by Jodi Thomas
“If you can’t convince them you’re meaner and bigger, all you have to do is act crazy. Anyone with sense is afraid of crazy. Remember, anything can be a weapon.”
Number Five crawled up in his lap and went to sleep, but the others listened and asked questions. They were little girls, too young to have to know all he said. But someday maybe they’d remember how to fight, and what he was teaching them might save their lives.
Chapter 7
The moon was only a sliver in the midnight sky when One and Two took over the watch. Trapper planned to stay awake, but he dozed, knowing they’d wake him if so much as a twig snapped.
Two hours later Emery took over the watch.
Trapper tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t with her so near. They’d been little more than polite strangers for two days. He couldn’t make himself wish he hadn’t seen her almost bare, but he did wish they could go back to being close. He liked looking forward to her light kiss on his cheek, and the way she leaned close to whisper something. He liked watching her and seeing her smile when she caught him doing just that.
After a while he sat up and looked at her across a dying fire. “You going to talk to me ever again?”
“I talked to you today.” She didn’t look at him.
“Pass the bread. Tell Number Five to wash her hands. Do you want the last of the coffee?”
When she didn’t comment, he added, “All that isn’t talking, Emery.”
She didn’t argue. She wasn’t even looking at him.
He tried again in a low voice. “I can’t figure out what I did wrong. I didn’t cause the rain or the storm. I didn’t take off your clothes or tell you to come out to help. I couldn’t act like I didn’t see something so beautiful.”
She was silent for a while, then she answered. “You are right. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t think. It’s all my fault.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry, but you have to understand, it’s hard to talk to someone who has seen me like that. I’m embarrassed.”
“You have nothing to be mad or embarrassed about. You were just trying to help.” He stood and moved to her side of the fire. He sat a foot away from her. “So we’re friends again?”
She nodded.
“And you’ll kiss me on the cheek when we say good night.”
Emery leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I was never mad at you. I was mad at myself.”
Trapper smiled. “Next time you’re upset with yourself, would you mind telling me so I can get out of the way while you’re beating yourself up?”
She laughed.
“And now that we’re talking again, I need to remind you you’re two kisses behind.”
She leaned near and kissed his cheek, lingering a moment longer this time.
“That’s one,” he whispered.
He met her halfway when she leaned near again, and this time his lips met hers.
He knew she felt the spark between them as much as he did. Trapper raised his hand and lightly brushed the back of her hair as he held her in place. Her kiss was soft and he didn’t want it to end.
Slowly, he learned the feel of her lips. When he ran his tongue over her bottom lip to taste, she shivered.
He put his arm around her and pulled her gently into his lap; he wanted her closer. When he opened her mouth slightly to deepen the kiss, he feared she’d pull away, but she didn’t. She put her hands on his shoulders and drifted into the pleasure with him.
His hand rested at her waist as she moved her fingers into his hair. “I like touching you,” she whispered against his ear.
He wasn’t sure he could form words. He just held her and kissed his way across her face.
A thump came from the wagon, and Number Five climbed out. “I have to go take care of private things,” the four-year-old mumbled as she tried to climb down.
Emery was gone from his arms in a moment and caught the little girl in flight.
“I’ll take her to the other side of the wagon.”
Trapper felt the loss of Emery in his arms. “I’m getting a chamber pot at the trading post.”
He heard Emery’s laughter from somewhere in the darkness.
When Number Five came back, she walked past the step up to the wagon and went straight to Trapper. Without a word, she curled up in his lap and went to sleep.
Emery stood in front of him. “It appears I’ve lost my spot.”
“Any time I’m open, you’re welcome to come on in. I loved holding you. For a few minutes I had heaven in my arms.”
She winked. “I felt like that too.”
Before she could say more, Number Four poked her head out of the wagon.
Emery lifted down the chubby angel, and without a word they went behind the wagon.
When she returned, Emery climbed up and tucked Four in, then reached out to take a sleeping Five. “Tomorrow,” she whispered.
“Tomorrow,” he answered, thinking a kind of happiness he’d never known had just slammed into his heart.
Trapper stayed wide awake. He knew trouble was coming. He could feel it in his bones. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed awake during the war. Only this time he wouldn’t be able to run. He had five little girls to worry about, and one little widow. They couldn’t disappear up a tree or roll in mud to become part of the land.
This time he might have to stand and fight.
And he would. He’d do whatever he had to do to keep them safe, even if it meant his life.
Chapter 8
They reached the trading post at about noon. The settlement was bigger than Emery had thought it would be. The stage line had opened a route a few months ago, but it wasn’t dependable.
Em shuddered at the thought that if Trapper hadn’t taken her with him, her father would have found her. He’d beat her, but not so hard that she couldn’t go back to work.
She had enough money in the Bible to buy a ticket on the paddleboat, but it would have been hours before it was loaded. Years ago he’d beat her oldest sister for talking to a boy. Her sister had run away as soon as she recovered with that same boy. They were already married by the time her father found them.
