Chapter 8
Theda woke to the steady sound of rain pattering against the canvas overhead. For a few moments, she simply lay there beneath her blanket, listening to the storm and watching the dim gray light filter through the wagon cover.
The rain had softened sometime during the night, no longer violent and angry like before, but steady enough that she knew the trail would be muddy for the day. It also meant the river would be swollen, most likely too swollen to pass.
Across from her, Della was already awake and dressing for the day. She tied her dark hair back with practiced ease before glancing over her shoulder.
“You’re finally awake,” Della said with a small smile. “I was beginning to think you planned on sleeping through breakfast.”
Theda pushed herself upright and rubbed her eyes. She still felt tired. Between worrying about Jem and listening to the storm for most of the night, she wasn’t sure how much rest she’d truly gotten.
“What time is it?” she asked softly.
“Early. Most people are just starting to stir.” Della pulled on her shawl then nodded toward a small pot near the corner of the wagon. “I was about to warm up some biscuits and coffee. Will you stay for breakfast?”
Theda hesitated only briefly before shaking her head.
“No, I should head back to my wagon. I need to make breakfast for Phineas and Jem before everyone starts moving for the day.”
“I figured as much,” Della said knowingly.
Theda frowned slightly as she gathered her shoes into her hands. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Della’s smile widened just enough to make Theda suspicious.
“Oh, nothing terrible,” she said lightly. “Only that you’ve spent the last several days worrying over that young man like he’s already yours to care for.”
Warmth crept into Theda’s cheeks almost instantly.
“That is not true,” she protested. “He’s my patient. Someone has to look after him.”
“Mhm.” Della did not sound convinced in the slightest. “And I suppose you make breakfast before sunrise for all your patients?”
“If they needed it, I would.” Theda raised her chin indignantly. Her cheeks were so hot, she knew that they were a bright red.
“What’s going on between the two of you?” Della prompted.
"Nothing is going on. Nothing at all. He's simply a patient. Yes, I like talking to him, and I'm invested in seeing if he'll get better, but that's all it is."
"Does Leland know that?" Della shook her head. "It's bothering him in some type of way, having Jem here. He's spoken to most everyone in the wagon, about all the dangers that man might bring around for us."
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
Della’s expression softened. “No,” she admitted. “I don’t think he’s dangerous.”
Theda relaxed slightly.
“I think he looks lost,” Della continued gently. “And I think you’ve found someone you care about.”
“Della.” Theda let out a quiet groan.
“What?” Della laughed softly as she reached for her bonnet. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting it.”
“There is nothing to admit because there is nothing happening.” Theda slipped her shoes on quickly, avoiding Della’s knowing look. “I do not have romantic feelings for Jem. He’s injured, alone, and frightened. Anyone with a heart would feel sorry for him.”
“Mhm,” Della repeated.
Theda sighed dramatically. “You are impossible.”
“And you are blushing.”
“That’s because you won’t stop teasing me.” Theda shook her head.
Della only smiled wider. Theda gathered her shawl around her shoulders and moved toward the wagon opening before the older woman could continue tormenting her.
“I’ll see you later,” she said quickly.
"Have fun making breakfast for your patient," Della called after her. Her tone was a sing song voice that made Theda giggle. She enjoyed Della's light-heartedness.
Theda shivered as she climbed down from the wagon into the damp morning air.
Rain still drizzled lightly overhead, misting across the wagons and turning the trail muddy beneath her boots. Most of the camp was only beginning to wake. Fires crackled softly through the gray dawn while sleepy voices drifted between wagons.
Theda pulled her shawl tighter around herself as she hurried along the line of wagons, trying very hard not to think about Della’s words.
It was ridiculous. Jem was simply her patient. Yes, he was kind. And thoughtful. And far more handsome than was probably convenient. That did not mean anything. Even so, her heartbeat seemed to quicken the closer she came to her wagon.
She slowed abruptly when she noticed several children crowded around the back opening.
Caleb Crenshaw, lanky and fourteen years old, leaned halfway inside while nine-year-old Nora balanced beside him, her braids damp from the rain. Little Edmund, only four, bounced excitedly between them.
“Did you really forget everything?” Nora asked eagerly.
“Even your birthday?” Caleb added.
“What’s your favorite color?” Edmund demanded loudly.
Theda blinked in surprise. They were interrogating Jem. The children always made their rounds about the wagon train. Every family knew them. They were both curious and friendly. The perfect combination to make everyone else’s business their own.
Jem sat propped against the side of the wagon, looking mildly overwhelmed but strangely amused.
“Well,” he said carefully, “I’m afraid I don’t remember my favorite color either.”
“That’s terrible,” Nora declared. “I don’t know what I’d do if I forgot my favorite color.
“You’d just remember it again when you saw it, because it would still be your favorite.” Caleb shook his head. “Silly,” he muttered.
“Not true!” Nora shook her head. “I might see another color first, and like it and think it was my favorite, and then it would be because it was the first color I liked, and I’d never know I had a different favorite color.”
Theda covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“It does sound rather unfortunate,” Jem admitted solemnly.
Edmund tilted his head. “Do you remember cows?”
A smile tugged at Jem’s mouth.
“Yes. I do remember cows.”
Theda finally found her voice.
“All right, all right,” she interrupted, stepping forward. “You three are going to wear the poor man out before breakfast even starts.”
The children turned guiltily toward her.
“We were only visiting,” Caleb said.
“And asking questions,” Nora added.
“Lots of questions,” Jem muttered under his breath.
Theda fought back a smile.
“Jem still needs his rest.”
Nora clasped her hands together hopefully.
“Can we come back later? Ma says that the stranger is going to leave any day now, and that we will barely remember he was here in the first place.”
“Oh.” Theda tried to hide her reaction to Nora’s admission. “Maybe another day,” Theda said gently. “Once he’s feeling stronger.”
The children reluctantly agreed before hurrying off through the wagons, Edmund nearly slipping in the mud as Caleb grabbed the back of his coat.
Once they were gone, silence settled briefly between her and Jem. Theda looked back toward him.
“Good morning,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry about the children.”
To her surprise, Jem shook his head. “I actually enjoyed their visit. They seemed so happy to see me.” He chuckled. “Some of their questions were a bit unexpected and invasive, but I suppose it is a small price to pay.”
“For what?”
"Companionship, friendship." He shrugged. "Who are they?"
“Their family is heading west to try their hand at a farm. They seem more like a city family to me, but knowing those children, Edmund, Nora and Caleb, they’ll adapt in no time.”
“They all seem very lively.”
“They are at that.” Theda laughed again. “Do you want to get out and walk around a bit while I prepare breakfast? Phineas will join us soon.”
"That sounds nice." Jem scooted to the edge of the wagon and eased himself down.
Theda watched him, admiring how much he'd healed under her care.
Soon, he'd be as good as new and would hopefully remember where he was trying to go before his accident.
The thought brought her as much sadness as it did relief.
Where would he go if he remembered? And why did she hate the idea of him leaving?