"Mr. Quackenbush." She called out formally knowing he wanted to be called Clive. She grinned at him mischievously.
"I do declare Mrs. Temple." He said with a southern drawl that nearly sounded authentic. "Yer as perty as a peach pie in der windersill." Clive's different voices nearly had her in stitches.
"Clive, will you be joining us for supper with the Grants?" She was hoping Andrew would behave around Clive. Everyone was on their best behavior when Clive was around, it seemed to Corinne. He was well-known and respected for his knowledge of the West, his dealings with Indians and his business smarts.
"Yes, I will be sharing supper with ya, but I need to discuss something with you. Let’s walk a minute..." Corinne gladly took his arm and watched concern wash over his face. He gave her a glance and then looked away when he asked his tough question. "Corinne has Mr. Temple... well... has he been unkind to you my dear?" Clive hated asking anything that would embarrass her but he had to know.
"I wouldn't know what you mean, Clive." Corinne's heart hammered in her chest and she searched her mind for a way out of this uncomfortable conversation.
"Well, something Andrew said today bothered me to no end, my dear. I have grown quite fond of you and feel you should know that he is bragging to everyone here about how quickly he will be rid of you once we reach Willamette." Clive looked her in the eyes and was surprised by what he saw.
"Yes, I know, Clive." Corinne suddenly felt tired. Andrew’s mouth had done enough damage today. "He told me as much the day we wed. This is a marriage of convenience only. He gets me across to my father, and he pays back a favor my father did for him. I can't say I'm surprised but I was hoping he would be more civil to me but that isn't the case. What I wasn't expecting is his attempts at belittling me in public. Ah well." Corinne sighed. Today was disappointing and she was dreading the response from the other men on the train. Her reputation wasn’t being protected much at all at this point. For all of Andrew's talk about propriety... She let the thought go.
"I will have a word with the young man. He needs to remember his manners I think." Clive looked away again; he was so irritated with Mr. Temple. A college education meant nothing without decent human courtesy, he thought.
"Please don't, Clive, he will end up punishing me or Angela. He has threatened to send her back if I cause trouble or act unbecomingly. I just could not stand that. As it is we aren't allowed to associate with each other anymore. I think that's why I have grown so quiet. I'm just biding my time until this part of my life is over." Corinne put on a brave face as they walked back toward the river.
The rest of the evening went well with half the train over the river successfully, the air was alive with excitement. The dinner was delicious and the music started soon after the plates were cleared away.
Chelsea and Angela worked extra hard to cheer up Corinne who seemed to have crawled back into her shell since Andrew had ridiculed her in public.
The music got lively and the dancing was energetic. Russell, Lucas and Clive all danced with Corinne and kept her smiling. They were her protectors now. Even though her mood was somewhat hindered deep inside she felt honored knowing how much the Grant family and Clive meant to her.
She sat down with a mug of coffee in her hand. Angela winked down at her while sipping from her own mug. Chelsea plopped down with a smile after having a turn with her husband.
"So Chelsea, I haven't figured out how you know Clive so well. Is he actually in your outfit, or just knows Russell somehow?" Corinne had pieced together bits from hearsay about Clive and his fur-trading business.
"Well actually he is my Grandfather. My maiden name is Quackenbush. He is my father's father." Chelsea said with pride. "He goes from the West coast to Michigan every few years. My Uncle is in the Willamette Valley and runs the trading post for him and Clive spends a lot of time trapping, map-making or helping others across the trail. He is a real firecracker."
Corinne agreed as she watched him sweep another woman around in a reel. "That makes sense then. I was curious." Corinne caught Andrew giving her a look she didn’t comprehend and she wiped the smile off her face. That seemed to appease him and he put his attention back on the group dancing. It was several hours before anyone went to their beds.
Chapter Twelve
April 19 1848
Andrew awakened her with his early morning routine of thumps and clunks again. This was a rest day for the part of the train that had already crossed over. Corinne dressed and joined him at the small fire he had built.