Emery forced a smile. No thinking of the past. From now on she’d only look forward. This was a new world, wild and beautiful, she thought as she looked around. Even if Trapper moved on after they reached Dallas, he’d taught her there were men worth knowing.
Across from the trading post, someone had built a small bar furnished with barrels and boards stacked atop. There were a few tables for the stage customers to grab a meal under the overhang of the roof. Em could almost see the beginnings of a town that looked like a good wind would blow it away.
Trapper tied the team in front of the store and began helping each girl down. Number Five had lost a shoe again, but she didn’t want to wait. She promised she’d just hop around the store.
Emery was as excited as the girls. She wanted to buy them all ribbons for their hair. She needed a proper gown to sleep in, and if the material wasn’t too expensive, enough cloth for a proper dress. She pulled out three dollars from the Bible hidden away in her leather bag.
If the weather held, Trapper had told her, they had eight, maybe nine days of travel left. When he’d asked her if she needed any more supplies, Emery had given him a list of baking goods.
The little girls had pulled out little change purses. They weren’t any bigger than her fist, but each had flowers embroidered on them. “We have money left over from our monthly allowances,” Number One announced. “Is it all right if we buy candy, Mrs. Adams?”
Em loved that they asked her. “If you only buy what will fit in your bag.”
When they walked in, all the girls stopped to stare. The rough, wooden building of logs with bark left on was filled with wonders. Hats made out of animal hides, bolts of material stacked high, rugs, guns, and knives beside pots and pans. Books, candy, and wood carvings of birds. Anything you could thin
k of to buy was on display.
As near as Emery could tell, no one was in the store except an old man sleeping at his desk with a half-empty whiskey bottle beside him.
“Morning.” Trapper woke the old guy. “Mind if me and my family look around.”
“Nope. You’re the first folks I’ve seen today.” His words were straight, but his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing on anything but his nose. “Wake me up when you’re ready to check out.” His head hit the desk so hard it rattled the whiskey bottle.
Trapper wandered off with his list in hand, and Emery moved to the material. She was deep in thought, trying to picture a dress made from each bolt, when Number Three and Four moved close to her.
“Mrs. Adams,” Number Three whispered. Her hat hid her eyes from view. “May I buy a pair of Levi’s and a flannel shirt? I got the money.”
“Why, Eliza?” Emery asked. “Wouldn’t you rather buy something pretty?”
She shook her head. “It’d make it easier to ride. I like riding just like Two does but it’s not easy in a dress. When we met the Millers, the mom thought I was a boy in a dress when my hat got knocked off. I can’t do anything about my hair, but I thought if I put on pants and a shirt, I wouldn’t have to wear the hat all the time. I don’t care if folks think I’m a boy.”
Four pushed closer. “If she does, I want to get them too.”
Emery thought of the terrible sack of a dress her mother had made her wear so no one would see her as a woman. In truth, Levi’s and a shirt made much more sense on this journey.
“I don’t mind at all.”
Thirty minutes later Emery met Trapper at the counter with her material, ribbons, and a simple white nightgown. She feared she was spending money she’d need to get by in Dallas.
Trapper had collected all the supplies and a chamber pot.
He’d also bought Number One a pair of leather gloves for when she drove the team and Emery a sensible pair of boots. Ladylike, but practical.
He wanted to make sure Number Five now had a new bonnet; she’d lost hers on the second day out. Number Four had a leather bag to keep her rocks in.
Two would have her own fishing pole and Three would have a book to read because she’d told them she loved books.
“You’re a pushover.” Emery laughed, brushing his arm.
“I’ve never had anyone to buy anything for. It was fun.”
When Trapper reached to shake the old man awake, Emery stopped him with a touch. She glanced around and saw there was no one around, then stood on her toes and kissed him on the mouth.
Trapper’s blue eyes darkened when she pulled back.
“Why’d you do that?”
“I didn’t want to wait all day to kiss you.” She stared in his eyes. They both knew there was no time for more. No place they could be alone. But she saw what she’d hoped to see in his face. He felt the same way she did.
“One day, Emery.”
“One day, Trapper.”
The unspoken promise passed between them.
The old man lifted his head and looked at them as if he’d never seen them before. Trapper moved a respectable distance away from her.
“Where are the kids?” He looked around.
“They are changing. I told Two she could wear pants if she wanted to.”
About that time she heard the tap of boots moving their way. As they moved out from behind the bolts of material, Emery smiled as five little princesses dressed in Levi’s and flannel shirts stood before her. Each had on boots almost to their knees and wide hats like Trapper wore. Their shirts were dusty red and sagebrush green and their smiles were pure sunshine.
Except for a few braids hanging down, she could have sworn she was looking at boys. Number One swung a rain slicker over her shoulder and Two, Three, and Four did the same. Five tried but her jacket flew behind her.
Trapper cleared his throat. “Whose idea was this?”
Emery looked at the girls “It was Eliza, I mean Three, and mine. If someone is looking for a wagon filled with little girls, they won’t find them.
