Chapter Twenty-Six
Rain lashed across the earth, sinking through Ethan’s clothing and bringing with it a cold that seemed to seep all the way down to his bones. He clenched his teeth together and coaxed the horse forward. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to see more than a few feet in front of his face.
There was the faint clop of hooves nearby as Derek brought his horse to a stop beside Ethan’s own. “We need to turn back!” Derek yelled, yet Ethan barely heard him through the storm.
Derek had been insisting that they head back for hours, ever since the dark gray clouds had rolled onto the horizon.
Ethan had thought that the rain would hold off longer, and even when the rain had arrived, he’d still refused to go back to camp.
It had only been a light mist at that time.
Now they were so close to where they had planned on scouting that it would be a waste to turn back.
Ahead of them, the river bent sharply at the beginning of a forest. Even though the rain was miserable, riding in the inclement weather also provided them the opportunity to see what the trail’s conditions might be like if the weather deteriorated while the whole wagon train was traveling it.
“We’re going to catch our death out here!” exclaimed Derek.
Ethan rolled his eyes and coaxed his horse forward. They were already soaked to the bone. What was the point in going back early? They could return wet having finished what they set out to do, or they could return wet with their work undone. Ethan knew which option he preferred.
“We’ll be fine!” he called back.
Ethan did steer the horse towards a small grove of trees, though, and their canopy was enough to block some of the rain. Derek followed, looking miserable.
“Come on! We could just turn back right now. You could be around a warm fire with Grace shortly. Surely that would be better than this.”
Anything would be better than being out here with you, thought Ethan.
He almost said those words aloud, but he found himself struck by what Derek had said. You could be around a warm fire with Grace.
“Why would you mention her?” Ethan demanded, a little spark of defensiveness lighting inside him.
“Because you’re clearly attracted to her.”
Ethan shrugged. “Most of the camp finds her beautiful.”
“You like her more than most,” Derek said, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Don’t try to lie. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re always looking for her. It’s as if you can’t be comfortable unless you know exactly where she is.”
Ethan suddenly remembered, with embarrassing clarity, all the times he’d searched the camp for Grace, even when he hadn’t needed her.
“And you’re driving her wagon for her,” Derek continued.
Ethan snorted. “That’s not because I like her. Not in that way.”
Not love.
“So you’d volunteer to manage anyone’s wagon,” Derek remarked dryly. “Really, Ethan?”
Ethan clenched his jaw, choosing not to respond to that. “The rain is beginning to die down,” he said instead.
That was only a little true, but Ethan would’ve said anything to get out of this conversation with Derek. He knew his brother—no, this man—well, and Derek would pry and pry until Ethan finally snapped. Ethan would then say something cruel and later regret it.
“You should ask to court her,” Derek continued. “I bet she’d accept.”
Ethan shook his head, a pit forming in his stomach. “Don’t be ridiculous. Even if I was in love with Grace, which I’m not—”
Derek snorted. “Sure you aren’t.”
“—which I’m not,” Ethan insisted more strongly. “I couldn’t give Grace the life she deserves. Besides, she doesn’t love me.”
Derek laughed heartily. “She doesn’t love you? As much as you do for her, how could she not love you?”
“Easily,” replied Ethan, thinking of Zachariah. “I can’t give her the life she’s accustomed to. That’s assuming that I wanted to court her and eventually marry her. Which I don’t.”
Derek groaned exaggeratedly. “You’re not only driving her wagon for her, but also teaching her how to drive it herself! You’re ensuring that she and her family make it to Oregon safely to start a new life together! If I was a betting man, I’d say that’s more than most men have done for her.”
“That’s not because I love her,” Ethan said, his irritation growing. “Stop insisting that I do.”
“Then why is it?” Derek scoffed.
Ethan clenched his jaw harder, thinking it over.
Should he tell Derek the truth? Ethan had never told him much of anything before, much less any kind of secret, but if Ethan didn’t explain, he suspected that Derek would keep teasing him.
Worse, Derek might try to convince Grace that she was in love with Ethan, which she certainly was not.
Ethan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, roughly wiping away the rainwater that had gathered in his lashes. “I have a business arrangement with Grace,” Ethan said gruffly. “It’s nothing more than that.”
“What kind of ‘business arrangement’?” Derek asked slyly.
“She is paying me to drive her family’s wagon. That’s why I’m spending so much time with her.”
“But you do like her.”
Ethan scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You act like I’m a five-year-old boy who thinks my teacher is pretty. Grace Hawthorne is only a friend, and even if I wanted her to be something more, it won’t happen. Leave it alone.”
Ethan urged his horse back into the rain and continued to the riverbend.
The sound of hooves behind him indicated that Derek was following him.
Ethan sighed. He couldn’t decide what frustrated him more, Derek’s insistence that Ethan must be in love with Grace, or Ethan’s own growing fear that he might be.
Ethan knew it wasn’t just a business arrangement, not to him. He enjoyed spending time with Grace far too much for a man who supposedly only cared about payment. And even if she hadn’t been willing to pay him, Ethan still would have willingly spent time with her.
