Page 58 of Wagon Train Promises
Cecil pulled his lips in. Marnie didn’t offer her son any reassurances, proving just how weak she was. Those who were sick could have anything from dysentery to cholera. And Louise was over there, breathing the same air they did. Touching them. She was a nurse. He’d never be able to persuade her to leave them.
He took a swig of his coffee. But it stuck halfway down, and he coughed.
Walt reached for Bertie’s hand. “Hey, big guy, why don’t we pray for everyone to get well?” He bowed his head and prayed aloud. “Father in heaven, the God who does wonderful things for us every day, we humbly plead with You to heal our camp of this illness?—”
“Amen,” Bertie yelled.
Irene’s chuckle was weak.
For the third time in a few minutes, Louise assisted Marnie to the bushes. She almost carried the woman back. Pa hadn’t moved in an hour but roused enough to put his arm around Marnie as she lay beside him.
The hours passed painfully slow. Louise spooned the cooled water into Marnie’s mouth. And held cups to the others’ lips. She’d taken something from her bag and managed to get them all to take a spoonful.
Her nursing skills were revealed when she used different dishes and spoons for each.
Hazel sat beside Cecil at the edge of the invisible circle Louse had drawn and watched. Petey played at her knees. “Not Ma. Please not Ma.” She gripped Cecil’s hand. “I don’t know what I’d do if?—”
“Louise is doing all she can.”
Her gaze found him across the space, dipped to his hand clasping Hazel’s, and then jerked away.
“Lou—never mind.” What could he say or do in the present circumstances? Except tend the livestock. He pushed to his feet and strode to where they grazed.
He met Joe coming toward him, leading his horse.
“There’s a remedy the Natives use. Perhaps it will work for white man. I’ll be back when I find what I need. You’re on watch.” He swung into the saddle, gave a quick salute, and rode away at a mile-eating lope.
Cecil’s damp boots squeaked as he walked to where the animals grazed. They were content to be idle. And the rest was good for them. Yeah, like they hadn’t had plenty of rest over the past five days.
The hours passed quietly, apart from the song of the birds, the gurgle of the river, and the chewing of the oxen.
Walt came out to take his place as dusk fell. “I’ve eaten. Bertie’s eaten. Hazel has food for you.”
Cecil took two steps toward camp and stopped. He was anxious to see how things were, but what if they weren’t good? He came round to face Walt. The tautness of the flesh across his brother’s cheekbones made Cecil’s insides tighten.
“How is everyone?” he asked.
Not looking at Cecil, Walt shook his head. “They’re not good. Marnie—” His voice broke. “And Irene.”
Cecil had never heard that tone in Walt’s voice.
“Joe’s gone for something his people use.” Cecil meant it as encouragement.
“I know. I hope he’s back in time.”
Cecil wanted to offer words of comfort. But he had none. “We must trust God.”
Walt maybe meant to smile, but it fell short. “Yeah. What is it Marnie says? We do our best and trust God with the rest.”
With a half-hearted nod, Cecil made his way back to camp, his heart feeling as cold and heavy as his feet.
Louise stumbledas she fetched more boiled water. Three days and nights she’d tended the sick. She was weary clear to the marrow of her bones. Sleep was impossible. Gabe hadn’t gotten any worse, but Irene, Angela, and Ruby had. The medication Louise gave provided only a little relief.
Her concern was Marnie. The diarrhea continued. She swallowed only a spoonful or two of water before she curled up clutching her stomach. She was now so weak that Louise half carried her to the bushes.
“Louise, you need to rest. Let me help.” Cecil’s soft words made her straighten. He’d offered, even threatened, several times.
“No. There are enough sick already.” Her insides spasmed to think that Cecil might get whatever this was. He had to live in order to take care of Hazel. Thank God above that neither Hazel nor the baby had shown any symptoms.
