Across the Rio Colorado (26 page)

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Authors: Ralph Compton

BOOK: Across the Rio Colorado
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McQuade laughed. “I'm glad he's feelin' better, but I don't believe he'll be riding south in the morning.”
“That damn sawbones is a snitch,” said Creeker.
“He's one more smart
hombre,
” McQuade said, “and you're not going anywhere until he says you're ready.”
When Doctor Puckett reached the wagon, he found Mary there, and she had managed to persuade Maggie to eat.
“I was about to take these dishes to be washed,” said Mary. “Maggie, I'm going to stay with you tonight, and I'll be back.”
“You needn't do that,” Maggie said. “I must get used to being alone.”
“You'll never be alone,” said Mary. “You have friends. Now hush. You don't want the doctor thinking you're a fussbudget, do you?”
“That's what I am,” Maggie said. “He might as well know now as later.”
Puckett laughed, hoisting himself up to the wagon's tail-gate. Mary took the dishes and left them alone. After a long silence, it was Maggie who finally spoke.
“You were kind to come, Doctor, but I'll be all right. It was like … facing the end of the world, and I … I didn't believe I could.”
“We are all stronger than we realize,” said Puckett. God gave us
all
that extra something that we can call forth at a time such as this. My mother always said He never closes one door that He doesn't open another. We must look for it with eyes of faith.”
“Your mother taught you well,” Maggie said softly. “I've heard many a preacher that didn't make as much sense as you. Mary has a bible. Would you … read the Word over Ike tomorrow?”
“Certainly,” said Puckett, “if that's what you wish. Do you have a favorite passage?”
“No,” Maggie said. “I wasn't brought up in the church, but I'm a believer. Do you … have a favorite passage?”
“Yes,” said Puckett. “Several of them, in fact. Did Ike have the faith?”
“He did,” Maggie said. “He swore a lot, but mostly at the mules. They're a bunch of jugheaded varmints that don't understand nothin' else.”
“As long as he had the faith,” Puckett said, “you don't have to concern yourself with where Ike is. When I read over him in the morning, I'll turn to one of my very favorite passages. You listen closely.”
“I will,” said Maggie. “I believe Ike's gone to a better place. Really, it's me that I … I'm concerned about. God knows, I got nothin' to go back to, and with Ike gone, there's nothin' ahead but a land grant I can't work by myself. I'm a selfish woman.”
“In your position there's nothing selfish about concerning yourself with the future,” Puckett said. “Maybe I can brighten that future a bit. I am not just flattering you when I say I have been impressed with your nursing ability. While I don't know what lies ahead for me in Texas, I don't expect to be working a land grant. As the West becomes settled, there will be a need for doctors, and doctors will need nurses. With just a little help, you can become a very capable nurse. Will you allow me to help you, to further develop your potential?”
“Lord, Doctor, I … I don't know what to say.”
“Say you'll do it,” Puckett said. “Anybody can work a land grant, but it takes special people to tend the sick.”
Maggie had forgotten her misery, and caught up in what Puckett was proposing, had taken a seat beside him on the wagon's tailgate.
“I'll do it, Doctor, if you'll help me,” she said. “God knows, I need something—some purpose—if I'm to go on living.”
“You referred to yourself as a selfish woman,” said Puckett, “when it's me that's the selfish one. I'm trying to begin my practice on the frontier with my own dedicated nurse.”
“This has been the darkest day of my life,” Maggie said, “and I'm thankin' you from the bottom of my heart for helpin' me to go on.”
“Get what rest you can,” said Puckett, “for we still have to say farewell to Ike in the morning. But through it all, remember you have friends here, not the least of which is me. Goodnight.”
Then he was gone, a departing shadow in the starlight. Mary had been waiting in the darkness beside the wagon, a smile on her face. Waiting another minute or two, she spoke.
“Maggie, I brought you a fresh cup of coffee.”
“Thank you,” said Maggie. “Come sit with me for a little while.”
“I'll stay until you finish your coffee. Then you need to get some rest.”
So much had happened during the day, McQuade gave up any thought of sleep. There were hot coals and a fresh pot of coffee, and he spent much of the evening talking to the others who were as sleepless as he. When he took over the second watch at midnight, he was surprised to have Mary join him.
“I've been talking to Maggie since Doctor Puckett was there,” said Mary, “and I'm so excited, I'm wide awake. You can put your mind at rest about Maggie. The doctor's got plans for her. He wants her to become his nurse, when we reach the Rio Colorado.”
“She'll likely become much more than that,” McQuade said. “I think Doc Puckett is a lonely man.”
“Chance McQuade, what an outrageous thing to say. Ike's not even in the ground.”
“Oh, hell,” said McQuade, “don't lay that proper preacher's-daughter voice on me. I know Ike's yet to be buried, but this is the frontier, and a woman shouldn't be
alone. I'd say before Maggie becomes a nurse, she'll become Mrs. Doc Puckett, and I don't care a damn if it's proper or not. It'll be good for them both.”
Mary laughed. “I couldn't agree more.”
McQuade made his hourly rounds, stopping occasionally to speak to Doctor Puckett, who had taken up residence near the coffee pot.
“All those with serious wounds have fevers,” said Puckett, “and I'm expecting them all to break before morning.”
“That's good news,” McQuade said. “Seriously, when do you believe Creeker will be well enough to ride?”
“Give him another two days, and he should be able to manage without hurting himself. That is, if he doesn't overdo it.”
“I'll see that he doesn't,” said McQuade. “He's used to riding, and it won't be as hard on him as it might be on someone else. Besides, we need to get him out of your wagon.”
