Summer's Fury (5 page)

Summer refused to look up at Beauregard, gasping for breath, as she quickly gathered the boards, placed one on either side of his leg, then wrapped the torn strips of petticoat around the splint. Only then did she sit back on her heels and gaze at him.

“A doctor probably could’ve done better, but that will have to do for now,” she said. “I’m sorry Beauregard, but you may end up with a limp if it doesn’t heal properly.” She didn’t bother telling him that if she didn’t get back with a doctor and get his leg properly cared for, he might very well lose it to infection and gangrene. More than likely, he knew that already.

He nodded but said nothing, his lips pressed tightly together, his face pale, beads of sweat appearing on his brow. “Look to see if you can find the water canteen and the jerky,” he said quietly.

She did as he asked, and to her surprise was successful in finding both. It was a miracle that the canteen and bag of jerky hadn’t been carried off by the wind when the wagon had tipped over and rolled. Without saying anything, she offered him the canteen. At first he shook his head, but she held the canteen out toward him until he finally acquiesced. He reached for it, unscrewed the metal lid, and drank a few gulps. He handed the canteen to her and she took it, placing the strap over her shoulder before opening the small buckskin bag filled with jerky. She took half of it and placed it on his lap despite his protests.

“Don’t you dare argue with me, Beauregard Kearny,” she said. “After all, you’re in no position to do so.”

He reached for his gun and pulled it out of the holster. He then handed it to her, butt first. “Take this.”

“No, Beauregard, I don’t—”

“In case of wolves,” he said, brooking no refusal.

“I’ll have a fire. You won’t. You keep it.”

He scowled. “Summer—”

She stood. “I’m leaving, and so help me God, you better be alive when I get back.”

She turned abruptly and made her way back up the gentle slope of the gully to where the wagon had left the wagon track, still visible on the prairie. At the top of the low slope she turned to look over her shoulder and saw Beauregard watching her. He lifted a hand, and she lifted her hand in farewell. Her heart went out to him. Such a good man. At that moment, she knew that she could grow to love him. In order to do that, however, she had to get to Cheyenne as quickly as she could. If she didn’t their chances of any type of the future would disappear just as quickly as the tornado had.

Summer sat on the bouncing seat of a wagon, driven by one of Cheyenne’s town deputies. The wagon was loaded with supplies. The reins of a saddled black gelding was tied to the back. She sat anxiously forward on the wagon seat, scanning the distance, exhausted but hopeful. After she had left Beauregard yesterday afternoon, she had walked as quickly as she could, sometimes breaking into a jog, anxious to reach Cheyenne as soon as possible. She had no trouble following the wagon track back to the town, and occasionally was able to see huge chunks of ground missing where the tornado had touched down.

By the time dusk had settled over the prairie, her legs had trembled with weariness. She had paused occasionally to take a sip of water and to nibble on some jerky, hoping to keep her strength up. She didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to rest. Beauregard needed her; he was
counting
on her. The longer it took her to get to Cheyenne, the longer it would be before help could reach him.

By the time dusk had settled into night and the sky began to glow with millions of stars overhead, she realized that God’s grace was with her. A full moon slowly rose in the sky, lighting her way, or at least enough for her to stay on the wagon track. She didn’t know how far she had come, nor how far she had to go, but she focused on putting one step ahead of the other. In her mind she muttered a mantra: ‘One step further is one step closer’. She repeated it hundreds of times.

She fell down several times, gasping for breath, so tired that all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Thoughts of Beauregard sitting so stoically beside the upside down wagon forced her to get back onto her feet and keep moving.

By the time she reached the outskirts of Cheyenne, the town had pretty much settled in for the night. She didn’t know where to find help, but managed to capture the attention of a man coming out of a saloon.

“Where is the sheriff’s office!?” she cried out.

The man looked at her as if she were crazy. She could only imagine what she looked like; her hair all tangled, her dress torn and dirty, her eyes wide with panic. He turned and pointed. “Just down the street on the left, ma’am,” he said. “You need help?”

“Yes! Yes, my husband—” the words sounded funny coming from her lips, but they gave her a sense of strength. “My husband and I were caught out in the tornado. He’s hurt! I have to get help!”

The man grabbed her elbow and quickly hustled her toward the sheriff’s office. In a matter of moments she had explained the situation to the sheriff, and he had ordered the deputy to put together a wagon. He then told Summer that they would leave at first light.

“No! No, we might not get there in time if we wait. Can’t we leave now?”

“Ma’am, it’s not a good idea to go traipsing around in the middle of the night out there—”

“Well then, can I borrow the wagon and I’ll go on my own? I have to get him help! His leg is broken! I have to get the doctor—”

“The doctor’s out of town, ma’am, tending to a birthing,” the sheriff said, trying to calm her. “He probably won’t be back until tomorrow anyway.”