"You are up early again Mr. Temple." She failed at hiding her annoyance.
"Yes, I'm heading out with the scouts. I have grown fond of traveling along with them and hunting beside them. They know a great deal about the landscape and wildlife. I am eager to learn from them." Andrew seemed happy and Corinne's mood improved knowing he was going to be gone. They both waited for the coffee in silence and once Andrew downed a mug full he was gone. Corinne was content with her own company for the next hour before the rest of the world woke up.
The sun came up hot and before noon it felt like a June summer day even though it was still April. Everyone had their chores to do and Corinne crept down to a secluded edge of the river for her own little treat. She found a large rock half in and out of the water up against a tree on the bank. She saw this spot yesterday and knew it would be perfect for her plan.
She had always enjoyed the sun in Kentucky and was nearly as tan as an Indian by summer's end. She cared little for the milky complexion popular in society. She loved the warmth of the sun and had missed it tremendously while living in Boston, the land of parasols, gloves and being locked indoors like a prisoner.
Her favorite feeling was getting sun on her face and feet. It was her guilty pleasure. With glances in both directions she waded barefoot into the water. The river still chilly from the April showers made her shiver. She plopped herself on the rock and leaned against the tree. She grabbed her thin skirts, put them up to her knees, and leaned back. The warm sun was heavenly. Her feet enjoyed the fresh air and her skin delighted in its freedom from the confines of winter. The late night and early morning caught up to her quickly and soon she was asleep. The peaceful water lapping was a pleasant lullaby.
"Hello Corinne." The voice was familiar but her awakening was harsh and the sun’s blinding whiteness was overwhelming as she opened her eyes. She heard splashing and soft male laughter as she scrambled to sit up and see who had interrupted her in her quiet place. With her hand she finally blocked out the light and with her other hand desperately pushed at her skirts to make them a more appropriate covering for her legs.
Lucas Grant smiled at her while also half-heartedly looked away. He had a fishing pole on one shoulder. Once she was settled and could focus she tried to climb down from her perch on the rock.
"Please don't move on my account. I was just heading upstream to see if there are any pockets of fish. I must say you make a lovely picture in the warm sun." His green eyes were smiling and Corinne was speechless. "I am a gentleman but I must admit, when I first came upon you I did notice that the plant lady has some nice stems." He laughed again and was rewarded with a serious blush that looked all the redder by her slight sunburn.
"Mr. Grant, seriously! You should have looked away. I realize my spot isn't nearly as secluded as I had hoped." She wanted to be mad but she could not. "You go on now before Mr. Temple catches us both here. My lack of propriety is a serious infraction today." Corinne was certain that if her husband had happened upon her it would have gone so much worse. She was instantly frowning and attempted to climb down. The water seemed colder with her dark thoughts concerning her husband hanging over her.
"Mrs. Temple, your secret is safe with me. I will never tell. I owe you too much for what you did for Brody, and for the friendship you have with Chelsea." Lucas saw her face drop and wanted to ease her mind. It didn’t work. He walked over to her and grabbed her arm before she escaped.
"Corinne, just so you know. Your husband is a fool." She turned her head and met his glance. Suddenly her world flipped. What in the world does that look mean? They both seemed embarrassed and separated quickly and walked off into their own direction.
Lucas’s eyes had been so intense. 'Your husband is a fool.' He had said. Of course he is. He also is in charge and she had also been foolish to sneak off today. Her arms were pink already and she pondered what hour it was. How long had she been asleep? Her mind reflected why suddenly she felt so strange but thought it was the sun.
* * * * *
She went back to her wagon and saw that it was well past two p.m. She had spent an hour and a half asleep. She knew her skin would be a terrific shade of red by the end of the day. In the wagon she unpacked chamomile and lavender oil and added several drops to a separate bottle of olive oil. Inside the privacy of her wagon she applied it liberally to her face arms and legs below the knee. She was hoping the redness would not be too noticeable otherwise a lecture from Andrew was imminent. She should have worn her bonnet less on horseback and her skin would be more used to the sun. Corinne was putting her bottles away when she heard hoof beats nearby and a voice calling for Mrs. Temple. She got out of her wagon and headed behind the wagon where Clover was tied. His saddle sat on the edge of the wagon.
