Keeping Faith

Chapter Two

Joseph stood staring after Victoria’s enchanting, black-clad figure, and considered, as he had dozens of times in these past weeks, that this journey could be his chance to correct past blunders. Yes, she had misunderstood his actions at the worst possible times, believed some wild tales about him that were completely untrue, and yet if he was picking up on the right signals, her heart was trapped in the same position as his. After all these years. It amazed and humbled him.

In spite of all the past tensions between the two of them, his father’s machinations to marry him off to another woman and whatever Matthew had convinced Victoria to believe, Joseph suspected, with growing excitement, that something within her wanted to block out all the efforts made by others to keep them apart.

Not that he would want his old friend—and perhaps foe, at least in romance—to die in order for Victoria to see the truth about their enduring love. Joseph was no romantic. Most folks married for the sake of necessity, and they had good, strong marriages. But for Joseph, there had always only been Victoria.

It mystified him still. Some people were meant to be together; he and Victoria were two of those people. He’d known it since their first kiss, his first desire to marry her and take her out of St. Louis and carry her home to meet his family.

If anyone should feel slighted about that time, it should be him. He’d merely wanted to introduce his soon-to-be fiancée to his family and friends at home, take her with him as he cared for family, being the oldest son.

Yet Victoria would have nothing to do with that; she detested slavery, and his father owned slaves in Georgia. Yet would she be gracious and allow him to prove his convictions to her? No. She merely rejected him. He had determined on his way back to St. Louis from Kansas Territory that he wouldn’t be so easily kowtowed this time.

Ahead of him, the woman who occupied his thoughts nearly slid to the ground. He caught up with her and reclaimed her arm, because if she fell again she could end up as a patient instead of the much-needed doctor. He resisted the impulse to remark on what she’d just said. She was right; this wasn’t the time to debate old hurts.

Right now they had people to see to, when what he wanted to do was gather some strands of her disabused hair and tuck it away. He loved the color of that hair, which matched a golden Missouri sunset. Though he also loved the shimmering blue of her eyes, he was glad they were walking side by side, because he didn’t want to meet her gaze.

This was not the time to explain why he’d avoided her and Matthew when they were married or admit the chink in his armor when it came to her. That would require a much longer conversation. Later.

As they strolled toward the others, he saw that McDonald and Reich had things well in hand.

“I apologize for not responding to the news of the death of your intended.” Victoria’s voice could bite with such gentleness that he barely felt it until the meaning struck him across the face. “I didn’t know about her for months.”

He cut her a glance. “I wrote to you.”

“I received nothing.”

“You should have.”

“And yet, somehow, I didn’t.” She snapped the words, as if she didn’t believe him.

“Now I’m a liar?”

She cut him a look of confusion. “I don’t know what to believe, Joseph, and I haven’t for a very long time. I only know you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“Of course I’m not. Then I was barely more than a rank youngster. People do grow, you know.”

She cast a glance toward the Johnston boys. “Let’s hope that’s true.”

He wasn’t going to let her take her jabs and then change the subject that easily. “I didn’t get engaged.” He thought about his dear childhood friend, Sara Jane. Despite Father’s wishes, Joseph and Sara Jane would never have married. He’d loved her like a sister, a trusted playmate from years before, who had grown into a fine woman and who was secretly betrothed to a man from Atlanta. She’d told Joseph all about it and he’d been happy for her. Though heartbroken at her death, losing her wasn’t the reason he’d turned his back on plantation life.

“That catastrophe was the result of my dying father’s desire to build an empire for his oldest son using a legal bond between a neighbor’s daughter and me.” Joseph kept his voice low. “Neither Sara Jane nor I were complicit in that arrangement, only our fathers. We were determined to break the supposed engagement together, but she sickened and passed away before any formal announcement could be made.”

There was a long silence before Victoria spoke. “I see.”

“I’m not sure you do. How did you hear of my father’s plans?” he asked.

