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Chapter Six

It seemed to Alice, sitting in chapel the next morning, that most of the prayer requests that day had to do with various illnesses and injuries. And something Elijah said in his prayer about using one’s talents in the Lord’s service had her wanting to speak to him afterward.

She waited until nearly everyone else had left, passing the time by chatting with the talkative Ferguson sisters—or rather, Alice murmured “Hmm” and “I see” while they chattered. Then she approached Elijah.

She smiled as she held up her hands. “All right, I surrender, Reverend Thornton,” she said, using his formal title since there were still a few others around. “You’re right. I can see there is a continuing need for someone with medical training here. I’ll do it until the Land Rush.”

Elijah’s smile lit up his serious face and warmed her inside. “Bless you, Miss Alice,” he said, and took her hand between both of his. “You will be rewarded in Heaven, I know.”

His hands felt so warm, as warm as the approval she saw in his eyes. “I’d be perfectly willing to have those who need care to come to my tent,” she went on, “but some of them might not feel up to it or might have trouble finding me. What do you suggest?”

“Why don’t we team up, Miss Alice? I’ve been visiting those I hear about who are ill or needing prayer, mostly in the evenings—unless they need me immediately, of course. Or if no one has made a request, I just walk around and talk to folks who are sitting by their tents or wagons. Why don’t we go together?”

“Like making rounds in the hospital,” she said, remembering the times she’d gone to the wards with the physicians, noting their orders for the patients.

“Exactly. I could pray with them while you treat them.”

Her heart lightened as she smiled up at him. She felt strong and full of purpose. Let’s go together, he’d said. Was it wrong that the words made her think of feelings she’d resolved to abandon in favor of independence?

“Shall we begin tonight, then?” he suggested. “I’ll meet you after supper at your tent.”

“Better yet, why don’t you and your brothers come for an early supper? I’d intended to make stew yesterday, before you so kindly treated me to supper at Mrs. Murphy’s. It’ll just be a simple meal, but you’re all more than welcome. Then we’ll make our rounds.”

* * *

The Thorntons brought more than their appetites when they came to supper. Gideon came leading a black horse whose rump was a blanket of white with black spots—an Appaloosa. When he placed the mare’s lead rope in Alice’s hand, he said, “I think she’ll suit your needs, come the twenty-second, Miss Alice. I’ve tried her, and she’s fast and agile. She can turn on a dime, and she has nice manners. I believe she’d be perfect for you for the Land Rush.”

Alice felt her jaw drop. “Oh, she’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, going to the mare and stroking her neck, and then her soft, velvety muzzle when the horse turned to snuffle her new mistress. “An Indian pony! Where did you get her? How much do I owe you? What’s her name?”

The Thornton brothers laughed at the spate of questions. “I got her from Lars Brinkerhoff, a Danish fellow we’ve met.”

“I’ve met him, too,” she told him. “He and his sister, Katrine, were at the chapel this morning. He didn’t mention the mare, though. He must not have wanted to spoil the surprise.”

Gideon gave her a half smile and went on. “Lars lived with the Cheyenne for a time, and this mare was one of the string of ponies the Indians gave him when he left. He said you could have her for fifty dollars, and that includes a saddle and bridle, but you don’t need to pay him until you decide she’s the right horse for you. And he said her name, but it’s some Cheyenne word, unpronounceable—at least to me—so I reckon you can give her a new name, Miss Alice.”

Still stroking the mare and appreciating the kindness in her eyes, Alice said, “Then I’ll call her Cheyenne. Thank you, Gideon.”

The mare nickered as if she approved.

“You can leave her with our horses until the Land Rush, if you like,” Elijah said. “Shall we ride out to the prairie tomorrow afternoon and try out her paces?”

She nodded, happy at the prospect of an afternoon of riding in Elijah’s company. He was probably just being gentlemanly in offering to accompany her, she told herself, since it wouldn’t be wise to go riding away from the tent city over unfamiliar ground on an untried horse. Keeping that in mind would help her to remember her own resolve, wouldn’t it?

* * *

Their first stop was at the campsite of a man who’d asked for prayer for his daughter, because she had become weak and listless on the journey from Vermont.

After introductions, Alice sat and examined Beth Lambert. She was wan and pallid, just as her father had described. Alice found the mucous membranes around Beth’s eyes and inside her mouth pale also, and her pulse was far too fast for a person at rest. Alice pulled her stethoscope—a gift from her mother when she had finished her training—out of her bag, then listened to the girl’s heart and lungs. The heart rhythm, though rapid, was the regular lub-dub she had hoped for, rather than one with an extra beat that made the rhythm sound more like Ken-tuck-y or Ten-nes-see, as it would be with a heart murmur. The lungs were clear, free of the wet sounds or crackles that might signal consumption.

Nevertheless, she asked Beth if she’d been having night sweats or coughing. The girl shook her head.

“Chest pains?”

Again Beth shook her head.

“What have you been eating, Beth?” Alice asked.

The girl wrinkled her nose. “Pretty much corn bread and biscuits, washed down with coffee, ever since we left the East. Don’t have nothin’ else.”

“I see.” Alice turned to the girl’s parents, who were hovering anxiously nearby. Now that she’d spoken to their daughter, she saw the same pallor in her mother and father.

“I think your daughter is anemic—that is, her blood isn’t carrying oxygen around as it should. She needs to eat more red meat, especially liver and eggs. In fact, I think those things would benefit all of you. Would you be able to get more of those in your diet?”

* * *

Thank You, Lord, for sending Alice to us, Elijah prayed. She was as tactful as she was skilled. She saw what needed to be done or said, and did and said it.

“Waal, I dunno,” the father mumbled, scuffing a small rock out of the dirt and pushing it with his toe. “Beef’s mighty costly.”

“We left the East with not much more than the clothes on our backs,” the mother said, and when the man next to her tried to shush her, she raised her voice more. “Jed, it’s true, and our Beth is sick because of it.” She turned back to Alice and Elijah. “By the time we bought the wagon and team, we didn’t have much left for food on the trip, so we had to think cheap. We all et better back home.”

The Preacher's Bride Claim

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