One True Love (10 page)

And that
, she thought,
is better than the trouble I've been making.

Adele chuckled. “I stand corrected. At least you two weren't going at it like a couple of drunken cowhands on payday.”

“Well.” Copper grinned up at Josh. “The day isn't over yet.”

S
adie had decided to ride with a family who had a fussy infant this morning. The young mother needed to drive while the husband helped with the stock.

Redlin's horse pulled even with Adele's wagon and he touched the brim of his hat. “Morning, ladies.”

“And a cold one it is,” Adele grumbled. “My old bones tell me I'm not getting any younger.”

Copper couldn't resist throwing a tease to the handsome wagon master. “How is Miss Newsome this morning?” The young woman had started shamelessly hanging around the man, demanding attention. Over breakfast this morning Copper had been tempted to douse her with a bucket of cold water to cool her ardor.

“I believe Mrs. Newsome is feeling fine,” he replied.

Copper fixed her eyes on the road. “I meant Milly.”

“Oh. Milly.”

“Yes. Oh Milly.” If he didn't watch himself he'd be hogtied
by the time the train reached its destination. Milly Newsome was not accustomed to being denied whatever she wanted. And in this case it was becoming more and more obvious she had her eye on the wagon master.

He turned pensive but she could easily see through his repartee. “Quite a woman. Real spirited. The way I like my women.”

“Yes. Quite.” Copper crossed her arms and vowed to remain civil. She was a new woman; never again would she behave like the old Copper. At least Milly had served her purpose, being the worst example of womanhood ever noted. The old Copper had learned her lesson. All the times she'd argued with him, demanded her way. Fought him at every turn like a spoiled child, called him names behind his back—like a child. Those days were over. She'd seen what an ugly creature she'd become, and with God's help she would change her wayward ways.

“Yes,” he mused, settling the brim of his hat lower against the chilly drizzle. “Quite a woman.”

Copper realized that he saw right through her and relished her misery and plain old jealously toward Milly, whom he couldn't possibly give a whit about.

“Sweet kid,” he noted. “Shame she'll be nothing but a burden to society.” He nudged the horse's side and rode ahead.

Adele threw back her head and hooted. “That man. He purely loves to devil you.”

Mid-morning Richardson rode by and paused to visit. The mist thickened and the clouds ahead seemed to be eating up the horizon. “Morning, ladies.”

They greeted the assistant wagon master in unison.

He peered up, eyes assessing the overcast ceiling. “I'll eat my hat if it doesn't snow.”

“Snow!” Copper sat up straighter. “A real snow—this early?”

He shrugged. “Not all that early. I lived in these parts when I was a young'un. I've seen many a snow this time of year, but it won't stay on the ground long.”

Copper settled back. By evening they would be enjoying a warm meal and soft bed at Fort Riceson so the weather didn't matter.

Richardson glanced at her foot propped on a storage box. “Won't be long now.”

She smiled. “Can't be soon enough for me. When do you reckon we'll get there?” Though the weather was nasty it hadn't slowed the morning's progress.

“Should be there by early afternoon. I think Josh wants to push on through and skip the noon stop. That's what I'm here to tell you. Sadie sent word that she's fixing a couple of biscuits and ham for you two. I'll drop them by closer to noon.” He kneed the stallion and rode on.

“That's mighty kind,” Adele remarked.

“Sadie's a good heart. It's a shame some man hasn't noticed her qualities.”

The older woman turned to look at her. “I wasn't talking about Sadie. I was referring to Josh. Open your eyes, woman. The man's in love with you and he's worried sick about that ankle.”

The observation caught Copper off guard. She knew that her and Josh's former animosity was almost forced now, but for Adele to suggest that the wagon master was in love with her? That was too much to hope for. “Don't be silly. We've
simply called a truce. The weather's getting bad and he's eager to reach the fort so I can see the doctor, and the folks can have a day or two to rest and warm up before you go on to Colorado Springs.”

Josh. In love with her. She couldn't deny that the thought was appealing.

“A truce, huh? That's what all that eye gazing was about last night?”

Copper shrugged, pulling her cloak tighter. “It was getting dark; it was hard to see.”

Adele whistled to the team and avoided a pothole. “I can die peacefully. I've heard it all now.”