"Your husband has been shot." One of the scouts had ridden hard to get to Corinne and she stared at him in shock. "I think he'll be ok ma'am. It is just a flesh wound in the arm." He gasped out.
Corinne wanted to smack him. Why didn’t he start with that instead of scaring her so much?
"Where is he?" Corinne finally managed to speak. She had Clover's saddle blanket already placed on his back. She grabbed the saddle as the young man explained himself.
"They are bringing him here. It was just an accident. One of the scout’s weapons misfired. Andrew seems to be handling it ok though. Me, I'd be cussin up a storm." The young man in front of her was starting to test her patience.
"Is he bleeding heavily?"
"Not anymore, one of the scouts got to it right away and wrapped it up tightly. He'll be here in a few minutes. I was sent to tell you that you would want to get the bullet out. You will need to get him into his wagon I'm thinking." The young man's panting was slowing down. Corinne removed the saddle, walked over to Andrews wagon, and saw that no one was nearby. Reggie, Cookie and Angela were off on some task and away from the outfit. Jimmy and Joe were on shift down at the river as extra hands with the animal crossing. Corinne peeked into Andrew’s wagon and realized no one slept in it. It was for storage only. Blast!
Corinne quickly ran over to Chelsea's wagon and requested aid. "My husband has been wounded. He is out of danger but I need a space to remove the bullet and his wagon is a mess. I need some strong arms to help me. My crew seems to have vanished today." Corinne watched Chelsea go into her own serious mode. It's that thing women do when something goes wrong. They get the bleeding stopped, the fever down, the animal calmed and the mess cleaned up. They were only allowed to fall apart afterward.
"I will go fetch Lucas. Then go down river and see if Clive or one of your boys is available. Russell is out with Brody getting firewood otherwise I would find them too." Chelsea took off down to the river and started hollering for Lucas. Corinne headed back to her own wagon and grabbed her bag of bottled oils and her first aid bag. In her case she had some cloth for bandages and she grabbed a worn out petticoat just in case she needed more. Also in the bag were a few doctor tools she had inherited from her mother.
Andrew's wagon was still a mess five minutes later when Lucas arrived and climbed in. "I heard Andrew is hurt. I'm here to help." She explained the situation, with Lucas's help they cleared a decent space, and Corinne jumped out to find Andrew's tent with his bedding. She could not tell whose bedding was who’s in the tent so she grabbed one set and carried the bulky bundle to the wagon. Lucas and Corinne wordlessly put the area together. She gathered several lanterns and had them nearby. It was still early in the day but she knew from experience that a gunshot wound could grow dangerous when removing the bullet. It might be a long night.
Though Corinne wasn’t a doctor she had been witness to several bullet removals by her mother. Her mother was the closest thing to a doctor in their town for several years. The nearest doctor had been a hundred miles away after the local one passed. Corinne learned a lot from watching her. Though Corinne knew her mother loved the medicinal plants and how they healed she thrilled at the deeper side of medicine and thrived at keeping people alive.
Corinne heard horses outside. She jumped out of the wagon and watched her husband riding behind one of the scouts. His horse was behind them following slowly. Andrew looked slightly pale and agitated; someone helped him off the horse and then he started shouting orders for someone to take care of his mount.
"This way, boys, can you put him in the wagon? I've got it prepared." Corinne stated in a matter-of fact way to the men carrying Andrew by the underarms. He protested weekly, tried to walk on his own and failed. He allowed them to aid him in getting to the wagon.
He heard Corinne rattling off instructions and was mildly impressed. Andrew seemed surprised that she took charge but he lost focus when the men at his side manhandled his arm. He walked along with them but seemed a bit wobbly on his feet.
