by Alden, Dana
Amanda was bewildered. Her brother was a successful storekeeper in Virginia City. She was an ex-millworker of unexceptional background emigrating to a new life in Montana Territory. Surely there was an explanation to that shoot-out that did not connect to them?
She thought of the last time she’d seen Samuel. She had been back to the farm for a Sunday dinner with her family; Samuel had shown up there unexpectedly. Watching through the window, Amanda had seen him arrive on a rented hack from town. He’d ridden with slumped shoulders and an equally slumped face. At the hitching ring on the side of the barn, he stopped the horse. After a moment, he wiped his face with his hands, squared his shoulders, and dismounted. By the time he entered the house, he was strutting like a rooster, proudly announcing his plan to head west to start a new life. He hoped to start his own store out where business was booming.
“I’m done working for someone else,” he’d said to her father and stepmother. Then he’d turned to Amanda. “And you should be too, Amanda. Don’t waste your life in the mill. Head out West—where there’s opportunity for anyone.”
Everyone had laughed at the idea of a young, unmarried woman heading West to make her fortunes on her own. Everyone, that is, but her.
* * *
Cal felt… awkward. That was the only way he could think to phrase it. Or maybe, uncomfortable. That worked, too. Here he was, leading a pretty, young woman alone into the mountains. At the moment, her breasts were pressed up against his back, and so was the side of her face. He was gripping her forearm carefully; he could tell from her slackened grip and slow, steady breathing that she was asleep again. The excitement of the shootout—and of getting shot—had quite worn her out.
Riding along the narrow deer trail with Amanda at his back was strangely nice. She sat behind the lip of the saddle, so her legs didn’t run along his, but her feet would gently kick into his calves and ankles sometimes. Her arms around his waist were warm and firm.
He didn’t know her. He didn’t know if she was telling the truth about herself and her stepbrother. But he was inclined to believe her. Smitty had traveled with her for a few weeks and had vouchsafed her, too. She was forthright and pretty, and she’d handled this whole situation calmly. And, quite simply, he just wanted to believe in her.
Cal admitted to himself that he’d felt more… feelings… than he would have expected to feel, seeing the blood from her side seeping through her fingers, and the pale, scared face that had looked from the wound and then up to his own face. This is why women shouldn’t travel alone, he’d thought. Once a man starts protecting something, or someone, he’s going to feel responsible.
He’d wanted to comfort her, protect her, hold her.
And that’s where the trouble had started.
He didn’t know what was going on, so he had to be on the lookout for anyone, anywhere. All he knew was that someone was after her, and for some reason. It was likely related to her stepbrother, which did not bode well for her future plans working alongside this Samuel.
And so, he thought he should probably keep this whole trip quiet; if some more men found out, her life might even be in jeopardy. Or at least her virtue. And if he and Smitty were wrong about the situation, and other people found out she’d traveled not just with a pack train of men alone, but then also with Cal—alone again, and in the middle of nowhere—her moral standing would be in question. Now, people were a whole lot more easygoing about those things out West, but it was still best not to poke the bear.
There were plenty of men who’d be interested in pretty Miss Amanda anyway, even the marrying kind of men, but Cal knew she’d be better off establishing herself on her own best terms. With or without her brother.
He had a pretty good reputation himself but knew he might lose it because of Miss Amanda. This misadventure was already perilously close to colliding with his own plans; he’d better start asking her more questions. Perhaps he could figure this out before they got to town and then he could hand her back to Smitty in good conscience.
Just then, his horse’s ears twitched forward and the mare raised her head. He pinned Amanda’s left arm more tightly under his own and pulled back on the reins with his left hand. At the same time, he grabbed his gun with his right hand.
Cal pulled up short when he saw a bear ahead, next to the trail, foraging. It was big and brown, dappled in the shadows of the spruce trees. The bear paused and lifted its huge head in their direction. It didn’t seem to be raising its hackles at the sight of them, but neither did it move on.
Amanda slept on. Here he was, trying to figure out how to help her, and she was just dozing away, no care about the dangers of the wilderness and no care either about what could happen to her when she got to town. Cal felt himself getting angry.
He’d provide Amanda with a reminder of the dangers of traveling the wilderness. Maybe she could begin to realize she wasn’t just inconveniencing the men around her. He tugged on Amanda’s arm and whispered her name. He hoped she didn’t scream or the bear might charge them.
Chapter 8
Amanda awoke with a start, jerking backward. Cal was glad he’d pinned her arm under his own. Before she could speak, he gave jerk of his head and whispered, “Look over there.”
She peeked over his shoulder and said, “Oh!” Her eyes were round. Cal waited to hear the fear in her voice. “A brown bear. He’s so big,” she whispered. He heard the awe in her voice, instead.
“See that big hump on his shoulders? That’s a grizzly.” That ought to help her realize the gravity of the situation.
“What’s he eating?” she asked almost under her breath.
Eating? So, she wasn’t scared at all.
“What’s he eating?” she whispered again.
“Huckleberries,” he said. Well, so much for scaring her. They stayed still and watched the bear nosing around the low bushes.
