Chapter 10
Theda stood on the edge of the rushing river. It had been twelve days since they'd found Jem, and two since they'd arrived at the Platte River.
It was swollen and impossible to cross. They'd had one day with no rain, and Phineas said that if they got one or two more, then they'd try to cross. Everyone was anxious.
Being in one spot for a long time was not a good idea. It opened them up to outsiders and bandits, who might have been looking for a chance to attack the wagon. Theda bit the inside of her cheek. She knew that Phineas was terrified of what might happen if they didn't get a move on soon.
He wasn’t the only one. Several families had asked him if they could just cross the river in the current state, regardless of the danger. He’d told them no, that he wouldn’t let everyone risk their lives like that when they could wait a little bit longer.
Theda could see how hard it was for him, telling everyone no to something that he wanted just as badly as everyone else. He wanted to keep them moving, to keep things going. But it wasn't safe.
"Are you all right?" Jem's deep voice behind her made her start.
She was still getting used to his increased mobility.
He'd been getting stronger every day and had started going further from her wagon.
He was driving the wagon most days, for most of the day.
She would still ride with him sometimes, or she'd ride with Della or walk too.
However, with the rain, more and more people needed her. There were so many children who had come down with a fever and a cough that it had her worried about how bad things would get before they got better weather.
“I’m fine.” Theda turned half toward him, then back toward the river. “I don't know how to swim.” She said the words so low she wasn't sure that Jem heard them at first.
“You don’t?” Jem sounded surprised.
"No. We didn't exactly live near a river in the city.
I spent most of my time with my father in his practice or with my mother.
She was a midwife." Tears threatened to spill as Theda spoke of her mother.
It was a topic she avoided, all the time if she could.
"It felt like Phineas was always going places.
I suppose he learned with friends. The one time I did go to the river, I almost drowned.
" Theda shuddered. She still had nightmares about that day, of what it cost her, the time she thought she could learn to swim. She wasn’t ready to share that with Jem, or anyone.
"I'm sorry." Jem shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step closer to her. The two of them stood there on the riverbank, staring into its murky waters. Jem said nothing for several long seconds, then spoke again. "You're afraid of crossing."
Theda nodded.
“I know it sounds silly .” Images from the last day she’d been in the river came rushing back.
“ Your brother is a very capable man. I don’t even know him as well as you do, but I do know that he is good at what he does. He won’t let everyone cross the river until he’s sure that you can make it across.” Protectiveness surged through him, toward Theda.
“Thank you.” Theda looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips. “You know, I’m really glad we found you. That’s probably awful to say, because I know you probably didn't want to get hurt the way you did, but since it did happen, I’m glad we were there for you.”
“Me too,” Jem grinned. “You have no idea how grateful I am.”
She glanced over at him one more time. She wasn't about to say it, but being close to him made her feel a little safer.
---*---
By the time Theda finished tending to her last patient for the evening, exhaustion tugged heavily at her shoulders.
The wagon train had finally settled for the night. Fires crackled softly across camp, and tired voices drifted through the cooling air as families prepared supper and bedrolls. Theda rubbed absently at the ache in her neck as she made her way toward Della’s wagon.
She’d promised to stop by and check on Della’s mother’s cough before the night grew too late. Della’s mother was rather elderly, and she knew Della was worried about her mother making the trip.
As she neared the wagon, the sound of a familiar voice made her slow.
Jem.
Theda frowned slightly and stepped around the side of the wagon, only to stop short at the sight before her.
Near the oxen line, Jem crouched beside one of Della’s older oxen while Oren stood next to him, listening intently. At seventeen, Oren was tall and broad-shouldered already, though his expression still carried the eagerness of a much younger boy.
“You feel right here,” Jem was saying, carefully running his hand along the ox’s front leg. “See how it flinches a little when pressure’s put there?”
Oren nodded quickly. He reached out to test what Jem was saying.
“So that means it’s injured?”
"Probably strained." Jem glanced up at the animal calmly. "Could be from uneven ground or pulling too much weight for too long. Doesn't feel broken, though. It's a good thing that we're resting here for the time being. Hopefully, it will give the animal time to rest.
Theda blinked in surprise.