Andrew was lying down comfortably within a few minutes. Corinne thanked the men for taking good care of him and got the explanation of how the incident happened.
"It was a misfire ma'am, I will never know how Charlie Baker's gun went off with no one touching it. Charlie swears it's never misfired before." The older scout was sincere and Corinne sent him off gently assuring him that she knew it wasn't intentional.
Corinne watched them leave and built up her courage.
Chapter Thirteen
April 19 1848
Andrew was enraged. He hid it well in front of the scouts but now he wanted to spit nails. He was laying in the wagon with a throbbing and burning in his arm like nothing he had ever felt before. The moment the bullet entered his arm he didn't feel a thing, but he had an adrenal reaction, a hot flash of sorts flowing through his body. It was a warning and he glanced at his arm in disbelief. There was a growing hot sensation spreading in his arm but not really a pain, just warmth. But when Joe Worthington wrapped it tight with a long strip of clean cloth the pain got intense, blinding hot pain. He went to vet school and knew what was about to happen and he was preparing himself for it. Deep breathes and steel courage. It was not going to be pleasant.
Corinne joined him in the wagon and greeted him with soothing and kind words. She seemed a different person, maybe older he thought. She was in charge and seemed confident. Perhaps this is what the Grants saw. I guess everyone has got their own talent. Maybe she has one after all. He thought to himself.
She laid out her tools and inwardly Andrew was cringing. They would be probing inside his arm shortly. Outside the wagon he heard voices, probably Reggie and the Grants. Within a minute someone was climbing in. The jostling annoyed him further. He tried to move his arm in a protective gesture and fresh pain welcomed him back to reality.
"I'm here to help Andrew. I brought an old friend with me. He helps a lot in these kinds of situations." Clive was a cool head and Andrew was glad to see him. Clive had a mug in hand. He had a bottle of whiskey in the other.
Clive poured and Andrew drank. It had a harsh woodsy taste as it burned its way down Andrew's throat. Half of it spilled down his chin, Clive lifted his shoulders up a little and Andrew drank some more. Clive brought some clean rags with him. Corinne and Clive discussed a few things and Andrew tuned them out. He didn’t want to hear the details. The array of tools next to Corinne was mocking his nerves and he worked hard at ignoring them too. This was not a good day.
The alcohol was making him feel warm. He wasn’t a big drinker and his empty stomach made him an easy target for the alcohol.
"You will need to hold still. I will do my
best to do this as quickly as I can. Clive, can you ask Lucas or Russell to come in. We may need extra hands." Corinne's voice was calm and controlled.
Corinne unwrapped the arm and soon got to the bloodiest part of the wound. The fabric was stuck to the skin. She poured a little water on the fabric that was stuck and used sharp scissors to cut the fabric off around the wound. She gently pulled and after a minute the fabric gave up its grip.
Andrew felt the wagon move again but didn’t care as much. Clive lifted him up one more time and offered another mug of whiskey. Andrew saw the bottle sitting there with a man in a top hat on the bottle and a woman with a rose in her hand. He wanted to laugh for some reason. Do all girls pick flowers? He wondered.
* * * * *
Corinne started washing the wound, the musket ball must have been half inch or bigger to have created a hole this size in his arm. The washing made it start bleeding again. She used a clean rag and dipped it into the basin of fresh water by her side. She squeezed the water over the wound and pressed it firmly with a dry cloth. She gave Clive and Lucas a look that said to be ready.
"Ok, Andrew just try and focus on something else." Corinne washed her hands once more for good measure then took her index finger and began to reach into the bullet wound.
Andrew felt the blur from the whiskey until that moment. His legs and arms started an involuntary squirm. Lucas and Clive were holding him down successfully while Corinne searched for the bullet. The bullet cut a deep hole and before she felt the metal bullet there was blood and torn muscle. She kept blotting as the blood poured out of the wound. Andrew was handling the pain with grunting and heavy breaths.