Glorious Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) by Debra Holland Read Free Book Online Page B

Micah a gentle nudge. “We’re almost to Sweetwater Springs.” He smoothed down the boy’s tousled brown hair, the same mink-brown color as his mother’s.
    Micah read on for a few more lines before slowly lifting his head. He closed the book and looked out the window, his eyes blank and an indifferent slump to his shoulders.
    “You will like it here, Micah.”
    The boy shrugged, not removing his gaze from the window.
    Joshua suppressed a sigh. He’d hoped the train journey home would pique the boy’s interest in America and banish his homesickness for Africa. So far that hadn’t happened, and he prayed that living with his loving grandparents and having the freedom of Sweetwater Springs, instead of being cooped up in Cambridge, would help Micah adjust. “Let’s get ready for our departure.”
    He closed the volume of A Treatise on Isaiah by Reverend Sidney Ord, a parting gift from his father-in-law, which he’d been reading, reached for his valise, and tucked the book inside. While he appreciated the opportunity to read a new book, a luxury for the last several years, Joshua would have preferred to cast off study and reread the adventures of Tom and Huck. Maybe he’d borrow it from Micah when his son had finished the story.
    Micah handed over Tom Sawyer and the glass bottle that had contained milk that they’d bought on their last stop.
    Joshua deposited both items inside the valise and set the bag back down.
    The conductor burst into the car. “Is there a doctor in here?” he called out.
    The desperation in his voice shot a chill through Joshua. As the train had traveled farther west, more and more people had disembarked. He didn’t recall seeing any of the remaining passengers in the typical Prince Albert frock coat that doctors often wore. He half stood, holding on to the seat in front of him.
    The conductor’s gaze went to Joshua’s clerical cravat.
    “I’m not a physician,” he hastened to say. “But I’m a minister. Is there anything I can do to help?”
    The portly conductor waved toward the first class car behind him. “A man has collapsed. His daughter is quite distraught. If you could give her some comfort.”
    “Certainly.”
    “I must see if there’s a doctor on board.”
    Joshua jerked his head toward the back of the car. “Go.”
    The conductor lurched by.
    Joshua slid out of his seat. “Stay here,” he ordered Micah.
    His son’s blue eyes were round and fearful. He gulped and nodded.
    Joshua rose and hurried up the aisle, pushing open the door connecting the two first class cars and going through to the other one.
    As in his car, there were only a few people in their seats. Most watched the front with avid curiosity, where a woman knelt, her arm stretched over the back of the seat, holding the hand of a man who was sprawled out, his legs bent into the aisle, feet touching the floor.
    “Papa! Please, Papa, speak to me.” Her low voice held a panicked note.
    Joshua recognized the woman he’d seen in St. Louis, the one who’d stood up for Micah, and the natural concern he’d feel for any human who was suffering suddenly became personal. He moved closer.
    She looked up, hazel eyes shining with tears and a pleading expression that begged him to help. “Are you a doctor?”
    “No, miss, I’m sorry. I’m a minister.” He touched his clerical cravat. “Reverend Joshua Norton. I thought I’d see if I could render assistance.” As he spoke, Joshua moved to where he could see her father.
    The older gentleman’s face was gray, his hazel eyes dull, although the slow rise and fall of his chest showed he yet lived.
    “Let’s make him more comfortable, shall we?” Joshua made his words soothing, hoping to infuse her with calm. “Untie his cravat and unbutton his shirt so he can breathe more easily.”
    She gave a small nod and hoisted herself over the edge of the seat, stretching to reach the black cravat around the man’s neck. Once the woman untied the ends, she let them