Marrying the Major. Victoria Bylin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ answered. “Calvin mentioned the Carvers before we left Cheyenne.”

      “That’s the assumption,” he acknowledged.

      Caroline had the haunted look of a soldier reliving a battle. “The robbers ransacked the stagecoach. We heard them making threats, so we hid. We couldn’t run because Bessie twisted her ankle.”

      Tristan couldn’t stand the thought of the Carvers harming either of the women.

      Bessie squeezed her sister’s hand. “The good Lord had an eye on us.”

      Tristan doubted it. In his experience, God ignored the needs of human beings as surely as the duke had ignored his third son. Where was God when Molly lay shaking with fever? Neither did God care about little Dora, who still cried for her mother, or for Freddie, who didn’t cry at all. Tristan had seen too much death to deny the hope of an afterlife, but he didn’t see God in the here and now. He especially didn’t see a loving Father when fever made him delusional and his bones caught fire.

      Bessie indicated the area around the coach. “As you can see, we’ve been camping. Caroline saw to everything.”

      He studied the patch of ground sheltered by the coach. Caroline had done a commendable job of salvaging essentials from the wreckage. She’d built a fire, used a pot to fetch water from a stream and neatly organized food they’d brought from Cheyenne. The campsite was a testament to ingenuity, neatness and order, all traits Tristan admired. Nonetheless, he imagined the women would prefer his house in Wheeler Springs to another night in the open. They’d have to move quickly to arrive by nightfall, especially with packhorses laden with their possessions. He did a quick calculation and decided the women could ride together on Grandma. Jon could manage a packhorse, while the other carried what it could.

      “We should be on our way.” He turned to Bessie. “Miss Bradley, how severely is your ankle injured?”

      “It’s just a sprain.” She looked at Jon. “I can walk up the hill if someone will give me a strong arm.”

      Jon turned on the smile that made him a pussycat. “I’d be delighted—”

      “No,” Tristan interrupted. “I’ll escort Miss Bradley up the hill. You help Miss Caroline break down camp. Make sure you’re careful with the quinine.” Tristan would have preferred to carry it himself, but he felt wobbly.

      Jon focused on the pretty brunette. “I’m at your service, Miss Caroline.”

      “Thank you, Mr. Tate.”

      “Call me Jon.” He shot Tristan a sly glance. “Only the major insists on formalities.”

      The woman smiled. “Jon it is. For the sake of simplicity, Bessie and I go by our first names. You’re welcome to call me Caroline.”

      Jon nodded graciously and Caroline smiled.

      Though pleased by their budding friendship, Tristan felt envious. What would it be like to seek a woman’s attention? To woo her the way he’d wooed Molly? They’d had a stellar courtship, even if he said so himself. He hoped Jon would show the same ambition for Caroline. If Tristan’s plan worked, they’d fall in love and get married. If the malaria bested Tristan, they’d raise Freddie and Dora, and his children would have a family.

      At Caroline’s direction, Jon went to work gathering their meager possessions while she retrieved a bundled nightgown that presumably held the bottles of quinine. Tristan stepped to Bessie’s side and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

      “Thank you, Major.”

      As he helped the injured woman up the hill, he admitted to a sad fact. He didn’t have to slow his pace to match hers. In fact, she’d slowed down for him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jon laughing with the pretty brunette. In other circumstances, he’d have given his friend a run for his money for the woman’s attention … and he’d have won.

      Caroline liked Jon, but Major Smith struck her as a pompous, arrogant, pigheaded fool. If he hadn’t been so rude, she’d have told him about the quinine the instant she recognized him. She didn’t expect her new employer to be overly friendly, but she’d hoped for common courtesy. She didn’t like Major Smith at all.

      Watching as he escorted Bessie up the hill, she saw the slowness of his movements and turned to Jon. “How long has Major Smith had malaria?”

      “Four months.” Jon stopped gathering blankets and looked up the hill. “He won’t tell you anything, but you should know what he’s been through. If you have questions, you should bring them to me. I know him as well as anyone. We served together in the West India Regiment. He’s been to Africa, India, all over the world.”

      “And England,” she added.

      “Yes, but not for a long time.” Jon’s expression hardened. “That one is his story to tell. What you need to know is that he lost his wife a year ago. Molly was a peach. We all loved her.”

      “Was it malaria?”

      “Yes. It struck hard and fast. She died within a week. Tristan wanted to leave the West Indies for the sake of the children, but his transfer request wasn’t approved. He had no choice but to stay until he caught the disease himself.”

      Caroline ached for the entire family. “The children must be terribly frightened.”

      “They are,” Jon replied. “Dora cries at the drop of a hat. It’ll break your heart. Freddie doesn’t show his feelings, but they’re deep. He’s like his father in that way.”

      Caroline glanced at the arrogant man struggling to climb a hill. “How sick is he?”

      He hesitated. “I’ve seen Tristan at his best and at his worst. He’s a fighter. If anyone can beat the malaria, he can.”

      He hadn’t answered her question. “Is today his best or his worst?”

      “It’s typical.”

      Later Caroline would ask Bessie about the course of the disease. “How did he come to be in Wyoming?”

      “It’s as far from swamps and England as he could get.”

      Caroline understood his aversion to swamps. His dislike of England baffled her, but she knew Jon wouldn’t explain. She followed his gaze to the top of the ravine where the major had just crested the ridge. Caroline didn’t know why God hadn’t answered her prayers for a family of her own, but she saw a need here. Major Smith didn’t like her, but his children needed someone who wouldn’t leave them.

      She wondered if he’d made arrangements for a guardian in case he succumbed to malaria. She couldn’t bear the thought of growing to love these children and losing them to a distant aunt or uncle. She turned to ask Jon more questions, but he’d finished gathering their things and had tied them in a blanket. “Do you have the quinine?”

      She indicated the bundled nightgown. “I’ll carry it.”

      With the pack of clothing slung over his shoulder, he offered his elbow. “Shall we join them?”

      “Yes, thank you.”

      Holding СКАЧАТЬ