“I’m sorry you’re the one who is always stuck with me. It’ll only be until we get to the fort. Perhaps I could get a job there?”
“No.”
“No?”
“The only jobs are usually for women who will share themselves for money at night while they do laundry during the day. You have so many other choices.”
She nodded. “I could marry one of the half-breed guides I’ve heard about or one of the trappers. I’ve heard them offer to trade for me so they won’t be lonely all winter.”
“Look at me.”
She raised her head and met his clear water-blue eyes. She’d seen few men with red hair in her life. He sure was a handsome one.
“Dawn, you’ve been married surely you know those trappers don’t want a woman to have a conversation with. You deserve better.”
“I had better. I had my turn at happiness, and my turn is over. Life is funny that way and we never know what will happen next. I don’t think you get more than one time at happiness. I’m just not sure how far away from others I will have to live. I’m not acceptable, and I understand. It wasn’t anything I did, but I can’t change it. Perhaps I can get a piece of land and make my own way. I know I can survive.”
“We’ll figure something out. Right now we have to be alert and keep you safe. I can’t imagine how you survived. I see the marks on your arms. Which reminds me, let me see your feet.”
“I don’t think it proper.”
“Just show me.”
She hesitated and then showed him the bottoms of her feet. She knew he’d be shocked but though they always hurt, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. They were full of cuts, blisters, open wounds, scars. Even her toes were starting to curl up from the small shoes she’d been given.
“How in the world do you walk? It pains me to look at them. You stay put I’ll be right back.”
She nodded. She wasn’t supposed to leave the wagon. She took her Bible out and read. Sometimes she had no idea what things meant but reading them soothed her battered soul. She still held on to the booties as she took a deep breath. Then another. It was sweet of Swift Eagle to bring them to her. How had he known she needed to have them? Looking at them was hard. They represented the worst day of her life, but they were also the only physical reminder she had of her precious child. Lincoln used to tell her Patricia was perfect. She had been a sweet child, Lincoln a good man. He’d provided for them and he’d always put her happiness above his. He had died so, so young.
The wagon rocked and Heath was back. He had whiskey and bandages with him. Dawn’s breath caught. It was going to be painful.
“I get to drink the whiskey right?”
He smiled. “Just how many times have you had whiskey?”
“I never counted.”
He opened the jug. “Here, smell it before you take a swig.”
She took the jug, sniffed it, and shuddered. “Why do men like to drink it?”
“I actually like it. But I grew up on the stuff. That is, until the Great Hunger. Now give me a foot.”
“It won’t matter, they won’t heal. I had to stand in a bed of coals once. The skin has never healed after that. But every rock I step on hurts twice as much as before. I appreciate your efforts. Oohh, that hurts!” As he poured the alcohol over her foot, the pain was so intense her eyes watered and she couldn’t breathe. “Wash it off! Please!”
He just grabbed her other foot and did the same.
“Heath Leary, you are the very devil. Leave me be!” She squirmed and tried to turn this way and that, but he held her ankles. She managed to get one foot free and kicked his face before giving it a thought. She froze in place and grabbed a cloth to wipe away the blood from his nose. “It’s not broken.”
“It sure feels as though it is. I did a bit of boxing in Ireland to make a bit of money, and I’ve never been as hurt as this.” He grabbed the cloth from her and held it to his nose.
If she could have gone somewhere out of his sight she would have. She’d thought for a moment he’d hit her back, but he didn’t. He waited for the bleeding to stop and put down the cloth.
He then soaked a clean cloth in some water before he washed her feet. He was so gentle and it made her feel even worse.
“I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry. It does prove that I shouldn’t be around people. I’m dangerous. Please forgive me.”
“It was my own fault for trying to restrain you. You have one powerful kick.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Now I’m going to scrub your feet with lye soap, and it won’t feel the best, but the worst is over.”
She nodded. When he said scrub he’d meant scrub. He lathered the strong soap on a brush and scrubbed. It hurt, but he could have scrubbed much harder. She wondered how he restrained himself. He was the type that was quick to anger, but he didn’t react. It took a lot to hold back and there was much respect for a man who could do it.
Finally he rolled bandages around her feet. “You look worried, sweetness.”
She laughed and put her hand over her mouth to stop. “How can you call me sweetness after that?”
He chuckled and winced. Then he turned serious. “Because that’s what you are to me, sweetness and light. You gone through and seen the worst one person can do to another, yet you have a sweet giving spirit that draws me like a light on a stormy sea. You are very different from anyone I’ve ever known. I can see your strength, yet there is a bit of vulnerability to you. You remind me of all the sorrow, suffering, and shame my people live through, yet they are willing to fight another day. You are like a beautiful warrior ready to defend her people and country. But I’m just going on and on.”
She stared into his eyes, and for a moment she felt like the person he described. Her face heated, and she clasped and unclasped her hands.
“Oh I forgot I bought you something.” He reached out to the wagon bench and brought in a pair of moccasins. “This has nothing to do with Indians, all right? They are just supposed to be comfortable, and Swift Eagle suggested I get them for you.”