Her arm stiffened in his grasp, but he held on and tried to catch a glimpse of her expression, see what she was thinking. He’d been able to do that once upon a time, but she held her own counsel as her attention focused on the crowd.

“Victoria?”

“Matthew told me of a letter you wrote to him.”

“He received my letters and you did not? Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Why would I think it odd? From my perspective, you had forgotten about me and found someone else.”

Joseph gritted his teeth. How this woman could drive him to distraction with her stubbornness. “You didn’t at least read Matthew’s letter for yourself?”

“Mine and Matthew’s was a business partnership. I didn’t read his personal mail, nor he mine.”

Joseph took a moment for those last words to sink in. As they did, he continued to doubt his own perception. “Business partnership? You and Matthew?”

She tugged her arm from his grasp, and he realized he’d stopped walking. He caught up and fell into step beside her again.

“It was a socially acceptable way to form a partnership and spend all our time together as he taught me medicine,” she said. “You must have some grasp about how much there is to learn.”

“Dr. Fenway?” called Audy Reich from Mrs. Ladue’s side. “Hon, I think we need you over here.”

After a final look at Joseph, Victoria gathered her skirts and hurried toward the group huddled beside the raging creek. Joseph watched her for a moment, stymied. The Victoria Foster he had known and loved before she’d married Matthew Fenway would never have lied. But Matthew had always been an honorable man. If Victoria didn’t receive those letters, then who did?

* * *

Claude was still gagging and coughing up creek water when Victoria reached him. Luella sat on the ground beside her son. Although Victoria gave her an assuring nod, she felt ill equipped to give her friend any kind of assurance.

“Boy’s swallowed lots of water.” McDonald’s voice was gruff as if from years of disuse in his solitary search for trails. “Luella did, too.”

“No, see to Claude,” Luella said. “I’ll be okay.”

Victoria tugged Claude onto his side as the creek continued to pour from his mouth. “We’ll take care of all of you. Mr. McDonald, would you brace him for me?”

She saw Joseph watching from a distance, waiting for a signal. She nodded, and he returned it. Time to get the treatments started.

Heidi wrapped her arms around her mother, sobbing. Luella’s hair was drenched with mud that covered her clothing and face. Victoria took both mother and daughter into her arms.

“This is horrible.” Luella’s whispered words came out staccato from her shivering body. She twisted her work-worn hands in her lap.

Victoria grabbed the blanket a man offered then wrapped it around Luella’s shoulders. “I know. Take deep breaths—try to relax.”

“I just lost Barnabas last year.” She looked at Victoria with frightened eyes. “To think that I might’ve lost my Claude....” Luella’s sobs came in silence, as if from long practice, and Victoria held her more tightly. “Captain Rickard and the men are gathering logs. This won’t be comfortable, but we’ll do what we can to keep you well.”

Luella nodded, sniffing. “I’m sorry. I know you lost your Matthew last year. You know how it feels.”

Victoria felt like an imposter.

Mr. Reich knelt beside them, jerking his head toward the water. “Think we’re far enough from the danger, Doc?”

Victoria glanced at the creek, which, if anything, carried more refuse than before. “I believe we should find our way farther up into the forest for safety.” She helped Claude and Luella onto their feet, dreading the consequences of this awful day.

* * *

McDonald walked over to Joseph. “I’ll go get more logs, Captain, unless you’d rather I go knock those Johnston boys’ heads together.”

Joseph thought about it a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll deal with them. But I think we have enough logs for now. Just don’t go trying to cross the creek before morning.”

McDonald nodded and turned to help the others move closer to the wagons. Joseph made his way toward the Johnston boys as they stretched out their rope and leaned crazily over the floodwaters to wash off the mud.

Buster, eighteen and full of vinegar, had a longish face and sharp features that made him look serious and much wiser than his years. Much wiser than he actually was, for sure.

“That clumsy oaf got the rope all tangled and then dropped one end into the water,” Buster said. “We barely caught it before a log could get tangled in it. Then the mud just fell out from under him and we couldn’t get him out.”

