Claudine Madison’s irregular home with all its redundant rooms finally found a purpose for the well. It quickly became a staging area for the town efforts to aid the sick. Townspeople brought quilts and made pallets on the wood floors, while the ailing were taken to the church and bedded down. Ten people were currently ill, some sicker than others. Women cooked and carried food and helped dish up nourishing broth and force-feed hot sweet tea. Sadie and Adele, deemed saints now, kept Tate away from the ill and worked long into the night.
Audrey wiped her forehead with the hem of her apron. It seemed unbearably hot in the church sanctuary this morning. Between trying to keep up with the parlor work and the ailing, she felt like a puppet. A very tired puppet. Lack of sleep and overwork sapped her strength.
Josh Redlin came through the front door this morning and threaded his way through the room, speaking to the ill. This had to be hard on him too. Responsibility for the well-being of every family on the train must weigh heavily on him. Now he approached the table where the women washed dishes. Willow and Audrey greeted him, but Copper turned her head and ignored his entrance. Audrey sighed. Copper and Josh had flared at each other more than once over the past week, and yesterday she’d declared she wasn’t speaking to the man. If only. The moment one or the other crossed the drawn line, the temporary ceasefire would shatter.
“Good morning, ladies.” Josh leaned against a corner of the table. “Too bad the church doesn’t have large enough cooking facilities. The wood stove won’t hold all the pots and it’s hard to carry food back and forth from the Madisons’. Anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, you can carry these pots out to the wagon.” Willow indicated the stack of clean kettles. “I think we’re through in here.”
“Be glad to. Appreciate what you’re doing to help out.” With one hand, Josh picked up three of the cast-iron kettles that formerly held broth. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” Copper swung to face him and Audrey clamped her teeth. “You can get that quarantine lifted so I can leave for Beeder’s Cove. It’s thoughtless to keep us tied to Thunder Ridge with no way in or out.”
He leveled a straight look at her. “I didn’t impose the quarantine. If you don’t like it, talk to Dr. Smith—or better yet, Horace Padget. It was his idea.”
“You could persuade the doctor to lift the quarantine.”
His jaw set. “No, ma’am, I couldn’t. Horace Padget seems to be running the show, and I can’t talk to the man because of his wife’s fear that her family will be affected. I’m not about to go up against Padget just so you can leave.”
Copper faced him, hands on her hips. “It’s not about me. Other wagon trains have to detour around Thunder Ridge, which is what you should have done. Then we wouldn’t be in this fix.”
“And a lot more people would be dead. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not. What a crass thing to suggest.”
Josh smirked. “Crass? I’m being nice, Miss Whatever-Your-Name-Is.”
“You can’t see past the end of your nose, Mr. Rude. I’ve never met a more ill-tempered man.”
He politely swept off his hat with his free hand. “And you have the disposition of a rattler with the hives. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll carry these pots back to Judge Madison’s.” He clamped his hat back on his head and marched toward the door with Copper right behind him, berating him with every step she took.
Willow shook her head. “Why do you suppose she’s so hateful to that man? It isn’t his fault people got sick. I truly believe he did the only thing he could.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but they took an instant dislike to each other.” Audrey wiped the table with a damp cloth, and then dried her hands. “I’ve never known Copper to be so short-tempered with anyone.”
“Particularly with a man with Redlin’s appeal,” Willow mused. “He’s handsome, has strong moral values. There’s nothing about him offensive.”
“Nothing that I’ve found,” Audrey agreed.
On the way home they passed the banker’s house sitting on top of the hill. Cordelia was on the porch with a broom, and from the volume of her voice she was upset about something. “And don’t you come back again.”
“Stop!” Audrey ordered. “That’s Tate. He must have slipped away from Adele and Sadie’s eye.” She cupped her hands to her mouth. “Tate Gray, you come down here!”
The boy moseyed down the hill, eyes downcast as he approached. “Cordelia’s bun’s too tight this morning.”
This child was spending entirely too much time around mill workers. Audrey glanced past him to see the woman discard the broom and charge down the hill like an ill-tempered bull.
Pulling Tate behind her skirt, Audrey braced. “Is there a problem, Cordelia?”
“That…that hooligan won’t stay away from here. Shows up three or four times a day…trying to infect my Junior.”