“But I have to get help!” Summer cried, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

“Ma’am, we’ll head out at first light, I promise. Besides, it looks like you could use some rest. You’re not going to do your husband any good if you collapse from exhaustion before you can show us where he is.”

She knew that the sheriff made sense, but… no, he made sense. She was close to exhaustion, her nerves frayed, and she knew her efforts would come to naught if she couldn’t help them find the destroyed wagon and the injured Beauregard in the middle of the night, regardless of the full moon. She was completely unfamiliar with the territory.

“I guess I could rest for a little while,” she agreed reluctantly, failing to prevent several tears from escaping her eyes.

The sheriff sent the deputy off to inform the doctor what was happening, and promised that a wagon would be prepared and horses hitched by the time dawn crept over the morning sky.

Dawn had come hours ago. Now Summer gazed intently at the prairie, knowing that they were getting close. Suddenly, the deputy pulled up the horses and pointed.

“There!”

Summer followed his pointing finger and let out a cry of relief. There was the wagon! “Hurry!”

The deputy urged the horses off the trail and down the gentle slope toward the bottom of the gully. To her immense relief, Beauregard heard them coming and lifted a hand. To her surprise, she saw the two bay horses a couple of hundred yards away, calmly munching on the prairie grass. Before the deputy’s wagon even came to a complete stop, Summer was scrambling down off it. She toppled onto her knees, but quickly got to her feet and hurried toward Beauregard’s side.

“You’re alive!” She couldn’t help herself. She fell to her knees beside Beauregard and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his shoulder. “Oh thank God, you’re alive!”

“I’ll be okay, Summer, don’t worry.”

He gently nudged her away, a frown on his face. She gazed at him, tears blurring her vision, wondering if he was still angry with her for her deceit. “Beauregard, I—”

“How did you get back so quickly?” he asked. “You didn’t stop walking when it got dark, did you?”

She shook her head, tears again blurring provision. “I couldn’t! Besides it was a full moon and—”

The deputy climbed off the wagon and moved toward Beauregard, assessing the situation in a glance. “Let’s get you into my wagon,” he said. “By the time we get back to Cheyenne, the doc will be back and he can get you fixed up good and proper.” He glanced at Summer. “She showed up at the sheriff’s office close to midnight, insisting that we leave then and there to get back here. We finally managed to convince her to rest a while, but she was up and prodding us just before first light.” He laughed. “You got yourself quite a wife there, Mister.”

Beauregard turned from the deputy to Summer and nodded. “That I do, Deputy, that I do.”

Summer laughed as Beau pounded in the last nail, then tossed the hammer aside and did a little jig. He had just spent a good month adding on a small room to the ranch house. A nursery. She rested her hand on her huge belly, her heart filled with love for Beau and their soon-to-arrive offspring.

This was her second spring in Laramie, and they were both excited about the arrival of their first child. Summer had taken a job as a school teacher in town, while Beau continued with his marshal’s duties and overseeing their small herd of cattle. It hadn’t always been easy, but she and Beau had made a good life for themselves out here. She thought back to Martha’s advice and smiled. Yes, honesty was the foundation of trust in any marriage. After surviving the tornado and taking care of Beau as his leg healed, she had told him everything, not only about her first husband and his abandonment of her, but everything about her past. He had done the same.

From there, she and Beau had slowly gotten to know each other. One day, as Summer watched Beau ride up to the house after being gone for several days on business, she had realized she loved him – body, heart, and soul. She didn’t keep her feelings to herself. He had laughed and divulged the same feelings for her. From that moment forward, Summer embraced her new life in Laramie. The following fall, she had been thrilled to tell Beau that new life grew inside her.

They had survived summer’s fury. Her first tornado had not been her last. Since that first tornado, she and Beau had survived several more, taking shelter in the storm cellar of the ranch house. They had endured. Beau’s leg had healed well, and he was strong and healthy. No limp.

Over the past couple of years, she and Beau had forged an unbreakable bond that would last them a lifetime, through life’s struggles and joys. As long as they were together, Summer knew she could withstand anything that life on the prairie handed her. With God’s blessing, she and Beau and their children would enjoy years of happiness. She was convinced of it.

Katie Wyatt is Arizona born and raised. 25% American Sioux Indian. She has traveled and camped extensively through California, Arizona, Nevada, Mexico, and New Mexico. Looking at the incredible night sky and the giant Saguaro cactus she has dreamt of what it would be like to have lived in the early pioneer times.

She has spent time with the great-grandson of
Wyatt Earp.
Mesmerized by the stories he would tell of his great-grandfather times and events. This historical interest in the old West is the inspiration for her Western romance novels.