“He isn’t clumsy.” Gray glared at his brother in an unspoken reprimand. “We tried to grab him.” The younger brother was by far the smarter of the two, but Buster controlled him like a pet dog. “I almost had him, but then he caught that old stump. I told him to hold on and I’d get the rope.”

“And you didn’t think to pull him out?” Joseph demanded.

“What was he supposed to do?” Buster asked. “We needed the rope for that. Couldn’t reach him any other way. He was too far out.”

“His mother didn’t have any trouble getting to him,” Joseph said.

“He’d floated farther down by then.” Buster’s voice rose with youthful outrage. “I was trying to get the rope untangled so I could throw it out for him to catch.”

Joseph reached for the rope in question. “I’ll take that if you don’t mind.”

Buster refused to release it. “Hey, you can’t take my dad’s rope away from us! We’re going to need it.”

“You mind telling me why you felt it was so important to stand over here and plot to cross the creek when you’d been ordered not to?”

“We would’ve waited for the right time.” Buster’s contrary attitude had begun to irritate Joseph from the first day the boys joined them. Buster also knew how to egg on the younger boys. He was a natural leader—a dangerous quality in one so pigheaded.

Joseph stepped forward and loomed over Buster until the boy released the other end of his prized rope. “You need to think past the end of your nose, Johnston, before you get someone killed.”

Buster grimaced and looked away. “Claude’s fine, isn’t he?”

Joseph glanced over his shoulder, where Victoria had moved up the hillside with her patients. “No thanks to you, he’s safe for now, but if he or any of the others get sick from swallowing contaminated water, I’m holding you boys responsible. You could have kept half the camp from risking their lives if you’d followed my orders in the first place.” He turned and walked uphill toward the rescue team.

“We’re going to need that rope to get across the creek,” Buster called after him.

Joseph looped the item in question over his arm, ignoring Buster’s protest. Instead of waiting at his brother’s side, sixteen-year-old Gray followed Joseph—a habit he’d begun to develop soon after joining the wagon train three weeks ago. Joseph suspected it was one reason Buster acted out so often.

“You should help your brother move that wagon away from the water,” Joseph told the boy. “You never know about flash floods.”

Gray snorted. “He won’t move it.”

“You don’t think it’s in a dangerous place?”

“You think my opinion matters to him? I’m his stupid little brother.”

“I need you to help me with the patients, then.”

The boy looked up at Joseph, eyes brightening.

“If I find out what Dr. Fenway needs, will you gather the items and help with treatments?”

Gray ducked his head. “Sure thing.”

“Don’t stare at the patients while they’re being treated.”

“No, sir.”

“Go check on Claude.”

Without a word, Gray did as he was told.

Joseph watched Victoria. She moved quickly between her charges, but she had a comforting voice that obviously soothed everyone who heard it. Her eyes softened as she assured Luella she would do her best to protect everyone from any contamination, and then examined a cut on Luella’s arm. She gave Heidi orders to run back to the wagon for supplies.

She finally looked over her shoulder to find Joseph watching her. He beckoned for her to join him for a quick word. She hesitated, then excused herself from the others.

“Yes, Joseph?” She looked at his hair, which he knew hung over his forehead in untidy black strands. Once upon a time she would have reached up and straightened it for him; he couldn’t help hoping she would at least attempt to brush the sawdust from it.

But her hands remained at her sides as she waited for him to speak.

He cleared his throat. “What’s your complete plan of action, Doctor?”

“According to a Dr. Snow I spoke with in England last year, cholera is definitely caused by bad drinking water, hence my concern, of course. As I’ve stressed, we have no idea how much contamination that creek is carrying with it or how far north it started. Everyone who was in the water could be in danger if they swallowed anything, and that cut on Luella’s arm worries me.”

“Is there no treatment to prevent them from developing the illness?”

“I wish there was. We can try to force as much water from them as possible.”

