy about. Bringing a baby into the world when they still had two months of hard travel ahead, not to mention the real work beginning once they reached Oregon—it just didn't make sense.

“What in blazes was Blake thinking, letting this happen? You've barely been married any time at all.”

She hadn't really meant to speak aloud, but now there was no taking it back. Guiltily, she slanted a glance at the two women. Fannie's glare demanded an explanation.

“Well…I mean, wouldn't it be smarter to wait until you get to your homestead and actually build a house for the little tyke to live in?”

“I didn't exactly plan for it to happen.” Fannie's cheeks bloomed with color. “The Lord is in control of when a life leaves or enters the world.”

“Fannie's right, Ginger.” Toni gave a sigh and rolled her eyes at Ginger. “God doesn't typically follow our timing. And obviously He felt like a new baby for Blake and Fannie is a good thing, even if it's not the most convenient time.”

“Maybe so,” Ginger said. She pulled the yoke back onto her shoulders, sloshing water on the ground, which only added to her irritation. She shook her head at Fannie. “Maybe you should ask God to share the news with Blake, because I sure wouldn't want to be the one to do it.”

“Ginger!” Toni planted her hands firmly on her hips. “That wasn't a very considerate thing to say.”

“What? It's just the truth.”

“No. It's the truth as you see it. Fannie is nervous enough as it is without you adding to her worry.”

“It's okay, Toni,” Fannie said glumly. “She's right. Blake's not going to be happy about this. Especially right now, when he's so worried about this cholera getting out of hand.”

“Well, Blake knows where babies come from,” Toni snapped in a way Ginger hadn't really seen before. “If he didn't want to chance a child coming in to the world, he shouldn't have taken his pleasure.”

Ginger's face burned at Toni's candid speech. “If you're going to talk like that I'm going back to camp. Folk are likely waking up and ready for their water by now, anyways.”

“We'll be there in a second.”

Ginger hesitated. “Don't carry that,” she said to Fannie. “I'll take mine to camp and be back for yours.”

“Oh, no. I'll manage.”

Toni placed a hand on Fannie's arm. “She's right. You can't carry water. You'll have to switch to a different chore. This one is too heavy for someone in your condition.”

“I suppose you're right.” Fannie's smile was weak as she looked at Ginger. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

Ginger warmed under the approving nod she received from Toni.

Still, she wouldn't want to be in Fannie's shoes. According to Toni, and even Grant, God had life firmly in his hand. But Ginger wasn't so sure. Buddy was growing weaker as the cholera raged through his body. Fear gripped Ginger at the very thought that her brother might not make it. He just had to. That was all there was to it. Was she really supposed to be alone in the world?

She had plans to make—plans to take Buddy and hightail it west where they could live the life Clem had always promised they'd have. Since he was gone, she would make it happen for her little brother. Clem would have wanted it this way. A smile tipped her lips at the thought. Yes, Clem would definitely have wanted her to take care of Buddy.

She'd been so wrapped up in her plot to avenge Clem's death that she hadn't even considered the need to get Buddy away from Web and the rest of the men. But she recognized the timing. She had to get her little brother away from here. Before Web did something stupid that involved her. Something she wouldn't be able to walk away from.

As soon as Buddy got well and strong again…

 

Grant noticed Ginger returning to camp, depositing her water buckets at Miss Sadie's campsite, and heading back out. Curiosity, combined with a realistic suspicion that she was going off from camp to be alone, forced him to follow her.

“Ginger!” he called out as they cleared the wagons. “Where do you think you're you going?”

She stopped short and turned to face him as he caught up to her. “To get water. This is my punishment, you know. Why aren't you taking care of my brother instead of bothering me?”

“Miss Sadie is sitting with Buddy for now. I'll help get him loaded into your wagon as soon as you get back from your chores.” Ginger's brown eyes flashed in the early morning sun and her face softened. The smile disarmed him. “I'd appreciate that.”

“My pleasure.”

She took in his gaze for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “I best get back to my chores so we can get Buddy ready to go.”