She nodded. "I'm so glad you're here."

He took the sheet from her and dunked it into the water pail. When it was soaked through, he pulled it out. "You take two corners, and I'll take the others."

Following Caleb's lead, Anna pulled the sheet taut, and they waved it up and down until it billowed in the air. Then they took quick steps to the hammock. Mutter stepped away with the cup, and Caleb laid the cold sheet over Grovater. His trembling intensified, and Anna's insides shivered in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Grovater."

Camille stepped up beside her. "You did the right thing. You will see."

"I hope you're right. I hope I do see him better."

"The sheet warms quickly, so you'll need to repeat this several times."

Three hours later, Anna lay in her hammock, listening to Grovater's sleep breathing and thanking God. The shivering had finally stopped, and the fever had broken as the moon arced overhead. When Dr. Le Beau and Camille left, Mutter had gone in to her bed. Boney and Caleb lingered for a few minutes while Anna got more tea into Grovater.

The doctor couldn't say for sure what had caused the fever, but since it had broken, he believed Grovater would be well again. His peaceful sleep told Anna it was true, but sleep still evaded her.

Now, all she could think about was Caleb. The way he'd found her. Held her hand. Stood beside her. Helped her with the sheet. Said he was praying with her. In just one week, her estimation of him had drastically changed.

And for the better. By leaps and bounds.

21.

Caleb dropped the last hoof after cleaning and checking them all for cracks. He had already saddled his Pacer and tied up his bedroll. The doctor said Otto would need to take it easy for a few days to regain his strength, so Anna would be needing help with their work.

Isaac gave a low whistle. "You sure are whippin' through them chores this mornin'."

"Like you had a fire under you." Tiny twisted his head as if to see a fire at Caleb's feet.

Frank chuckled as he backed the oxen into position in front of the chuck wagon. "He's in such a hurry I'm surprised he didn't offer to pay us to do his work."

"Go." Boney stood and pushed his flop hat back on his head.

Caleb met his gaze. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." Boney nodded. "I'll finish up for you."

"You're not coming?"

"Naw, you go on ahead." Boney waved toward the Goben camp. "She'll be glad to see you."

Too anxious to see Anna-all of the Gobens-Caleb didn't take the time to question Boney further. Instead, he went to the washbasin and scrubbed his hands clean.

"Just one thing, Caleb," Boney said.

Caleb tucked his shirt into his trousers. "Yes, I'll tell them you sent greetings, and I'll let you know how Otto's doing."

"Okay, that and one more thing."

Caleb nodded, finger-combing his hair.

"Anna never once looked at me the way she looks at you."

So, it wasn't his imagination. Even before the crisis last night, he was sure he'd noticed something different in her eyes. And definitely Sunday when he'd found her in the pasture.

"Anna is strong, but it don't mean she can't be hurt." Boney's eyes narrowed. "Don't you be the one to do it."

"I won't." Caleb no sooner made the promise when the few sips of coffee he'd swallowed soured in his stomach. He'd been so determined not to care about a woman or to invite a woman's affections. Until Anna. Now what was he to do?

Boney should be the one going to check on Otto, Anna, and Wilma. Despite that fact, Caleb's feet carried him down the line, past the Becks, to the Gobens' camp. Could've knocked him to the ground with a feather when he saw Otto sitting in a cane chair with his feet on one of the rocks circling the fire.

Caleb opened his mouth to speak, but when Otto tilted his head toward the hammock on the far side, he forced his mouth closed. Anna wasn't up yet. How had she slept through Isaac's horn blasts? Through the chaos up and down the line? It wasn't like her.

He seated himself on a chair beside Otto and whispered, "Is Anna all right? She's not sick, is she?"

Otto shook his head. "I don't think she gave in to sleep before the sun started peeking over them trees."

"She was very worried. We all were." Caleb studied the man's face for any signs of illness. His eyes were focused this morning. "You sure you should be up so soon?"

"Might feel as weak as a fresh kitten, but no fever."

"That's good news. But you don't think hitting the road today would be too much?"

"I may have to kick my daughter off the seat, but I'll be ready to go."

Relief washed over Caleb. He knew Otto well enough to know he wouldn't want to delay the train, and Caleb didn't want to leave the Gobens behind. Thankfully, Otto knew he wasn't well and was willing to ride.

"Just so you know," Otto drew in a deep breath, "I wasn't so sick that I don't remember those freezing sheets you plopped on me."

"That wasn't my idea."

Otto arched his eyebrows. "You think that matters?"

Caleb chuckled, keeping the sound beneath his breath.

"You're a good man, Caleb. I knew it that day on my porch back in Saint Charles."

"Thank you, sir." He was trying to be a good man, if that meant anything.

"But I see trouble in your eyes." Otto's face sobered, the lines at his mouth now smooth. "My guess is that trouble latched onto you in the war."

