Chapter 13
Jem tried to work some feeling back into his cold hands as Phineas spoke to him. He could hardly focus, considering the one person he wanted to talk to was being enveloped by the wagon train, led away by Della.
"That was a brave thing," Phineas said, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked out over the river. "Those children would have gone under without you."
"Anyone would have done it." Jem meant it. The children had been right there.
"Anyone didn't." Phineas' words were hardly heard over the noise of more wagons crossing and the rush of water.
"Theda…" Jem started. He had no right to comment on Theda; he barely knew her. But even he'd been able to see something was seriously wrong. Even if she was afraid of water, she seemed more affected than he’d expected.
"She'll be all right." Phineas’ expression changed. "It's just hard for her. There's history there." He paused. "With rivers."
Jem glanced at him. Phineas was still looking out at the water.
Jem swallowed hard. He kept seeing her lips tremble, and her wide eyes as they swept over him, a desperation to know if he was all right filling her face. He’d never meant to scare her.
"Let me tend to your wagon," he said instead of the questions he wanted to ask. "And the horses. You've still got crossings to manage."
Phineas looked over at him and nodded.
"I'd appreciate that. We won’t travel any further tonight. It will take everyone the rest of the day, and maybe a bit of the morning to finish crossing and to recover.” Phineas reached out and clapped his shoulder. “We are lucky you were with us today.”
“Thank you.” Jem accepted the compliment despite the uncomfortable feeling gripping his chest. He watched as Phineas waved, then headed toward the river where someone was calling his name. Jem turned and went over to the waiting wagon and team of horses.
The horses were tired and showed it. Their heads hung low as Jem led them away from the bank. Once he found a place to camp, he unhitched them and got to work.
It was good to have something to do. He wiped them down with a dry cloth, checked their legs for signs of strain, and worked the tangles from their manes. The horses leaned into the attention, and before long, he found himself talking quietly to them.
Just like he had with Oren's ox. It came naturally to him, working with animals. Perhaps that had something to do with his past occupation.
Afterward, he checked over the wagon. One of the rear spokes had developed a crack during the crossing. It wasn't dangerous yet, but it would need watching. The canvas cover had also come loose on one side. He retied it, pulling the knots tight.
A few of the neighboring families greeted him as they passed. One man, Hendricks, or something close to it, stopped long enough to shake his hand and tell him he'd seen what happened in the river.
Jem thanked him and was relieved when the man left it at that. By the time he finished, the sun had dropped lower in the sky. He was considering whether there was enough daylight left to start a fire when he looked up and spotted Theda walking toward him.
She was still pale. She carried herself the way she usually did, straight-backed and composed, but something seemed different about her. She stopped a few feet away and looked at the horses before turning her attention to him.
"You tended the horses."
"Phineas had the rest of the crossing to manage."
She nodded. Then her gaze shifted to his side.
"I need to look at your ribs. You were favoring them when you came out of the water." Concern graced her delicate features, and something stirred in his chest. She was worried about him.
"I'm all right."
"You dove into a river with cracked ribs and pulled two children out of the current." She said it matter-of-factly as she walked toward the back of the wagon.
"So I'll be the one deciding whether you're all right."
Jem opened his mouth to argue. Then thought better of it. She was already climbing inside. He followed her over to the back of the wagon and slowed down for a moment.
“Come up here.” Theda motioned for him to join her. He did so, gingerly climbing up into the back of the wagon. He lowered himself onto a crate inside and pressed a hand against his side.
His ribs had been hurting ever since he pulled the children from the river, but now that everything had settled, it was harder to ignore. He took a careful breath and waited for the ache to ease.
When he’d been moving, it was barely noticeable. The emotions of being needed overrode the pain. But slowing down brought it all back.
Theda gathered up her bandages and supplies, sitting on a crate opposite him.
There wasn't much room. Sacks of grain lined one side, tools and supplies the other.
Theda knelt beside him and nodded toward his shirt.
He silently unbuttoned it and took it off.
He couldn't help but notice the twinge of red that colored her cheeks as she reached out and began unwrapping his bandages.
He winced when she pressed against his ribs.
“Are they feeling better or worse in general?”
"Some of both. They were feeling almost unnoticeable before I jumped into the river. Now, they’re hurting pretty bad.”
She made a small sound and continued her examination. For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Jem said. "Out there. I'm sorry."
Her hands slowed briefly.