“I’ve heard of them. How do they taste?”
How do they taste? Clearly, the woman had no sense of the risks of being in the woods with wild animals. He was annoyed by this, but… he could hear and sense her appreciation for all the nature surrounding them. He felt it, too, shared in it. It made a change to share his love of this wilderness with a pretty woman. With this pretty woman.
“Delicious. A lot like blueberries.”
She was so close to him now, leaning in to see the bear more closely… so close, he could feel her nod against his shoulder and pick up the warmth of her face on his own skin. Cal knew they should move on, but he was taken by Amanda’s awe. His horses were not so taken, and Miss Molly shifted under them. Amanda gripped his sides with both arms, and whispered, “How do we know it won’t attack?”
He chuckled quietly, glad she had an ounce of sense. “The bear’s more interested in eating, but we won’t push our luck.” He knew there was another trail just over the ridge. He holstered his gun and turned his horse into the woods.
“You’re certain he won’t follow us?” Amanda whispered.
Cal grit his teeth. She didn’t know beans about these woods and bears. He’d been living in the area for a decade, but still, she doubted him.
“Yes. That bear was content with its berries. Just remember, back away from a bear quietly.” He reached out an arm to push a branch out of their way.
“Is that what I should do for all wild animals?”
Cal felt a wave of relief that Amanda was concerned about her own safety. And, perhaps, a little pride that she trusted him to advise her. “No. Yell real loud and wave your arms if you see a mountain lion.”
“That will scare it away?”
“Well, probably not. If you see the mountain lion, it’s probably too late anyway.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Amanda tightened her arms around his ribs. “How about a… a moose?”
“Miss Amanda, if you have a moose with his dander up, you had better get out of the way!”
* * *
; A few hours later, Cal stopped their two-horse pack train at a slight clearing in the trees. It was not open enough to be a meadow, but flat and not overly covered with brush and bushes.
“Already?” asked Amanda. “It’s still plenty light out.”
Cal twisted in the saddle to look her in the face.
“I know you want to get to your brother, but this spot’s clear… some grass for the animals, and there’s a creek just past those trees over there. It’s probably half seven and my animals need rest.”
Cal dismounted and offered his hand to Amanda. She gave a tentative smile as she took his hand and slid off the horse. She liked how Cal would answer all her questions even though he seemed annoyed some of the time. She was learning so much about how to live out there—like a mountain woman. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up at her silliness. To distract herself, she offered to gather firewood.
“No need for a fire.” Cal gave a sigh and began to unpack his horses. “We don’t want to draw attention. And we certainly don’t need the heat or light.”
Amanda didn’t want to think about the attention they didn’t want to attract. She began to untie the small bags off the horse. “I’m still not used to how late the light lasts out here. Even after the late sunsets.”
Cal took the satchel from her and carried it over to set under a tall lodgepole pine. “Only in summer.”
After unpacking, feeding and watering the horses, they sat on a fallen log to eat their own meal. With no fire to cook over, they ate hardtack and leftover cornbread Cal had tucked away.
“I wish we had some of those huckleberries,” said Amanda.
Cal nodded. “They’d be a good addition to dinner.”
They ate off their tin plates quietly for a few minutes. Then Cal spoke.
“So, what happened? Your brother didn’t send you enough money to get to Virginia City?” He didn’t sound too impressed by that thought.
Amanda didn’t want him to think badly of her stepbrother. “Oh, no! That’s not it at all. He’s been sending money to my father and stepmother for a while now, to pay back a loan from my father. But I…” She paused a moment, realizing how foolish she was going to sound. “I didn’t tell him I was coming.”
Cal raised his eyebrows at her.
“I should say, I sent him a letter, but then I left only a few days later. Of course, there was no time for him to respond. Nor, I admit, did I mind avoiding a possible no.”
Samuel could be carefree and flippant. Amanda knew he might tell her that despite telling her to head West, he hadn’t really meant it. Well, he’d had his opportunity to start over when he needed to, and she wanted hers. She thought of how she’d written to the mill owner, telling him about the unsafe practices at the mill that led to women getting injured, sometimes terribly. The only response she’d received was an angry grip on the shoulders from the foreman, a grip that left bruises. She’d known then that her time at the mill was coming to a rapid close.
She paused for a bite of cornbread and realized Cal was looking at her like she had two heads. She decided to change the subject. “I didn’t understand how different things were out here. Smaller and bigger.”
Cal watched her intently. He seemed genuinely interested in her assessment. “Smaller and bigger, Miss Amanda?”
“Well, the towns are so much smaller. Lowell, where I’ve been living these past few years, has more than 35,000 people it.”
Cal gasped. “Virginia City is the biggest city I’ve ever been in and it has ten thousand people or so. It is crazy and wild, and I can’t imagine something more than three times bigger.” He shook his head at the wonder of it.
Amanda leaned forward, smiling. “I know what you mean. I’ve been to Boston, twice, and they say it has more than 150,000 people!” She nodded in agreement when Cal gave a low whistle.
