FIFTEEN
As darkness began to fall, they camped. Clint dispatched the girls to find firewood while he took care of the horses.
“Make sure it’s something that will burn,” he said.
They returned with an armful each, and he built a fire and then put on a pot of coffee. After that he took out a frying pan for the bacon and beans.
As they sat around the fire, Clint noticed that Bride kept looking around, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment.
“I assume you ladies didn’t spend much time in Ireland sleeping outside.”
“We may not have had much,” Bridget said, “but we did usually have a roof over our heads, and a bed of sorts.”
“Well, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Clint said.
“What about animals?” Bride asked.
“They won’t come near the fire.”
“And outlaws?” she asked. “What if they sneak up on us while we sleep?”
“They won’t be able to sneak up, because I’ll be watching.”
“All night?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
That didn’t seem to soothe her very much.
“Here,” he said, “concentrate on this.” He handed each girl a plate of bacon and beans, and then offered them a cup of coffee.
“I don’t like coffee,” Bride said. “Don’t we have some tea?”
“No tea,” Clint said. “You can drink water from the canteen.”
Bridget accepted the coffee, but not Bride. She morosely began to eat her food.
“This is very good,” Bridget proclaimed.
“It’s trail food,” Clint said. “I like trail food a lot.”
“Is this what they eat on trail drives?” Bridget asked. Her sister looked at her. “I read about them,” Bridget explained.
“Sometimes,” Clint said, “but on a trail drive they have a chuck wagon and a cook with them, so they eat other things.”
“Like what?” Bride asked.
“Soup, stew, some beef if a cow happened to be butchered.”
“I wish we had a chuck wagon,” Bride said.
“Hey,” Clint said, “I’m considered to be a pretty good trail cook.”
That didn’t seem to impress Bride.
“You ladies have your choice,” he said. “You can sleep inside the wagon, or out under the stars.”
“I will sleep in the wagon,” Bride said quickly.
“I will sleep under the stars,” Bridget said.
“Good,” Clint said to her.
Bride finished her food and set her plate aside, but Bridget extended her plate to Clint for seconds. Clint wondered how Bride was going to do when she was living with Ed O’Neil at his gold mining camp. Maybe his old friend would build a house for her.
When they’d finished, Clint showed Bridget how to clean the plates and cups using dirt. Bride got up and went to the wagon, climbing inside. She was moving around in there for a while, probably getting her bedding set up, and then the wagon stopped rocking.
* * *
As instructed by Ahern, Kemper had made a cold camp when he stopped for the night. His supper was beef jerky and water. Thankfully, the fall night was mild.
He was just starting to drift off to sleep when he heard someone approaching the camp. He drew his gun, got up into a crouch, and waited.
“Hello, the camp,” Ahern’s voice came from the darkness, just loud enough to be heard.
“That you, Ahern?” Kemper asked.
“It’s me.”
“Come ahead.”
Kemper entered the camp on foot, leading his horse.
“Why didn’t you make a fire?” he asked.
“You told me to make a cold camp.”
“You’re upwind, Kemp,” Ahern said. He sniffed the air. “All Adams is gonna smell is his own coffee and bacon. Make a fire, I brought some beans.”
“You don’t got to tell me twice.”
Once they had a fire going, and were eating beans and drinking coffee, Kemper said, “You got our money?”
“I got it.”
“Lemme see it.”
“What for?” Ahern asked.
“I just wanna see it.”
“Later,” Ahern said. “It’s in my saddlebags.”
“How much?”
“Enough,” Ahern said. “Enough to do the job. How far ahead of us are they camped?”
“About a mile.”
“That’s too close,” Ahern said. “Tomorrow night we’ll fall back further.”
“We don’t wanna lose ’em.”
“We won’t lose ’em.”
“What about when we get to Council Bluffs, and after?” Kemper asked. “When we head west? Neither one of us can track.”
“By then we’ll have somebody with us who can,” Ahern said. “Don’t worry. I was late gettin’ here because I took the time to send a few more telegrams.”
“To who?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ahern said. “Just know that when we get to Council Bluffs, we’ll be all set. We’ll have everything we need to get the job done.”
“I hope so,” Kemper said.
“I’m tellin’ you so, Kemp,” Ahern said. “Just believe me.”
SIXTEEN
True to her word, Bridget slept outside, under the stars, wrapped in a blanket. During the night Clint could see the wagon moving as Bride was tossing and turning.
