Finally he forced himself to sit down and stare through the window at the passing countr yside. Smoke watched a coyote spring up, then run for several yards, easily keeping pace with the train. In the distance he saw antelope grazing and once he saw a big horn sheep, standing on a precipice, looking out over the world.
After three hours on the train, Smoke started seeing countryside that was familiar to him. Recognizing that they were getting close to Big Rock, he got more anxious.
What would he find when he got home?
When the train ground to a stop ten minutes later, Smoke was the first one off. He hurried up to the stock car and was standing impatiently as the railroad liveryman slid open the door.
“Hurry, man, hurry,” Smoke said.
“I have to wait until they bring the ramp.”
“No you don’t. Seven!” Smoke called. He whistled. “Seven, come down boy!”
Seven, who was already saddled, appeared in the doorway.
“Come on down, boy,” Smoke called.
Seven measured the distance, then jumped, landing easily. Before the liveryman could even comment, Smoke mounted and, slapping his legs against the side of his horse, left the depot at a gallop. Though Smoke wanted to gallop all the way, he knew Seven could not sustain a gallop for more than a mile or two. But he could maintain a rapid trot, if given a few walks, for fifteen miles or so. He had only eight miles to go, so he slowed Seven from a gallop, to a brisk trot. It took him less than half an hour to reach Sugarloaf.
As he rode into the front yard he saw Dr. Colton’s surrey parked out front. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He told himself it was a good sign. If the doctor was there, that meant that Sally was still alive.
Smoke urged Seven into a gallop for the last one hundred yards, then leaped from the saddle directly onto the front porch. Leaving Seven breathing hard and sweating, Smoke dashed into the house. He hated to do that to his horse, but the foremost thing on his mind was the condition of his wife.
“Sally!” he called as he stepped into the long, wide hallway that ran from the front door to the rear door, and basically divided the house into two sections.
He saw Dr. Colton stepping out of the bedroom.
“How is she?” The inflection in Smoke’s voice and the expression on his face disclosed his concern.
“She is still alive,” Dr. Colton said.
“Still alive? Good Lord, man, is that all you can tell me? That she is still alive?”
“Smoke, you don’t know how thankful I am to tell you that,” Dr. Colton said.
“But, what happened? I thought she was getting better. I thought everything was fine.”
“She got an infection,” Dr. Colton said. “That’s one of the biggest dangers in wounds like this. If a person isn’t killed instantly, and if they don’t die of shock, then the only danger left facing them is infection. And infection can occur at almost any time. To tell the truth, I thought we were out of the woods with Sally. But a new infection set in last night.”
“What can we do about it?”
“I’ve got a poultice of honey and lard applied over the wound. And I’ve given her a solution of aloe, mixed with some wine. All we can do now is wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Until the fever breaks or ... ,” Dr. Colton let the sentence drag out.
“Or what?”
“Or it doesn’t break.”
“And what happens if the fever doesn’t break?”
“You know what will happen if we can’t beat it, Smoke,” Dr. Colton said. “There’s no sense in dwelling on it. Let’s just think positive, all right?”
“Yeah,” Smoke said. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite all right. It’s only natural for you to be worried.”
“Can I see her now?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Is she awake?”
“She was a moment ago. I expect she is still awake. She knew you were coming back, so she has been anxiously awaiting you.”
When Smoke stepped into the bedroom, he happened to glance through the window and saw Cal leading Seven to the barn. Cal was a good man, and he would see to it that Seven would get a rubdown, food, and water. Smoke’s concern was with Sally.
Crossing over to the bed he stood looking down at his wife. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were closed, but he thought she was every bit as beautiful as she was the first time he ever saw her. In her state of distress, he knew that he loved her more than he would ever be able to express by word or deed.
He had never felt more helpless in his life. She was suffering so and there was nothing, not one thing, he could do for her. Bending over, he kissed her on the forehead, noticing how hot it felt.
Sally opened her eyes. “Is that the best you can do?”