She took them and examined them, from the stitching to the pretty beading. “It’s one of the nicest gifts I’ve ever received. Perhaps my feet will heal after all. You are a kind man Heath Leary. Thank you.”
“You’re not going to cry again, are you?”
She shook her head as she wiped a few tears away.
“Good. Tonight we’ll both have rifles just in case they’ve somehow found you. I’ll cover the back while you cover the front. Do you still have your knife?”
She nodded and a shudder went through her. “We leave in the morning?”
“As early as possible. Extra food is being prepared today because we are not stopping tomorrow. Then our next hurdle is the three crossings.”
“What is that?”
“There are two ways we can go according to Captain London. We can go through days of sand or we can cross the river three times in one big crossing and avoid the dry sand. There are two islands so crossing from the bank to island one is one crossing and crossing from the island to the other island is two crossings and crossing from there to the opposite bank makes it three crossings. The islands are tiny so you hardly get going before you go to the next one. It’s supposed to save the oxen a lot of hard pulling. Some say it’s dangerous, but many have made it across.”
“The crossing sounds like the way we should go.”
“Do you swim, lass?”
“I sure do. Lincoln and I…” She picked up the booties again. “I’m a good swimmer.”
Chapter Five
Still about three hours remained until sunset, and Heath could feel trepidation throughout the camp. He’d left the wagon to stretch his legs and see if any of the plans had changed. He saw several people peeking out from their wagons. He bet the Cheyenne could see them too as their camp wasn’t very far away.
Harrison, Declan, Zander, and numerous other drovers each drove about five head of cattle to the three crossings and swam the animals
across. All that was left were the horses and the animals that pulled the wagons. Other men stood holding their rifles where they could be seen by the Cheyenne. The wagons were all packed and little by little the livestock were being moved closer to the circle.
The women had all the children inside the wagons as they put out their cooking fires. As soon as it was dark, the animals would be harnessed and the train would ride out with the men on horseback behind ready to fight if needed.
Swift Eagle had said it was unlikely they’d be pursued since there would be many more trains passing by.
“Same rascals were right past Independence Rock last year. We lost three head of cattle, and one man was injured. That Indian friend has sure been a big help to us.” Captain London drew on his pipe. “He sure has. My last pass through this area the Indians here were just trading. I had no problems with them. Of course they might not be the same ones.”
Finally it was dark, and Heath helped Cora with her oxen. Luella would ride with her ready to shoot her rifle. Then Heath yoked the oxen for the wagon Dawn was in. She lay low in the wagon with a rifle. Heath had his close at hand in the front.
Slowly they left the circle, one by one. Heath heard a commotion behind him. “Can you see what’s going on?”
“Three armed Cheyenne are speaking to Harrison and two other men. One, I think, is a scout. There’s a lot of pointing and talking.” She was quiet for a few minutes. “The Cheyenne rode back to their village. The fear of sickness seemed to have worked.”
“Whole families have been wiped out by the sickness we bring with us.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it and was punished for it.”
Heath almost jumped. She was sitting right behind him now and he’d never heard her move. “I think we should ask God for his continued protection.”
“Yes, I’ve been reading and praying a lot today. When it seems like no one else understands, God does.”
Heath nodded. “God is easy to talk to.”
They traveled in silence for the rest of the way. Heath had one ear cocked, listening for horses’ hooves or a gunshot. They had to go single file due to the narrowing of canyon. It was easy to imagine the Cheyenne standing at the top of the ridge ready to pick them off. Fortunately, all was well.
They arrived at the place where they would cross the Sweetwater River. They’d start crossing at first light. It was a long eerie night. It was almost as though he could hear Dawn holding her breath.
When the sun rose, Heath heard speculation about Dawn’s part in the whole thing. There was talk of tying her up again. When would people stop? He shook his head and rolled out from under the wagon. If he’d heard it, then so had Dawn. He glared at all who glanced his way. Why couldn’t they just stay with their wagons?
The signal to go was given and many had to hurry to their wagons. Didn’t they even see the danger? Dawn sat in the wagon with the rifle in her lap as she put together a few biscuits and bacon together for Heath to eat while they continued through. Somehow, she had cold coffee for him too. He smiled his thanks and jumped up into the front of the wagon ready to go.
The first wagon started across the three crossings. The water was strong and the oxen visibly fought to stay upright. It was slow going, and some drivers were impatient. One wagon driver yelled and whipped the oxen, and the next thing they knew the wagon tipped on its side and then it was gone, taken away by the river, oxen and all.
From behind him, Dawn gasped. “Was there anyone inside that wagon?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Between the livestock and guard duty, I haven’t had much time to socialize. I think he had a wife and a couple young ones. I just don’t understand.” Heath shook his head sadly. “You’d think people would listen to the captain.”
They heard crying, and many in the wagon party sounded fearful.
“Life is so unpredictable,” she said. “Out in the West, one wrong move can get you killed. I loved living in our settlement. There weren’t very many people and I liked it that way. It was my downfall, though. There weren’t enough people to help protect others.”
