Fired Up (7 page)

“Red Wolf is resting at Luke's cabin,” Glynna said.

As always, the mention of Luke's name had an almost miraculous effect in gaining Anemy's cooperation. Despite the risk to Luke, because he was now exposed to the measles, they'd have never been allowed to help the Kiowa if he wasn't here working beside them.

Dare left the poultice. Glynna, with Anemy's and Paul's help, tended the children through that night and the following day.

A wail went up through the village too often. Glynna knew it meant another had died. The children held on. Dare, on one of his visits, said their fevers had lessened. Of course, the sickest had succumbed before the group from the S Bar S had arrived.

Glynna only knew the day passed because of the fading light. She was still on her knees, replacing poultices, bathing fevered bodies, dosing willow bark.

Dare came into the teepee. “I'll watch the little ones. There's food. Go eat and get a few hours' sleep.”

Glynna lifted her eyes from the little girl she tended. Only then, as if she felt the effort it took to focus on Dare, did she realize how near to collapsing she was. “I can keep working.”

“The children are asleep right now. They won't struggle as I examine them and listen to see if their lungs are clear. This is a good chance for you to get yourself something to eat and then a little sleep. I promise I'll wake you if I need help.”

“You need sleep, too,” Glynna said. She wanted to say more, but she noticed Paul had fallen asleep where he sat. His head was slumped forward and his eyes were closed.

Glynna stood and stumbled. Dare caught her and prevented her from tumbling onto her patient.

“You're done in, Glynna. Take a break now. I need you rested.” Dare didn't let her go.

Glynna realized she was leaning almost all her weight on him. In the dim light of the teepee fire she saw the strength in Dare. He'd been up for just as long as she had, and he'd been hurt in the avalanche.

“How's your back?” she whispered.

His blond brows arched in surprise. Then his mustache bent upward in a tight smile. “Believe it or not, I forgot about my back. I reckon that means it's okay.”

It couldn't begin to be okay, but Glynna knew he'd never quit working, so she didn't bother to chide him. She just stood there, supported by him, another burden. Their locked gaze seemed so open, as if she could look into his soul and see his need to heal, his grief when he failed, and his strength to bear what he must.

“You're a fine doctor. I don't care what papers you've earned or not earned.”

“No, Glynna, I—”

She rested her fingertips on his mouth to stop his protest. “We can argue about what you should be doing with your life another day. Save your energy for doctoring these good people.”

The prickle of his mustache on her fingers reached well past her hand until she seemed to feel it all up her arm, into her heart. Her very tender, very untrusting heart.

Lifting her hand away, she stood on her own two feet. They were too close, and she was drawn to him like she'd never been to either of her husbands.

For one moment he leaned closer, and she thought he'd kiss her—and even hoped it.

A soft cry from one of the children had them straightening away from each other.

Dare jerked his head toward the teepee entrance. “Go. Take Paul and you two get something to eat. One of the women made stew. Make sure to savor it—you won't get too many chances to eat buffalo.”

Glynna decided retreat was a wonderful idea. Besides, being near Dare right now was too confusing. “Wake me when it's your turn to get some sleep.”

Dare's eyes flickered to her lips, then away.

She turned to awaken Paul and saw he was watching them. Paul sprang to his feet and with two long strides was face-to-face with Dare and swung a fist. Between exhaustion and surprise, the fist landed hard on Dare's chin. The unexpected attack nearly knocked Dare into the fire.

Glynna cried in horror and caught Paul's arm as he drew back for another strike. “Paul! Stop that right now!”

Dare stayed on his feet, rubbing his chin and staring at Paul.

“You keep your hands off my ma. Leave her alone. She doesn't need another man. She's got me.”

“Paul—” Glynna began.

“No!” Paul wrenched his arm from her grasp and turned on her. For one terrible second she wondered if her son would now hit her. She saw Dare gather himself as if he would step in to protect her. It made Glynna sick to think of Dare and her son fighting. Dare would win, a tough man and fully grown. Another terrible failure for her son.

Paul didn't swing. “You told me there'd be no more men. Not without my blessing.”

Glynna was shocked at how deep her son's fury went. She searched for her authority as his mother. “Paul, there's no reason to think—”

“You're a liar.”

“No, I've told you no lies.”

“I should've killed Flint for what he did to you. I should've killed my own pa. But I was too weak to do it.” Paul turned to Dare. “I'm not anymore. You stay away from my mother or I'll kill you.”

Paul looked as serious as the tomb as he stormed out of the teepee.

Glynna exchanged a helpless look with Dare, then hurried after her son. At the teepee entrance she turned back to see Dare, still rubbing his chin, looking at her, his eyes blazing . . . though she wasn't sure with what. Anger? Regret? A man's interest in her?

She needed to learn how to live without a man. She had to do that if she wanted to do right by her son. But Dare's eyes, burning with blue fire, seemed to want her to forget all she needed to do.

She turned away before she made another terrible mistake. She couldn't trust her future to another man, no matter how appealing he was. She pushed herself on out of the teepee to find food and sleep and
sense
.

Dare barely noticed time passing, barely noticed the daylight from the nighttime. He ate when he could, slept when he collapsed, doctored the living, and laid out the dead.

