Authors: Mary Connealy
“No.” Julia had too much hardship in her future. Rafe wouldn't leave her alone to deal with it. “No, I'll stay and see you through this. All of it. Get your pa fixed up, make sure you're safeâwhether you go or . . . stay.”
She said, “Thank you,” so quietly Rafe read her lips more than heard the words. Turning to her father, she slipped past Rafe, knelt by her pa's side, and set her basin of steaming water on the floor.
Rafe turned and went after his brother. “Ethan!”
Ethan wasn't in the tiny cabin, but he appeared at the outside door holding the baby . . . still. Ethan didn't seem to notice he had a child in tow.
“Did you spend time fighting in the war?”
Audra was bending over a pot of steaming water hanging from a hook at the fireplace. She gasped, then dropped her pile of rags and rushed over to snatch her baby away from Ethan, as if he were going to war at that moment and taking Maggie along.
Ethan studied Audra for a bit too long, then turned to Rafe, his brows arched. “You want to talk about that now?”
“No, I just wonder if you've seen any . . . any doctoring that might help us.”
“I didn't go to war. I went north. Spent time logging here and there. Went on to California and sailed the ocean some. War didn't interest me.”
“Okay. Then, I need Steele. Ride back to the ranch and get him.”
Ethan flashed that charming smile. But there was a look in his eye that reminded Rafe his little brother didn't like taking orders. Not one bit.
“Do it.” Rafe looked very deliberately at Audra, who stood watching every word that passed between them.
Rafe pushed Ethan outside and around to the back of the house.
Rafe could make out Julia moving on the other side of the thin, sagging wall, so he spoke quietly.
“There's something I hope Steele can do that I can't.” He hated to admit he couldn't do something, but . . . amputating a man's arm. Well, any notion of how to go about it was better than none, which was what Rafe came equipped with.
“It'll be hours going there and back.”
“I know.”
Ethan leaned close. “He may not have hours, Rafe.”
“I know that, too, but I don't think I can do it. We don't even have what we need.”
A hacksaw
. “Tell Steele what's wrong, and he'll get the . . . supplies.”
A hacksaw.
“Then get back here.”
With a hacksaw.
Ethan gave Rafe a long, quiet look.
It took everything Rafe had to admit, “I don't know what else to do, Eth.”
“Neither do I.” With a jerk of agreement, Ethan left to cross the creek.
Rafe went back inside.
“Julia.” Rafe got the little general to come out from the bedroom. He looked between her and Audra. “There's no way to say this except straight out.” Rafe tried to figure out a way to soften the news. “Wendell's arm is too badly infected. If we want him to live, we've got to . . .” Rafe swallowed hard. “His arm . . . It's . . . If we don't do . . . something drastic, he'll die.”
Audra reached an unsteady hand out, and Rafe caught her wrist to steady her and relieved her of the baby. “You mean . . . ?” She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Cut it off?”
Julia's face went bone white, and she sat in a chair a bit too suddenly. Rafe braced himself to catch her if she fainted. If he wasn't careful, he could be trying to catch all three females in the next few seconds.
“I sent Ethan for Steele, the foreman at my ranch. Steele served in the War Between the States. I hope maybe in the war he saw some doctoring like this. He knows some healing tricks. I don't know how to do what I'm sorely afraid needs to be done. I'd probably kill him trying to save him. Plus, I need a . . .”
Hacksaw.
Rafe suppressed a shudder. “A tool you don't have. I can't image how I'd handle this with what's on hand. And maybe there's something we can do short of . . . of . . .”
“Amputating his arm.” Audra said it with a steadier voice than Rafe. He decided that maybe he'd underestimated how much strength she had. Or maybe she just really didn't like her husband and didn't mind the thought of causing him a load of pain.
“I'm hoping Steele can help.”
“I expect we'll need a new batch of hot water.” Audra turned to the fireplace.
“Audra . . . Mrs. Gilliland, what ails your husband is beyond what hot water can cure.”
Audra didn't turn to face him. She stood by the fire, not moving for far too long. At last she reached for a basin, protecting her hand with a small towel, and began ladling from the steaming pot that hung from a hook over the crackling fire.
“Until there's more to do, we'll do what we can.”
Julia prayedâprayed hardâwhile she bathed her father's arm.
She unbuttoned his shirt, and her hands bumped against his stupid cigar cases. She lifted her eyes to glare at a wooden box full of cigars. It sat in the corner of this room, in a house that barely had food and clothing. Disgusted, she jerked the cigar cylinders out of his pocket and tossed them against the far wall. They rolled into a crack between the wall and the floor, and Julia was glad to see them drop out of sight.
But she knew how much her father loved his precious cigars and he was never without them, though there used to be just
one
case. As those cylinders disappeared, it struck her hard that she would never have dared to discard those cylinders if she had any hope.
