He forced himself to shuffle his weak leg forward, topping the rise and scrambling down the slope to where the woman sat. He removed his hat to address her, and she lifted red-rimmed eyes to him.
Only then did he realize that the mass of skirts around her bulged in the front. The dress she wore… It was the same style Mrs. Ingrid wore when she was about to give birth to little William.
His mouth went dry and his throat constricted. Not only a woman, but one in the family way. He’d need to be extra gentle with her. It’d be ten days to Settler’s Fort, Lord, help him. If they could make it that long, he'd deliver her safely into the hands of Doc Micah.
Please, let us make it.
He forced his gaze back up to her eyes, the ones that the hope had leaked out of. He knew that feeling. He’d lived the sadness.
He swallowed to bring enough moisture into his mouth to speak. "I'm Aaron Long." The words came out raspy, so he cleared his throat. “I assume you were riding on that wagon?” How had she gotten off before the wreck? Was she injured?
She nodded. “I had just climbed down. A wildcat jumped from a tree and landed on the mules.” Her lips rolled in, her jaw trembling.
Confound it. Help me here, Lord.
The mules must have run for all they were worth to shake free of that cougar. Poor Driscoll.
He shifted farther down the slope so he didn’t loom over her, then he softened his voice. "Are you hurt, ma'am?"
She shook her head, a dainty movement that didn't belong out here in these rough mountains. What was she doing in this land?
Was she really not injured? He slid a glance down the length of her, but those voluminous skirts covered everything. She would've said if she’d broken a limb, surely. She did climb the hill after all.
She hadn't spoken much, though, not since asking about the driver. Had shock altered her senses? "Can I get you something, ma'am? A drink of water?"
She locked those reddened eyes on him again, and the desperation in her expression gripped his chest. "What am I going to do?"
What indeed. He reached out a hand. "Come up the hill. I need to bring my rig over here, then we'll sort through what's best to do next."
She straightened, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. Maybe regaining control of herself. But instead of taking his hand, she waved it away and turned on her hands and knees. Then she slowly worked up to a standing position. The task looked as if it required a great deal of effort, but with his own weakness, all he could do was grip her elbow and help her rise.
Her face formed a grimace as she straightened and placed both hands under her large belly, pulling her arm from his hold in the process. She squared her shoulders once more and started up the slope.
Obviously, she didn’t want the likes of him touching her. Who could blame the lady?
As he followed, her every step looked as painful as his, and her breathing grew loud again. For his part, he had to lock his jaw against the burning in his foot where the flesh had rubbed raw.
At last they reached the flat ground at the summit, and she paused to suck in gulps of air. She still had her hands braced beneath her protruding middle, and the position outlined the expanse of the bulge there. That babe must be ready to come any time. Where was her husband?
She caught him looking, and heat surged up his neck. Before he could turn away, she offered a tight smile. "I have a month still. Long enough to reach Fort Benton."
Her gaze shifted toward the wagon and the still form nearby. "That's where Mr. Driscoll was taking me. He said there's a doctor there who can deliver my baby. Then when the ships start coming up the Missouri in the spring, we’ll take the first one back to Philadelphia."
One month.Lord, don't let that little one come early.
“Is your husband waiting in Fort Benton for you?” If so, why hadn’t he come for her instead of making her travel alone with a freighter? As this situation showed, travel in these mountains could be treacherous.
She lifted her chin, though she didn’t look at him again. “He died on our homestead. My family lives back in Philadelphia.”
Poor thing. She was having to navigate this challenging journey completely alone. And in her grief too. He’d have to take her with him to Settler’s Fort then. And get her there as soon as he could manage so she’d have time to settle in before the baby came.
He followed her gaze to the wagon, bracing his hands at his waist as he studied the spilled contents. "It'll take me a couple hours to bury Driscoll. Then I have a little room on my load to add some of his." He shot a look her way. "Do you know which town he was hauling from so I can get the things back to their owners?"
Her brow lowered. "It was a small town with several mines. I might be able to remember the name if I think on it."
He nodded. He didn't cotton to the idea of taking part of the shipment without knowing whom to return it to, but if he left it here, others would scavenge with even less ability or desire to deliver the goods back to their owners. And he’d promised the Lord he’d do the right thing every chance he could.
He motioned toward the front of the wagon. "You can sit and rest while I get my team. I have water and a pot of beans I'm happy to share."
