The Parson's Christmas Gift

Journey shifted, biting her lip against the pain.

“That leg’ll take a while longer. Doc left something to help ease the hurt.”

She slid her leg under the quilt, feeling the stiff binding around it. “How much longer?”

Abby’s lips quirked to one side. “At least a month, maybe more, Doc said.”

She could be snowed in by that time, if the chill in the night air held. Where would she stay? She wouldn’t be able to afford a room longer than a week, and that’s if she didn’t eat. She knew enough to realize Reverend Thompson couldn’t extend his hospitality to her that long. And the doctor! How was she to pay him?

She had to leave before that. She’d give herself the day and let Gypsy rest. Then she’d be ready to move on. If she went slowly, they’d make out fine. She could just take it easy, not push the horse too much and keep her leg bound.

“I’ll need to settle up with the doctor before I leave.”

Abby patted her arm. “Don’t you worry. Once you get settled in at Miss Rose’s, you can work it out with her. I’m sure she’ll help you. You can pay her back when you’re on your feet again. Let me get that pain medicine. You’re about due.”

Abby moved to the table behind her. It seemed this room served as kitchen, sitting room and sleeping area for the pastor. It must be his bed she lay on. Her leg throbbed in time with her head. She had to get out of here.

“Here you go.” Abby nudged a spoonful of liquid to her. “This’ll help you rest, too. You’ve had quite a night. I should’ve told you to stick closer to town.”

She swallowed the liquid, but Abby’s words burned her with embarrassment. What would she think if she knew there had been no plan to stay? Not that it mattered now. Did it? Was there any way to explain how grateful she was for the kindness they’d shown and make them understand that she couldn’t allow it anymore? It didn’t seem likely, not without telling too much.

“I’m not one to be hemmed in,” she said. She fisted the blankets around her and slid down into the pillow.

“Believe me, I can understand that,” Abby said. Her eyebrows lifted, and Journey braced herself for more questions. “I didn’t expect you to ride so far out of town. We were looking for you to come back any time when Zane came pounding on the door. He’d found Doc Ferris at the Wilsons’ and sent him out here, then came for Sam to help with your horse. I had Sam hook up the wagon and bring me along to see what I could do. I thought you might feel better if you came to with a familiar face around, instead of a complete stranger here.”

Journey fought the gathering tears. She nodded and her throat felt tight. “You’re right. Thank you.” She didn’t know this woman well, but it was better than waking up with an unknown doctor prodding around. “Where are they?”

“Doc Ferris figured you’d rest quietly awhile, and he needed to get back to the Wilsons’ to check on their new baby before he headed back to town,” Abby said. “Zane and Sam should be back any minute now, soon as they get your horse checked over.”

Journey felt the bandage over her temple as she brushed a curl from her forehead. She smoothed the blanket at her waist with the other hand even though Abby had already done that. Her leg felt better since taking the medicine, and her head slowed its throbbing. She yawned.

“Did Reverend Thompson—Zane—say how she was?”

“Your horse?”

“Yes.” She yawned again. “Gypsy.”

Abby turned away, as if she suddenly remembered the spoon and bottle she still held. They clinked together on the table. “Zane didn’t say. He was more anxious about Doc Ferris getting out here to see you. He said you were in and out, calling him ‘Hank’ or something like that.”

Journey kept her eyes down, staring at her hands on the quilt. A chill fell over her. She no longer felt drowsy. What else might she have said?

But Abby chattered on, unaware that she’d struck a nerve. “If anyone can patch up your horse, it’s Zane. He worked with his father raising horses before Mr. Thompson passed away. What he didn’t know about horses wouldn’t fill a thimble, and he taught Zane everything.”

She slid back down on the bed, pulling the covers all the way over her shoulders, and Abby put another log on the fire. “Keep warm. Doc was worried you’d fall into shock, being out in the cold air like you were. But you look better already than you did when I first arrived. Your color’s back.”

Boots on the porch boards outside the front door roused her. She and Abby turned as the door swung open, revealing Zane and Sam. Journey caught the shake of Sam’s head when he looked at his wife. The sharp whinny of the horse echoed in her memory. How bad could it be?

Zane looked haggard. The bruise around his eye from his fall at Miss Rose’s was dark and swollen. He rubbed a hand over the shadow beard on his chin, and she felt sorry for the trouble she’d caused him. He shrugged her saddlebag from his shoulder and hung it on a peg near the door, then hooked the gun he carried above it. He turned and stared at her.

She grew uneasy, self-conscious, thankful the doctor hadn’t needed to disrobe her to splint the leg. She felt bare toes scrape the blanket only on that foot, the other stocking still in place. Why didn’t he say something?

He swiped a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, then placed his hand on his hip.

“How bad is she? I have to know.”

Zane cleared his throat again and looked over to Sam and Abby. Then his gray eyes turned in her direction and he drew in a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am—Journey,” he said. “I had to put her down.”

The coldness swept through her again, and this time her injuries weren’t to blame. She covered her face with her palms.

Slender fingers squeezed her shoulder. Journey looked up to see Abby’s teary face. She’d cry herself if she thought it would do any good. She’d come all this way. She couldn’t let herself get caught now. But without Gypsy…

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abby said. “We’ll help you. Miss Rose has plenty of space and a good little riding horse she’ll let you use, I know it. We’ll work things out with her.”

“I have nothing to bargain with. I can’t stay here. I’m sorry, I should have said before, but I couldn’t possibly—”

“Sure you can,” Sam said. “I’m sorry about your horse. Believe me, I know what it’s like to lose a good mount like that. It feels like you lost your best friend. But the Lord works in mysterious ways, right, Zane?”

Zane nodded. “Don’t worry about anything, Journey. It’ll work out.” His voice rasped as he stood in the flickering light.

You don’t know! How could you take my horse? She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to shove him out the door and demand he bring Gypsy back.

“I’ll stay with you tonight, and we’ll let you get some rest,” Abby said. “Zane and Sam can stay out in the barn. Then in the morning they can ride over and talk to Miss Rose, let her know what’s happened. After church we’ll ride you over in our wagon.”

“But how can I work for her now?”

“It’s the company she needs most,” Abby said.

“And we’ll be around to give her a hand,” Zane added. “I guarantee she’ll not consider you a bother.”

Her options had been shot out from under her. It was all decided. She’d stay in Walten until her leg healed. Until she could afford another horse. Until she paid all the debts this one night had cost her. She sighed. Or until the law caught up with her.

Chapter Six

Zane dragged his feet across the rug at the door. Journey lay across his bed on top of the quilt Sarah had made. He’d had it in his buckboard the night of the fire, and it was the only tangible thing he had left of her.

“Zane? What’s wrong?”

Abby’s voice drew him from the memories that never were very far away. “Nothing. I was just…nothing.” He nodded toward the patient. “She ready?”

Abby nodded. “She’s tuckered out. I helped her wash her hair, so between that and the laudanum Doc Ferris left her, she sleeps hard.” She looked from him to the tiny form on the bed. “I get the feeling she hasn’t had a good rest for a long time.”

Zane remembered her wild-eyed fear the night before when he’d found her in the woods. Something about her tugged at him, and he didn’t know himself yet what it was. “Well, maybe that’s why the Lord led her here. He definitely wanted her to stick around awhile. What did Doc say?”

“Six weeks. By then the snow will be through the pass and she’ll be here until spring.”

“Did she say where she was headed yesterday?”