“I am sorry. Adele and Sadie are supposed to be watching him but they have their hands full with the well guests at the Judge’s house…”
Cordelia went on as though she hadn’t heard a word. “I swear I sweep him off this porch and he’s back before I can get inside. Then I go to the root cellar, and there he is with Junior playing with the canned goods—stacking the glass jars to the ceiling. It’s enough to put a body under.”
“I just want to play,” Tate explained. “I like Junior. Why can’t he play with me?”
“I’m not about to let every ragtag and bobtail that comes along infect my son. Not with that terrible epidemic striking down people left and right,” Cordelia spluttered, eyes fixed on Tate. “The very idea of that child coming here, when he’s been told to stay home.”
“If she doesn’t want Junior to play in the cellar, I could go inside and play,” Tate bargained. He turned to meet Audrey’s eyes. “Her face is pretty red, ain’t it?”
Cordelia drew herself up, looking down her nose. “It’s disgraceful. Have you ever heard the like? That child needs to be taught manners.” She turned and marched back up the hill, slamming the front door behind her.
Tate huddled against Audrey’s skirt. He gazed up at her with hurt eyes. “Why doesn’t Junior’s mother like me?”
“Oh, I’m sure she does,” Audrey began, but he interrupted her.
“No, she don’t. She makes me leave.”
Willow spoke up. “Oh, Tate, Cordelia doesn’t mean to be so rude. Sometimes you have to overlook her words.”
“Which,” Copper said, “is hard even for adults.”
Drawing him closer, Audrey said, “Tate, perhaps you should stay away from the Padgets’ house until the sickness is over. Cordelia is afraid Junior will get sick. She’s just trying to protect him. And if she doesn’t want you around here, then you should stay away.”
“I’ve been bad again.”
“No, not bad, but sometimes we need to ask God for guidance. When you know there’s something you shouldn’t do but you do it anyway, it’s wrong.”
Tate sighed. “’Pears like I just can’t win. No matter how hard I try to be good, I can’t do it. But I’ll try, Miss Pride. I’ll start praying right now, and I’ll pray for Pa too. He needs it more than me, because he’s older and bigger.”
Audrey noticed that at least Tate had called Eli Pa. She was making some headway. Her thoughts skipped back to Eli’s considerate gesture the day he sent her home from the mortuary. Perhaps she was making progress with both father and son.
The women delivered Tate into Adele and Sadie’s hands, and then climbed the stairway. “Why doesn’t anyone check on Mrs. Gray?” Audrey inquired. It seemed rather odd they’d leave the ailing woman to herself.
“She’s a quiet sort,” Willow mused. “She’s asked that we send a note before we come. Her illness makes her sleep a lot.”
“What is her illness?”
“I’m not certain. Some sort of growth in her side. She seems to be losing ground steadily.”
Audrey shook her head. How would Eli manage to care for Tate when his mother passed?
Late afternoon, Kirkland was ready to lock up for the night. Audrey already had her cape on preparing to leave when the door burst open and Copper dashed inside. “Oh, Audrey. Willow’s been hurt.”
“Willow? What happened?”
“She went with Tucker this afternoon, and while she was moving some of the stock to a drier location, she slipped and fell. One of the horses spooked and kicked her in the head.”
Audrey stared at her, stunned. “Is she…”
“She’s alive, but unconscious. Tucker carried her home. Oh, Audrey. He’s sent for the doctor.” Copper grasped Audrey’s arm, urging her out the door. “Hurry. They need us at the house.”
The women ducked their heads against the rain, running through puddles. Audrey fought back panic. Willow, hurt? She couldn’t lose Willow. The thought was too ghastly to entertain.
They reached the house, and she raced upstairs to Willow’s room. Tucker sat beside the bed, shoulders hunched, his forehead etched with worry. Audrey moved to touch his arm. “How is she?”
He shook his head. “She hasn’t come to. Why did I let her go with me? She didn’t have any business helping with the stock. I should have known better. This is my fault.”
Audrey patted his shoulder. “Now, don’t borrow trouble. She’ll surely wake up anytime now. She’s just worn out from all the work and the blow to her head. She’ll be fine.” Audrey tried to convince herself she spoke the truth, but Willow lay so still, looking so pale and lifeless. What if she didn’t wake up? But she had to. Audrey bit back tears.
