“Well,” Sierra said, “I’m not as old as you, but I think there might be something to it. And most of the things that come back to me, I can’t imagine why I would even remember them.”
“I remember the day the Comanches killed my family, more details than I would like to recollect. I was ten then, but most of life before that is a blur of generalities. And, like you, the specific events I recall make no sense. I feel badly sometimes that I don’t remember my parents better, more than fragments. Jack and Rudy are my family. Jack is my father in all but name and blood.”
When they returned to the bedrolls, Jack and Thor were still sleeping soundly. Sierra touched her fingertips to Jack’s head and sighed. “He’s still burning up, but I didn’t expect otherwise. I’ll keep the canteen near and see if I can get him to drink when he wakes up.”
She turned to Jordy, and he could see the tears glistening in those hazel eyes, greenish tonight in the moonglow. “Jordy, I will feel we failed him somehow if we don’t get him to Tess.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Sierra had barely dropped off to sleep when she heard Jack’s moans. She tossed the blankets off and crawled out of her bedroll, grabbing the canteen and moving to his side. Thor whined as he nosed his friend’s cheek. Jack was delirious, babbling non-sensical words. She heard Jordy’s name and her own, but Tess’s name came up most. Once, he said, “Hell no, Rudy.”
She placed her hand behind his head and raised him up, lifting the canteen to his lips. She was encouraged that he took several healthy swallows of water. She wet one of her cloths and pressed it against his forehead as she lowered him and then bathed his face with cool water. “Grandpa, do you know who I am?” Sierra asked.
“Of course. You are my granddaughter, Sierra Wills.” His voice cracked and was not much above a loud whisper.
“Yes, I am. And I love you, Grandpa. More than you can know.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Suddenly, he was lucid again, giving her renewed hope.
“Tell Rudy to get his fat ass over here, would you?”
“Uh, Grandpa, Rudy isn’t here.”
“Where the hell is he?”
“He stayed back with the horses and wranglers. Don’t you remember?”
“What horses?”
It seemed pointless to explain, and he relieved her of further awkward dialogue by dropping off to sleep again.
When she turned away, she saw that Jordy’s bedroll had been removed. She cast her eyes about their shadowy campsite and saw him with the horses. He seemed to be saddling the mounts to move out. She got up and joined him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What does it look like?”
She thought he seemed a bit brusque. “Okay. It was a dumb question.”
“Sorry. I had no excuse to be sarcastic. I couldn’t sleep, and I got to calculating how far we have probably come and how much time we’ve saved by cutting off the main trail. If we head out now and push the horses some and switch mounts frequently, I think we could be at Tess’s before dark tomorrow or not long after.”
Sierra said, “We’ve got to try.”
Jordy and Sierra had made a frantic race across the West Texas plains, winding through hills early on and finally reaching a straight run on the flat for some miles before connecting again with the wagon trail several miles south of San Angelo where the Middle and South Concho rivers converged before joining the North Concho at the town. It was only midafternoon, so they had beat Jordy’s time estimate by some hours.
She reined in her mare, and Jordy followed suit. They both dismounted and went promptly to the cart. Thor looked up with sad eyes as if expecting her to do something. She stroked the dog’s head and neck while she leaned over the cart and examined Jack. His breathing appeared labored, but he slept soundly, and under the circumstances Sierra considered that a blessing. Since leaving their stopover last night, they had stopped every few hours to rest the horses and to check on Jack and to try to get him to drink, mostly without much success.
She straightened up and looked at Jordy, not liking the whipped look on his face. “Do you think I should try to wake him to drink?”
“We’re not more than an hour from Tess’s. It has been a wasted effort the last two stops. His britches dry?”
“I checked. Yes.”
“Then he hasn’t passed water for almost a day. That can’t be good.”
Sierra said, “He was determined to see Tess. Let’s move and hope she owns a magic wand.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Tess Wyman was standing on the front porch of her house when the party rode up to the hitching rail. She gave a quick wave, stepped off the porch and hurried to the cart before Sierra and Jack even dismounted. When the two joined her, Tess already had Jack’s head cradled in one hand and was tracing the fingers of the other over his forehead.
She turned to Sierra. “Hello, Sierra. I am Tess. I have been waiting for you. I sensed an hour ago that Jack was on his way here and that he was terribly ill.”
Tess’s words sent a shiver down Sierra’s spine. “We left the others behind. All Jack would say was that he had to get to you. He
