Dangerous Heart Page 4

  Toni patted Ginger’s shoulder. “I’ll warm up some left over beans and a wedge of cornbread for when you get back.”

  Ginger rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother. I doubt I’ll be able to eat anything.”

  “Well, I’ll warm it up just the same. Maybe Blake won’t be too hard on you.”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  Grant watched her go, her feet shuffling along the rocky ground as she made her way to the wagon master’s fire.

  “Well,” Toni said, “I know what I’m going to be doing for the next hour or so.”

  Grant turned to her. “What’s that?”

  A smile tipped her lips. “Praying for mercy.”

  “She’s going to need it.”

  “Grant!” The sound of Sam Two Feathers’s voice interrupted their conversation.

  Toni’s face brightened at the sight of her fiancé. “Good evening, Sam,” she said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Sam shook his head. “Nothing would give me more pleasure, but for now I must speak with Grant.”

  Toni’s eyes showed only the briefest disappointment. She gave a nod. “All right. I’ll see you later, then.”

  “I will stop by to say good night if your campfire is still burning when my duties are completed.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Sam inclined his head away from Toni’s camp, and Grant followed in the direction he indicated.

  “Think Blake will force Ginger out at Fort Boise?”

  The half-Sioux scout gave a shrug. “I have stopped trying to predict Blake’s actions.” He frowned. “But Ginger disobeys often. She must, at least, be punished, or the men of the wagon train will lose their desire to follow Blake the rest of the way to Oregon. They will not respect him.”

  That was an understatement if Grant had ever heard one. Ginger didn’t understand the meaning of the word obedience. Well, she did, as long as that submission suited her immediate purposes. She certainly chose her moments to do as she was told.

  “What is it you wanted to talk to me about, Sam?”

  “Come with me,” Sam said. “Blake is waiting for us in the supply tent.”

  “He is? Ginger just went to find him. She’s hoping to worm her way out of trouble.”

  “Whether this is possible or not is up to Blake, but regardless, she will not find him for now. We will.”

  Grant knew better than to question the scout. If Two Feathers wanted to reveal the reason for this meeting, he would. Otherwise, Grant had no choice but to quell his curiosity and follow.

  Three

  Ginger’s footsteps slowed with the dread of anticipation as she approached the wagon master’s campsite. Fannie stood over a tub of dishwater, quietly singing to herself. Ginger’s breathing increased as she gave a tentative glance about, preparing to face whatever fate Blake had in store for her.

  Fannie flashed a broad smile as she glanced up and spotted her standing there. “Hi, Ginger.” She pushed aside an errant curl from her forehead, then plunged her arms, up to her elbows, back into the sudsy water.

  “Evenin’, Fannie. Blake around?”

  Fannie shook her red, curly head and blew upward at the curl that just wouldn’t stay put. “He went to meet Sam.”

  “Oh, well, I suppose I’ll have to wait, then.”

  Fannie nodded and grinned, the freckles on her scrunched up nose making her look much too young to be the wife of the most important man in the wagon train. “Camp business came up. He seemed as relieved to put off talking to you as you do.”

  In that smile, Ginger felt she had an ally. Her tension began to ease up.

  On the other hand, if Fannie knew she needed an ally to begin with, then Ginger must really be in trouble.

  Fannie grabbed a towel and dried her hands. “Want to wait? He shouldn’t be long.”

  “I don’t know…” Ginger’s stomach let out a loud grumble reminding her that she hadn’t eaten a morsel since supper the night before. She eyed the half-eaten rabbit still hanging over the fire. The sizzling meat looked a lot more appealing than the thought of beans and cornbread back at her own fire. Fannie’s gaze followed hers. She gave a nod. “You want some? We’ve had our fill. I was planning to give the leftovers to Wolfie, but he can get his own, if you’re hungry.”

  As much as she sympathized with the dog, the aroma of roasted rabbit played havoc with Ginger’s empty stomach. She gave Fannie a grateful little nod. “I’d be obliged.”

