Smoke barely drifted from the stone chimney.
Samuel rode the last few hundred yards at a gallop.
He jumped down before his horse fully stopped.
“Jasper!”
No answer.
Ellie dismounted more carefully.
Her knees nearly buckled.
She steadied herself against Daisy.
Samuel pushed open the cabin door.
The smell reached Ellie from six feet away.
Blood.
Sweat.
Old bandages.
Infection.
She knew the smell.
She hated the smell.
She stepped inside.
The cabin was larger than expected but poorly heated.
One black iron stove stood near the wall.
A table.
Two chairs.
Shelves.
Pelts.
Tools.
A rifle.
And against the far wall, a heavy wooden bed.
A man lay on it.
Ellie stopped.
Even ill, Jasper Cain looked enormous.
He had to be close to six feet eleven.
Broad shoulders stretched beneath the blankets.
His arms were heavily muscled.
Dark hair hung damp around his face.
A thick beard made him look older than he probably was.
His skin was flushed with fever.
The upper half of his body was bare except for makeshift bandages around his torso.
Blood had seeped through.
Samuel approached.
“Jasper.”
No response.
“Cain.”
The man’s eyelids moved.
Then opened.
Blue eyes.
Even fever could not dim them completely.
They searched the room.
Found Samuel.
Then Ellie.
Jasper stared.
Ellie expected the familiar movement.
Eyes downward.
Assessment.
Surprise.
Instead his gaze remained on her face.
“Who?”
His voice barely existed.
Ellie removed her gloves.
“Eleanor Caldwell.”
He blinked.
“Nurse.”
“Yes.”
Samuel leaned close.
“She came from Copper Falls.”
Jasper looked at Ellie again.
“Through storm?”
“Yes.”
His eyes softened.
“Fool woman.”
Ellie raised an eyebrow.
“Excellent. You’re rude enough to live.”
Samuel laughed in relief.
Jasper’s lips moved faintly.
Then his eyes closed.
Ellie placed two fingers against his neck.
Pulse fast.
Too fast.
She touched his forehead.
Burning.
“Samuel.”
“Yes?”
“More wood.”
Samuel moved.
“Boil water.”
He grabbed the kettle.
“Every clean cloth in this cabin.”
Samuel opened cupboards.
“Wash your hands first.”
He looked toward the basin.
“With soap.”
He obeyed.
Ellie removed her cloak.
Then her heavy outer sweater.
Underneath she wore a cream-colored working blouse over her skirts.
Her hair had partially escaped its pins.
She ignored it.
She opened the medical bag.
“Jasper.”
His eyes opened again.
“I need to examine you.”
He grunted.
“I’m going to remove the bandages.”
Another grunt.
“That means yes?”
“Means do your work.”
Ellie almost smiled.
She cut the cloth.
The first layer peeled away.
Samuel turned pale.
Ellie did not.
Four deep lacerations crossed Jasper’s left side.
One extended from near the shoulder toward the ribs.
Another cut across the flank.
Someone, presumably Jasper himself, had attempted sutures.
Some held.
Some had torn.
Swelling surrounded the deepest wound.
The skin was red.
Hot.
Angry.