Minutes stretched before Copper ventured, “Even if he were to…have affection for me, what about this Susan person?” Lately the name had hung in the back of her mind. Who was this woman and why did Josh correspond with her? She thought she knew Redlin well enough now to know she wasn't a wife or even a love interest. Everything she had observed about the man had indicated the highest moral standards. He spoke to women respectfully, and while vile language poured from some of the men's mouths, Copper had never heard Josh utter a single profanity. Goodness knew he'd had plenty of opportunities to let curses fly, yet he always spoke politely and cleanly. If women were within earshot, he insisted the other men limit their profanity. But the idea that this man, this man for whom her respect had grown by leaps and bounds in the past few days, could actually be in love with her stole her breath.

God, if that is true I am certainly unworthy of his love. He deserves more than a hotheaded, temperamental, selfish
redhead like me.
Then, from some deep deposit of feminine competition, she added,
But so is a spoiled blond like Milly unworthy of him.

Shortly before noon, Richardson galloped up with the sack of biscuits and ham. The wagon train paused for a brief rest stop and a change of drivers.

Within minutes they were back on the trail, with Sadie now at the reins.

She glanced over and grinned at Copper. “Not going to be long now. Richardson said the fort's about an hour away.”

Copper bit into a cold biscuit and closed her eyes in ecstasy with the thought of a soft bed, hot coffee, warm meals, and Dr. Dale Dyson. Soon now she would know if the injury could be treated. Could the doctor work a miracle and do what the average doctor couldn't? Would his gift of healing and medical training allow her to walk freely and easily again?

“I pray Dyson will be able to help,” she said softly, finding courage a little harder to muster when the end of the trip was so near.

“That's all our prayers, but you're a strong woman and you'll live with whatever comes your way.” Sadie shook her head. “When I lost my husband I swore I couldn't go on—I couldn't find a purpose to live anymore. But every morning I'd open my eyes to a new day. Sometimes I'd be angry with God and demand to know why he took my man and left me. Didn't seem right to throw a woman out in this world alone. Then one morning I opened my eyes and that black veil that'd hung over my head for almost a year didn't feel as heavy. Every day afterward the load got a little easier, and now I'm on my way to make a new life. I still miss my
man, miss him a lot, but I know he's in a far better place and I ain't got the heart to wish him back. Love's like that, you know.”

Copper didn't know. Until she'd met Josh she'd not given that kind of selfless, lifelong love much thought. She always figured when it came, it came. Otherwise, she'd content herself with teaching and living an independent life. Somehow and somewhere between here and Beeder's Cove her values had changed. Right now the love of a good man sounded mighty good. A man she could trust, respect, and, yes, lean on. She desperately needed a pair of strong male arms around her, assuring her that all would be well even though she didn't always believe it. She was beginning to realize that she could not expect life to be perfect. She was starting to suspect the trick to a happy life here on earth was acceptance. Acquire the ability to face life head-on, and when circumstances ambush you, you get up and limp to the finish line with whatever the good Lord has left you.

She reached up to swipe at hot tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks and noticed the fine mist was turning to rain/snow. “Look, Sadie. It's snowing.”

“Why it shore is. Will you look at that?” Fat, lazy flakes the size of peas soon filled the air. A whoop went up and down the line, and children's excited laughter filled the air. Was any sight as uplifting as the first snowfall of the season or as heartening as the last one?

Copper reached out to catch the flakes on her hand. The snow melted as quickly as it touched the ground. The sight was so pretty she took it as a harbinger of things to come. For the first time since she'd begun the arduous journey, she felt capable of facing whatever obstacles lay ahead of her.

Mid-afternoon Fort Riceson came into view. Amid swirling snow, the whoops and cheers echoed up and down the line.

Sadie looked over and grinned. “Everyone on this train loves you, honey. We've all been praying for this moment.”

Tears rolled down Copper's cheeks. She'd be leaving this wonderful family soon. The thought hit her almost like a physical blow. She would miss every one of them so very much.

The catcalls and happy cheers continued as Josh rode up, grinning. “You're here, Miss Wilson. And only a few days late.”

She smiled. “I forgive you, Mr. Redlin. You said you'd get me here safe and sound, and you're a man of your word.”

His features sobered. “That I am.” Their gazes held momentarily before he announced. “I'll ride ahead and let them know who we are.” He scanned the distant fort and frowned. “Surprised there's not a welcoming committee.”

Copper's gaze skimmed the area. The fort was remote, but she'd heard there was a large contingent here.

Sadie turned to look. “Does seem a might peculiar. They are expecting us, aren't they?”

Josh nodded. “They know we're coming.” He kneed the horse and moved ahead. Richardson fell in beside him, and the two men rode toward the fortress.