“I'm in no hurry,” Puckett replied. “I think he's been needing some time with Lora. He had to fight Rufus Hook for her, and they slipped around in the dark after Hedgepith took over.”
The night wore on, and with the dawn, McQuade made preparations for Ike's burial. It was a duty he didn't relish, and while they owed it to Ike, he wanted it over and done before breakfast. He didn't know Maggie had asked Doctor Puckett to read the Word over Ike, until Mary handed him the bible. McQuade, with the help of Gunter Warnell, Eli Bibb, and Will Haymes, lifted Ike's coffin out of the wagon.
“Allow me a few minutes in the wagon,” said Maggie. “I must get my Sunday best from the trunk.”
Everybody had gathered for the burying except those who had been wounded the day before. Even Creeker was there, Lora by his side. Most of them—even the Burkes—wore the best they had. Doctor Puckett was dressed in a solid black suit, white ruffled shirt, and a flowing black
string tie. McQuade thought he looked more like a preacher than a doctor. Maggie soon emerged from the wagon, dressed in black.
“We're going to open the coffin and hold the service here,” said McQuade. “Those of you who want to follow it to the grave are welcome to do so.”
McQuade lifted the cedar lid of the coffin and stood aside, allowing one and all to file past for a last look at Ike Peyton. McQuade stood next to Maggie, an arm around her shoulders. She would be the last to stand before the coffin. Finally it was time for her to be led to it, and while there were tears, she bore up well. Her tears had been shed the night before. Doctor Puckett stood at the head of the coffin and opened the bible.
“I am reading from chapter eight of the book of Romans,” said Puckett.
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.
Moreover, whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified.
What shall we say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?
“There is much more that I could read,” said Puckett, closing the bible. “But Ike does not need it, and it is better for those of us left behind to read it for ourselves. For if we seek God, it is because we already have Him, for He has given us the faith to believe, for faith, like salvation, is a gift from God. We believe Ike had both, and that his immortal soul has returned to the God who claimed him before the foundation of the world. Let us pray.”
The prayer was short. While many followed the coffin
to the grave, Maggie did not, nor did Mary and McQuade. Maggie was calm, McQuade eyed Puckett with new respect, and it was Mary who spoke.
“Doctor Puckett, I have heard my father preach many times, and he was an eloquent and dedicated man, but I've never heard anything more moving than what you just said.”
“Thank you,” said Puckett. “It's what I believe, what my ancestors have believed, and what Christ taught while here on earth.”
“All Ike's tribulations are behind him,” McQuade said. “It's those of us left behind who still have a long trail to ride.”
“You can have your wagon, McQuade,” said Maggie. “I'll return to my own, and when we take the trail again, I'll take the reins.”
Doctor Puckett laughed. “Are you going to swear at the mules?”
“If the varmints need it, I can rise to the occasion,” Maggie said, looking him in the eye.
“It's been a long night,” said McQuade. “Let's have some hot coffee and breakfast.”
On the Brazos. July 5, 1837.
Those who had been wounded in the Comanche attack were much improved, all threat of infection behind them. Creeker, following Ike's burial, hadn't returned to the wagon.
“The hard floor of the wagon was hurtin' me more than the wounds,” he said.
“We'll wait two more days,” said McQuade, “and then we'll ride south.”
There was no further sign of the Comanches, and the only enemy was boredom, as the days dragged on. McQuade took advantage of the time, speaking to many
of the men about the defense of the wagons while he and Creeker were away.
“I don't care how quiet and peaceful it seems,” McQuade told them. “I've heard this before, and I'll swear to the truth of it: when you don't see Indians, it's time to worry.”
But Mary seemed possessed of some premonition, and for the two days and nights before McQuade was to go, she worried constantly.
“My mother was like this,” she said defensively. “That's all I remember about her, but just when it seemed everything was going well, she began to worry.”
“Damn it,” said McQuade, “when you go courting trouble, it always meets you more than half way. We must find Sam Houston's militia before we go any farther with all these wagons. Creeker and me can get ourselves and our horses out of sight in a hurry, but not these wagons. Once we near the Rio Colorado, we'll have to know exactly where we're going. We can't just pick up these wagons and put 'em in our pockets.”
“I know,” she sighed, “but I haven't forgotten the day you and Creeker were attacked by the Comanches. You were near enough for help to reach you. This time, you'll be far away from us, and Sam Houston's militia won't know you're there.”
“It'll be up to us to find them before the Comanches and Miguel Monclova find us,” said McQuade. “There's some risk involved, but not nearly as much as taking this wagon train with us before we know exactly where we're going.”
“There's something I'm supposed to ask you,” she said, “and I … I'm …”
“Afraid?”
“No,” said Mary, “that's not the word for it.”
“Then ask,” McQuade said impatiently. “I promise not to hit you.”
She laughed nervously. “Oh, I know you better than
that. Lora Kirby asked me if she can stay with me while you and Creeker are gone. I told her I'd ask you.”
“Why would you have to ask me?”
“Well,” said Mary, “because of … of what she … was … before Creeker.”
“Forget what she was,” McQuade said. “By God, if the Burkes can change, anybody can. The woman needs friends, and she's never goin' to have them, if the rest of you all keep your noses out of joint because of what she once was. Didn't your daddy ever speak to you about such?”

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