“But out here, if I even see a town, it’s so tiny. Scores of people, maybe hundreds, but not tens of thousands. Yet, the land is so much bigger. The mountains are bigger. The rivers are bigger. The flatlands—the prairies—are bigger. Even the spaces between them all are bigger!” She reached over to take his plate, inadvertently brushing his fingers lightly with hers. With a slight blush, she stood.
“It’s spectacular. Sublime,” she said, looking around. “But not, I now realize, a place to come poorly prepared.” She turned to take the plates to the creek to rinse. She might as well blush again. “That’s why you’re so fascinating. So self-sufficient and capable, alone in the mountains.”
Amanda tucked her head down as she knelt on the rocks at the side of the creek. She rubbed the two plates with the river gravel and hoped Cal, leaning against a tree nearby, wasn’t paying attention to her. She knew she was being a bit forward, but not until she said it aloud did she realize how much. She snuck a look and realized he was scanning the treeline. Instead of being relieved, she felt let down. Well, perhaps she wasn’t so interesting to him if he hadn’t even noticed what she’d said. That bothered her more than she would have expected. She was feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and disappointment.
She shook the crumbs off the napkin that had wrapped the cornbread and used it to dry the plates, subdued. She stood, and then headed back to their camp. Cal walked up beside her.
“I’ve another question for you if you don’t mind.”
She was so glad he didn’t bring up her last statement that she rushed to say, “Not at all.” What was it about this man that made her so inclined to spill her beans?
“How come you’re so good with wounds? Not many women are so calm about getting shot and then dressing the wound after. Not Yankee city girls, especially.”
“Do you know many Yankee city girls?” she laughed.
He smiled and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Not so many.”
Amanda handed the plates to Cal so that he could pack them. She chose a downed tree trunk to sit on, looking west through the trees at the setting sun.
“I grew up on a farm, with lots of animals and some brothers and sisters. That was the start of it. Just helping out and learning from my mother and father.” Cal sat down on the ground opposite her, resting his arms on his raised knees. He alternated watching her with scanning the woods and animals. “Later, I went to work in a mill in Lowell. We were making fabric on big machine looms. It wasn’t uncommon for a girl to get a cut, or a rope burn from the machines. So I became known for helping with small wounds.”
She looked down at her clasped hands but soon saw only the mill. “And sometimes, there were big accidents or fires. I helped until a doctor could be fetched. Or a priest.” She fell silent.
Amanda looked up to see Cal watching her with a crease between his eyes. He was concerned. “And these were all women working in this mill?”
Oh, dear, she thought. He’s one of those, then, concerned only about the jobs the men didn’t get to have!
“The men weren’t there. They’d all gone off to the war,” she said carefully.
“No, I get that. I just wondered about having all the women working in such an unsafe place. I guess I understand a little better why you weren’t so scared to come out here. If you take the shooters and the bears out of it, it’s much safer here.” Cal grinned at her. There was even a hint of admiration in his expression.
Amanda was flabbergasted. He did get it! At least, a big part of it.
“Yes! At least here, the danger won’t be for someone else’s profit. Well, mostly…” She thought about the ambush earlier and what the men had wanted her for.
Cal nodded. “You’re going to fit in fine if you choose to.”
Amanda smiled. After the many ‘are you crazy?’ comments and all the looks she’d received since she’d announced and started this journey, it sure felt good to be getting some approval at last.
“Did you fight in the War?” she asked.
She felt bold putting the question out there and could scarcely believe she’d said it. The farther west she traveled, the more people
didn’t want to even talk about it.
“No, I didn’t.” Cal watched her and she suspected he was gauging how much to tell her. “I was deep in the backcountry for a number of months. I didn’t even know there was a war until it was five months gone on.”
He swept his arm out, encompassing the mountains around them. “I’ve been out here for ten years, Miss Amanda,” he said. “Been here since it was Oregon Territory, then Washington Territory, then Idaho Territory. Now it’s Montana Territory. They keep changing the lines and the names, but it’s all the same to me; it’s my home. And I don’t feel any connection to Missouri, where I was born, or really anything back East.”
He took a deep breath. “But in the end, what decided me was that I had some brothers fighting for one side, and cousins for the other, and I couldn’t bear the idea of shooting at any one of them, Miss.”
Amanda wasn’t sure how to respond, but Cal prevented the need. He rolled up off the ground in a smooth move. “That war, thankfully, is over.”
Cal held out his hand to Amanda. It was warm and calloused. “Let’s get ready for sleep. I’d like us to get up and moving early tomorrow.” He pulled her gently to a standing position. After a moment, he released her hand and turned to pull bedrolls from a pack.
* * *
Cal woke Amanda at sunrise. The sun had not yet risen over the mountains, but the sky to the east was pink and the stars above were fading. The air was cool and crisp.
He gave Amanda a drink of water, offered her a moment of privacy, then hustled her onto the horse.
They’d pushed hard yesterday, but he could only do so much when his horse was hauling two. He didn’t want to founder Miss Molly. Amanda had held up well the day before and hadn’t complained, even when he could see she was flagging. Crossing the country was hard, most certainly, but a slow and steady pack train across the plains was not the same as a fast-paced ride through the mountains with a gunshot wound.