  Fannie tossed the towel across the edge of the tub and headed toward the fire with a tin plate. “Have a seat, then. I’ll dish it up.”

  Ginger took her place on the pickle barrel Fannie had indicated. In spite of herself, she heaved a great sigh.

  Fannie handed her the plate. “Rough day?”

  “It wasn’t too bad.”

  “Miss Sadie says you did a right fine job of helping with Yellow Bird.”

  Ginger’s eyebrows shot up. “She did?”

  “Yep. She said not only did you help with the birth, but you stayed by Yellow Bird’s side all day so that Miss Sadie could rest. She seemed awfully grateful.”

  Ginger accepted the praise but shook her head. “That woman,” she said. “She fussed at me every time I turned around.”

  Fannie laughed, returning to her work cleaning up around the campsite and washing dishes. “You know Miss Sadie isn’t one to throw a compliment around. Especially not to the person she feels did a good job.”

  Ginger bit into her rabbit. She appreciated Fannie’s friendship. Like Toni, the woman had welcomed her into the wagon train and accepted her without too much suspicion.

  To be honest, she would like nothing more than to be able to confide in her about Web and the rest of the gang, but as the wagon master’s wife, Fannie would be duty bound to let Blake know there were still outlaws in the area and that Ginger was raised by the ring leader. Even Toni would be forced to share her deception with Two Feathers. That’s what people who were about to be married did—no secrets. So Ginger resigned herself to keeping her life before the wagon train, as well as her reunion with Web and his band of outlaws, firmly in her own memory. As much as she wanted to stay, she knew these people would never believe that she had nothing to do with the attack.

  “I went by to see Yellow Bird earlier,” Fannie said. “The baby is beautiful, isn’t he?” Fannie’s voice held a wistful tone that piqued Ginger’s curiosity. Especially since, as far as she was concerned, the creature in Yellow Bird’s arms was about the scrawniest mess of a human being she’d ever seen. “I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound convinced,” Fannie said, her lips curved into an amused smile.

  Managing a shrug, Ginger swallowed down a bite of the wonderful meat. “Miss Sadie says all babies are odd looking when they first come. He’ll get better, I guess.”

  Fannie chuckled. “Well anyway, I look forward to getting back on the trail tomorrow. Don’t you? Just think—in a couple of months, we’ll be in Oregon.”

  Ginger didn’t really know how to respond. It was awfully hard to drum up any enthusiasm for Oregon when she most likely wouldn’t be with the wagon train by the time they reached the so-called promised land.

  “Okay, listen, Ginger.” Fannie planted her hands on her hips and looked straight into Ginger’s eyes. “I know you probably figure it’s no use tryin’ and that Blake is going to make you leave this time. And I’ll be honest, he’s mulling the idea around in that stubborn brain of his. But you still have a chance, if I know anything about what’s in that man’s head.”

  Swallowing, Ginger eyed the woman, almost afraid of the hope lifting her spirits. “You think I have a chance of staying?”

  “I do. If you play your cards right. I don’t mean to be vulgar, but neither of us was raised in a lady’s parlor, were we? We understand the notion of playing the hand you’re dealt but playing it smart.”

  Ginger might have laughed at the notion of being raised in a lady’s parlor, if she weren’t a bit
offended. Not about the reference to gambling, of course—she’d won her fair share of money in one card game or another during her life. Lost her fair share too, truth be told. But why would Fannie assume she hadn’t been raised by a lady? She’d never told one blessed person about her upbringing. Not even Toni and Fannie. “I guess I see your point.”

  “The key to managing Blake is to admit you’re wrong and apologize before he starts yelling.”

  Ginger stiffened and jerked her chin. “What if I’m not wrong?”

  “Depends on how important being right is to you.”

  It was just about everything to Ginger. “I’m not apologizing.”

  “Don’t let your stubbornness get the better of you, Ginger. Blake’s used to getting his way around this wagon train. And he’s usually right.” Fannie released a laugh that came straight from her belly. “Believe me, it took me a long time to admit it. I don’t expect you to feel the same way about him, of course. As a matter of fact, you’d have a fight on your hands if I thought you’d taken a shine to my husband.”

