Chapter 29

Zion Encampment, Wyoming - July 1874

A wave of disorientation washed over Gabrielle as Jane dabbed her brow with a cool cloth. "You are doing much better today," Jane murmured, her voice a soothing balm.

Gabrielle managed a weak smile, the cool compress a welcome relief against the heat radiating from her skin. "Things are… clearer," she rasped, blinking away the remnants of lingering fog. "How long have I been…?"

"Three weeks," Jane replied gently.

Gabrielle's eyes snapped open, a jolt of disbelief coursing through her. "Three weeks?" Her voice rose in a hoarse squeak.

Jane placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Shh, hush now. You only regained consciousness a few days ago. Your fever… we need to keep it down."

Panic clawed at Gabrielle's throat. "My sister! I have to get word to Violette. She must be frantic!"

"Don't you worry, dear," Jane soothed. "We'll send word to her as soon as you're strong enough."

A fresh wave of despair washed over Gabrielle. She tried to shift her leg, but a jolt of pain shot through her. "I can't move my leg!" She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's broken," Jane explained. "But don't fret. My husband and some of the men here set it. It wasn't easy, but you were unconscious, thankfully. They did a good job, you'll be walking again soon."

Gratitude filled Gabrielle's heart despite the throbbing pain. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Looking at Jane, she couldn't help but notice how youthful she appeared for a woman with so many children. She'd only met Abigail and Sarah, but the sounds of other children playing drifted in from somewhere beyond the closed door.

"May I come in?" A man's voice called out, followed by a gentle knock.

"Come in, dear," Jane replied.

The door creaked open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm smile etched on his face. "This is my husband, Luke," Jane introduced. "He's been trying to find your family."

"Hello, sir," Gabrielle managed, her voice barely a croak.

"Just Luke, please," the man corrected kindly. "Abigail told us your name is Gabrielle?

"Yes, Gabrielle," she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Gabrielle Laurent. I'm from Baltimore."

"Baltimore!" Jane exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. "Goodness gracious, child! What on earth brings you all the way out to Wyoming?"

"What? Wyoming?!" Gabrielle whispered, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach.

"You mentioned Butte Meadows, that's not that far." Jane calmed her. "It's just across the border."

"We found you just a few miles from there." Luke nodded.

"My sister," She coughed and reached out for the glass of water, bringing it slowly to her lips. "I brought my sister out to meet her brother. He's the Sheriff in Butte Meadows."

"Do you remember what happened?" Luke asked concerned.

"I don't remember much." Gabrielle looked up at him and tried to remember. "I remember falling, I was in pain. A lot of pain, and then waking up here."

"There are cliffs about three miles west of Butte Meadows." Luke looked at his wife and then back at Gabrielle. "We found you about five miles away."

"You think she fell down the cliffs into the river?" Jane gasped.

"It's one explanation."

"You are truly a miracle Gabrielle." Jane smiled and held her hand. "Heavenly Father must have great things in store for you."

"Let her sleep dear." Luke took his wife's hand in his. "I will get word to the Sheriff that you are safe."

"Thank you very much." She smiled weakly. "For everything."

"Don't thank us." Luke smiled and turned before he shut the door. "Thank the Lord. He was the one that brought us to you."

Gabrielle nodded and smiled. She could hear the bustle of life outside her window but with the curtains closed she couldn't see anything. She didn't know anything about the people she was with, but she knew she was safe. They were God-fearing people, that she knew. She listened intently as a soft voice sang a slow hymn outside her window.

She wasn't raised with religion. She wasn't taught much other than scholastics and manners. Before her mother died she had sent Gabrielle to a Catholic boarding school in New York. That was where she learned of God. She remembered the story of the baby Jesus, Noah and his ark and the garden of Eden.

Once her mother died her stepfather insisted she return home and take care of Violette. There she had private tutors, no friends other than her sister, and rarely left the house. She heard no more stories of the Bible and didn't give it much thought after that.