Wild Thunder

“Yes, seems so,” Captain Abbott said, dropping his hand to his side after giving Strong Wolf a weak handshake. “Thank God, though, most of the crew isn’t sick with the disease. They are just worn out from caring for those who are.”

He took a quick look over his shoulder at the boat, then looked solemnly at Hannah again. “We had a doctor on board the boat, or more would have died,” he said.

“A . . . doctor . . . ?” Hannah said, her heart sinking. “His name, sir? What is the doctor’s name?”

“Howard Kody,” the captain said, forking an eyebrow at her reaction when sh

e grabbed for Strong Wolf, in an effort to steady herself.

“Lord, no,” Hannah cried. She inhaled a quavering breath.

Then she broke away from them and ran toward the boat. Ignoring those who shouted at her to stop, Strong Wolf among them, Hannah ran on up the gangplank and shoved the crew aside, who stood gaping at her. She ran in and out of the cabins until she found that which housed the ill.

Her knees grew weak when she discovered her father kneeling beside a bunk, trying to force water down the throat of a lady whose face was gaunt and leathery, her eyes closed.

“Father,” Hannah gasped. “Oh, Father!”

Howard turned around. He dropped the cup of water and rushed to his feet. He went to Hannah, grabbed her by a hand, and quickly led her out of the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said in a half shout. “Don’t you know this is a death boat? Half of the passengers are dead, Hannah, and you come aboard and expose yourself to cholera? You know better, Hannah. Lord, you know better.”

Hardly recognizing him, Hannah stared at him. He was so ashen. His hair was unkempt and hung limply along his collar line. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. And he had lost considerable weight.

His clothes, which were always immaculately clean, were soiled and wrinkled. His coat was discarded and he was in his shirtsleeves, the sleeves half rolled up to the elbow.

“Where’s . . . Mother . . .?” she managed to ask, her voice thin with concern. “Father, please, please, don’t tell me that Clara is also on the boat.”

“Both are here,” Howard said, taking her into his arms, hugging her.

Then he held her away from him and gently gripped her shoulders as he told her a truth that would cut clean into her very soul. “Clara . . . she . . . is quite ill,” he finally managed to say, clutching Hannah’s shoulders harder when he saw her grow limp with despair. “But Mother is well, Hannah. She’s with Clara now. She’s seeing to her comfort.”

“Is . . . Clara . . . dying?”

“We are doing what we can,” was all that he said.

“Did you receive my wires?” Hannah asked, tears rushing from her eyes. “Am I the cause of you being on this horrid boat?”

“What wires?” her father asked, forking an eyebrow.

“Then, you are here for another purpose than my marriage to Strong Wolf?” Hannah said, searching his tired eyes for answers.

“Marriage?” her father gasped. “To an Indian?”

She meekly nodded.

“No,” he said, wearily. “I did not receive such a wire as that. We . . . are here . . . for a much different purpose than that.”

“Why, Father?” Hannah asked. “Why?”

“Your mother and I accompanied Clara on the journey,” he said, his voice breaking. “You see, Hannah, Clara made a decision we did not approve of, yet we supported her, since she was so determined to do it.”

“What . . . decision . . . ?” Hannah asked softly.

“She wants to teach Indian children,” he blurted. “She was on her way to the Potawatomis village. She is going to teach there.”

His eyes lowered. “She was going to,” he said, swallowing hard. “Now . . . I . . . don’t know. We had no idea that someone came aboard who was ill with cholera. Damn it, the disease spread through the passengers like wildfire. Clara? She helped with the ill. Now?” He hung his head in his hands. “Now, I just don’t know.”

Hannah was dumbstruck by the news.