Read Online A Home in Drayton Valley by Kim Vogel Sawyer - Free Book Online Page A

clutched the hair at his temples, stifling a snarl. That woman! He couldn’t wait to be rid of her and her sassy, argumentative tongue. He glared at Mary, who lay on a pile of quilts draped across the trunks. Three days’ worth of frustration rose up, ready to spew from his mouth. But one look at his wife’s white, drawn face, and his fury flickered and died.
    Crawling into the back, he touched her cheek. “That Tarsie and her talk of medicinal cures . . .” His words growled out. “That’s all it is, is talk. She’s done you no good.”
    Mary’s face puckered as if discomfort gripped her, but a weak laugh left her throat. “She’s done me much good, Joss, just being here.” She clutched his hand, pressing his palm more firmly to her face. “Don’t torment her. It grieves me to hear you two fussing at one another. Can’t you be friends?”
    Joss had no desire to grieve Mary, but he couldn’t admit to any hankering to befriend the Irish girl, either. “I need to unhitch the team. Do you want to stay here and rest, or would you like to get out?”
    â€œI’d like to get out and enjoy the evening breeze.” She tried to push herself upright. Her face contorted, and she dropped back onto the rumpled quilts with a strangled moan.
    Joss reached for her. So much effort just to sit up. No matter what Mary said, Tarsie’s cures were useless. He scooped her into his arms and eased her over the edge of the wagon. He followed with the quilts and laid them out in the shade of the wagon. When she’d settled herself, he crouched before her. “You all right there?”
    She offered a gentle smile. “I’m fine, Joss. Go about your business.”
    His legs stiff from hours on the wagon seat, he scuffed to the horses and released them from their rigging. He tetheredthe pair within reach of the creek and left them contentedly munching tender shoots of green along the bank. By the time he returned to the wagon, Tarsie had already started a fire. A coffeepot sat on one side of the crackling flames, a covered kettle on the other. She held a bowl between her skirt-draped knees and stirred cornmeal into a mushy mess with a wooden spoon.
    Joss stifled a snort. Beans and johnnycakes for supper. Again. The aroma of roasted meat drifting from the campfires of the wagon train made Joss salivate. He paused, lifting his face to inhale the scent and let it flavor his tongue. Then, without warning, something else drifted from the camp. A scream.
    Tarsie leaped up. The bowl tumbled from her lap and its contents splattered across the ground. A second scream rent the air, this one even more piercing than the first. Nathaniel and Emmy raced from their playing spot nearby. Tarsie held out her arms, and the children clung to her.
    Mary struggled to her feet and staggered to Joss’s side. She clutched his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. “W-what do you suppose is happening?”
    Joss shook his head. “Nothing good, that’s for sure.”
    Tarsie separated herself from the children and scuttled to Mary. “It must be the woman straining to deliver her babe. I should fetch my pouch and go over. Maybe—”
    â€œYou stay here,” Joss ordered.
    A third scream, long and anguished, carried to their ears. The hair on Joss’s neck prickled. He curled his arm around Mary’s waist and turned her toward the quilts. “Sit and rest. No matter what’s going on over there, there’s nothing you can do.”
    Tarsie let out a little huff. “There’s somethin’ I can be doing!” She grabbed up her skirts, darted to the wagon, and clambered into the bed. Moments later she emerged withher pouch tucked under her arm. “I’m going over to see if I can help.”
    â€œI told you—”
    Mary grabbed Joss’s arm. “Let her go, Joss.”
    Joss ground his teeth as Tarsie