"It isn't your fault. You did what needed doing. Nora and Edmund would be dead if it weren't for you. Thank you for saving them."
"Still."
Theda sat back and looked at him.
Most of the color had returned to her face, but she still looked tired.
“Why are you so afraid of the river?” He tilted his head, waiting for her answer.
“It’s complicated.” Theda sighed. “Something happened a long time ago. I lost someone.”
Jem nodded. He wanted to ask who. But something in her tone told him she wasn't ready to talk about it. So he let it go.
Theda turned back to the bandaging.
"Have you remembered anything?" she asked. "Anything at all over the last few days?"
The change in subject wasn't hard to miss. Jem thought about the dream.
"I dreamed about a man. A couple of times, I’ve had the same nightmare.”
Theda glanced up.
"He had cold eyes. The kind that makes you uncomfortable just looking at them." He hesitated. "He called me brother." Theda's hands stilled.
“But you don’t remember having a brother?”
He shook his head. "I don't know."
Theda finished tying off the bandage.
"Dreams aren't memories," she said. "The mind does strange things when it's healing."
"Maybe."
She gave him a look.
"Jem." She sounded as if she were scolding him.
It was hard to focus with her sitting so close to him.
Her fingers worked swiftly as she checked his past scrapes and bruises.
She nodded in a matter-of-fact way as she finished her examination.
Theda shook her head. "You're healing nicely.
Your cuts are all closed. Now you just have to wait for your ribs to recover. "
Theda began packing away her supplies. Outside, the sounds of camp drifted through the wagon. Crackling fires. Quiet conversations. The clatter of cookware.
"I'm staying with Della tonight," she said. "She asked me to."
Jem reached out, touching her arm, making her still. Her gaze went up to his, startled.
“You don’t have to keep sleeping in Della’s wagon. I can move, sleep somewhere else so you can have yours back.”
Theda frowned.
“It’s no bother for you to stay here. I don’t mind sleeping with Della. In fact, sometimes, I prefer it to being all alone.”
“Oh.” Jem hesitated, his hand still on her arm. He didn’t want to let her go, to let the moment end before making sure she was really all right. “Are you going to be okay?”
Theda’s eyes glistened, and for a moment, he wondered if she was holding back tears.
Please don’t cry.
"I'll check on you in the morning." She cleared her throat. "I'm going to be fine, Jem. There's just a lot that I haven't…dealt with, I guess."
"All right." He slowly pulled back his hand. He wished he could give her a hug and tell her it would all work out. The urge washed over him in one quick moment, but he held himself back.
She may not appreciate that.
Theda climbed out of the wagon. Jem watched her walk away until she disappeared among the other wagons. For a while, he remained where he was, breathing carefully against the ache in his ribs.
Brother. The word kept returning to him.
The cold eyes. The feeling that came with them. Eventually, he climbed out of the wagon.
The evening had settled over camp. Fires burned across the prairie, and most of the younger children had already been tucked into their wagons. Somewhere in the distance, a fiddle played a slow tune. Jem wandered through camp, taking in the familiar sights.
A man he’d heard referred to as Greer stopped beside Ansel Crenshaw's wagon. The two exchanged a few words before Greer clapped him on the shoulder and headed off. Ansel watched him go.
Jem noticed that the children were in front of the wagon, with their mother. Nora and Edmund looked all right. Their hair was still damp, but they were wrapped in blankets, sitting near the fire.
Ansel was near the back of the wagon. He turned and checked the ropes securing a trunk to the back of his wagon.
He tugged on one knot. Then checked it again. Jem watched him for a moment. The man had nearly lost his children today. He supposed that was reason enough for him to be cautious about their belongings. Further down the line, the Henderson family sat around their fire.
Mrs. Henderson was serving supper while her husband sharpened a knife beside the flames. A few wagons farther on, one of the Farley brothers was trying to repair a tear in his canvas cover. He held it up to inspect his work, frowned, and tried again.
He hadn’t been formally introduced to the families in the wagon train, but he’d picked up a lot, heard a lot when he passed by, or heard a conversation here and there.
Jem eventually made his way back toward Phineas and Theda's wagon. He made his way inside and arranged his sleeping area, pulling the quilt up to his shoulders.
The fiddle player started another tune. The melody drifted through camp. Jem looked up at the darkening sky through the back of the wagon cover and thought about cold eyes and a voice that called him brother.