“I'm Clara.”
“I know.”
She blinked.
He pointed toward Martha.
“She said your name.”
Martha looked embarrassed.
Clara smiled faintly.
“Then introductions are efficient today.”
Samuel considered this.
Clara reached toward him.
“Can I touch your forehead?”
He nodded.
Warm.
Not dangerously hot.
She listened while he breathed.
Then asked him to cough.
He did.
Deep.
Clara looked toward Nathaniel.
“He needs warmth tonight.”
“Not wagon sleep.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“I was planning the livery room.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Dust.”
“Horse bedding.”
“Cold.”
Samuel coughed again.
Clara turned toward the Reverend.
“Mrs. Alvarez still rents rooms?”
“Yes.”
“Does she have one?”
The Reverend nodded.
“I believe two.”
Nathaniel said:
“I can pay.”
Clara looked at him.
“I assumed you could.”
A tiny smile moved through his beard.
Martha noticed.
She disliked it.
Clara continued.
“Get him broth.”
“Keep him near a stove.”
“If fever climbs or breathing gets faster, fetch Doctor Mills.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“Thank you.”
She turned back toward the wash tub.
Martha’s voice followed.