Copper glanced at Sadie and grinned. “I'm glad the trip is over, but I'm going to miss you and Adele.”

“It's over for you,” she said. “We still got a lot of road before us. I'm looking forward to a couple of days' rest before we move on.”

The wagons sat waiting word from Redlin and Richardson. Word came down the line that Milly Newsome demanded to know why the delay?

Without disguising the disgust in her voice, Copper began, “If that woman was here I'd tell her to—”

“—have a nice day,” said Sadie with a smile.

Crossing her arms, Copper turned back to face the fort. “I don't envy you spending more days on the trail with that one.”

“That bunch don't bother me. Someone said they'll be leaving us once we cross the last river.”

Snow flew, sweeping the rugged landscape like a giant broom. Copper would be so happy to be warm again, to climb between sweet-smelling sheets and sleep without interruption. Adele was a saint, but a snoring saint. Many a night Copper plugged her ears with cotton, but she couldn't block out the wheezing snorts.

Minutes ticked past. Ten turned to twenty.

Teeth chattering, Copper muttered. “What is taking them so long?”

Sadie's mood had gone from elated to pensive. “Don't know—it don't seem right.” Her eyes scanned the distant fort. “Don't look to be a thing stirring.”

Biting her lower lip, Copper fixed on the scene before her. Any minute now Josh and Frank would ride out and give the signal to move forward.

Any minute.

“I
can't wait any longer.” Copper reached for the crutch.

“I'm going up there.”

Sadie laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Don't do it.” The solemnity in her words stopped Copper from following her instinct.

“Sadie, something must be wrong or they would be back by now. How long does it take to announce our arrival?”

“Can't say, but we wait until Redlin or Richardson signals us.”

More minutes ticked by, anxious minutes. Sadie kept a firm hold on Copper's arm.

Finally, Richardson rode through the fort gate. As he drew closer, Copper distinguished his grave demeanor. Hope plummeted.

“Dr. Dyson must be gone,” Copper said in little more than a whisper.

“Now, now, you don't know that,” Sadie cautioned. “Don't
be borrowing trouble. By the look on Richardson's face, we may already have enough.”

Richardson rode straight to their wagon. Reining up, he nodded. “Miss Copper. Mrs. Fortright.”

Amid her chaotic thoughts Sadie's married name registered. Copper didn't think she'd ever heard it mentioned. She swallowed. “The doctor's gone, isn't he?”

“Ma'am, if you would, Josh wants me to bring you to the fort.”

Sadie started to drive the wagon forward, but Richardson stopped her. “Just Miss Wilson. Mrs. Fortright, Josh wants you to hold the wagons here. Circle them tight for the night.”

The woman nodded. “Shore will. What's wrong?”

He touched the brim of his hat. “Circle 'em tight, Mrs. Fortright. And tell Mike to put on extra guards.”

Richardson reached over and helped Copper move off the wagon seat and straddle his horse behind the saddle. He was well into his fifties, but he still had the arm strength of a man much younger. He urged the stallion into a gallop. Copper held tightly to the assistant wagon master's waist. Her ankle throbbed with each jolt, but the pain barely registered due to the multitude of questions that raced through her mind.

As the animal slowed and walked through the fort's open double gates, she suddenly felt bile rise to the back of her throat. Practically nothing was standing, except for a portion of a building along the front wall. The barracks, the mess hall, even the hitching posts were only burned relics. Richardson removed his bandana and reached back to hand it to her. She clamped the cloth over her nose, despair engulfing her. Bodies were everywhere.

“Kiowa massacre. Look at the shields. They're made of buffalo hides, and the weapons are bows and lances. His eyes scanned the scores of bodies wearing buckskin, with paint and feathers. There were more than a hundred soldiers and some civilians here. Not sure how many women and children. Can't know if any patrols were out at the time. We can only pray that they were.” His eyes scanned the destruction. “Maybe we ought to thank the good Lord that none survived. It would take all a man possessed to come back to this.”

She stifled the instinct to rail at God for allowing this injustice, but only gratitude filled her heart. But for the small interruptions, the wagon train would have been here and met the same fate.

Yet her destiny was sealed. With Dyson's death—and the scene seemed to assure that such was true—she was certain to be crippled for life.