"Yes sir. It did."

"That's your business." Otto's eyes narrowed. "My granddaughter is mine."

"I want to protect Anna too."

"You've grown fond of her."

He swallowed. "I have, sir."

"How fond?"

"Probably too fond."

Anna had all but stopped breathing, trying not to move. Given what she'd just heard, it wasn't an easy task.

Caleb was fond of her.

She shouldn't have been surprised to learn that. Not after last night, when he'd sat with her at Grovater's bedside. The way he'd held her hand, squeezed it. Gone to the creek for a bucket of water and helped her put the chilled sheet on Grovater. The way he'd remained at her side until Grovater's fever broke and he'd come through the worst of it.

He couldn't know she was awake, that she'd heard him. Not now, anyway.

But what was she to do? It didn't seem he intended to go anywhere soon. And while that fact brought her comfort, she desperately needed to make a trip to the latrine. In addition, the sounds stirring in the camps around them told her she was likely the last one out of bed. How long had Caleb been here?

"You're still asleep, Anna Mae?" Mutter's voice.

Anna popped her eyes open. "Mutter? You're up?" Mutter was standing at the wagon, filling the coffeepot from the water barrel.

"Yes, I'm up."

Lifting herself into a sitting position, Anna looked at the other hammock. "Grovater?"

"He's up too. Over in his chair, visiting with a guest."

"A guest?" The acting might not earn her a place on a stage in San Francisco, but hopefully it was enough to convince Grovater and Caleb that she hadn't overheard their conversation.

"Good morning, Grovater. You are well?"

"For a man who had to drink bitter tea and have a cold sheet draped over him as if he were half-dead, I can't complain about how I'm feeling this morning."

He was on the mend if he could pretend he wasn't complaining when he was.

Anna glanced at Caleb, who had changed his shirt and combed his hair. "Good morning."

He stood. "Good morning, Anna. I, uh, came to help."

"Good. Otherwise, he might be tempted to do too much." She gave Grovater a warning glance.

"I'll go fetch the oxen and get them yoked." Caleb took his hat from his knee and set it on his head. "I would invite you to go with me, except, well, you're still in bed."

"Oh dear." Anna jumped up and tugged her sleeves straight. She'd been too tired to change into her dressing gown, so she still wore yesterday's rumpled clothes.

Caleb, Mutter, and Grovater all chuckled.

"I'll see you when I get back," Caleb said.

Anna nodded and smiled at the man who was fond of her.

"Probably too fond."

What did that mean? He was fond of her and wished he wasn't? He was fond of her, despite his attempts to guard his heart? Something they'd have in common, if that were the case. Or he was so fond of her that it was too late to turn his heart around, even if he wanted to?

Anna sighed as she stepped onto the wheel and up into the wagon. To save time in her morning ablutions, she'd use the chamber pot instead of making the trek to the latrine.

She, too, had seen the trouble in Caleb's eyes. What man didn't come home from the war without bringing at least a measure of trouble with him? Who could witness such horrors-brother killing brother-without it taking a piece of his own heart? His trouble could be overcome.

At least he had returned from the war. At least he had a chance at life. And perhaps she would have a chance too.

22.

Anna was up early Saturday morning, brushing her hair and anticipating Caleb's early visit. He'd come to their camp the past three mornings since Grovater had taken ill and helped fetch water, yoke the oxen, and pack up camp, and then ate breakfast across the table from her. She glanced at the hand he'd held, remembering the tenderness in his eyes when he told her of Grovater's illness and the warm surety of his touch when he guided her to Grovater's sickbed.

If a man's true character was revealed in his benevolent response to someone else's pain and need, then Caleb Reger had proven himself a compassionate and admirable man. Anna gave her hair a twist and pinned it on her head. Despite her assertion that she should avoid emotional attachments to tend to the needs of her family, the brown-eyed trail hand from Tennessee was capturing her heart.

"Morning, Otto. Ma'am." Caleb's visits could be timed with the first rays of sunrise illuminating the wagon canvas. She liked that about him too.

Anna stepped out over the seat. Four oxen stood at the tongue. Caleb leaned against the wheel, his back to her, but he quickly straightened and turned her direction.

"Good morning, Anna." He offered his hand.

"Good morning." Anna set her hand in his, watching as his fingers curled over the top of hers, sending a shiver up her arm and into her heart.

Mutter looked up from the potatoes she was slicing. "Thank you for bringing the oxen again this morning."

"Yes." Grovater warmed his hands at the fire ring. "I don't like needing help, but I appreciate the help nonetheless."

"It's my pleasure." Caleb may have been speaking to Grovater, but it was Anna he looked at as she stepped down from the wagon.

The brown-eyed trail hand had captured her heart. As surely as if he'd lassoed it with Duff Kamden's cowboy rope.

Mutter stared at their still-joined hands.