Then she slipped her father's shirt off.
And it got worse.
Red streaks reached up to his neck and leeched out onto his chest.
Amputation wasn't going to do any good.
As she worked over it, the wound opened and she daubed at the poison until it ran red with blood instead of the ugly yellow.
She'd been at it so long that her knees were aching and her back protested her bent-over position. Her fingers were bright red from the hot water. As she pressed on the wound to open it more and drain every ounce of the poison from it, she thought of the pain she was causing and, wishing she could apologize, looked up to see her father's eyes flicker open.
He tried to pull his arm free and groaned, clutching his wounded right arm with his left hand. “Stop your fussing. Let go.”
“You're awake.” Julia quit doctoring and dropped her cloth in the hot water. She reached for the basin of cold water, wrung out the rag and laid it on his forehead.
“What's going on?” He lifted his right arm to push her away but checked the movement with a groan of pain.
“You've got an infected cut. You're running a fever.” She might be having one of her last conversations with her father.
“I love you.” She wasn't sure if that was true anymore. But it had been once. Before Mother died. “I'm sorry I worried you and Audra. I got in a . . . in a tight spot out hiking.” No sense burdening the poor sick man with details.
His bleary eyes cleared, and he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in what seemed like years. His sullen expression faded, and Julia remembered he'd been a kinder man once.
“A rancher found me and brought me home.” Now wasn't the time to discuss any of what she'd learned about her father in the last day. Now was the time for another kind of talk.
“Do you believe in God?”
They'd never attended church. She'd learned of God from her mother, and she read her mother's precious Bible daily. Once Audra came to live with her, they'd worshiped together.
Ignoring her question about faith, he said, “You've got the look of my mother's family, the red hair. But I see your ma in you, too.” He reached for her and gasped in pain. The pain brought him back to the present, and he scowled. “Where's Audra? I need to talk to her.”
“Father, you're very sick. You need to decide where you want to spend eternity. You need to believe in Jesus as the Son of God. You need to confess your sins to Him andâ”
He tossed his head restlessly. “I don't want you nagging at me. Audra knows when to shut up.”
“She's making soup for you. While she dishes it up, I want to ask you to make a confession of faith to God. Father, you may not get another chance.”
“Get her in here.” He looked half mad with fever and rage. “I don't want soup.” He fumbled at his pocket with his left hand. “What happened to my cigar case?”
“I laid it aside. It's here.”
“I want it.”
“You can't smoke now, Father. You're barely conscious.”
“I want Audra in here. She'll mind me.” His voice rose to a shout. “Audra!”
Julia gave up, for now. “Audra, he's awake.”
Audra was at the door, holding Maggie. Julia had heard all that her father had admitted to Audra and that Audra had hit him, though Julia knew better than to think Audra carried much power in her fists. But that didn't mean her father wouldn't be cruel.
“Get out, Julia. I want to talk to my wife.”
“No.” She'd been protecting Audra from her father almost since the day they'd been married. “I need to see to your arm. Go ahead andâ”
“Get out!” Wendell's roar barely bothered Julia. She'd heard it many times before. It had always shaken Audra badly, though. Maggie jumped and started to whimper.
“Go on, Julia.” Audra spoke quietly, but with a strength Julia hadn't heard before. “We need to have a talk, your father and I.”
“She'll mind me whether you tell her to or not. I'm the head of this house.” Profanity laced every sentence as he ordered Julia out. He lunged at her but was too weak to even sit up. Julia turned, kneeling at Audra's feet. She saw Audra studying those ugly red streaks. Their eyes met. They knew whatever talking was done now might be the last.
“Please, go. Take the baby.” Audra extended her heavily laden arms.
Julia rose to take Maggie just as another stream of filth came from her father's mouth. Tears rolled down Maggie's face and she cried louder. But Audra looked calm and unruffled.
“I'll be praying for you, Father.” Julia gave him one last look, then clutched her precious baby sister in her arms and slipped past Audra just as Rafe appeared in the doorway.
He looked with contempt at Wendell, who was still shouting at Audra. Then Julia saw his eyes go to those lines of infection. He understood everything. Including why Audra was putting up with the shouting and Julia was following the vile orders.
“Audra?” Rafe's voice distracted Father from his yelling.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Wendell demanded. “Don't I know you?”
“What is it, Rafe?” Audra ignored Wendell. And Rafe didn't waste his time reminding the man of their brief meeting yesterday in Rawhide.
“I'm just outside. I won't put up with him hurting you. All you need to do is holler.”
“Thank you.” Audra turned to Wendell. “This is Rafe Kincaid, the man who brought Julia home.”
Rafe stepped back to let Julia pass, then followed her outside.
Rafe looked at Julia with the baby in her arms and was confused by how pleasant it was. He had no memories of his ma and babies. Seth was close enough in age that by the time Rafe could remember much, they'd all been running wild outside, winter and summer.