  “Hey, now. I don’t…”

  “I was teasing about that, Ginger. I forgot how you take everything so literally.”

  Relief shoved her indignation back down.

  Fannie obviously wasn’t finished with her lecture. “The fact is, you might try to give in just a little in order to keep your place on the wagon train. I’d miss you something fierce if you had to go.”

  “You would?”

  “Well, of course. And so would Toni and Miss Sadie.” She sent her a conspiratorial grin. “And Grant Kelley.”

  Close to a growl, Ginger sent her a fierce scowl as she swallowed down the last of the rabbit meat from the bone. “Don’t even mention his name to me.”

  “Why not? Surely you can’t deny he’s a right handsome man. Even a blind billy goat could see that.”

  “Can we please talk about something else?”

  “Okay. Let’s talk about how you’re going to be so pleasant and apologetic that Blake feels downright hateful at the very thought of tossing you out on your behind. Oh, and you must promise never to disobey his orders again.”

  Ginger scowled. “Why can’t they just leave me be to do what I want?”

  All amusement fled Fannie’s expression. “You already know the answer to that.” She poured them each a cup of coffee from the tin pot on the fire grate. Walking back to Ginger, she handed her one of them and settled herself on the tongue of her wagon, facing Ginger. “The wagon train’s success depends on everyone’s cooperation. Surely you’ve seen that by now.”

  Ginger’s face warmed under Fannie’s scrutiny. She gathered her dignity and jerked her chin. “I do my part. Whatever chores I’m assigned. I just don’t see why I can’t ride off on my own if I want. Don’t I always come back safe? And usually bagging meat enough for at least two or three families.”

  “That’s very true. But you know as well as I do that a lone woman is a target for any number of threats. Animals, Indians. Or what about the attack this morning? Those men could still be in the area, just waiting to pick off the first fool who wanders away from the train.”

  Ginger had suddenly lost her appetite. Her defenses rose. “Only someone that can’t take care of themselves is a fool.”

  Fannie shrugged, her eyes sparkling, obviously ready for the conflict. “The Bible says someone who doesn’t believe in God is a fool.”

  The words hit Ginger like a jolt. Now why would Fannie go and say a thing like that, right in the middle of a completely different conversation? “You saying I don’t believe in God? Because I do. When Yellow Bird’s babe wouldn’t come out, we prayed and God answered.”

  “So you’re saying if Yellow Bird and the baby had died, you would still believe there is a God?”

  Well, when she put it that way it was hard to know how to answer. “I don’t know. Maybe. But the fact is, He did like I asked.”

  Fannie gave her an indulgent smile and took the plate Ginger held out. “Glad to hear it. But you still shouldn’t have ridden off alone. It’s not about whether you can take care of yourself or not. Nor is it even about whether or not God will keep you safe. It’s about the fact that Blake gave orders, and you disobeyed. It disrupted things around here. To tell you the truth, after the attack this morning and Yellow Bird’s baby having trouble getting born, well…Blake didn’t need one more thing to have to worry about.”

  Her somber words bit into Ginger, leaving her with remorse working its way from her stomach to her heart. “I guess when you put it that way…”

  Fannie’s lips curved into a smile. “Blake has told me more than once that you’re a good tracker and have the potential to be one of the most valuable members of this entire train.”

  “Yeah?” Ginger’s grin spread across her face in spite of herself.

  Fannie leveled a frank gaze at her. “Yes, but he also says you’re undisciplined and incapable of taking orders, and that’s why he can’t count on you. You’re too unpredictable.”

  Ginger’s smile faltered. “Oh.” She stood. “I best go. Thank you for the supper. If Blake gets back, tell him I’m at my tent.”

  “All right. Try not to worry too much. You’ll know Blake’s decision soon enough.”

  Ginger tried to heed her friend’s words, but it couldn’t stop the tightening of her stomach. And she knew if she had to go, it was her own fault.

