Rocky Mountain Man

All anyone had to do was to glance around the dim one-room cabin to realize Mr. Hennessey wasn’t a wealthy man. But he was a worthy one. That was something Granny had to understand.

“I will tend him as well as you would do.” Granny pressed a kiss to Betsy’s cheek and secured the shawl pin beneath her chin. “Now, don’t worry, my sweet girl. This is for the best.”

“No, I don’t think—” She peered over her shoulder at the man who was more shadow than substance, lost in the dark corner where the light did not seem to reach. Her heart wrenched hard, bringing with it a suffocating pain. “He needs me.”

“He needs care, and I will give it to him.” Firmly, although there was no mistaking the love warming her stern ways, Granny turned her around and gave her a shove toward the door.

Exhausted and weak—she hadn’t eaten nor drank—her feet seemed to trip forward and she wound up in her brother’s firm grip. No, this was wrong. She needed to stay. She had to. “Please, Joshua. I can rest here and eat. That way I can be close—”

“You will do better in your own bed, and he has all he needs.”

Joshua lifted her into his arms, as if she were a child, and it was tenderness that gentled the fierce frown that made him look nearly as intimidating as Mr. Hennessey at his worst.

“No, please, you have to let me—”

“You are what matters to us. Come, let us take care of you. When you are stronger and rested, we’ll talk about you coming back.”

It sounded reasonable. Even sensible. She was light-headed, she realized, from lack of food. Maybe that’s why she was acting the way she was, as if everything was more intense than usual. Maybe that’s why it felt as if she were breaking from the inside out, as if something vital were being wrenched from her innermost being.

She strained to look over her brother’s shoulder as he carried her through the threshold, turning sideways so her dangling feet wouldn’t smack against the door frame. She saw that Duncan was awake, twisting his head on the pillow, watching her leave. Struggling to keep her in his sight, although he was too weak to do more. His shadowed face was furrowed, his eyes intensely following her progress away from him, and it was almost as if he couldn’t take her leaving.

As if he didn’t want her to go.

Their gazes met and the impact was cataclysmic. As if the moon exploded and the earth cracked into pieces and the sun burned into the greatest darkness. She felt as if her will had helped him through the night. She had made a difference, even a little, and she didn’t want to let him go. Didn’t want to stop hoping.

“Joshua, please, I have to stay.”

But he whisked her onto the porch and the well-built log walls stood between her and Duncan. She tried to push out of her brother’s arms, but it was as if she’d used up all her strength like kerosene in a lamp and it was gone. Tears blistered her eyes and she couldn’t see as he laid her in the back seat of the family’s surrey.

Joshua covered her with a wool blanket and kindly told her to rest, this was for the best, to trust him, but she felt betrayed.

How could her family do this to her?

The surrey jolted as the family horses leaped into a brisk trot, and on the leather-springed seat, she bounced and bumped and watched the cabin grow smaller. Her cheeks were wet and she felt as if she’d been the one clawed apart by a bear. It was wrong to leave him like that. When she’d promised him, she’d promised him, that she’d stay by his side.

Inside where Duncan Hennessey still fought to live. He’d made it to a new day and surprised the doctor, but he was too weak to lift his head from the pillow. Far too wounded to care for himself. Granny was magic—her home remedies legendary, and Betsy trusted her with all of her heart.

But I should be there, too. A vow was a vow, and when she made one, she kept it. Duncan needed her. It had been so long since someone had truly needed her. She knew Granny would go about tending him. Gently cleaning off the poultice Betsy had boiled up in the night, and the doctor had applied over the red swollen gashes of flesh held together by her hurried stitches.

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