Knowing it wouldn’t do to have Tucker see her upset, she went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. A knock sounded at the door, and Audrey answered to find Eli. One look was all she needed to see he was in a flaming fury. “Did you tell my son to pray for me?”
Good lands. Tate had mentioned their earlier conversation on the way home from the Padgets’.
Audrey stared at him, trying to focus. She was too worried about Willow to care what he was upset about. “I might have, why?”
“You know what he just told me? Said that when he asked the blessing that he asked God to not let me get crossways in my britches so often. Did you put that notion in his head?”
“It’s possible.” She was too weary to argue. “Are you aware Willow was hurt this afternoon?”
Apparently her question failed to register. “I want you to explain what—and why you said such a thing to Tate.” He paused. “What did you say?”
“A horse kicked Willow. She’s unconscious. Tucker’s upstairs with her. We’re all sick with worry.”
Eli paled. “I didn’t know—I was working upriver today and just got back half an hour ago. Tate caught up with me at the mill, but he didn’t mention an accident.”
“Tate is supposed to be in the house, but with all the confusion Adele and Sadie can’t keep up with him. He slips off, and in spite of everyone trying to keep an eye on him, he’s quick.”
“What’s this about Willow?”
“She’s unconscious.” Audrey blinked back tears and stepped back. “Do you want to come in?”
He entered the kitchen. “Is it okay if I go up?”
“Of course.”
He started toward the stairs then turned and looked back. “Sorry I was so uptight. Tate’s remark—it’s a minor thing. Just struck me wrong.”
Audrey nodded, and he turned and slowly climbed the stairs.
During the night, Audrey and Copper took turns sitting with Willow. It was Audrey’s turn, and Willow lay deathly still. Audrey bathed her with cool water. If only she would open her eyes. Show some sign of life. She knelt by the bedside, gripping Willow’s hand in hers. “Oh, Willow. Don’t die. Please don’t. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, and Tucker would be a broken man. He loves you so dearly. We all do.”
She knelt there for what seemed like hours, then the hand she held twitched slightly. Audrey lifted her head. Willow’s eyes were open. “You’re awake! Oh, thank God. I’ll go get Tucker…”
“Audrey?” Willow’s voice wavered. “Wait.”
“You’ve been hurt,” Audrey said gently. “But you’re going to be all right now. Just lie still…”
Willow shook her head. “Promise me.”
“Anything.” Audrey vowed, kneeling now beside the bed. “Anything, love. Just name it, and I’ll do it.”
“If something happens to me, don’t let Tucker marry Meredith Johnson.”
Audrey stared back at her, mouth open. “Meredith Johnson. Willow! How can you think of such a thing? You’ve been gravely injured and…”
Willow’s grip tightened. “Listen to me. I mean it. I want him to have a good wife, and if anything happens to me, Meredith will have him in a flash. She’s too young and too irresponsible for him, and I can’t bear the thought of him marrying anyone else but you.”
“Me!”
“Yes, you. I want you to marry Tucker if anything happens to me.” Her voice turned so weak Audrey had to bend closer to catch her words. “Promise me.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you. Don’t talk like that. Besides, Tucker won’t want me. He loves you.”
“But I could die, Audrey. The pain…Promise me.”
Audrey swallowed. How could she deny her request, but what Willow was asking was impossible. “You don’t understand. I love another man.”
Willow weakly shook her head. “You promised.”
“I know, but…”
She opened her eyes. “You love…someone? Who?”
Audrey wiped her eyes. “Eli. I love that blasted Eli.” Until that moment she hadn’t realized how much she loved him, but her feelings only grew stronger with every passing day. She could never marry another man unless Eli forever kept himself locked in an emotional vault. She covered her mouth, ashamed of her previous oath.
Willow sighed. “You could grow to love Tucker, just like I would have grown to love Silas.”
“I love Eli.” Saying the words out loud made the impasse even more hurtful. Why, God? Why did I fall in love with a man who is so unavailable? Willow’s hand relaxed, going limp. Audrey gasped. “Willow? Don’t go back to sleep—talk to me!”
The still form on the bed now slumbered. “No.” Audrey murmured. “Willow?” She rose to her feet, one hand clasped to her heart, but she detected the slight rise and fall of Willow’s chest. She was alive. Unconscious, but alive. Oh, thank you, God. Thank you.
