I didn't see any identification among her things. No, but that's not unusual for folks passing through. Many come west with little more than the clothes on their backs and whatever they can carry. The doctor began preparing a tincture from bottles on a nearby shelf. Martha and I can take them in for now, but our house is already full with my sister and her children visiting from St.
Louis. Wyatt knew what was coming next. I'll check with Mrs. Landry at the boarding house, he offered. She might have a room available.
That would be helpful, but they'll need more than just a roof over their heads, Dr. Harrison said, giving Wyatt a meaningful look. The woman won't be able to care for herself or the child for some time, and without knowing if she has family or friends coming after her. The unspoken question hung in the air between them, Wyatt shifted uncomfortably. He was a solitary man by nature and circumstance, having spent most of his 32 years moving from ranch to ranch, never staying in one place long enough to form lasting connections.
The small cabin he currently occupied on the edge of the rocking H ranch where he worked was barely suitable for one person, let alone a woman and a baby. Before he could respond, Martha returned with the infant, who was now sucking eagerly at a makeshift bottle fashioned from a small medicine vial fitted with a piece of clean cloth. She's a hungry little thing, Martha said, smiling down at the baby. And a girl, by the way. No more than 3 months old, I'd say.
And her mother, Wyatt asked, looking at the pale face of the young woman on the examination table. We won't know anything more until she wakes up," Dr. Harrison replied. "For now, we need to focus on bringing down her fever and keeping her hydrated." Wyatt nodded, knowing he couldn't simply walk away. "I'll talk to Mrs.
Landry about a room, and then I need to let Mr. Henderson know what's happened. I was supposed to be back at the ranch hours ago." He hesitated, then added, "I can check in tomorrow to see how they're doing, doctor. Harrison nodded, understanding the cowboy's reluctance to become too involved. That would be appreciated, Wyatt, and thank you for bringing them in.
Many men might have ridden on past. The thought had never even occurred to Wyatt. He nodded curtly, settled his hat back on his head, and headed for the door. Before leaving, he cast one last glance at the woman and child. Something twisted in his chest at the sight.
Something unfamiliar and uncomfortable that he chose not to examine too closely. Outside, he untied copper from the hitching post and led him toward the boarding house, his mind filled with thoughts of the woman with light brown hair and the baby with sky blue eyes. Who were they? Where had they come from? And why were they alone on the prairie miles from anywhere?
The answers would have to wait. For now, all he could do was ensure they had a safe place to recover. Tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out the rest. Mrs. Landry, a widow who ran the town's only boarding house, was initially hesitant about taking in an ill woman and an infant.