“Sometimes no matter what you do you can’t stop things from happening.” Heath thought of his heartbreak of having to leave his family behind. He knew he’d never see them again and he prayed that they didn’t suffer more than they already had. Neither he nor Declan had heard much about what was going on in Ireland. He just hoped that this year’s potato crop was successful. It had been two years in a row of the blight. How many had died? If he judged just by his county, it was at least a third.
“Ready?”
He turned his head for a moment and smiled at her. “Don’t you worry; I won’t ask you to show me how well you swim. If there is a problem, get as far away from the wagon as you can and use your knife to cut off your skirt. It will become too heavy with water and drown you.”
“We’ll be just fine.” Her smile of confidence made his heart swell. “Here we go.”
He concentrated on getting the oxen to the opposite bank, but he could picture her huddled behind him. Up the bank they went and across the island, down one bank and up another until they were almost there. The last bank was almost too muddy to get any traction, but they made it. He kept driving until he reached his brother and Zander, who were still waiting for Harrison to drive Luella and Cora over.
They were quickly joined by the other wagon and one of the scouts had Zander and Declan ride ahead making sure the livestock was still moving. There would be no resting. But that was fine as long as his family and friends were all right.
“How long do you think I need to stay in here?” Dawn asked.
“Until the captain says otherwise. You’re not missing much. The ground is soggy, but it’s better than deep sand. It looks like there will be plenty for the oxen to eat when we stop.”
“Why didn’t we stop when that wagon turned over? We all could have said a few words or perhaps someone should have ridden down along the bank to look for survivors.”
“From what I was told, no one survives that crossing if their wagon smashes to pieces. I guess the captain wanted everyone to keep going so we are farther away from the Cheyenne. I wish I had more answers for you.”
He watched a few of the women walking and the boggy ground sucked their shoes like mud. It made for hard going.
“What do you think will happen to me?”
“What do you mean?” he asked with a growing sense of unease.
“I’m getting stronger, and I know people have been talking about me. I figure the captain has plans to drop me off somewhere. When do we get to the next fort?”
Drop her off? Leave her somewhere? He’d heard nothing of the sort. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Is that what you want to do? I thought you changed your mind about trying to find a job at a fort.”
“It’s not as though I have many choices.” Dawn spread her hands in a rare show of helplessness. “Besides, Luella should be the one in this wagon with Declan driving. I have looked over the single men and none appeal to me. I may have to change my mind and take the first offer I get. Do you even think there will be offers?”
There would be offers, all right, but not the type she’d appreciate. He’d talk to the captain and see what he thought.
“It would have to be someone that can find me a place to sleep. I could walk most of the way.”
“I think for now staying with us will be best. We make you feel safe, don’t we? If you end up sleeping under a wagon I doubt you’ll sleep at all. It’s fine as things are, plus Declan and Luella seem to like their tent. Let’s just get your feet healed, and then we can talk to the captain and see what he suggests.” He wished he could have seen her expression. But he needed all of his concentration driving through the bog. It seemed like hours before they were told to stop.
* * *
Dawn needed something to do. If she could find some material she could make some clothes. She waited at the end of the wagon for the captain to decide if she could come ou
t or not. Sometimes she was so restless and to imagine just a bit ago she wished for time to rest. Her feet were bad, but the rest of her was healing. Her back didn’t hurt as bad as it had, and she hadn’t been burned with a lit stick either.
There was so much more to what had happened to her, but she’d never be able to speak of it. It haunted her though. She blamed herself so many times but really she had no power. She’d always want to know that she was allowed to have an opinion. Her mother had taught many of the children at the settlement. It wasn’t a formal education but she could read the classics as well as any. Her mind was quicker at figures than Lincoln’s had been. He’d finally learned to just tell her the numbers and she’d give him an answer.
She wasn’t what she’s call a beauty. Lincoln had thought so but she looked into the mirror and saw many of her flaws. Did all people do that? Now she didn’t want to know what she looked like. Hopefully bad enough no man would want to touch her.
She waited and waited and finally Harrison stopped to speak with her.
“The captain thinks it’s fine if you want to get out of the wagon. We are to all stay alert though.” He chuckled “Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on you.”
She smiled, and when he lifted his hands up she slowly stood, flinching as he lifted her to the ground. He then grabbed two crates and set them down. “One for you and one for your feet. I can only imagine how they must hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. Do you know where I might be able to get some fabric and sewing items? I can work to pay back the cost. It’s just so boring sitting all the time, and I’m good at sewing. I need some clothes.” Her face heated. Was she being too bold in asking?
“I’ll get my wife on it. She sews too. She’ll be heading over after she feeds Essie.”
“Thank you, Harrison. I appreciate your kindness.”
“I’ll see you later.”
She watched him walk toward his wagon. Everyone was gathering around a few of the men. They were all laughing, and they seemed excited.
Dawn’s Destiny: Romance on the Oregon Trail Book 3 Page 5