Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She remembered that night fondly; the warm wax poured gently on her breasts, belly, and her… as Angus called it, her pussy. Clara rubbed her thighs, brushing her clit lightly, seeking momentary relief.
“Did that little rub help ease you or make it worse, girl?” Angus pressed the hard plane of his thigh against her mound.
Moaning deep in her throat, Clara ground herself against him. “I think it made it worse.”
“Maybe it’s time to make you caterwaul, girl.” He put pressure on the small of her back with the flat of his hand. “But not now, Minnie and Silas are walking toward us.”
Silas ran his hand over his mouth to hide his grin. “So did we interrupt something over here. Are you two… busy?”
Clara couldn’t even look Silas in the eye—or Minnie for that matter—for fear they’d see her arousal or the blush on her cheeks.
Angus smirked back at the man before responding amiably. “No, not at all. But I wanted to ask you what happened last night.” He paused, the corner of his mouth kicking up a bit. “There was rattlin’ of chains and… well, just a commotion.”
Silas nodded his head slowly, silently acknowledging Angus’s dig. “I reckon it was a coyote or something. I don’t believe I heard a thing. Must’ve slept right through it.” Silas flung his long curly brown hair over his shoulder to look at Minnie. “Did you hear anything last night, darlin’?”
Minnie blushed from her collarbone clear to her forehead and Clara felt sorry for her. The men were obviously having fun at her expense. “N-no, I didn’t hear a thing.” She looked at Clara, her eyes pleading for assistance.
“Why don’t you men start hitching the wagons? It won’t take us long to finish gathering the breakfast things. Besides, I don’t believe Minnie’s had anything to eat yet. Come along, Minnie.” Clara swatted the air. “You men, shoo, shoo!”
Angus and Silas walked off, both of them laughing and slapping each other on the back, while Clara filled a plate with corn mush and bread dipped in bacon grease.
Minnie sighed loudly. “I would never have thought I would become weary of bacon, but having it twice a day for months now… I just wish we could eat something different. I miss eggs.”
Clara nodded. “Me too. It won’t be long until you’ll be in Green River with Silas’s family, and you’ll have all the eggs you could wish for, and I’ll ask Angus to get some for us too when we drop you off. I long for them myself.”
It had been a long journey, and they’d be in Oregon before they knew it. After Wyoming, they still had to cross the Green River and Sublette-Greenwood Cutoff before they’d enter Idaho, then finally ending in Oregon. Difficult to believe when she and the girls had started this past spring that her life would take a turn from marrying a stranger to marrying Angus, and instead of living in Independence Rock, Wyoming Territory she’d be living in Oregon State with Angus.
Angus had promised that they’d go back to Missouri to live if that’s what she wanted. By the time they would arrive in Oregon, the Union Pacific Railroad would be almost finished to the East Coast. They would be able to take a train back. It’d be quicker and safer. Clara just couldn’t think about all of that now. One day at a time was all she could do for now.
Chapter 4
Angus trotted with his horse, passing each wagon and walking pioneer to ensure everyone was okay and nothing was amiss. He took special note of the children walking; Nellie didn’t even seem to notice that he’d ridden by, laughing and playing with her friends. It appeared that something had transformed today. Breathing a sigh of relief, Clara would be as relieved as he was upon hearing this news. Not far away, Rose walked with her friends picking up buffalo chips, putting them into a basket for the fire for dinner. Angus looked forward to arriving in areas with an abundance of trees; he missed the scent of a pine tree fire versus buffalo dung.
He gave a loud whistle. “We’ll be camping just up ahead for the night.” Just around the bend, there was a flat area and with a stream nearby, so the oxen and cattle would be able to be watered. The men and boys took care of the livestock while the women started a fire and cooking along with their cook, Sam. Angus relied on Sam to assist with many of the chores on the journey; they took turns watching for Indians at night; Sam prepared their meals, and when necessary, Sam covered for Angus as wagon master.