“I needed a vest too,” Number One commented.
Four giggled and added, “She’s starting to bud.”
Trapper looked like he had no idea what they were talking about.
Number One moved forward as she changed the subject. “I saw a corral full of horses when we came in. If we can buy a few, Two, Three, and I can take turns riding beside the wagon. We’d have a wider view of the surroundings.”
All looked at Trapper. If he didn’t like the idea, they’d all be heading back to change clothes.
“It is a brilliant idea,” he said, smiling, “but I don’t know if I can afford all this.”
One ended his worries. “We’ve got enough to pay for the clothes and the horses.”
“They’ll cost you ten dollars a head,” the drunk behind the counter finally joined in.
One turned directly to him. “That’s outrageous, but I’ll pay your price providing I pick the horses.”
The drunk raised an eyebrow but finally nodded. “You do that, little girl.”
As they headed out, Emery heard Trapper ask One how come they had so much money in those tiny purses.”
She said simply, “The colonel doesn’t want his daughters to ever go without what they need.”
Trapper looked over at Four and Five, carrying two cornhusk dolls each. “I see some of the needs are questionable.”
“No, sir.” One smiled. “They needed them.”
Trapper scratched his head. “You know, One, someday you are going to run the world.”
“No, sir. I’m going to run the Rolling C Ranch.”
Trapper looked at Emery and whispered, “I have no doubt she will.”
Chapter 9
Trapper walked out of the trading post fully aware that the girls were imitating every move he made. They took long steps. Stuck their thumbs in their waistbands. Lifted their hats forward to shade their eyes.
He leaned close to Emery. “I have my army.” He grinned. “They may be small, but I wouldn’t trade them for gunslingers.”
When they got to the wagon, each one insisted on swinging their now-free legs into the wagon. Five tried twice and almost made it the second time before she fell back into Trapper’s waiting arms.
He tossed her inside, then touched two fingers to his hat in a salute. Number Five smiled and did the same. “Thanks, Tapper.”
When Number Three climbed in, her short, auburn hair was now free of the ugly wool cap. “I started something, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“What do you think the colonel will say about this? Your father’s bound to notice.”
“I doubt it. He doesn’t spend much time with us. Now and then he looks like he’s counting us, as if to make sure we’re all there or maybe he forgets how many daughters he has.”
“He remembers the number and each of you. He’s probably just making sure you’re all there.” Trapper had no doubt he’d counted to five a thousand times already.
He moved the wagon near the corral, and everyone seemed to have an opinion about which horses they should buy. Most looked worthless. Five wanted only white ones and Four wanted all the ones that looked like they were wearing socks.
One, Two, and Three climbed over the fence, laughing at how easy it was to do in Levi’s. They walked among the horses and chose three.
Trapper joined them and checked each horse’s teeth, legs, and eyes. He ran his hand from mane to tail and back again.
Each girl did the same.
“Pick your own mount, ladies. You’ll be the one taking care of them.”
Once they’d picked, Trapper took the time to show each girl how to saddle her horse. None of the mares were as big or would be as fast as his Midnight, but Trapper figured they’d do.
While the girls rode their horses around the corral, Trapper noticed the old drunk from the trading post was finally out in the sun.
“You
picked my three best horses. Damn it.”
“I didn’t, they did,” Trapper answered.
“I didn’t sell you the saddles. You just going to take them? They are worth as much as the horses.”
“I’ll give you a twenty for the three.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Twenty. The girls can ride bareback to the next trading post if you don’t take the price.”
“Damn. You’re as tough to trade with as your daughter, mister.”
Trapper didn’t correct the old goat.
A few minutes later he told One to drive the wagon, and he rode ahead with Two and Three traveling beside him.
They were not as skilled as Number One at riding, but both could handle their mounts. As the miles passed, he told them how to watch for trouble. How to move leaving fewest footprints on the land. He said they had to feel trouble in their gut before their brains.
As the day aged, he traded places with One and let her ride with her sisters. The only rule was to stay in sight of the wagon, and the three ladies pushed that limit to the edge.
Before sundown they camped.
Emery and the two little ones made biscuits that looked like rabbits as Trapper made sure the older three took proper care of their horses. When he came back to camp, he whispered to Emery that he’d seen Number Three smile twice that day.
The old wool hat was retired to become the cornhusk dolls’ bed.
After supper all the little ladies turned in. Trapper said he’d wake up One at midnight so he could sleep for a few hours.
She nodded. He swore she’d matured these last two weeks. No bedtime stories or songs tonight; the girls were all tired.
Trapper kept the fire low even though the wind was kicking up from the north. He figured if the four riders were looking for them, they would have already been traveling back. Once they passed the trading post, it wouldn’t take long for them to catch up.
Maybe not tonight, but Trapper guessed he’d be seeing them sometime tomorrow. Of course, it was just as likely that the men were simply riding fast toward Jefferson, but Trapper felt they were coming. Gut, not brains.