Chapter 25
Theda was up before the sun.
She built the fire, set the coffee on, and sat down to wait for Jem. She had thought through what she wanted to say well enough by the time she'd fallen asleep the night before.
She wanted to look him in the eye and ask him plainly what Tolliver said.
Phineas appeared at her fire with his hat already on and his jaw set.
“I need to get the scouting parties organized before we move out,” he said, accepting the cup she held out. “We're pushing into the mountain stretch today. I want eyes on that trail before the first wagon touches it.”
He drank, handed the cup back, and looked at her. “You all right?”
“Fine.” She forced a smile.
“I know this is rough on all of us. I had no idea Ansel put us in danger like this.”
Theda nodded.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.
“Well, that doesn't make it any better.” Phineas sighed. “Hopefully, we'll be able to get through this without any more incidents. I’ll see you in a bit, all right?”
“Okay.” Theda watched him go. If anyone could keep them safe, her brother could. She only hoped that included Jem.
---*---
The terrain changed within the first hour.
The land rose steadily around them, the trail narrowing as rock pushed in on both sides and the scrub thickened. The air cooled enough that Theda pulled her shawl tighter across her shoulders.
Above them, the ridgeline was sharp against a pale sky. The wagons slowed, each one waiting for the one ahead to clear a tight section before moving forward. Theda walked beside her wagon and watched the trail and thought about Jem.
Is he avoiding me?
She was still thinking about him when a crack split the air.
It was loud enough to carry back through the line, sharp like a rifle shot, followed by shouting. Theda pulled her horses to a stop, staked the reins to the ground, put the brake on the wagon, then raced toward the commotion.
Three wagons back, the Pruitt wagon sat at a bad angle, its right rear corner dropped hard toward the ground. The axle had given way on a section of trail where the rock pushed up through the dirt in uneven shelves. Joe Pruitt was on the ground beside it.
He wasn't moving. Theda pushed through the people already gathering.
Joe was conscious, which was the first good thing.
The second was that he was making enough noise about the pain that she could hear him before she reached him.
The axle had come down across his left leg just below the knee.
Two men had already lifted the corner of the wagon enough to pull him clear, and he was lying on his back in the dirt with his face the color of ash.
“Don't move it,” Theda said, dropping to her knees beside him. “Joe. Look at me.”
“I'm going to check your leg. Stay still.”
She worked quickly and carefully, running her hands along the bone, watching his face for the places that made him seize up. He was going to need splinting, and he wasn't going to be walking on it, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been given the weight that had come down on it.
“Where's Jem?” she asked without looking up from her work. She could have used another pair of hands she trusted.
“Rode out with Phineas and Leland this morning,” Della said from somewhere behind her left shoulder. “Scouting the trail ahead. He was with the guard rotation last night.”
Theda ignored the ache in her heart. Maybe he wasn't avoiding her and was just trying to help.
Joe's brother Walt hovered at the edge of the gathered crowd, turning his hat in his hands.
“Walt.” She looked up. “Come hold his shoulders. Don't let him try to sit up.”
Walt came forward with visible relief at having a task.
“I need someone else who can help us carry him!” Theda called out, trying to stabilize the leg as much as possible. Reverend Jessup appeared at her elbow.
“Tell me what you need.” He stood ready and willing.
“Help me get him to my wagon.” Walt and Declan, you take his shoulders.
She waved Declan in from the crowd. “Reverend, if you and Ansel can get his feet, just be careful, and go slow. Once he’s in the wagon, I can properly clean the cut and set the leg.
” She tried to ignore how Joe was writhing in pain.
The four men moved in unison, lifting Joe.
They did it carefully, Reverend Jessup at the shoulders and Walt at the feet, Declan and Ansel helped too, with Theda walking alongside and watching Joe's face for the moments that were too much.
He made it without passing out, which she was grateful for. They settled him on the pallet inside Theda’s wagon and Walt retreated to deal with the broken wagon.
