Keeping Faith. Hannah Alexander
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 a place for her.”
Audy shook her head, the smile lines gone from her eyes. “I’ve already told her she has a place in our family, though she’s not listening. Right now she can’t even hear it.”
Victoria linked arms with her steadfast friend and took a few steps with her from the burial site. “Thank you for hunting the herbs and roots we needed. You kept Heidi distracted from the worst of it.”
Audy’s hazel eyes welled with sorrow. She puffed loose strands of graying brown hair from her face. “My six boys did the distracting. When Heidi wasn’t helping William herd those wild younger brothers of his, that sweet gal was on my heels looking for those plants even if she had to tromp through the weeds and risk stepping on copperheads and poison ivy.”
“She’s brave.” Victoria cast a glance around for her young assistant and caught a flash of long, pale hair in the clearing before Audy leaned close to her ear.
“Mind you, William hasn’t been able to keep his attention on his chores since the Ladues joined our train. After all, it’s definitely springtime.” She paused. “Love seems to hover in the air no matter the circumstances. I think you might be aware of a little of that yourself.”
Victoria refused to glance toward Joseph.
Audy gave Victoria another squeeze of the arm and let her go. “Now, honey, don’t you act all innocent with me. Even my crusty ol’ husband can see a good match when it’s right there under his nose.”
“Are you hinting that the captain and I—”
“Hinting? Not me. I’m saying it straight. You and our good captain seem to be more than friends. Don’t you think it’s only natural? You’re a young woman alone. Luella mentioned a time or two that you and the captain were alike in so many ways.”
Victoria took a deep breath. Physicians weren’t supposed to weep over the deaths of their patients. “Luella knew that...that Joseph and I are old friends.” This physician likely had swollen eyes and a red nose from all her tears.
“That would make sense, knowing he and your Matthew were friends.” Audy’s voice was gentle as she said, “Luella would be touched that you grieved her so, but we knew her deep faith. She and her boy are past suffering.”
Victoria hesitated, choosing her words. “There are many things I don’t know anymore.”
“That happens as we grow older and wiser. It don’t hurt to question the Lord every so often, because He already knows what’s in your heart.”
“But Heidi’s alone. How could God—”
“He’ll see to her. She’ll be loved to pieces amongst our brood. Who wouldn’t adore such a thoughtful child?”
Victoria nodded as her attention wandered back to Joseph—her