Rafe and Julia walked away from the house. Downhill rather than up toward the creek that led to the cavern. The cabin was in a pretty spot. The mountain they were on swept downward, then rose up again to a flat-topped mountain a few miles away to the west. Rafe saw the slender trail that led around it and no doubt went into Rawhide. Julia was right. It was probably only about five miles away.
A ledge with a level path topping it led to a small corral where Wendell's horse stood grazing. Rafe guided Julia toward the corral to put some space between themselves and the house.
“If . . . No, I mean
when
he dies . . .” Julia lifted her chin and held the little one close.
Rafe's heart beat hard to see a woman stand strong. His ma had never lifted her chin in her life. She was more the slumped shoulders, bowed head type. But here Julia stood, her shoulders square, her green eyes fierce, her messy red hair wild and alive and fiery.
She still hadn't cleaned up from her ordeal in the cavern. Blood on her dress, her hair in snarls. She'd been too busy tending to business, caring for her father and stepmother and baby sister, to take care of herself. Too busy ordering Rafe and Ethan around, too.
“We'll have to figure out where to go. Back to Houston? Into Rawhide? North to Denver? What about the men he stole from?” Julia shook her head. “All I know is, we can't stay here.”
“You don't have to make any decisions right away. When is Audra's baby due?”
“Maybe two months.” Julia shrugged. “Maybe one. Maggie's just over a year. This one came along so soon.” Julia turned to give the baby a gentle smile and tickled her little sister's soggy chin. “Audra's not sure when it . . . when it . . . began.” Julia glanced at him, her cheeks faintly pink, then looked down at the baby in her arms and drew one finger over the child's tear-streaked face.
The little girl grabbed for her hand with a happy squeak, then bounced. All the fear brought on by her father's cruelty forgotten. Rafe stopped, out of hearing distance from the cabin.
“I don't know how strong Audra is,” Rafe said. “But she looks like a wind would blow her over. A long journey right now might be more than she can take. I think you should come back to Kincaid Ranch. We've got room there. You can stay until the baby comes and Audra has regained her strength. Then decide.”
“We can just stay here.” Julia caressed the baby's back and the tyke's eyes drooped. She leaned against Julia's chest and nodded off as quickly as if someone had snuffed out a light.
“Do they always fall asleep like that?” Rafe didn't know much about babies.
“Maggie does. She's the only baby I've ever been around. Let me go lay her down.” Julia vanished before Rafe could stop her. He suspected she went back in as much to check on her pa and Audra as to put the baby to bed. She was back right away.
“How's it going in there?”
Julia shrugged. “I heard them talking quietly. The door was closed, so I left them some privacy.”
“Julia, it's not safe for you and Audra to stay out here alone.”
“I know.” Julia ran her hands up and down her arms like she was cold. The day was warm, even though there was a light breeze. So her chill must have come from inside. Rafe knew how that was.
“Father started doing this not long after Mother died. We moved real suddenly. That was the first time. I know he had a general store back then because I'd been in it. He bought a house in the country and had his store in town. He'd come home only Saturday nights and Sundays. I got myself to schoolâif I could find a school near meâand lived alone after school.”
“Completely alone?” Rafe wondered at such a lonely life. He'd been terribly lonely since Ethan and Seth had left, but he'd been a man grown, and he'd had the hands and the ranch. He wasn't truly alone.
Julia gave him a rueful smile. “Being alone was usually preferable to being with Father. I was glad to see him head for work. Before he married Audra, it didn't matter.”
Rafe thought of a little girl, growing up too much alone. It
did
matter.
“I got so I roamed the hills. I was about ten when my mother died and old enough to see to myself and the house, at least after a fashion.”
Rafe remembered being ten. He and his brothers had run wild just like Julia. But they'd come home to a warm meal and two parentsâexcept when Pa was gone tending his traplines. One was a grouch, the other cried too much. But at least they were there. And there were hired hands around the place. Not the same at all.
“After Mother died, we moved to Illinois. Father set me up in a house way out of town. He left me. Said he'd be back in a week. I found a cavern there and started to explore. That's where I found my first fossil. In my wandering, I also found a school. It was a long walk, but I showed up at the door every morning and they let me attend. I had a teacher who loved geological things, and he was full of stories of rocks and caverns and ancient beasts that roamed the earth and were now long gone. He let me borrow books from him and he even gave me my first copy of the
Proceedings
. I took that interest with me wherever we went.”
“Fossils, huh? Old bones. Never figured those were of much use.”
Julia smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe not of much use, but definitely of some interest.” Her eyes flashed with sudden excitement that dispelled the sadness weighing her down. “In the cavern here, the one you call Seth's Cavern, there is so much to study. I could spend a lifetime down there.”