Audrey sank back into the chair, hands clasped in her lap. Whatever tomorrow brought, at least for now, Willow was alive—and had finally woken up.
She glanced at the clock. Three A.M. Tucker should be back to check on Willow. She went downstairs to see if he’d arrived when she heard a knock at the door. She slid the lock and opened the door to see a young woman drenched to the bone, shivering. “Yes? May I help you?”
“I need help. My husband…” The woman struggled to gain control.
“Your husband?” Audrey had never seen this woman. She wasn’t part of the wagon train.
“He’s dead. Back there, in our wagon.” She pointed down the road. “He was so sick—I did everything I could…” She crumpled, dropping to her knees.
Audrey reached out to help her to her feet and into the house.
“He’s dead,” the woman repeated. “I need help moving his body…he’s too heavy. I can’t move him.”
“First let’s get you warm and then we’ll see about your husband.” Audrey led the woman to the table and hefted the teakettle, which still had hot water. “I’ll fix you a cup of tea, while you give me directions to your wagon.”
“I saw your light from the road. It’s so dark and raining so hard. I thought I’d never find anyone to help me. The road is washed out.” Her breath caught on a sob.
Audrey put her arms around the thin, heaving shoulders. “There, now. You’re safe and among friends. As soon as I get you into dry clothing I’ll find someone to help with your husband. What’s your name, dear?”
The woman wiped her eyes. “Yvonne. We’ve been on the road for a month or so, and we were doing fine until the rain hit and the roads became impassable. Then Frank took sick. I tried to care for him, but he died.”
Helping the young woman up, Audrey moved Yvonne up the stairs. One pallet remained empty.
The stricken woman dressed in dry clothing and then fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Audrey quietly went downstairs, slipped on her cape, and grabbed her slicker. Copper appeared in the doorway. “What’s happening?”
“I have to find someone to move a body. Can you watch Willow and the others?”
She nodded. “What time is it?”
“Very late.”
A dim light shone in the mill office as she made her way there, praying that someone was working late. Treacherous muddy ground made solid footing impossible and she slipped, almost going down twice.
Wiping grit off her hands, she reached the mill and shoved the front door open. Eli sat at a desk working on a sheaf of papers. He looked up when she entered, then leaped to his feet. “Willow?”
Audrey allayed his initial fear. “There’s been no change.” Leastways none he needed to hear. She repeated Yvonne’s story, and Eli shook his head. “I’ll find her husband. Go back to the house, out of the weather.”
“I’m coming with you.” She thought he would protest, but evidently he knew when to pick his fights.
“Come on then. The sooner we get started, the sooner we get back.”
The rain slacked to a heavy drizzle when they left the mill. Eli saddled a couple of horses and Audrey rode beside him, praying to find the body quickly and move it back to the icehouse before it started pouring again.
A half mile out of town they spotted the wagon mired at the side of the road. The horses stood slumped, heads hanging. They found the man’s body covered with a tarp to protect it from the rain. Indeed, Yvonne had done the best she could for him. Audrey faded briefly into Eli’s arms, and he held her gently.
“Just so much death,” she whispered as his hold tightened.
He gently released her and tied their horses to the back of the wagon, helping Audrey climb on board. He clucked to the team, and after a half hour of rocking the wagon back and forth, Eli freed the wheels and started the slow journey back. Audrey glanced over her shoulder at the covered corpse. “It seems such a waste.”
“Death usually does. It’s hard to keep faith when nothing makes sense.”
She touched his arm. “You would know about that. I realize you’ve been through so much, Eli, and I know I can’t even begin to understand how much.”
He was silent for so long that she feared that she had offended him. But he finally answered, and she could hear the pain in his voice. “I came home from the war a few months ago, expecting to find Genevieve waiting for me. Didn’t know about the boy. Didn’t know she’d died giving birth to my son. I wasn’t there to bury her.”
“You can’t continue to blame yourself.”
“I know that, but I figured she would have to bury me, if she was lucky enough to get my body back. Other men came home to their wives. I came home to a grave. It does something to a man.”
Audrey sat silently, fighting back the urge to hold him, comfort him. Eli was eaten up with grief and regret. She couldn’t intrude on his past. Not tonight when he had finally started to open up to her.
But it was a beginning, and that was what she’d prayed for. An opening, and if she let him talk, maybe the healing would begin.