He hadn’t lied about being on watch all night. He was concerned about being followed from Saint Louis so he intended to stay on watch with his rifle across his knees. Anytime he might have dozed, he could depend on Eclipse to alert him to any trouble.
Halfway through the night he noticed Bridget turn over and toss off her blanket. She got to her feet, straightened her skirt, and then came over to him by the fire.
“Do you mind if I sit?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he said. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Please.”
He poured her a cup and handed it to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, drank from his own cup. He stared straight out into the darkness.
“How do you do this?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Keep watch,” she said. “Not sleep?”
“It’s not hard,” he said. “My body is still at rest while I sit here.”
“Do you stare into the dark all night?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “If you look into the fire, it destroys your night vision. If someone—or something—comes at you in that moment, you won’t see them.”
“I understand,” she said. Then she added, “‘Some-thing’?”
“A wolf,” he said, “or a big cat. They don’t usually come near a fire, but sometimes . . .”
“Sometimes what?”
“Sometimes they get hungry enough . . . I didn’t want to worry your sister.”
“So you decided to worry me instead?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
He looked at her.
“You’re stronger,” he said. “I suspect that’s why you came with her to meet her prospective husband.”
“I came with her because we are family,” she said, “the only family we have.”
“Does Ed know you’re coming along?”
“He does,” she said. “We made it a condition.”
“Oh, of course,” Clint said. “He told me in the letter I’d be meeting two ladies.”
“You appeared to be very surprised when you saw us,” she said. “You were expecting two older women, weren’t you?”
“I was,” he said. “Ed is . . . well, I’m sure you know he’s over
sixty.”
“We know,” she said. “But we wanted to get out of Ireland, and he sent the fare money.”
“Did it ever occur to you to go your own way when you got to this country?”
“I’ll not lie, Clint,” she said. “’Twas more than a passing thought. But we cannot do that.”
“Too honest?”
She laughed.
“Too frightened.”
He laughed then.
“I admire your honesty.”
She put her hand on his arm.
“May I continue to be honest?”
“Please.”
Now she gave his arm a squeeze.
“I find you very attractive,” she said. “I did from the moment I saw you.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
“Very much so,” he said. “You’re lovely.”
She removed her hand from his arm, put it on his thigh.
“I almost approached you on the train, and again in the hotel,” she said.
“What stopped you?”
She smiled and removed her hand from his body completely.
“Bride,” she said. “She made me promise . . . I had a wild period in my youth, Clint.”
“Your youth?”
“My teens,” she said. “I was . . . a rebel. Our parents were very religious, and I rebelled against that. Bride made me promise I’d never do that again.”
“I see.”
“But it wouldn’t be that . . . with you,” she said. “I know that.”
She leaned closer to him, and he did the same. They kissed, gently at first, and then the kiss deepened until Clint pulled away.
“Another time and place, Bridget,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t want Bride—”
At that moment the wagon began to rock again.
“She can’t get comfortable,” he said.
“Give her time.”
“You know,” he said, “you won’t be living in great comfort in Shasta. I mean . . . it is a mining camp you’re going to.”
“We know that,” she said, “but it will still be better than where we were.”
“I hope so.”
She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, then said, “I better get back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Early,” Clint said. “I’ll have some breakfast ready.”
“I look forward to it,” she said, “and a lot more.”
She went back to her bedroll and wrapped herself up in her blanket. Clint could still taste her on his lips, and he recalled the freckles on her chest. He wondered how far down they went.
* * *
Kemper stared out into the darkness, wondering why he had to stand watch. After all, they weren’t being followed; they were doing the following. Ahern snored from his bedroll, and Kemper poured himself another cup of coffee.
SEVENTEEN
Clint had a fresh pot of coffee ready when the girls woke up, and some strips of bacon. He had to go to the wagon and give it a shake to wake Bride, who—after tossing and turning most of the night—seemed to have settled down.
“Time to get up,” he called. “Breakfast is ready.”
“I’m coming,” she moaned.
Clint turned and walked to the fire, found Bridget waiting there for him.
“I must warn you, Bride is not a morning person.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ve ridden with few people who are.”
“Here she comes.”
Bride climbed down from the wagon, stumbled a bit on the way to the fire. Bridget handed her a cup of coffee.
“I did not sleep very well,” she complained.
“You’ll get used to it,” Clint said. “Here, have some bacon.”
She accepted the plate, and sat down at the fire.
