The Prospect: The Malloy Family, Book 10 (3 page)

The man went to a basin on the table and washed off the pliers and his hands. “I am. Name’s Frank Drummond.”

“I’ve got a woman who needs help. She’s running a fever and has belly pain.” Declan didn’t want to reveal what she’d been babbling. It would make him blush to remember it, foolish as that was.

“Where is this woman?” Drummond dried his hands on a clean towel.

“She’s with the wagon train, outside the fort.”

“Hm, is her belly pain sharp or dull?” He put his hands on his hips and scowled.

“I don’t know.” Declan gestured to the door. “I need you to come. Now.”

Drummond stood there and raised one brow, his spectacles glinting in the sunlight coming through the open door. “I used to teach school back in Philadelphia. I know your type, young man. I won’t walk into a trap no matter what story you’ve concocted.”

Declan didn’t want to react, but he flinched. “I’m trying to help a friend, Mr. Drummond. Nothing more.”

The other man studied him for a beat before he nodded. “All right then, that’s a worthy cause. I would have your name, though, and your promise this is not a sham.”

Surprised, Declan blew out a breath. “My name is Declan Callahan and my friend is Josephine Chastain. She’s a special lass and right now she’s powerful sick.”

Drummond fussed around gathering a few things, and then he turned to Declan. “Lead the way, Mr. Callahan.”

Pleased he’d convinced the man to help Jo, Declan followed. His gut twisted into knots thinking about what was wrong with her and hoping like hell this strange bald man could help her.

Chapter Two

Jo was itchy all over, but her arms refused to move so she could scratch. She was hot too. Hot enough to make her sweat profusely. If she was lucky, there was no one close by enough to smell her. Nothing worse than a lady who smelled badly.

“Come back to me,
cherie
.” Her mother’s voice sounded in her ear, full of worry and fear. If Maman was worried, something was very wrong.

Jo forced her eyes open, squinting and tearing at the bright light. She was surprised to see Mr. Avery, her father, Isabelle and Charlotte hovering over her. More shocking was to find she lay prone on the wagon and her face and neck were wet.

“What has happened?” Her voice was rusty as an old door.

Maman smiled shakily. “You are sick, cherie.” Her gloved hand cupped Jo’s face. “We are waiting on a physician.”

Sick? She never got sick. Her constitution was hearty, more so than any of her sisters. How could she be ill now?

Declan appeared in her line of vision, his scowl deep as the frown on his face. “I found the medic.”

An older man walked up to her; his balding pate and kind smile made her feel at ease. “Hello there, young lady. I’m Frank Drummond.”

“Josephine Chastain.” She blinked as her eyes burned from the sun. “I do not believe I am ill.”

Pain ripped through her abdomen and she gasped. She clutched her belly and prayed she wouldn’t embarrass herself in front of all these people.

“Maman, I need to...”

“Everyone away except for Mr. Drummond.” Her mother shooed away the crowd and returned to Jo’s side.

“Have you had diarrhea?” Mr. Drummond put on a pair of gloves before he probed her belly, sending additional shards of pain through her.

To her mortification, she messed her drawers. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Maman cleaned her up, protecting her from everyone’s view. Mr. Drummond waited patiently, giving her his back, for which she was very grateful. After Maman finished, he returned to examine Josephine.

“I guess that answers that question, hm?” He checked her forehead, her neck and her fingers and toes. “How long has the fever been going on?”

Maman wrung her hands. “I did not notice she was sick.” She started to take off her gloves and hat, as though she’d just realized she still wore them.

Mr. Drummond stopped her. “No, don’t take them off. It’s safer if you keep them on.”

“Do you know what it is?” Maman looked desperate.

“I believe I do. Let’s go speak to your wagon master.”

“No, I deserve to hear this.” Jo wasn’t about to let anyone make a decision or know about her illness before she did.

Mr. Drummond frowned, but he nodded. “Fair enough.”

At Maman’s signal, the group returned with concerned expressions. Declan hovered in the background, behind everyone. The medic addressed them.

“I believe Miss Chastain has typhoid.”

The word “typhoid” fell like an anvil in a still pond. Jo was terrified, knowing what she remembered of the disease. Her mother had helped with an outbreak the year before, where at least a dozen people died.

“Are you certain,
monsieur
?” Maman’s voice shook.

“Fairly sure. I think you probably realized it too. The rose spots on her chest and neck confirmed it for me.” Mr. Drummond sounded calm, as though he wasn’t talking about Jo’s possible death sentence.

“She can’t continue on this wagon train.” Buck Avery’s pronouncement shocked her more than the diagnosis.

“Impossible.” Maman shook her head. “I will take care of her and she will recover quickly.”

Buck shook his head. “Nope. I can’t allow it. I have a couple hundred pioneers here counting on me to keep them safe. Typhoid spreads fast. Everyone who has touched her can’t continue on this wagon train either.”

“Mrs. Chastain wore gloves.” Mr. Drummond pointed out. “Did anyone else touch her?”

No one spoke until Charlie piped up. “Mr. Callahan did.”

Jo watched the pained expression on Declan’s face. He’d touched her? When and how?

“He carried her back from the prairie. She was walking to nowhere when he saved her. Then he checked her forehead when he brought her back to the wagon. He wasn’t wearing gloves.” Charlie’s face was white as a sheet, likely as scared as Jo was over the diagnosis. “He’s the one who sent me for cold water.”

She didn’t remember Declan helping her nor did she remember him touching her. Maman looked surprised, then frowned at him.

“You did not speak up and tell us, Mr. Callahan.” Maman sounded calm but Jo heard the undertones in her voice.

“I didn’t want any trouble. I only wanted to help your daughter. She was about to disappear into the prairie and I couldn’t let that happen.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground, as though he had something to be ashamed of.