Richardson nudged his mount across the compound. Some of the charred rubble still gave off small plumes of smoke. They approached the blackened wall of the sole remaining building, where Redlin's horse stood. The fort's back wall was burned to the ground. Apparently the savages rode south thinking the whole structure would burn, but the front of the fort remained intact. Before she could stop it, her imagination started picturing the slaughter that had taken place.

With a sob she choked, “I've seen enough.” She buried her face in the back of Richardson's shirt and pleaded, “Please take me back to the wagon.”

“Bear with me, Miss Wilson.” He reined up and dismounted, and then lifted Copper down off the horse.

“Please, Mr. Richardson, I can't bear any more of this.”

Josh met her in the doorway. “Copper. Come in here.”

Hesitantly she reached for his outstretched hand and grasped it. Supporting her weight, he led her into the shell of the building that now consisted of only two rooms and a partial roof. She caught sight of a small room on the left. Snow blew through the broken windowpane and dusted the dirt floor. One lone man sat crumpled in a corner, wrapped in a blanket and staring at a near-empty gin bottle. It took a moment for her to realize what she was looking at.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“If this envelope that was in his pocket belongs to him, it's Dr. Dyson.”

Josh pulled her close to his side. “I found him like this. I haven't been able to get a word out of him.” His eyes wandered to a far corner where an Indian woman lay, gravely wounded. She wore a beaded buckskin tunic and skirt, now coated in dried blood. Her long hair was braided and filthy. She tossed on a pallet, murmuring indistinguishable phrases.

Breaking away from Josh, Copper went to kneel awkwardly in front of Dyson, a man with a vacant face covered by grime and beard. She reached for his hand and found that it was icy to the touch. “Doctor?”

Rheumy brown eyes fixed on the bottle.

Copper tried to rub warmth in his cold fingers. “We need blankets.”

Richardson turned. “I'll bring some from the wagons.”

“And hot coffee,” Copper called. “All you can carry.”

Josh took the man's shoulders and straightened him out on the floor. Copper took the lone blanket in the room and wrapped it snugly around the doctor.

“I'll start a fire.” Josh moved to break up a few random pieces of furniture that had been spared by the flames.

Richardson returned with blankets and hot soup and coffee. Copper spent the afternoon spooning drops of hot liquid into the doctor's mouth and doing what she could for the injured woman. Her injuries were so grave Copper couldn't believe she was still alive. She refused all substances that Copper offered.

At first Dyson resisted her efforts, but eventually he calmed and obediently swallowed when the metal spoon touched his dried lips.

Late afternoon Josh said, “We need to get him out of here and into a wagon.”

Copper nudged broth between the doctor's lips. “Who has the space?” Every wagon was filled to near capacity with family or personal possessions, and it was unlikely the Newsomes would voluntarily unload any of their excesses.

“Some family will have to unload for the time being.” Josh nodded toward the doctor. “He won't make it much longer in these kinds of temperatures.”

Copper's eyes turned to the woman. “And her?”

“She won't make it through the night. Regardless.”

Richardson spoke up. “The Addison family, a young man and his new bride. Joined up at the last checkpoint. They'll help out.”

By suppertime, the doctor was relocated to the wagon. After much discussion, it was decided they would leave the woman where she was and someone would sit with her until the end came.

Dyson remained in a near-catatonic state, eyes fixed and staring. But by bedtime Copper detected a change. His limbs
twitched and he tossed on the pallet, muttering indecipherably.

“I don't know what he needs,” Copper told Josh. The two sat beside the doctor while Jack and Marie Addison slept in Adele's wagon.

“Gin,” Josh said. “The liquor's wearing off and he needs a drink.”

“We don't have gin.” She glanced up. “Do we?”

“I expect I could confiscate a bottle among the men, but I don't think it's in the doctor's best interest.”

“What do we do?”

“Well.” Josh took off his hat and rubbed his temple. “I'd say we brace ourselves for a rough ride. He'll be drying out, and it's not a pretty sight.”

Redlin again proved his knack for understatement.

The following two days turned hellish. The Indian woman refused to die. She was so near death you could smell the stench, and yet her chest rose and fell with each breath. Copper tried to stay put in Adele's wagon but she couldn't. She wanted to help, and she babied the ankle, but she couldn't sit and do nothing. This morning she had Richardson take her to the fort. There was so little to do other than make the dying woman as comfortable as possible, and pray for mercy. The woman remained in a deep sleep or thrashed about, unable or unwilling to take nourishment.