The howl of the wind woke him. He was sleeping by a fire, outside, in the center of a circle of teepees. The sun peeked over the horizon and lit up a wall of red rock on the west side of the canyon until the world seemed to catch fire overhead.

He lay in the dark depths of the canyon and listened for the wail of grief or a moan of pain. He heard neither. Shoving himself to his knees, he realized the entire village was asleep. That hadn't happened since he'd arrived.

The last patient had turned a corner in the night. Most likely no more would die. He tossed wood on the fire and stirred the embers to life. As the flames grew and crackled, he saw all his friends sleeping around the fire. Glynna—who'd avoided him like he was a rabid skunk since her reckless fool of a son had slugged him in the face—wasn't here. He remembered that she'd gone to sleep in a teepee
with Anemy. There were places to sleep in abundance because so many of the Kiowa hadn't survived.

His relief at knowing the worst was over darkened, and the weight of his failure rested like stones on his shoulders. As if that avalanche the other day had buried him alive.

Could a more skilled doctor have saved more of these folks? Of course there was no other doctor. The choice was between him and nobody, but he still felt his lack every time he lost a patient. Driving both hands deep into his hair, he sat back on his heels and bowed his head.

Please, God, let it be over. Let it be true that no more of them die.

A drumbeat of hooves drew his attention, and he rose and stepped away from the fire to help his night vision and to make himself a harder target.

A rider raced for the camp. Luke and Vince vanished from their bedrolls so swiftly and silently that Dare barely knew they were ready for trouble. The crack of a cocking gun came from the direction Luke had gone.

“It's Red Wolf.” Luke stepped back into the light, holstering his gun. “He made it.”

Dare wondered how long it would be until Luke started running a fever. Usually it took a week or two after a person was exposed to the measles. He realized he had no idea how long they'd been here. When they got back to the S Bar S, he'd ask Ruthy. She seemed like the type to keep track.

Vince came back to the fire when he heard Red Wolf's name and sat down, rubbed his face, and let his shoulders sag with exhaustion.

Several teepee flaps opened. Dare saw Anemy step outside.

“Red Wolf!” She said her husband's name with a cry of pleasure.

Red Wolf charged straight into the campsite and leaped off his horse to drag Anemy into his arms.

The reunion was so affectionate, Dare looked away, feeling as if he were intruding on a private moment.

As sick as Red Wolf had been, he should've been laid up for a week. Had he healed fast, or had they been here in the camp that long?

Luke strode over to his Kiowa friend, who released Anemy and turned, smiling. The two men shook hands firmly, and Luke clapped Red Wolf on the back.

They were dressed differently, but Luke, with his Italian heritage and deep tan, was nearly as dark as Red Wolf. They could have been brothers.

Their pleasure at seeing each other again helped Dare to let go of his sense of failure. After a few moments, Red Wolf slid his arm around Anemy and held her close as she spoke of what had happened while her husband was away. Red Wolf's grief was there for all to see, even in the dim morning light. He pulled Anemy close, and she buried her face in his strong chest.

Glynna stuck her head out of the teepee Anemy had emerged from, drawing Red Wolf's eyes. At first she watched the reunion in front of her, then turned away, as if it was too painful to see two people so much in love. Glynna's gaze fell on Dare. Their eyes locked.

Had Glynna never been held with that kind of tenderness?
Paul had spoken of his father with as much anger as Flint Greer. Dare wanted to go to her, tell her it could be like this between a man and a woman. Then he remembered Paul's killing rage and the fist that had nearly knocked him on his backside. Being with Glynna would only hurt the boy, and that was the last thing Dare wanted.

Dare had to try to help the boy get rid of his anger before it destroyed him. But how? The kid was so angry, he couldn't say a civil word to Dare. It wouldn't be easy, and it had nothing to do with Dare's interest in Glynna, but the young man needed to be saved from his own fury.

He fought down the urge to teach Glynna the kindness a man could show. Maybe someday when her children had healed.

The day was spent tending the ailing Kiowa, but most of them were on their feet now, the rash fading, the coughs easing, the fevers all but gone.

Red Wolf was much more fluent in English than Anemy, and the day went smoothly, with no new grief.

“The disease is no longer contagious,” Dare told Red Wolf.

Frowning, Red Wolf carefully repeated, “
Con tay juss?
What is this?”

“It means the red spots will no longer spread from those who are sick to those who are well. It means the rest of your people can come home now.”

With a satisfied nod, Red Wolf asked the other healthy man in the village to search for the rest of their tribe and tell them the good news.

As the man hopped on his horse and galloped away, Red Wolf turned to Luke. “Our people will return in time for the moonrise. Many of our tribe are not happy with the whites. They blame them for the red sickness that killed so many. It is best you leave. But I thank you, Luke. And you, medicine man.” Red Wolf solemnly nodded at Dare. “I know good and evil cannot be judged by the color of a man's skin.”

“Will you be near my home for long?” Luke asked Red Wolf.

“Many years the herd goes no more south. The grass is deep. I believe this will be our winter hunting ground.”

“Then come to my home again, and bring Anemy. I'd like my wife to meet her.”

Red Wolf's deeply weathered face brightened. “We will come. Your wife is a fine woman. I owe her my life, and Anemy has told me how you worked to save our people. You can remain on Kiowa land for yet another year.”