Page 78 of A Rugged Beauty
She couldn't meet his gaze.
She'd spent every day of this journey nursing her hurt. She’d ignored him, ignored any consideration that he might’ve been hurt too.
It didn't matter, she told herself. He had abandoned her when it had counted most. There was no salvaging anything they'd once had—all of it was lost. The only thing that mattered now was finding help for her family and the others in camp. Nothing else.
"Let's go." She said the words stiffly, moved past him to boost herself into the saddle.
She couldn't help the awareness that he mounted up and pushed his horse into a walk just behind her. She'd ask her horse for a faster pace when they weren't so close to camp.
All of this would be easier if she could simply ignore Braddock. But she'd never been able to do that. Not from the very beginning.
"Should we send out two men as a hunting party?"
It took a moment for the words to register for Hollis, who'd been staring at the western horizon as the sun rose behind him.
The sky was lighting up, but he felt filled with darkness.
He shook himself and turned his unshaven cheek to Mr. Keller, who stood a little behind him, waiting expectantly. The man was pale and drawn, but at least he stood upright today.
Some of the travelers had begun to overcome the illness and recover.
But not Abigail.
"We've little fresh meat in camp," Mr. Keller said, pushing for an answer that Hollis didn't feel equipped to give.
"If you need the meat, and there are at least two of you fit to go, then go." His voice emerged coarse, like he hadn't spoken in a week, and Hollis saw the flash of surprise cross the other man's face before he nodded and walked away.
Hollis had spent most of the night with his head in his hands. He couldn't bear to sit at Abigail's side. He'd left that to Maddie, who'd dabbed her forehead with damp cloths to keep the fever down, dribbled water into Abigail's slack mouth.
Hollis had sat outside the camp and mourned. At the center of himself, there was an inferno of anger—and guilt.
He knew better.
He never should've let Abigail close.
Another footstep in the grass and he sighed. He didn't feel capable of leading the wagon train in this moment, but he had to find strength from somewhere. The people in his remaining company had trusted him with their lives. Somehow, he needed to put aside his own fierce grief and lead them.
It was Maddie, the deep lines around her mouth showing her exhaustion. But there was something more. A sadness written in her eyes. For one moment, terror and pain seized him.
"Abigail is resting," she said quietly. “She was awake for a few moments earlier.”
The horrible fear that had grabbed him by the throat receded, but his heart didn't heed. It still pounded in his chest like the hooves of a horde of buffalo.
“You should go to her.”
He was already shaking his head before she finished the statement. He couldn’t bear it.
Maddie's expression darkened. "Mrs. Miller passed away a few minutes ago." Alex, Paul and little Jenny had lost their father only yesterday. Now their mother was gone, too.
Hollis strained his ears and thought he could hear children crying over the quiet sounds of a camp just waking up.
"I'll make arrangements for her burial," he said.
Maddie nodded, eyes downcast. A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly raised one hand to brush it away. He took a longer look at her. She was pale, but he didn't think she'd been affected by the illness.
Her hands trembled. More tears threatened and she blinked rapidly, her lips pinching. "I'm not usually such a watering pot."
He put a hand on her shoulder.