He told himself it was a matter of honor. Ethan had been there when her pa was injured, so he had a duty to make sure Grace and her family were taken care of. If he kept telling himself that enough, Ethan thought he just might make himself believe it.
***
“Ethan, you don’t look well,” said Hannah.
Ethan snorted and continued unhooking the harness from the oxen. “That’s real nice of you to say.”
When he glanced at his sister, she crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern stare. His lips twitched in amusement. That look reminded him a little of how Ma used to look at him and Hannah when they’d been up to some kind of mischief.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” continued Hannah. “Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”
“You been talking to Derek?”
Three days prior, they’d returned from their scouting trip in the rain, and Derek kept insisting they were both going to get sick. Derek seemed fit as a fiddle, but Ethan was…less so.
His head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, and he’d already caught himself staring off into the distance a few times that morning, his thoughts wandering away from him.
“Ethan, I think you need to rest,” Hannah insisted. “You look exhausted.”
“There’s work to be done. I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
Once the oxen were freed from their harnesses, Ethan led them to the nearby patch of grass to graze with the other animals. His sister followed behind him, and without even turning his head, Ethan sensed her eyes on him.
“That’ll be sooner rather than later if you don’t stop,” she said, her voice growing quiet.
Ethan thought for a second, but couldn’t figure out why Hannah had said that or what it was in response to. He furrowed his brow and halted. The oxen ambled forward, eagerly devouring the grass, and Ethan stared at them for a long time.
Time seemed to do something strange at that moment. It skipped ahead, then froze around him, and he had the strangest sensation that he was haunting his own body. Hannah’s hand curled over his shoulder and brought him back to the present.
“Ethan, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine.” The protest wasn’t as confident as he wanted it to sound. “You need to relax.”
Hannah placed the back of her hand against his forehead, and Ethan jumped, partly in surprise and partly because his sister’s skin was icy cold.
“You’re burning up,” Hannah said with a frown. “Ethan, I think you’re really sick.”
“It’s just a little cold,” he said, trying to appease her. “It’s nothing serious.”
She bit her lip, her wide eyes searching his face. Ethan took a shuddering inhale of air, searching for something to say that might comfort her. Hannah had always been overly anxious when someone was ill. Ethan reckoned that came from their ma being so sick for so long.
“I’m fine,” he said again. “I promise I am.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated huff. “You’d say that even if your leg got cut off.”
Ethan forced a smile. “What a gruesome image. Of all the injuries you could’ve picked, why’d you go with that one?”
“Because it sounded the most like you,” Hannah said exasperatedly, her shoulders slumping. “Derek can watch the oxen and help out with the other chores. Can’t you lay down for just a little while? For me?”
Ethan shook his head. He turned back the way he’d come, his sister following him like a stubborn shadow.
“Grace will agree with me,” Hannah said. “I bet she’s already thought you look sick.”
Ethan shot her a sharp look. Why did she feel the need to mention Grace at all? “Grace didn’t say anything to me,” he said defensively.
But if he really did look sick, she would have noticed. How could she not when he’d sat beside her in the wagon for several hours just that morning?
“It doesn’t matter if she didn’t say anything,” Hannah said. “I’ll bet she also noticed that you look tired, but she was just too nice to say anything about it.”
Ethan shook his head. “It’s wrong of you to try and—”
The world swayed alarmingly, and Ethan stumbled. He became dimly aware that Hannah had grabbed his arm to keep him upright, and she was mumbling…something. The words sounded like an indistinct buzzing to Ethan, as if a whole swarm of bees had burrowed into the cotton that filled his head.
“I’m fine,” he said, his own voice sounding like it came from someone else.
Ethan took a few staggering steps forward. Hannah had been wrong. Ethan wasn’t burning up; he was freezing. The air was clammy and wet all around him, though he couldn’t remember when that had happened.
“Ethan, we need to go back to the wagon,” Hannah said urgently, her voice very close to his ear. “You need to lay down. You have no choice now. I’m going to make you.”
A choked laugh came from his throat. Hannah was a tiny whisp of a woman. Ethan imagined her dragging him back to the wagon and hauling him inside like a sack of flour.
And then time did that odd thing again. One moment, they were standing in the grass. The next, Ethan was laying in the wagon. His sister was piling their three quilts over him, tucking the fabric in around him the way Ma always had when it was time for bed.
“What happened?” Ethan tried to ask, but he wasn’t sure if he actually said the words out loud or only dreamed he had.
“You’re sick,” Hannah said, “so I don’t want to see you doing anything but resting until you’re well.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t spend days lying in the wagon. No, there was something important that he was supposed to be doing—that he had agreed to do. But what was it?
Ethan furrowed his brow, his head aching as he fought to remember what it was that was important for him to be doing. He couldn’t quite—
His thoughts kept falling apart, scattering like snowflakes caught in the wind. At last, a realization struck him, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
“Hannah…I’m sick.”
His sister said nothing.