Plots and Pans (41 page)

Her aunt kicked her legs, tossing the hem of her skirt upward and revealing her ankles and feet. Jess gasped. Desta’s ankles were so swollen, Jess didn’t see how her aunt could have gotten her shoes on that morning, much less walked around helping with breakfast.

She crawled inside the tent, reaching to feel her aunt’s forehead and drawing her hand away covered in sweat.
Fever
.

That was all it took to have her stumbling away from the canvas and racing for the horses. When she reached the remuda, Jess didn’t bother asking Porter for a saddle, even though two of the men were bound to be off duty and their gear would be free.

I don’t know how long she’s been feverish or what to do about it
. Panic thrummed through her as she spied a horse near a convenient rock and vaulted onto its back. Winding her fingers through its mane and leaning forward, she pressed her knees together. The pony understood, as the best horses always did, and headed for the rope serving as a gate for the makeshift enclosure.

Porter opened it and Jess spurred her mount forward, racing in the direction she’d seen Tucker take with Ralph. Not knowing exactly where to go, Jess was surprised to find herself praying. Nothing fancy or formal or probably even coherent. Just a string of thoughts and frantic pleas, sent to the Father who might not answer in time to save Aunt Desta.

It didn’t matter. Jess had to ask for the help anyway. For the first time she understood what her aunt had meant, about prayer being one of the ways she could do her part. Jess wasn’t in control, but at least she had a direct line of contact to the One who was.

As the horse flew over the landscape, she searched in vain for some sort of tracks to guide her way. But traveling with a herd of cattle made short work of any imprints, so she started scanning the horizon instead. It seemed to take hours, but finally she spotted two figures on horseback.

Twining her hands in the mane even more tightly, Jess urged the horse faster, ignoring the unstable sway of the creature beneath her. She hadn’t ridden bareback in almost a decade, but it didn’t matter. For all she knew, minutes might make the difference. And if not, they made a difference to her because she knew she’d given all she had to find help.

By now the men caught sight of her and were weaving their way around cattle, coming to meet her. Jess barely managed to keep her seat and not go flying over her horse’s head when they came to a stop. “Desta’s sick!”

Until she tried to talk, she hadn’t realized how hard she’d been crying, or how hard it was to take a breath. “Fever-swollen feet,” she catalogued. “Must be alkaline p–p–” She couldn’t get out the last word.

It was too terrible to be true. Desta couldn’t really be poisoned… . She would be all right… .

“Deep breaths.” Tucker’s voice broke through her anxiousness enough that she was able to obey. When she started breathing more regularly, he rode up right alongside her, slipped an arm around her waist, and tugged her off her horse and onto his.

“Oh!” she gasped, still crying, but surprised and already somewhat calmed by the warm strength of his arms around her as he settled her across his lap.

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you, Tucker?” she pled, desperate to hear that her aunt would be all right. That she hadn’t given Desta a death sentence by convincing her to come on the cattle drive.

My stubbornness got Papa kicked by the bronco, and now it’s got Aunt Desta, too. Lord, I didn’t mean any harm. How can I be responsible for the deaths of two of my closest family members? She can’t die
.

“Ralph’s already on his way to check on her.” Tucker didn’t tell her everything would be fine, and Jess couldn’t hold back a ragged sob.

“Take me back to her?” she half asked, half demanded.

“Ralph’s gone to her. But I know a homestead hereabouts who might be able to give us more help. We’re going there.” The simple fact that he had a plan went a little way toward easing her mind.

“Help is good,” she agreed. “Let’s go get help.”

“We will. But first I need you to hang on so we can put on some speed. Wrap your arms around my waist or my neck, whichever’s most comfortable, and lean your head against my chest.” He sounded so wonderfully sure of himself, authoritative and in control, that Jess didn’t think twice.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest and finally finding comfort in the strong, steady beat of his heart.

“Poisoning from alkali salts,” Ralph confirmed, stepping down from the buckboard after arriving at the homestead. He stood by the wagon, reaching down toward Desta. He hesitated, glanced at Tucker, then went ahead anyway. Gently, he used the back of his finger to brush a lock of hair from where it had fallen against her forehead and stayed, stuck against her fever-flushed skin.

Tucker wasn’t surprised by the tender gesture—he’d seen Ralph sneaking pockets of time to sit with Miss Desta, and at some point, even
he’d
realized what an idiot he’d been when his friend worked on the garden. It hadn’t been the desserts that put a spring in Ralph’s step—though they certainly hadn’t hurt any.

The gleam in Ralph’s eyes hadn’t been the Light of Pies Past. No. The something sweet he’d go the extra mile for had always been Miss Desta. Tucker had been so busy keeping an eye on his own preference for savory spice, he hadn’t noticed. Jess had a way of occupying his imagination the same way Miss Desta distracted Ralph.

If they could get her through this—and get Jess through helping Desta get through this—what a pair of pairs they’d make.

Ralph’s bass rumbled with remorse. “I shoulda guessed. She bin tired, but kept sayin’ as how she’d sleep after our talk. Asked if she drank enough water, and she’d tell me yes.” His Adam’s apple bobbed before he finished. “I shoulda done more. Shoulda made sure.”

“We’ll make sure she’s taken care of now.” Tucker reached up and clapped Ralph on the shoulder, wanting to bolster him without mollycoddling in a way that might embarrass them both after this ended. “You already started—looks like you lined the buckboard with every bedroll from the outfit.”

“Yes. I didn’t want her bumpin’ and jouncin’ around and hurting herself any worse.”

“Good idea. The Burles are giving up their bed for her, so it’s all ready and waiting inside. Just as soon as we figure out the best way to move her—” Tucker broke off as Ralph leaned over the side of the wagon, carefully slid his massive hands beneath the unconscious woman, and lifted her as though she weighed no more than one of those bedrolls.