There were only six covered wagons heading west now, an easier lot to handle—not as much chaos. In the beginning, there were dozens of wagons; most of the pioneers didn’t have any idea how to function for extended periods of time outdoors or as a team. That’s where Angus came in; he naturally knew how to bring people together, finding their strengths and weaknesses, so their caravan functioned like a well-oiled wheel.
By this point of the journey, everyone knew their roles, how to line up the wagons, and what their roles were in setting up camp for the night.
Angus pushed his worn, black hat back over his sweat-covered brow, crossing his hands over his saddle horn, watching the hustle and bustle around him. He’d been given a varied group of people; this time, his women the most fiery of all his Widow Wagons. He shook his head chuckling to himself, but he’d miss these women and men, being out on the plains like this—watching babies being born, sickness, and death occur, people clinging to those around them. Being wagon master for a handful of trips now had turned out to be a blessing to Angus.
* * *
“Angus! Angus!” Sam peeped his head through the opening in the back of Angus’s wagon. “Sorry, ma’am. Angus, the cattle, and oxen, they’ve gotten away. I’ve been waking up the other men. Hurry!”
Sam disappeared before Angus could ask any further questions. It was too early in the morning; it was pitch dark out. He grabbed his pants, walking bent over to the peep hole at the back of the covered wagon.
“Where’s Nellie? Oh my God, Angus, Nellie isn’t here!” Clara’s voice shrieked.
Nellie’s small, timid voice could be heard outside the wagon. “I’m out here, Ma.”
“What in tarnation are ya doing outside, girl?” Angus jumped down to the ground, still in only his long johns, his primary concern the misbehaving child in front of him.
Sam looked around uncomfortably at the women and children, whispering. “Put your pants on Angus, and I’ll explain.”
“Excuse me, ladies. I forgot myself.” He quickly put his legs into the openings, jerking them up, fastening the belt. “Somebody better tell me what’s going on, and why these damn children are all up at this hour of the night.” Angus reached into the pocket of his pants, opening his pocket watch. “At twelve-twenty in the morning.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Well, as you know, I was supposed to be watching things. I guess I fell asleep. Next thing I know, Ben over here,” Sam pointed at a lean and lanky twelve-year-old boy, “He woke me up and said that they’d untied all the cattle and oxen, and now they’s gone, Angus. We gotta get them, in a hurry.”
“It’s pretty flat land out here; we could watch them run away for days. I don’t see us having too much trouble getting them on horseback. First, I want to know who was involved in this little escapade and, second, why?” Angus put his hands on his hips staring at the children who were all staring at their feet, some already sniffling with tears.
When nobody answered, Angus spoke sharply with a stern, rigid edge to his voice. “I want you to raise your hand if you were involved in this. No lying!”
Slowly, hands started to raise—boys and girls alike—including his daughter, Nellie. He narrowed his gaze at her, shaking his head. He looked at the fathers in the crowd, most of them had jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed in anger and frustration. The days were long enough without having to drag livestock back to the site and wake up in a couple of hours for a new day beginning.
“Ben, since you appear to be the oldest, can you tell me why you kids thought this made sense?” Angus enjoyed Ben; his family was of good stock. His father, Patrick, was a hard worker and
someone who could be relied upon. The boy had blonde hair, the color of wheat, with piercing blue eyes and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He had hit that age where he seemed uncomfortable with his long arms and legs, walking in an almost awkward fashion, getting used to his new height.
Giving a scant glance over his shoulder at his father first, he proceeded to talk. “Well, we...I heard that when cows are sleeping, that if you push on them, they just fall over. We wanted to try it and see if it was true, but we didn’t want them choking because they were tied up, so we untied them first… we didn’t want them hurt.”
“Right kind of ya, son.” Angus was pretty sure the boy didn’t catch the sarcasm lacing his response.
“Thank ya, Sir. So, we untied them real slow and quiet and then we tried doing it.” Ben looked around at his friends waiting for support of any kind.