Adele and Sadie stayed with the doctor throughout his “drying out” period. Screams of imagined terror filled the night air as the man thrashed about on his pallet, claiming poisonous spiders were climbing on the canvas walls. Explosive outbursts and vile cursing echoed through the camp when Adele and Sadie failed to kill the imaginary bugs.

Copper sat and prayed in Adele's rocker that had thoughtfully been moved to the Addisons' wagon. There was little more she could do, and Josh wouldn't permit her to be on the ankle for more than a few minutes at a time. After a particularly harrowing episode when the doctor threatened to take a gun and kill them all, Copper had lashed out at Josh because he wouldn't let her out of the wagon.

“Why does it matter,” she'd yelled after three long days of waiting. “I'll always be a cripple! Whatever is wrong will never be right because it has been too long. The bones are starting to knit and there's nothing we can do now!” The only man on earth who could offer hope was thrashing around on a pallet, out of his mind.

Later she would look back on that time and marvel at Redlin's tenacity, and how easily she had slipped back into her old ways. Milly was forgotten; the old Copper had surfaced and she was ashamed. Josh had absorbed all the anger and despair she threw at him, and then rationally, and with resolve, restated his order. He had more trouble than he could handle, while her temporary state of compliance and humility had faded in the face of despair and fear. And still he remained calm and in control.

The snow squalls soon ended and a weak sun melted what little remained on the ground. All the wagons stayed in the protective circle as the temperatures warmed. All, that was, except the four from Louisiana. On the third morning they pulled out without a by-your-leave to anyone. Not a single soul mentioned their departure. It would seem that not a single soul cared.

The following morning, Copper opened her eyes to si
lence. She sat up straighter in the rocker, looking for Adele and Sadie. They weren't in the wagon. Dr. Dyson slept on the pallet, and for the first time in days he seemed in a restful slumber, not tossing and turning or ranting wildly.

Adele parted the back canvas. When she spotted Copper awake, she smiled and whispered, “I'll get your coffee.”

Within minutes she returned bearing a steaming mug. “Here you go.”

Copper appreciatively accepted the warmth and inclined her head toward the patient. “He's better.”

Nodding, Adele climbed in the wagon and checked his pulse. “Sometime during the night he started to calm. He's sleeping normal now.”

“Praise God.”

“He's the one that should be praising God. He is lucky to be alive.”

The awful scene she'd witnessed that first day flooded Copper's mind. “Oh Adele, it was appalling. Nothing inside the fort escaped, and the stench was unbelievable. Men, women, animals. Kiowa. All had met a brutal death.”

Adele straightened. “Don't let yourself think about it, honey. If you do you'll lose your mind. Man's inhumanity to one another is hard to swallow.”

Copper wanted the images wiped from her mind. She could only imagine the horrors the doctor had witnessed. How did he manage to escape the onslaught when nothing else was spared? He must have been outside the grounds that day—or night. Empathy burned deep in her soul. Had he ridden home to find the fort, and all those within, destroyed? Had he lost his wife…and maybe some children? Her gaze fixed on the man on the pallet, and she
wondered if they were doing him any favor by fighting for his life.

Even worse, would the good doctor consider their efforts humanitarian or appallingly inhumane?

 

“Miss Wilson?”

Copper glanced up later that evening to see one of her noon students standing before her. The boy's hat was in his hand.

“Yes, Jake?”

He inclined his head to the fort. “This is a time we ought to fear? Right?”

“Yes.” She drew the boy to her side. “I regret that I chose fear for that particular lesson, Jake. I'd noticed how frightened the children were when we passed Indians along the road, and I had wanted to point out that all Indians aren't savages. Some are peaceful, but yes, there are those who are evil, same as white men. Some are very wicked and cause things like this to happen. But I have no explanation as to why it happens.”

How did you convince a ten-year-old to practice selective fear? Was that in the realm of possibility for anyone?

The boy turned to stare at the fort. He had no idea what lay behind those gates, and she prayed to God that he would never witness such carnage and savagery. Yet death's stench permeated the air and he had heard talk. As much as the adults wanted to shield their young from man's brutality, it was impossible.

He turned back, grave-faced. “If God loves everybody, why does he let something like this happen?”

Powerless to explain, she mutely shook her head. Her fancy
schooling might have equipped her to educate young minds, but all of Papa's wealth couldn't have purchased a sensible answer for Jake, or for her. Yet, deep down, she knew there had to be one. The ultimate cruelty would be for things like this to happen and there not be an answer.

It was those
becauses
and
whys
in her life that she struggled to understand and accept.