“Thank you, Decl—I mean, Mr. Callahan.” Jo was grateful if no one else was.

“That presents a problem.” Mr. Drummond glanced between them. “This young man has been exposed. We’ll need to set up a quarantine.”

Everyone spoke at once, yelling over each other until Jo could hardly distinguish between the voices. She tried to stop them, but she couldn’t summon the energy to make herself heard. Declan was the one who saved her. Again.

“Ladies and gents, ye all need to stop your caterwauling!” His booming voice cut through the cacophony.

Her parents stared while Charlie’s mouth fell open. Buck scowled at his employee.

“Now see here—”

“No,
you
see here. I’ll take Miss Chastain to the quarantine and you can take your wagon train forward tomorrow.” He looked at her parents. “I promise to take care of her until the quarantine passes, then bring her safely to you in Oregon.”

Jo was about to tell him not to take charge of her life, but it was a reasonable, logical course of action. She couldn’t think of a better one herself.

“Monsieur Drummond, the quarantine period is three to four weeks,
oui
?” Maman always looked for all the information before making a decision.

“About that, yep. Have to wait for the fever to break, and that can take some time.” Mr. Drummond spoke as though he wasn’t sentencing her to a month of pain and discomfort. She knew typhoid could kill and Declan was signing up for his own hell watching over her.

Why would he do that?

“I cannot leave my daughter in the care of strangers.” Maman didn’t mention the family history with Declan, but Jo knew that was on her mind.

“If you stay with her, we won’t wait for you.” Mr. Avery folded his arms across his chest. “We have to beat the snow, and that means we leave tomorrow.”

Maman’s gaze fell on Jo, and she saw the terror and turmoil in her green eyes. Jo couldn’t let her parents give up their dream in Oregon for her. She had to make the decision.

“I will stay here. You will go.” Jo had made up her mind and she wasn’t about to change it.

“We can’t possibly do that,
cherie
.” Papa shook his head.

“Yes, you can. I can send word to Frankie and John after the quarantine is over.” Jo knew her sister and new husband wouldn’t want a boarder when they didn’t have a house yet, but they would take her in.

“Ah, you ask too much.” Maman’s voice was thick with unshed tears. “Do not force me to choose between Oregon and my child.”

“I am a woman grown, not a child. I have made the choice, not you.” Jo’s own throat closed with emotion. When her parents left, it could be a year before she saw them again. She’d never been separated from them before. It would be difficult, but she would survive. They had turned her into a smart woman and she would do them proud.

“Please.” Maman pressed her forehead into her hands.

Jo swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. “I will recover and I will see you again.”

“Do you have room for them at the fort? I don’t know what you need for quarantine, but I expect we need to take care of it right quick.” The normally nice Mr. Avery was pushing her out of his wagon train with both his boots planted on her behind.

“There is a small shack in the corner of the fort, used by one of the Indian women when she comes to sell buffalo robes. I can’t speak for the cleanliness of it, but nothing that soap won’t cure. It’s small, but it’ll do temporarily.” Mr. Drummond glanced at Declan. “Carry her and we’ll get it fixed up real quick.”

Everyone hopped to work, grabbing bucket, soap and supplies. Jo’s eyes stung with unshed tears as the unfairness of her situation hit her. She had caught typhoid and could possibly die. To save her family, and the wagon train, she was about to live in a quarantined shack for the next month with the man who had kidnapped her sister. Not to mention the man she fantasized about every night when she slept.

God could not have thought of a bigger test of her strength and fortitude.

She wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. No sir. She would do what she needed to survive. Declan walked over and held out his arms, waiting for her permission. She closed her eyes and willed herself to be strong.

“I am ready.”

He lifted her with a gentleness she didn’t expect. Jo leaned into his shoulder, her body shaking from fever and pain. It was almost too much. Tears nearly escaped without permission. Jo had to push her mind to think of something else.

“Charlie, can you be sure to bring my books and clothes?” She could last through anything if she had some books to read.

“Hell yes, I’ll get your things.” Charlie was already running away as she spoke.

Jo managed a shaky smile. Her youngest sister was a character and would be missed. If she had touched Jo when she was contagious, her sister might have been quarantined too. Jo was grateful to Declan. He had saved her family and her life. It surprised her.

“Why did you do it?” She met his gaze, her voice low enough only he could hear her.

He shrugged one massive shoulder. “I like you, Jo. You’re smart and you talked to me.”

She stared at him, flummoxed by his strange response. “You might have given up your life for me.”

“Would’ve been worth it. It’s not much of a life to lose.” His tone was flat, but she had no doubt he believed what he said.

She couldn’t imagine feeling that way and told herself after she was well, she would find out what led Declan Callahan to a life of darkness. A darkness so deep a cloud hung over him, dousing any light that might be shed through it.

They entered the fort, but Jo kept her face turned to Declan’s shoulder. Although things were a blur of color and sound, she was her mother’s daughter and knew how diseases were spread. She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else contracting typhoid, even Declan, the warm, strong presence she clung to.

She managed to make her mouth work. “You need to wear gloves. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I never get sick, lass. I’ve a hearty constitution.” He kept walking, following Mr. Drummond through the crowd. She could see people’s feet and noted they all moved out of the way.

Jo was mortified even as a fresh wave of pain burned her belly. She was afraid she wouldn’t make it to a chamber pot or bucket in time. Shame coursed through her, but she had to say something to him.

“Declan, I need, ah.” She clutched her belly and blew out a pained breath. “I need a chamber pot.”

“Shit, hold on.” He broke into a run, sprinting across the fort. She focused on keeping every muscle in her body tense. “Is this it, Drummond?”

“Ayup.” The medic’s voice was far away, but it was enough.