“Did you get to tip any, boy?” Angus’s deep voice rumbled over everyone, the silence eerie in the night.
“No, sir. Most of them were lying down, and the ones that weren’t startled and ran, causing the others to run too. That’s when we knew we were in trouble and had to get help. We’re real sorry.” Ben’s voice broke on the last couple words; swiping at tears tracking down his cheeks, he dropped his gaze to the ground again.
“Not yet, but you will be.” Patrick, Ben’s father, growled.
“I agree, Patrick. We have to track down the livestock and clean up this mess y’all started, but you’ll pay for it later. Trust me. Until then, you’re to sit on the ground.” He waited until everyone’s bottoms hit the ground before continuing. “I want you to think about what you’ve done and the trouble you’ve caused. We’ll deal with you when we return. Come along men.”
Angus and the men had found most of the cattle; only a couple were missing. He had walked back to the wagon, finding the culprits still sitting where he’d left them. They separated them—boys on one side of the wagon, girls on the other side, each of them to be punished by their fathers.
Angus returned to his wagon with Nellie clinging to him, her legs wrapped around his waist. The poor girl was sobbing uncontrollably. It damn near broke his heart to punish her, but he didn’t have a choice when all the other parents were and he, as the wagon master, had to set an example. Backing down or out wasn’t an option, but her little sobs tore his heart apart. And it would serve as an example of what happens when you interfere with the livestock. They would be lost without the oxen and cattle; their very survival depended on them. It had to be done.
Angus handed Nellie’s mother her drawers, not making her put them back on. He rocked her on his lap, keeping her bottom from touching the rough denim of his jeans.
“I’m s-so sorry, Pa. I won’t do it ever again.”
Angus kissed her gently on the forehead. “I know, baby.” Brushing her hair off her sweaty, tear-stained face, looking up at Clara who had tears in her eyes.
“When did she start calling you Pa?” She put her hand over her trembling lip.
“During the punishment. Damn near broke my heart. Not sure I deserve that title today.” Angus cleared his throat, fighting against the lump signaling his tears.
“Obviously she feels different. In her mind, you probably became more of a father today than you ever have. Fathers don’t always do the fun things, they guide and direct their little lives. You did that today.” Clara rubbed his shoulder, kissing him lightly on the cheek before bending to kiss her own daughter’s face.
Nellie made eye contact with both of them, before saying, “I just wanted to have them like me. I wanted to be p-part of them, and I did it. Not sure it was worth the s-switchin’, but I got friends now.” The little blonde smiled weakly at them, brushing her tears away.
“Next time, check with me first, so I can tell you if it’s something that’ll be a detriment to your backside. I don’t ever want to have to do that again—to you or Rose.” Angus raised his eyebrows at her. “Deal?”
“Yes, Pa.” Nellie ran her small hand down the side of his face before leaning in to kiss his cheek.
“I sure like hearing you call me that, Miss Nellie.” He squeezed her tightly, silently thanking God for the family He’d given him. Angus never thought he’d be happy again after losing his wife and two little girls, and now God had sent him another family to love. They’d never replace his first loves, but it sure eased the pain.
Chapter 5
No amount of warning could have prepared Minnie for crossing the Green River, although they used ferries and rafts for the livestock and wagons, the raging water tossing to and fro had everyone white knuckled and breathless by the time they arrived at the shore.
Stepping from the raft into the water, she almost fell, stumbling forward until Angus grabbed her, preventing her from getting drenched in the shallow water.
“Easy, girl. You aren’t the only woman to feels like fainting when they arrive at the shore; this is common. Sit over here with the other women.” He sat her on a log next to Margie, Clara, and Lizzie.
Minnie gasped again, her breath hitching, she felt like she’d need smelling salts, and for the hundredth time since she left on this journey, she wondered what made her think that moving west would be an adventure. She’d watched women and children die, seen Indians and the savage massacres, she had been kidnapped, almost lost her virtue, and now married. It’d be a damn shame to die of fright—or anything else—just a few miles from her destination.