Theda worked. She cleaned the leg, checked the alignment of the bone, and began laying out her splinting materials in the order she'd need them. Reverend Jessup and Della stayed, handing her things when she reached for them, holding the lantern when the light wasn't right.
Joe had gone quiet, which was either a good sign or a bad one. She talked to him while she worked, asking him simple things, watching his eyes. When she tied off the last of the wrapping, she sat back on her heels and let out a slow breath.
Reverend Jessup set the lantern down.
Della took a step back, then ducked out of the wagon.
“I have to go back and check on Oren and our wagon. I’ll come back as soon as I can. Okay?”
Theda nodded after her. She looked back at Joe, worry stirring in her heart. Had she done enough to help him?
“Would you pray with me for him?” Reverend Jessup nodded toward Joe.
“Please.” Relief swept through Theda. She should have thought of it before, bringing it to God.
“Lord,” Jessup said, in his gentle, low voice, “this man is hurting and he's a long way from home and there isn't much we can do about either of those things except ask you to sit with him in it.
Ease the pain where you can. Keep infection away.
Give him the patience to heal slowly when he'd rather be on his feet.” A brief pause.
“He's in your hands, same as all of us out here. We're grateful for that. Amen.”
Joe's eyes had closed somewhere in the middle of it. Some of the tightness went out of his face.
When Reverend Jessup lifted his head, Theda looked over at him, tears in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said. “Truly.”
He nodded once. Reverend Jessup was pulling back the canvas to climb out when she spoke again.
“Would you--” She stopped. Reverend Jessup looked back at her. “Would you pray for Jem as well? When you have a moment.”
Reverend Jessup studied her for a brief second.
“I already do,” he said. Then he climbed down and was gone.
---*---
Oren had taken over setting up his and Della’s wagon, which freed Della to walk with Theda.
The two of them moved up and down the line through the afternoon, checking in at each wagon.
The mountain terrain had slowed everything, and the mood of the train was tighter than usual.
The news about Tolliver had spread by morning and they were watching the ridgeline with an unease they were trying not to show.
Theda checked on Mrs. Lekowski, whose cough had worsened in the cold air. She looked in on the Wesley baby and declared her thriving. She helped Mrs. Henderson with a poultice for her husband's hands, cracked and bleeding from the dry altitude.
After bidding Della farewell as the sun started to set, Theda wearily made it back to her own way to check on Joe. She was almost back when she spotted Jem, who was coming back along the line toward her.
He was on foot, leading his horse. Jem reached her and slowed.
“Are you all right?” His eyebrow scrunched in concern. “I meant to find you earlier, but I went out with the other scouts, and…”
“Joe Pruitt's axle came down on his leg this morning. I've been occupied.” Theda used her best light tone, hoping he didn't hear how much she'd struggled with the day.
“Is he all right?”
“He will be, at least I hope.” She looked at Jem carefully. The heaviness from the night before was still there, but it had changed shape somehow. “You wanted to talk earlier?”
“Yes.” Jem cleared his throat then stepped forward.
They fell into step together along the edge of the trail, away from the nearest wagons. Jem was quiet for a moment.
“The memories,” he said finally. “They're coming faster now.” He kept his eyes on the trail ahead. “Since last night. Since Tolliver. There are things in them that I'm not…” He stopped. His jaw tightened briefly. “Things I'm ashamed of, Theda.”
He turned to look at her then, and whatever he saw in her face seemed to steady him slightly, because he drew a breath and kept going.
“I need to tell you something. About who I was. About Ransom, and what I was doing before the storm.” His voice was low and even, but she could hear the effort underneath it. “I need you to know all of it, and I need to be the one to tell you, not…”
“Miss Calloway…”
The voice came from inside her wagon and made Theda turn.
Joe. He sounded confused.
She looked at Jem.
“I have to check on him.” Her heart stirred with worry as she went. Would she be able to accept whatever Jem was about to tell her?