A Cowboy's Promise By: Linda Ford

Chapter 13

Holt lost track of the hours as he and Lizzie alternately sponged Mr. Tate or tried to amuse Emma, the tension in the room getting thicker as the day waned. Nothing had changed with the sick man. Except the fever was sucking the life from him. What would happen to the girls if their father died?

"Is there no doctor we can call?" Holt asked. 

"The nearest doctor is two days away and said he could do little when we called for him the last time." Lizzie's voice creaked with worry. She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. 

Holt longed to take her hands and pull her close. Offer comfort and encouragement. And so much more. But a man on the run had nothing to offer. 

"I've heard tales about a Métis woman out on Burke Edwards's ranch," she said. "They say she has herbs that help cure illnesses. Her name is Paquette."

"I'm going to find her." He'd already started pulling on his coat. "How do I get to this ranch?" 

Lizzie shook her head. "It's threatening a storm. It's too late in the day to make it back before dark." 

If he wasn't so worried about Mr. Tate and the cold ride ahead of him he might have cheered. She didn't want him to go. She was concerned about his safety. "I'll return with help." A man could ride many a mile, face snow, darkness, even men wanting to execute frontier justice if he knew a woman waited for him. 

Not allowing himself a chance to examine the foolishness of such thoughts, he strode out into the dark and out of town. As he rode from town, the wind tore his breath away but it didn't deter him. He kept up a steady pace until he reached a set of buildings that he hoped was the ranch he sought. His limbs stiff with cold, he dismounted and staggered to the door. His knock was answered by a dark-haired man. "I'm looking for a woman named Paquette." 

A bent-over, crippled woman stood near the stove. "I be Paquette, me. Who you?" 

He explained about Mr. Tate's illness. "We heard you could help." 

She nodded. "I have cures." 

"Please, would you come with me?" He knew they didn't understand the urgency of his request. "Right away?" 

The man, who had identified himself as Burke Edwards, the owner of the ranch, answered. "It's almost dark and a storm's threatening. Better to wait for morning."

Holt shook his head. He couldn't wait. Lizzie would be worried sick. And Mr. Tate... "I must return." He reached for the door. 

"Don't be foolish," Edwards said. 

"I go with him, boss." Paquette shuffled toward a hallway. "You wait. I get things." 

Edwards groaned. "I better go along, too, just to make sure you get there safely."

Holt shifted from one foot to the other as Paquette got ready and Edwards ducked out to saddle the horses. Finally they were mounted and on their way. 

But before long he began to wonder if he should have listened to Edwards's advice. The snow started, turning the air before him into a wall of white, the road disappearing in the darkness and swirling snow.