“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 sickness, 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 Ginger’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 sickness—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.”
“Fine. I’m coming with you.”
Exasperation moved across her features. “I have to finish up by myself.”
“Why? You planning to run off again?”
Her jaw dropped. “And leave my brother?”
Grant realized that she would never do that. Still she was acting awfully strange. Even for Ginger. “I’m coming with you.”
“Seriously, Grant.” Her tone was beginning to sound desperate. “I don’t want to hold you up. I’m just going after water. We’re heading out in less than an hour. I’m sure you have plenty to do without playing nursemaid to me.”
He pretended to consider her words, then he chuckled. “Nope. I can’t think of anything.”
A defeated scowl passed over her face. She let out a breath. “Oh, all right, fine then. Come with me. But don’t ask any questions.” She peered closer, fixing him with a look that told him how serious she was.
Now that made him all the more curious. “Fine. No questions.”
Within a few minutes of silence, they came upon Fannie and Toni sitting on a boulder, their water buckets at their feet.
“Ginger! You brought Grant?”
“Against my will.” Ginger scowled deeply. “I couldn’t get rid of him.” She walked straight to Fannie’s water buckets and grunted as she pulled the yoke across her shoulders. “Sorry, Fannie. He refused to go away. I finally didn’t have any choice but to bring him with me.” She turned her face toward Grant and spoke with purpose. “But he’s not allowed to ask any questions.”
Fannie gave a weary smile. “It’s all right.”
Grant’s instincts as a doctor kicked in as he searched Fannie’s pale face. “You sick, Fannie?”
She nodded, her face blooming with color. “A little.”
Grant walked across the rocky soil. He reached out and tested the temperature of her skin. “You’re not feverish, but it’s obvious you’re not well. You’d better stay away from the water detail until we’re sure you’re not carrying cholera.”
“I don’t think this is cholera, I’ve been sick for a few days. This will most likely pass in a little while.”
He assessed the situation: Ginger coming back for Fannie’s buckets; the young bride ill, but sure it would pass in a little while; and finally, he wasn’t allowed to ask questions.
“Oh…” he said.
Fannie, Ginger, and Toni all three glanced sharply at him.
“You’re with child.”
Ginger glared at him. “I thought I told you no questions.”
“That, my girl,” he said, taking the yoke from her, “was a statement of fact, not a question.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ginger demanded, making a grab for the water.
“Stop it. You’re going to dump the buckets.” Grant stepped back and slid the yoke across his own shoulders. “You’ve already carried water today. I’ll take this one.”
Taking a deep breath, Ginger apparently decided to give up. She tossed him a glare. “Thanks,” she said through teeth clenched so tightly, it really didn’t sound like a word at all. Grant grinned.
They walked in silence. When they reached the edge of camp, he turned to find her face was white as a boll of cotton. “Ginger. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“It’s Web,” she whispered. Grant set the water on the ground and took her arm. “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense. What about a spider’s web?”
She gave a vehement shake of her head. “Not a spider’s web. Web! The man talking with Blake.” She nodded toward the wagon master who was, indeed, speaking with a stranger.
“Who is he?”
She turned her dread-filled gaze on him. “Grant,” she whispered. “He’s my pa, and I’m pretty sure he’s got cholera, too.”