“More than rolling them over the logs?”

“Yes. I wish I’d brought ipecac,” she said. “But I had an order that didn’t come in before we left. I’ve sent Heidi for some salt and pure water. If we can give them salt water to drink and then dilute what’s left with clean water, it’s logical we could ward off some contagion,” she said. “Thank you for gathering the logs for us. I know it’s a long shot, but we’ll take what we can right now.”

“I’ll help with that.”

As he turned to leave, Victoria touched his arm. “Wait, Joseph. They don’t listen to me as they do to you. Some of the people are still hovering too closely to the water for my liking. That bank could collapse with them at any second. We need to move them into the forest.”

He took her hand, which was still soft despite her habit of taking turns at the reins of the mules pulling the Ladue wagon these past four weeks. “Except for Buster Johnston, I think the rest are willing to listen. I’ll do all I can.”

“I appreciate it.” She returned to her patients.

Victoria had once told him his touch gave her strength she didn’t know she had. He missed her touch. He’d lain awake too many nights out on the trail during the years after his father passed, and he’d recalled her gentle touch, the feel of her lips against his, the sparkle of her tears when he’d left her for the plantation with the belief that it was his responsibility to take over the running of it as the oldest son.

Victoria hated slavery. They’d disagreed about it often, but he hadn’t changed his mind until he’d arrived at the plantation. He’d felt a kick of knowledge in his gut for the first time. He’d seen slavery from her eyes, heard her voice in his head and knew he would not be able to stay. He planned to return to St. Louis and walk back into Victoria’s arms a changed man. That had never happened.

Oh, he’d changed, all right. He’d been ravaged by bitterness upon arriving back in St. Louis and finding that Matthew had for sure taken care of Victoria. He’d married her.

And Joseph became a man who led others across country, and saved his money and brooded about the treachery of the friend he’d once trusted and the woman he still loved.

* * *

“My friends, it’s time to start treatment.” Victoria leaned over Luella and nodded to Joseph, Mr. Reich and Mr. McDonald, who held others over the logs, facedown. “This won’t be comfortable, but we need to try to prevent contagion if we can.” She raised her eyebrows at Joseph and they got started.

Despite all, she couldn’t prevent a lingering look at Joseph. He appeared to have everything in hand, up to and including a threat that if the Johnston boys didn’t move their wagon they might well lose it. Buster didn’t listen.

Despite Joseph’s deep, calm voice and manner, the anxiety in Victoria’s belly tightened like a snake she and Matthew had once seen wrapped around a man’s arm when they journeyed overseas. The man eventually lost his arm. What was this wagon train going to lose as a result of this catastrophe?

The clouds lifted as she worked with Luella, but the sunbeams didn’t lighten her spirits. Too much could go wrong, and she felt the burden of responsibility for these people. Would Matthew have done this? Would he have had other options? When working with him, she’d felt confident in her abilities, but after losing her mentor she’d lost that confidence, despite the obvious approval Matthew had always shown for her skills.

Luella gagged on the cup of salted water.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Victoria said, holding her friend as the poor woman lost the water she’d swallowed.

Luella nodded and took another sip.

Victoria watched Joseph repeat the same actions with Claude and one of the younger men. He worked with such gentleness. What a good doctor he would have made. If she’d known ahead of time the heartbreak that would ensue after she refused to accompany Joseph to his parents’ Georgia plantation, would she have gone? What a mystery about the fiancée, Sara Jane. She’d never forgotten that name, and she needed to know more. What would their lives have been like now if she’d given in to his pleas to go with him? They would never know.

She studied Joseph’s firm-set chin, his narrowed eyes. Then she allowed her gaze to wander across the expanse of his shoulders, the corded muscles down his neck. When he’d first walked into the clinic last month, she’d nearly rushed into his arms, all dignity abandoned. It was a good thing she’d learned better self-control in her profession. Memories of her husband’s murder seven months ago, however, had returned in a tempest. Seeing Joseph had made her feel safe for the first time since her widowhood, despite old resentments from their past.