It seemed that life had an odd sense of humor. People worked and strove for a special celebration or event in their lives only to die right before they could receive the blessing. She sent a quick prayer to heaven, asking for the blessing of arrival to her new home with her husband at her side. It couldn’t hurt to ask for guidance and help.
Silas sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms. “You okay, Minnie?”
“Yes.” She tucked her head into his chest, taking a deep breath. She loved the smell of him—horses, leather, and man. “I thought I’d die from fright before we made it to shore. If any of us fell off the raft, you’d never get us back.”
“But you didn’t fall off, and you need not think like that. We have to cross this river another couple times before we get to our home.”
“Whhaaa?” Minnie pulled back, searching his eyes for humor, but seeing none there; her heart dropped in her chest. Could she do this again… a couple more times? She wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry, baby. But know—without any doubt—I would not let you just fall in. I watch you closer than that and will keep you safe.”
Minnie nodded at him, burying her head into his chest again.
“God, I hope so. I hope so.”
“Is she all right, Silas?” Angus’s deep voice was behind her, but she didn’t move to make eye contact.
“She’ll be fine, just a little shaken up from the ride, but no more than is normal, I’m sure.”
The jangling of Angus’s spurs moving to her left had Minnie peeping to watch him pass by. “You girls okay over here?”
“Yes, Angus,” the women murmured.
Raising his voice, Angus addressed them all, “We’ll let you all rest, including the livestock, before we continue getting to our campsite before dusk.”
Minnie only had two more days with these beautiful people before they’d arrive in Green River, Wyoming. Her new hometown. Silas seemed to have no doubt that his parents would love her, but Minnie wasn’t so sure. She knew she was trouble most days, and although Silas said his father liked fiery women, said they made life “more enjoyable.” Would he feel that way when they were living near them and dealing with her daily?
His mother apparently originally from Boston, was cultured and had an appreciation for manners and one who knew how to comport herself in society. Silas said that Minnie would be exactly what she expected for her son. And typically, Minnie did know how to behave, but there were days that she conducted herself in a less than desirable manner. How would Mrs. Stone feel then?
“What are you thinking about, Minnie?” Silas pried her fisted fingers from his shirt. “And don’t you say nothing. You have yourself tied into knots.”
Should I tell him? I’m afraid his parents will be mean, and they’ll hate me because I’m not what they expected.
Minnie sighed loudly. “I’m just… what if… I want your parents to like me. But what if I do something foolish and make them angry? I… I just don’t want to ruin this, Silas.”
Silas tipped her chin up, his eye twinkling, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “If you could see the hell that my brothers and I wrought in that house as kids, you wouldn’t even be worried. Hell, when we get together for Christmas we still cause chaos. My mother will be delighted to have a daughter in the house. She won’t feel so outnumbered.”
“I hope so.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat, tears threatening.
“I know so. I also know you can’t help worrying, but I’m not catering to whining about this. You’re to think positive and shake it off when it runs through your mind. It’ll be okay. Trust me.”
He abruptly stood, taking her with him. “We better get the wagon hitched and our things together before Angus starts hollerin’.”
* * *
Silas woke up before Minnie. Today they’d say goodbye to the Widow Wagon, and they would finally be back at his home. He had no idea when he left on assignment agreeing to be an undercover renegade to capture Kane and Red that he’d also meet his wife. As a US Marshall, he loved the chase, the thrill of capturing outlaws and criminals, loved the fight, wrestling to subdue them, holding them still on the ground and handcuffing them. The conquer. Controlling a captive, someone who’s very existence relied upon his mercy.
He brushed his knuckles down the side of his lovely wife—his sleeping wife—who at any other time of the day had nothing but devilish mischief on the forefront of her mind. She didn’t always seek trouble, sometimes it found her, but other times she schemed and finagled to orchestrate it.
The Renegade's Captive (The Widow Wagon Book 4) Page 3