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“Don’t you worry. Once you get settled in at Miss Rose’s, you can work it out with her. I’m sure she’ll help you. You can pay her back when you’re on your feet again. Let me get that pain medicine. You’re about due.”
    Abby moved to the table behind her. It seemed this room served as kitchen, sitting room and sleeping area for the pastor. It must be his bed she lay on. Her leg throbbed in time with her head. She had to get out of here.
    “Here you go.” Abby nudged a spoonful of liquid to her. “This’ll help you rest, too. You’ve had quite a night. I should’ve told you to stick closer to town.”
    She swallowed the liquid, but Abby’s words burned her with embarrassment. What would she think if she knew there had been no plan to stay? Not that it mattered now. Did it? Was there any way to explain how grateful she was for the kindness they’d shown and make them understand that she couldn’t allow it anymore? It didn’t seem likely, not without telling too much.
    “I’m not one to be hemmed in,” she said. She fisted the blankets around her and slid down into the pillow.
    “Believe me, I can understand that,” Abby said. Her eyebrows lifted, and Journey braced herself for more questions. “I didn’t expect you to ride so far out of town. We were looking for you to come back any time when Zane came pounding on the door. He’d found Doc Ferris at the Wilsons’ and sent him out here, then came for Sam to help with your horse. I had Sam hook up the wagon and bring me along to see what I could do. I thought you might feel better if you came to with a familiar face around, instead of a complete stranger here.”
    Journey fought the gathering tears. She nodded and her throat felt tight. “You’re right. Thank you.” She didn’t know this woman well, but it was better than waking up with an unknown doctor prodding around. “Where are they?”
    “Doc Ferris figured you’d rest quietly awhile, and he needed to get back to the Wilsons’ to check on their new baby before he headed back to town,” Abby said. “Zane and Sam should be back any minute now, soon as they get your horse checked over.”
    Journey felt the bandage over her temple as she brushed a curl from her forehead. She smoothed the blanket at her waist with the other hand even though Abby had already done that. Her leg felt better since taking the medicine, and her head slowed its throbbing. She yawned.
    “Did Reverend Thompson—Zane—say how she was?”
    “Your horse?”
    “Yes.” She yawned again. “Gypsy.”
    Abby turned away, as if she suddenly remembered the spoon and bottle she still held. They clinked together on the table. “Zane didn’t say. He was more anxious about Doc Ferris getting out here to see you. He said you were in and out, calling him ‘Hank’ or something like that.”
    Journey kept her eyes down, staring at her hands on the quilt. A chill fell over her. She no longer felt drowsy. What else might she have said?
    But Abby chattered on, unaware that she’d struck a nerve. “If anyone can patch up your horse, it’s Zane. He worked with his father raising horses before Mr. Thompson passed away. What he didn’t know about horses wouldn’t fill a thimble, and he taught Zane everything.”
    She slid back down on the bed, pulling the covers all the way over her shoulders, and Abby put another log on the fire. “Keep warm. Doc was worried you’d fall into shock, being out in the cold air like you were. But you look better already than you did when I first arrived. Your color’s back.”
    Boots on the porch boards outside the front door roused her. She and Abby turned as the door swung open, revealing Zane and Sam. Journey caught the shake of Sam’s head when he looked at his wife. The sharp whinny of the horse echoed in her memory. How bad could it be?
    Zane looked haggard. The bruise around his eye from his fall at Miss Rose’s was dark and swollen. He rubbed a hand over the shadow beard on his