Valerie Hansen - High Plains Bride

He was about to turn and take Emmeline back to the Carter wagon when she tightened her hold on his rib cage with one arm, pointed with the other and screeched, “Stop!” frightening the horse enough to cause it to jump and prance sideways, almost unseating them both.

Will jerked back on the reins and managed to quiet the fractious horse and regain control before he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Over there!” she shouted. “See that blue fabric? It looks like Bess’s dress!”

In Emmeline’s opinion, reaching the prostrate form of her poor sister was taking an eternity. She kept kicking the horse in the flanks while Will held it in check with a tight rein.

“Faster!” she insisted. “Either hurry up or let me off right here.”

“If we gallop and the little ones are lying in the grass where we can’t see them, it’ll just make matters worse. Settle down. We’re almost there.”

She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to bide her time. Patience had never been one of her virtues and being embroiled in this tragedy had not helped one iota.

If anything, it had made her more anxious. That was not something she considered a fault or a sin. On the contrary, she thought she was doing well to keep from screaming at the poor man whom she knew was merely trying to help.

“Bess!” Emmeline called. “Bess, I’m here. I’m coming.”

The figure lying prostrate on a patch of rocky ground did not stir.

As Will reined in beside it, Emmeline pushed herself back, slid over the horse’s rear and dropped to the ground. She was already kneeling at her sister’s side and shaking the girl’s shoulders when Will joined her.

“Is she alive?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s breathing, thank the Lord. I don’t know why she doesn’t wake up.”

“Don’t be too rough with her,” he warned. “She might have broken bones.”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” Emmeline keened as tears slipped down her cheeks and fell to bathe her sister’s face.

“You didn’t make the bad weather and you weren’t responsible for your father’s decision to press on,” he countered.

Then it must be God’s fault for not looking after us, she thought so quickly, so instinctively that she was unable to censor it. Instead of voicing that disturbing conclusion, she said, “Bess doesn’t deserve this. She’s never hurt a fly.”

Will had been studying the area around them. He bent and hefted a portion of a large tree limb that lay a few yards away. “I think this is what may have hit your sister in the head and knocked her out. Check in her hair and see if there’s a lump.”

Following his instructions, Emmeline found one small wound at Bess’s temple and a welt on the back of her head. “Yes. There’s a goose egg and…” She cradled the girl’s head and shoulders and was about to continue searching for further injuries, when the younger girl stirred.

“Bess? Dear? It’s Emmeline. You’re safe now.”

Her sister’s eyelashes fluttered. Grinning while shedding tears of relief and thankfulness, Emmeline looked to Will. “I think—”

“Yes. She’s coming around.” He crouched next to them.

When Bess’s eyes opened and focused on Emmeline, she opened her mouth as if to speak. Her eyes widened in apparent terror. Emmeline had thought the girl was going to scream, but no sound came forth. Nor were there tears.

Continuing to cradle her and taking her hand, Emmeline patted it gently, reassuringly. “It’s all right, Bess. I’m here. You’re going to be fine.”

The fifteen-year-old seemed to relax some, but made no reply.

“I have a friend here with a horse. We’ll take you back to the wagon just as soon as we locate Missy and Mikey,” Emmeline explained. “Where are they? Did you all find a place to hunker down?”

Receiving not the slightest nod, let alone a lucid answer, she was beginning to grow terribly concerned. She glanced at Will. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with her. Could a bump on the head cause her to lose her voice?”

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