low enough for us to make a safe crossing at dawn, but if we do have rain, we’re high enough up that nothing should touch us.” He looked over his shoulder toward Buster and Gray, where some of the ladies were already sharing blankets and utensils, food and clothing with the Johnstons. At least the young men would be mothered on this trip. Not that being mothered would help them grow up and meet the hardships of life head-on.
Victoria glanced up at him over her shoulder. “You don’t expect more rain?”
He shook his head, and for a moment held her gaze and tried to study the thoughts taking place behind those deep blue eyes. After a few seconds her eyelids fluttered and the shadow of dread lined her face. His stomach grew taut with tension.
He’d seen it twice before—ten years ago, when he received the missive from his family to return to the plantation where his father struggled for his life. He’d also seen that look a month ago in St. Louis when he stepped into Victoria’s office for the first time since he’d left—perhaps as if refining their former relationship might bring still more heartbreak if she were to allow it.
“And now,” she said, “time to prepare that plaster for your ribs.”
Four people met him with questions, and as he answered them, he watched her work. He marveled that the two of them were together in this place after all this time. He made a promise to himself and to God that he would do all he could to keep her safe, no matter what it took, but would that be enough? Would the rogue searching this trail for abolitionists find her? Had he already?
Chapter Five
Five days later, the killer struck. It wasn’t Broderick Thames who destroyed two of their own but the cholera Victoria and the others had fought hard to prevent. She stood in a valley near Shoal Creek, observing the hideous handiwork of the illness that had stalked them to this place. Perhaps the measures she’d taken had only delayed it for a day or two; typically, cholera started its damage within a day. No amount of chamomile tea, mashed black walnut hulls or yarrow root had made any difference for Luella and Claude Ladue in the end. Though the illness had not spread, those two dear people had died.
Victoria’s body jerked every time Joseph’s shovel tossed dirt onto Luella’s grave. Watching his steady movements as he handled the shovel, she sought a sense of comfort despite the events this afternoon. There would be time later for self-admonition. For now, she wanted to escape the pain of the moment and settle on the image of the man so familiar to her. She needed a break from this awful sense of failure and loss. And so she studied him, lost herself in memories, comforted herself by looking at him.
In the ten years that had kept them apart, he’d aged twenty—not in appearance but in maturity—and it looked good on him. It wasn’t so much the evidence of his physical strength that drew her, but his demeanor reflected an inner core of power that she recalled with clarity. The fact that he looked better to her than he ever had was a distraction she welcomed, but at the same time it brought her overwhelming guilt.
Tendrils of Joseph’s straight black hair blew across his tanned forehead at the impetus of a spring breeze. How she appreciated the way his shoulders worked with effortless strength.
She inhaled a silent breath and exhaled deeply. Joseph looked up at her and caught her gaze, his dark eyes shadowed as he paused, barely breathing hard. Along with the powerful build and inner strength came a keen wit. She shivered, though the breeze wasn’t cold. She admired much about him, and her admiration had experienced a recent growth, especially with his tenderness toward her these past days.
But the quality she respected the most was his ability to look at reality head-on. He attacked hardship with all his might and never held back, never waited for someone else to take the lead. He made it clear he was in command of his own heart and mind. How could she not be drawn to such a man?
She nodded to him and then looked at the ground, studying the mud that clung to the hem of her black dress. Heat rose to her face. A widow of seven months did not share long glances with a handsome man while he was burying two of their friends, especially while the only remaining family member grieved in stunned silence, intentionally isolated from the others.
If Victoria wished to continue calling herself a doctor she would need to toe the line of propriety more than any other woman on the wagon train. She could no longer bask in the shadow of her physician husband.
She cast a glance about them toward the trees that darkened the edges of the creek-fed valley. What other disasters would they encounter in this forest-shrouded, water-poisoned Missouri wilderness?
“Nobody blames you, sweetheart.” It was the warm, sisterly voice of Audy Reich from behind her.
Audy stepped to Victoria’s side and placed an arm around her. The woman was stout muscled from years of hard work and childbearing, but she had a smile that was as warm and genuine as the earth beneath their feet. She smelled of sage and fresh perspiration, and Victoria drew comfort from the woman’s reassuring regard.
“I’ve never been more proud of someone as I have of you these past days,” Audy said. “Tending the sick, bringing them back from the jaws of death itself.”
“Not all.”
“Five of them, my friend, and you prevented more illness.”
“Your husband’s the one who risked his life for others. He helped, exposing himself to the same risk.”
“I do believe you’re the most modest doctor I know.”
Victoria shrugged. “My family warned me I would never be accepted into a medical society. I was always told no woman could be a doctor.”
“There’s no medical society out here on the trail, just grateful patients.” Audy shook her head. “That husband of yours, he must’ve been a special man. I’m glad he taught you so well. The way you and the captain wrenched those others from the cholera was nothing less exciting than the rescue from the flood.”
Victoria glanced toward the graves and mourned.
“Those were not your fault, and you know it,” Audy said. “Luella would have jumped in to save her son even if she’d known it meant death.”
Victoria winced. She’d been thinking all day that if Joseph hadn’t agreed to bring the Johnstons along, there’d have been no illnesses or death. Audy tightened her hold around Victoria’s shoulders. “You two worked wonders as you fought to save lives.” She patted Victoria’s shoulder firmly. “Seems to me you soaked in some of your husband’s teaching instincts.”
Victoria appreciated her friend’s ability to distract. “How’s that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it may have something to do with the way our Captain Rickard hovers over you.” Audy gave an exaggerated wink and a grin. “I’m sure that’s so he can catch your every word about doctoring, don’t you think?”
Victoria’s face heated again. “I believe that’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“I heard he learned a lot about doctoring from your husband, and was called upon to treat many a patient out on the Oregon Trail.”
“He continues to learn, though. As does Heidi.” Time for a change of subject. “The girl’s a natural healer. I’m hoping Kansas will be more open to women practicing medicine, so when she’s grown there’ll be