“Will we be getting to a town today?” she asked.
“Probably not,” Clint said. “Unless we come across a small one I’m not aware of.”
“There must be many towns in the West you are not aware of,” she observed.
“I’m sure there are.”
That seemed to make her more hopeful.
When they were finished with breakfast, Clint said, “If you ladies will clean up, I’ll take care of getting the horses ready.”
“Yes, we’ll do so,” Bridget said.
“Okay, thanks. And make sure the fire is out. Pour the rest of the coffee on it, and then kick it until it’s out.”
As Clint walked away, Bridget noticed Bride looking at her strangely.
“What did you do?” Bride asked when Clint was out of earshot.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, dear sister,” Bride said.
“I did not do anything, Bride,” Bridget said.
“Is that the truth?”
“It is,” Bridget said. “Do you want me to swear on the Bible?”
“I do not want you to swear,” Bride said archly. “I believe you.”
“Fine. Let’s clean up, then.”
“With dirt?”
“Yes,” Bridget said, “with dirt.”
* * *
A mile behind them another camp was breaking for the day.
“Did you get any tobacco?” Kemper asked.
“I did.” He passed his partner some tobacco and paper.
“Can I smoke?” Kemper asked.
“We’re still upwind,” Ahern said. “Go ahead.”
Ahern finished kicking the fire to death, then went to saddle his horse. Kemper made a cigarette, lit it, and started saddling his own horse.
“Why don’t we go ahead of them?” he asked.
“What?” Ahern asked.
“If we know where they’re going,” Kemper asked, “why don’t we circle ahead of them?”
Ahern turned and looked at his friend.
“What?” Kemper asked.
“I was just thinking,” Ahern said, “that might be the first time you’ve ever had a good idea.”
“Maybe it’s just the first time you ever listened to what I have to say.”
Ahern thought a moment, then said, “No, that’s not it.”
EIGHTEEN
They traveled several more days without stopping at a town. Clint finally relented and pulled into the town of Calvert. It had a general store that doubled as a saloon, and not much else. They restocked a bit but the ladies were not able to find a bathtub. They did, however, buy several pairs of britches.
After they left town, the girls took turns in the back of the wagon, changing from their skirts to their pants. When they were done, Bridget ended up in front with Clint, while Bride was in the back of the wagon.
She noticed Clint craning his neck to look back behind them, and she put her hand on his arm. He whipped his head around to look at her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I’m just keeping an eye out behind us,” he said.
“Do you think we’re being followed?”
“Well, maybe not followed,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I thought someone might be trailing us—that is, not following us, but following our trail, keeping out of sight.”
“Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “They could be following me because they recognized me, and at some point, they may want to try me.”
“Try you?”
“Try to kill me.”
“Why?”
“Just because of who I am.”
“That must be a terrible thing to live with,” she said
.
“On the other hand,” he said, “maybe it’s not me.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Is there any reason you and your sister might have been followed?”
“From Ireland?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “From Ireland, from New York.”
“Why would anyone follow us?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m asking you.”
“I have no idea.”
“Well,” Clint said with one last look behind them, “maybe I’m just wrong.”
* * *
Ahern and Kemper rode into Saint Joseph, Missouri, ahead of Clint and the Shaughnessy sisters.
“Why don’t we wait for them here?” Kemper asked when they stopped in a saloon for a drink.
“No,” Ahern said.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already made plans for Council Bluffs,” he said. “I’ve got some men waitin’ for us there.”
“Oh,” Kemper said. “Well, why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I didn’t think there was any reason to confuse you.”
“Why do you always treat me like I’m stupid?”
“Seems to me I’m less likely to make a mistake that way,” Ahern said.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Ahern said. “Drink your beer, then we’ll pick up some coffee and jerky and get back on the trail.”
“Why don’t we spend the night?”
“Why don’t you stop makin’ suggestions, Kemp?” Ahern asked.
“Hey,” Kemper said, “I’m the one who suggested we get ahead of them, remember?”
“Yeah,” Ahern said, “and you should quit while you’re ahead.”
NINETEEN
When they rode into Saint Joseph, Bride was visibly relieved to see a real town.
“The first thing I want is a bathtub,” she said, “and a hot bath.”
They had bathed along the way in streams and waterholes, but they were all cold, just a quick in and out.
“I want a long soak,” Bridget said.
They both looked at Clint.
“All right,” he said, “we’ll stay overnight in a hotel and you can have your baths.”
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