And yet, was she safe? Were any of them safe? She could still close her eyes and see that telltale hoofprint of the horse Thames had ridden the day he’d killed Matthew. She’d seen them on this very trail a couple of days ago, that distinctive print packed into mud and left to harden.

After her first sighting, she’d tried to tell herself the horse would have been reshod by now, but what if the horseshoe was shaped to the hoof? If that were so, then it would be easy to track him across the state. She just needed to make sure he didn’t track them.

She would tell Joseph about the whole thing as soon as she knew for sure. Maybe she could find more tracks once they crossed the creek. Fresh tracks in the mud, perhaps?

She was just finishing with Luella and checking the others when a whoop and a loud cry reached them from the wagon camp.

“Oh, Lord, have mercy!” Audy Reich called out from her perch beside the fire where she’d been soaking beans to cook. She jumped up and ran through the trees toward them. “I hear some mighty cracklin’ from up north. Captain, better get that young man away from there. Something big’s coming down that creek!”

Chapter Three

Loud pops resounded through the forest like shots from a rifle. Hundreds of rifles in excruciating succession. But Victoria knew that sound. She’d heard the same several times when caught in an ice storm and the ice grew so thick on the branches that they broke. Limbs were breaking.

The creek had claimed another tree, and this one was a giant. She glanced downhill at the creek and saw a huge shadow being thrust forward by the water—for sure a giant tree uprooted. Its limbs grasped out toward everything near the swollen creek, and from the vantage point of the hill on which she stood, she saw the tree wrenching with it other trees, rocks and mud, creating a dam that blocked the motion of the water.

The creek spread and splashed far above its banks. The dam would break at any second. She could hear the creaking of wood and rumble of water under pressure. The forest blocked her sight of the place where Joseph had left Buster moping beside his wagon near the creek.

“Buster!” Gray’s shout of horror bled into the roar of the water. He shot through the trees and down the hill toward his brother with the speed of a wildcat.

Joseph and Reich leaped forward and raced down the hillside behind him. Heidi started to cry, and her mother put an arm around her.

Mr. Reich’s voice rang out through the valley. “Get away from the creek!”

The man’s voice boomed with authority, but Victoria knew how little regard Buster had for that. She left the others and followed the men, sliding through the waterlogged forest, bracing against the trees until she reached a ledge where she could see directly down the hill. What she saw terrified her.

* * *

Joseph caught up with Reich, bracing for a wall of water to come crashing down on them at any moment. He couldn’t forget his friend Johnston who’d scouted for Joseph a couple of years and once risked his own life to save Joseph from a rampaging brown bear. It would destroy Johnston if his sons never made it out of Missouri.

Gray reached Buster seconds before Joseph and Reich. He grabbed his brother’s arm and gestured wildly toward the impending dam break.

Buster turned and looked up Flat Creek. “No! We have to get the wagon first. Gray, help me!”

“You can’t save it now, Buster,” Joseph called. “It’s too late. Get out of there or you’ll be killed.”

Buster broke free of Gray’s hold and lunged for the wagon hitch. “It’s all we’ve got.”

“You still have your life,” Reich said. The big man reached for Buster’s arm and dragged him from the hitch. “Now, boy. You’ve got to come now! Gray, get back up that hill. Go on!”

Gray hesitated. “Buster, they’re risking their lives for you. Don’t let more men die for you!” His expression held fury and horror as he obeyed Reich and ran.

Joseph heard another series of deafening cracks and looked up to see the water pour past the dam of debris. The fountain of water became a flood, and then the natural dam gave way with the sound of thunder. Joseph joined Reich to jerk Buster from the oncoming tempest of an evergreen with limbs the size of horses, which reached past the farthest edges of the flooded creek bank.

“My gun!” Buster shouted. “Gotta get my gun.” He turned back toward the wagon.

Joseph nodded to Reich, and together they lifted the brazen young man between them and ran.