Jericho reached for the bundle of blankets. "No, Dinah. Stay with Jonah and the children. There might be nothing we can do in the village. Two Stones said it's the spotting sickness."
She paused, her brows drawing together. "Smallpox?"
She was familiar with it then. "I can't risk you or anyone else getting it,” Jericho said. “Do you have medicine I can take to them?"
She straightened, inhaling a breath. "There's much I can do for them." She started for the door, not looking back to see if Two Stones was following. “I was inoculated as a child, so I can’t contract it again.”
Jericho wanted to stride forward and grab her arms, drag her back into the cabin, and make her stay put. But he couldn't do that. Not without looking like a cad.
Two Stones was already following her. If the woman wanted to put herself and her sister—and that unborn baby—at risk, maybe he couldn't stop her. But he'd be there to help too.
Jude already had Dinah's horse saddled and stood holding all three animals as Jericho exited the cabin. Within minutes they were riding down the slope, Two Stones in the lead.
Jericho shot a look at Dinah. She was focused on guiding her horse around the stones scattered along the trail. In a couple of hours, she'd be faced with a challenge far greater than navigating a rocky path.
* * *
The conditions at the camp were worse than Dinah had imagined.
Two Stones’s village was nestled in a valley, surrounded by pine-covered slopes. A picturesque scene, with the homes a combination of bark huts and animal-skin tipis. But she could smell the stench of sickness before they dismounted at the edge of the trees. Moans and crying drifted through the air.
Her heart ached as she untied the bundle of blankets and her saddle pack from behind her saddle. Two Stones had her case of medical supplies.
"I will take the horses." Two Stones handed her bag to Jericho, then reached for both their reins.
Jericho motioned for her to follow him as he walked between a bark hut and a leather lodge. Two children sat at the base of one hut, staring up at them as they passed. She forced a smile for them. The younger had a half-dozen postules dotting her sweet face. They looked to be scabbing over, one of the final healing stages.Thank You, Lord.
Dinah had spent half the ride here praying and the other half trying to remember all the phases smallpox went through from the moment a patient contracted it through the final scarring.
They passed more people—mostly children—sitting outside as Jericho led her through the maze of homes. At last, he paused in front of a bark hut, looking back at her with his brows raised, sadness marking his eyes.
She nodded to show she was ready.
He pushed aside the leather curtain hanging in the doorway, and she peered in as she followed him into the dim interior. The smell stung her nose, pressing on her chest.
Jericho shifted to the right, and her eyes made out two bed pallets.
She stepped closer, crouching beside the nearest one. A gnarled face stared at her, crowned by white hair that looked greasy. Even in the dimness, she could see the dozens of pustules peppering the wrinkled skin.
"This is White Bear, Two Stones's father." Jericho's voice sounded grim as he stood beside her. Then he spoke something in the man's language.
The man stared up at Jericho while he spoke, and when he finished, the Salish father dropped his gaze to Dinah. The weariness in his eyes squeezed her insides.
He opened his mouth, and she leaned in. His voice came out with a wheeze. "My Running Woman. Two Stones say you help."
His English was clearer than she'd expected, but the pain in his voice drew her gaze past him to the form lying on the furs beside him.
The woman was as wrinkled as her husband, with large postules all over her face, some scabbed and some oozing. Her eyes stayed closed, but her chest rose and fell.
Dinah's own breath wouldn't come as she studied the signs of a case that might be too far gone for help. She rose and moved around to the woman's side. The sores continued even onto her scalp, visible between strands of white hair.
Dinah knelt and ran her fingers over an unblemished section of skin. Feverish. Her lips were chapped and bright red. Time to do what little she could.
She reached out for her case, and Jericho brought it to her. "I'm going to need clean water. Both for drinking and cleaning." From the smell of things, she would need to wash both of her patients well from the effects of how smallpox always irritated the digestive system.
While Jericho left to carry out her request, she pulled a salve from her case and applied it to Running Woman's lips, then reached over to do the same for White Bear. She had to get them both drinking and make a broth for nourishment. She could offer something for the pain, but that might do more harm than good. Pop had always felt most patients who died of the disease succumbed to weakness from not eating while the body fought so hard. She needed Running Woman to be awake enough to fight if she could.
Two Stones arrived as she was inspecting his mother's legs and feet, and she set him to work preparing meat for the broth. Jericho returned with water, and she used some of it to clean Running Woman and change her bedding.