Ralph crooked his arms slowly, tucking Desta tight against his chest before heading for the door with a slow, measured tread. Without another word, he opened the door and disappeared inside.

Jess waited in the tiny homestead house, her nervous pacing making Mrs. Burle bustle about in a great hurry without actually accomplishing much. All the extra movement in such a crowded space was just the sort of thing to drive Tucker crazy in a real hurry. So he’d left the women stoking the fire, folding blankets, tightening bed ropes, plumping pillows, boiling broth, and heaven only knew what else they’d gotten up to.

It was a real shame Miss Desta wasn’t awake to appreciate the warm welcome. Tucker figured there were queens who hadn’t been received with such care. But it was Ralph’s stricken expression and stoic determination that really brought home the severity of her condition.

Until he’d seen her lying in the bed of the wagon, insensible, Tucker held out hope that Jess went a little wild in her reaction. It would’ve been understandable. After all that time away, to come home and discover her aunt made for a wonderful surprise. Losing that aunt mere weeks later over something as senseless as alkali poisoning—particularly so hard on the heels of her father’s death … Jess might never recover.

Lord, protect the ones I love. Especially Desta now. She’s come so far, Lord, and been so brave in opening her heart. Please grant her healing, and share Your peace with Jess and Ralph as we wait to see Your plans revealed. Amen
.

Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly started toward the small house. Desta wasn’t the first person he’d seen fall victim to alkali water along the trail, but it still surprised him. Cooks usually stuck close to the water barrels and zealously guarded their contents to keep them cool and pure.

Because of that, cowpunchers out riding the cattle with nothing more than a canteen were the ones who succumbed to the lure of any water that looked reasonably clean. Not the cooks. It made him wonder how Desta came to be the one afflicted.

Because if it happened to Desta, it could just as easily have affected Jess. Tucker stopped midstep then broke into a run. Icy fear prickled across the back of his neck.
I didn’t check. What if Jess is affected, too, but not showing the symptoms as quickly?

In no time, he burst through the door, knocking it into Ralph. The big man looked like he was trying hard to shrink down and stay out of the way, but in spite of his best efforts he swallowed up half the space. Tucker stepped around his friend, knowing nothing could convince him to leave the room so long as Desta lay there.

“Jess!” He reached out and snagged her wrist, tugging her around a table and swinging her a bit so she sat on a chair. “Stay put.”

Having given his order, Tucker knelt down before her, reached beneath her skirts, and pulled her foot toward him. He propped her boot atop his raised knee, one hand wrapping around the heel, the other sliding beneath the fabric of her skirts to cup the top of the boot, where it lay against the soft skin of her calf.

Ignoring her splutters and Mrs. Burle’s squawking, Tucker curled his fingers and pulled. He paused then repeated the motion until he’d worked the boot completely free of her foot. Thin black stockings, warmed from close contact with her flesh, covered an ankle every bit as trim and dainty as he remembered seeing it in the kitchen that first night.

Just to be sure, Tucker smoothed one hand along the light fabric, down the front of her leg, stopping to gently massage her ankle before sweeping forward over her foot. Once he was satisfied that she hadn’t started swelling, he reached back for her boot and helped her step into it again.

“No other signs?” He didn’t whisper with everyone crammed in so close, but kept his voice low. “No stomachache? Sore throat? Dizziness?” At each symptom he listed, she shook her head. And with each shake of her head, Tucker felt a little better.

He rose to his feet, careful not to touch her now that the diagnosis was done. No matter how much he ached to keep touching her, he owed her more respect than to take advantage of her distress.

“I have to see to the herd and make arrangements to pass them off at Caldwell. It’s not far, so don’t worry.”

“When will you come back?” The bleakness darkening her gaze tore at him, especially when he saw her hand lift as though to touch him, then twitch and fall back to her side.

Neither of them were ready to let go, but they both knew they had work to do before they could hold tight. The memory of how sweetly Jess clung to him on their ride for help spurred him. For a brief time, she’d turned to him and found comfort in his arms. Tucker wanted to provide that comfort whenever she needed it. Just so long as she needed
him
.

“Soon,” he promised, and he meant more than just when he’d return. Yesterday he’d told her to take her time. Now, in light of Desta’s condition, Tucker knew he wasn’t willing to wait much longer. He coveted every moment they could spend together.

He nodded to Ralph on his way out the door. “Take care of them for me.” Tucker saw Ralph nod his acceptance of the charge as he walked through the door, moving fast.

The quicker he could settle the cattle, the sooner Tucker could return.
Because once I’m back at Jessalyn’s side, no power on earth is going to make me leave
.

G
o on, now.” Desta waved her hand at Ralph, trying to hide her weakness. “Get yore hide outside and soak up some sunshine for a change, Ralph Runkle. Yore fading like leaves in wintertime, and I don’t aim to be responsible for you turning white as a ghost.”

“Don’t think to be sassing me with such nonsense.” He shook his head, but the smile she so loved to see gleamed once more.

“Sassing?” Of course she was. If that was what it took to help him break past his lingering expectation she would up and die on him, Desta would sass the man clear back to the Bar None.

But first, she wanted a few minutes with her niece.

“Now, is that any way to be talking to a woman who darted past death without so much as an inch to spare?”

“‘Zactly so. You say you sidled past Death himself ‘cuz he gave you an inch and you took a mile. Well, I’ll learn from his mistake and keep you even closer.” He hunkered down, sitting on his heels so he could meet her gaze. “I don’t plan to ever let you get past me, Desta.”

“I wasn’t gonna try,” she whispered, then shook her head and reached for a handkerchief. “But you can’t go making me all teary. After you and Jess poured half a lake down my throat to help me get well, I can’t be wasting water on womanly foolishness.”