Jem’s movements were slow from his lingering injuries, but there was confidence in the way he handled the animal, as if the knowledge came naturally to him.
Oren crouched beside him.
“How do you know all this?”
Jem hesitated.
"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted with a faint laugh. "I just…do. It's like when you eat or drink when you're hungry or thirsty. You don't think about it. You just pick up a canteen or a fork, and you do it. I guess that's how tending to animals comes to me."
Theda remained still a few feet away, watching quietly. Something about the scene pulled unexpectedly at her chest.
Jem looked comfortable there beside the ox, speaking easily with Oren beneath the dim evening light. For the first time since she’d seen him for the first time, injured and helpless in her wagon, he looked less like a lost stranger and more like someone beginning to find his footing again.
“You’ll want to let him rest tomorrow, if possible,” Jem continued. “And check the hoof for stones before you start moving again.” Oren nodded seriously, absorbing every word.
A soft chuckle sounded beside her.
Theda glanced over to find Della stepping down from her wagon, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders against the evening chill.
“I see Oren found himself another teacher,” Della said warmly as she walked up to Theda.
Theda looked back toward Jem and Oren near the oxen. They looked like father and son, learning together.
“It would seem so.”
Della’s smile turned knowing as she folded her arms.
“For what it’s worth, Oren and I approve of him.” Her eyes glinted mischievously.
Theda let out an exasperated laugh.
“You make it sound as if your approval is necessary.”
“Isn’t it?” Della teased lightly.
“No,” Theda said quickly, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “There is no approval necessary because nothing is happening.”
“Mhm.”
“You are just as bad as before,” Theda muttered.
Della only smiled innocently. By then, Oren and Jem had finished checking the ox’s leg. Oren gave the animal’s neck an affectionate pat before stepping back, and Jem slowly straightened, wincing just slightly as he did.
Theda noticed it immediately. He was still hurting. It was easy to forget how badly hurt he’d been. He was good at hiding his injuries and appearing stronger than he actually was. She wanted to rush forward and make sure he was all right.
Jem turned toward them then, finally spotting her properly in the fading light. His expression brightened ever so slightly. When his eyes landed on her, her heart skipped a beat.
"There you are," he said as he walked closer. "I was actually looking for you. I figured that since I see you walking this way every evening, it was the right direction."
Theda blinked.
“You were looking for me?” She sounded as dumbfounded as she felt. It was only fair that Jem be able to move unrestricted, and yet, it was strange seeing him outside of the setting of her wagon.
Jem nodded.
“I thought maybe there might be something I could help with around camp.” He shoved his hands into his pockets almost sheepishly. “But then I found Oren trying to figure out why the ox was limping.”
“And Jem knew exactly what to do,” Oren added eagerly. “He showed me how to check the leg and everything.”
Jem gave a small shrug.
“I’m not entirely sure how I knew what I was doing.” He was so sincere when he said it, the sadness audible in his voice.
“That must be frustrating,” Theda said softly before she could stop herself.
Something flickered across Jem’s face at her words.
“It is,” he admitted quietly. “Knowing things, but not knowing why I know them.” He glanced briefly toward the oxen behind him. “Sometimes it feels like pieces of someone else’s life got left behind in my head.”
Theda’s heart squeezed in her chest. She had no idea what he was going through but could see how hard it was for him.
“Well, thank you for helping him. Della’s oxen are stubborn enough when they’re healthy. I can only imagine how difficult they become when injured.” Theda tried to lighten the mood.
“Hey,” Della protested lightly from beside her, “I heard that.”
Jem laughed under his breath, and the sound caught Theda off guard a little. It was warmer than she expected, and he relaxed in a way she rarely saw from him. She realized that he hadn't laughed since they'd saved him, and he'd barely smiled.
“You did good work,” Della added, stepping closer. “And since you’re already here, you may as well stay for biscuits and coffee.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude--”
“You’re not intruding,” Della cut in firmly. “Besides, if I let Theda drag herself back to camp without sitting down for five minutes, she’ll work herself into the grave.”
“I would not,” Theda argued weakly.
Della ignored her completely. Jem hesitated only briefly before nodding. As soon as he agreed, Theda knew she’d lost the battle.
“In that case, I’d be grateful to stay.”