  When they entered the supply tent, Blake nodded at Sam. “Good, you found Grant,” Blake said, his tone grim.

  Unease swept through Grant. “Something wrong, Blake?”

  The wagon master motioned them to the back of the tent. They walked around crates and barrels. “Our scouts found this man, unconscious, in the woods.”

  A bedroll was stretched out against the back of the tent and on it laid a young man, probably no more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. His eyes were closed, and he shook with what Grant assumed was fever.

  “Where was he found?”

  Blake shook his head. “In the direction of the attack this morning. And it doesn’t seem like he’s been there all that long. His arm is broken. That’s why we asked for you, Grant. Can you bandage him up? Looks like he fell off his horse and hit his head.”

  “I’ll need some water and bandages for his head. And a couple of boards to make into a splint for his arm.” He stopped and leveled a gaze at Blake. “He’s also running a fever. We may be dealing with infection somewhere. I’ll need to examine him thoroughly.”

  Blake nodded. “I’ll ask Fannie to boil some water.”

  “I’ll go,” Sam spoke up.

  Grant barely glanced his way. “Bring back a couple of boards so I can splint that arm, would you?”

  Sam left to bring back the necessary items while Grant went to work.

  After a brief examination, Grant was pretty sure Blake’s suspicion was correct. The young man had fallen and hit his head. “Probably a rock,” he said to Blake. “He’s lucky he didn’t knock his brains out. But the fever is what concerns me most. I don’t find an infected wound. I can only assume he’s ill.”

  A series of groans leaked from the unconscious stranger, as though he were trying to pull himself from the mire of his state and open his eyes.

  Grant gripped his shoulder and held him steady on the pallet. “Take it easy. You’re hurt.”

  Another groan and the man passed out again.

  “He woke up once,” Grant said. “Most likely he’ll wake up again.” At least he hoped so. Now that he was alone with the wagon master, his curiosity got the better of him. “I, uh, spoke with Ginger. She went looking for you.”

  “Stubborn female. I’ll have a talk with her in the morning.” He moved a horse blanket from a nearby crate and sat. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs and heaved a sigh. “I just wish she hadn’t forced this decision on me.”

  “You thinking of asking her to leave?”

  “I’m not asking.” The muscle in Blake’s jaw twitched a
s he clenched his teeth.

  Grant knew the girl deserved discipline, still, they could use every available gun. Besides, she had become a valuable part of the wagon train. Surely Blake could see that. Grant knew it wasn’t his place to question the wagon master, but he couldn’t seem to stuff the words back down his throat fast enough to keep them from flying out. “I guess you’ve thought it through?”

  Blake straightened up and looked at Grant, eyes narrowed. “Is there some reason you think I shouldn’t enforce our rules for this girl? She’s been nothing but trouble, and you can’t deny that. If I have my way, we’ll drop her off at the first fort we come to. Of course, one more delay and we’ll likely be forced to hole up at Fort Boise for the winter anyway.”

  Alert to the wagon master’s concern, Grant shoved aside the thought of Ginger leaving the train and concentrated on the newly spoken situation. “The snows are already piling up in the mountains, aren’t they?”

  Blake scowled. “I don’t know about snows piling up yet, but they most likely will be by the time we get there. We’re more than a month behind. All the delays between women getting kidnapped, the twister, Indians, and now outlaws. This has been the worst trip west I’ve ever made. I’m glad it’s my last.”

  “Is Fort Boise equipped to take on a wagon train the size of this one?”

  “We’d have to build outside the fort and fortify the walls and roofs with wagon canvases.”

  “You mean build houses for folks?” Grant had trouble believing in the possibility.

  Blake shook his head. “We’ll have to build barracks, of sorts. Two for the women and girls, two for the men and boys.”

  “Splitting up families might not be good.”

  “We may not have a choice. Tepees would be more practical and would keep families together, but I know what kind of reaction I’d get if I suggested that sort of thing.”

  The man in the corner groaned, drawing their attention. Grant studied his young face.

  “Can you hear me?” he asked.

  The stranger moaned in reply but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Who are you?”