“She wounds me.” Nicholas put a hand to his heart, mocking, “How will I survive?”
She shook her head, not thinking he was serious by the way he smiled at her. “Just fine, I think. You already have one adoring admirer. Isn’t that all a man needs?” Nicholas spent so much time with Miss Amelia and the girl clearly preferred him, too. Beth could and must pretend she didn’t care.
A warning glance went between the brothers. Nicholas narrowed his eyes as if angry while Samuel cleared his throat, saying “I’m sure Nick has things to do while I see you safely back to your hold. Nick, later?”
The older brother gave a mock salute, and went to the creek to fill the pail. Beth resisted the urge to look back at him, instead falling in pace with Samuel.
They walked a little way before Samuel said, “My brother is a good man.”
Nodding, she agreed, “I’ve found him to be so.”
Samuel stared at her, eyes narrowed. “I would expect you to be a good woman.”
His frown unnerved her, but she shrugged off the worry. From his prior treatment of her and the other ladies, he’d been stern but never truly angry with anyone. Did Mr. Granville see through her? Did he see how much she felt for his brother already? Samuel had to know Beth only felt an infatuation for Nicholas and tried to deny herself even that little bit. She swallowed, replying, “I try to be a lady at all times.”
He patted her arm. “Good. I would hate to think of a married woman leading Nick on to discard him when he’s served his purpose.”
She stopped and chuckled at the idea. “Me discarding him?” Beth felt sure trading Daggart for Nicholas had to be an improvement. If she ever had the chance at a relationship with him, she’d never let Nicolas go. “Are you sure the reverse wouldn’t be true?”
“Not of him, he’s not the play around type. Nick cares too much about people.” Samuel started toward the circle again. “He’s been a hermit by choice for the past few years. He had his reasons, but I’m glad he’s out in polite society again.” They drew close to the Bartlett camp. Samuel continued, but in a quieter voice, “Don’t entertain yourself with his affections or I will not be happy with you. Do you understand?”
Beth felt sick. She now had two threats from two men in less than a week. Maybe she should be the one to leave polite society if threats were all anyone gave her. Pulling away from him, she answered, “I understand.”
“Good.” He released her arm and smiled as if nothing were amiss. As Daggart strolled up to them, Samuel hollered, “Bartlett! Will you be at tonight’s games?”
Dag grinned, replying, “Lookin’ forward to it already. If I can get my lazy woman to fix dinner, I’ll be there before mornin’.”
“Excellent! We’ll see you there.” Turning to leave, he tipped his hat at her. “Mrs. Bartlett.”
“Mr. Granville,” Beth nodded in reply. She sighed, considering herself warned. Would Samuel be as physical as Daggart? She watched her husband start a fire. Beth supposed, by Daggart’s continued silence, he still punished her. She smiled, thinking how his idea of punishment didn’t match her own. After peeling a couple of potatoes for dinner, she cooked them with bacon and made flat bread. They ate without conversation, Daggart leaving as soon as he took the last bite.
Beth gathered up their dishes, unwilling to go to the creek. A task achievable in daylight proved impossible in the dark. The thought of stumbling in the blackness terrified her. She settled for stacking everything in the bucket, promising a better wash during daylight.
Alone at last, she smiled while retrieving her sewing. First Dag beat her, then Samuel threatened her. Would Nicholas hurt her, too? She didn’t believe him capable, but wouldn’t have believed it of Daggart when they first met either. Despite the unease she felt when thinking of the Granvilles, Beth loved nearing the finish of her dress. She didn’t want to imagine any more meanness. Instead, she counted the stitches as she sewed.
The fire and dry place to rest was a blessing, allowing her to get several large pieces sewn together. Beth couldn’t help working faster on the hem. Once done, she tied a small knot, hiding the thread’s end in the fabric. Standing and stiff-legged from sitting so long, she held the dress up for inspection, loving how beautiful it looked. After folding and placing the garment in the wagon, she stoked the fire into a roaring brightness. Unable to wait any longer, Beth scrambled up into the wagon. She worked fast, changing from Lizzy’s old dress to her new one.
She hopped out into the firelight and spun around so the skirt flared. The waist hugged Beth’s waist. The bodice rose up enough for modesty’s sake, and yet she’d made a neckline low enough to be stylish. She hugged herself, thrilled with her efforts.
“I hope I enjoy my socks as much,” Nicholas said, walking into the firelight.
She started. “Oh my! I didn’t see you there.” Beth put a hand to her clavicle, surprised at touching skin. Lizzy’s dress had unfashionably gone up to her throat’s hollow, and she’d grown so accustomed to it over time that now a normal fitting dress seemed odd.
“Sorry if I startled you.”
Beth returned his smile, “I was enjoying my new dress too much to notice anything else.” His admiration warmed her more than the fire.
“It’s beautiful.” He stepped closer. “Turn around, let’s see if it fits in the back as well as it does the front.”
Her cheeks burned with bashfulness under his scrutiny. If Samuel saw how his brother stared at her, he’d be angry. She needed to shoo Nicholas away. “Sir, I think you’re enjoying this far too much.”
“You’re right, I am enjoying this.” He went to her. “If you knit better than you sew, I’m one lucky man.”
“Then, you’re lucky. I do knit far better than I sew.” She smoothed imaginary wrinkles in her skirt, shy from her boasting.
He folded his arms. “Seeing you in such a dress? I’ll only believe it when I get my socks, and that will be when, again?”
“Oh, you!” She smiled at his apparent strategy. ”If you’re trying to get me to knit faster, it’s working.”
“Good!” Nicholas leaned toward her, saying with a sly grin, “I want something you made hugging my feet.”
Beth laughed at him. “You mock me far too much! To think, Samuel warned me not to tease you. He should be warning you about teasing me instead.” She stopped smiling when he frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Sam warned you not to tease me?” His friendliness cooled to a hard anger.
Beth didn’t want yet another person livid with her, so she countered with, “I think I should set up the tent. Aren’t you tired?”
“No, I’m not at all.” Nicholas stepped closer to her, frowning. “Did Sam warn you about me?”
“A little, yes.” Nervous, she laced her fingers together, adding, “He pointed out, and rightly so, my status as a married lady.”
“Something we’re both very aware of.”
“Yes.” Beth wished she held something to worry with like men had their hats. Making a sunbonnet from the remaining fabric would help. He still watched her, as if waiting for Beth to say more. “Also, I’m not to amuse myself with you.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Amuse?” He chuckled. “He said that?”
She nodded. “Almost exactly.”
Laughing, he said, “I can imagine how he must have sounded. He’s far too protective for a younger brother.”
His amusement reassured Beth. Nicholas’s anger didn’t scare her as much as Daggart’s, but it still worried her. “Maybe so, but in this case I think he’s correct.” She glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers. “I find myself forgetting about Daggart when you’re near.” In a quiet voice, she added, “And sometimes when you aren’t near, I want to forget him.”
Nicholas started to say something to her but stopped. After a moment of staring off into the distance, he said, “Sam was right, shielding me from you.” He gave her a wry smile not reaching his eyes. “I need to go tell him to protect you from m
e.”
Panic surged through her. “Oh no, no, don’t do that. He’ll know I’ve spoken to you about this and I shouldn’t have.” She stepped up to him, willing to grab his suspenders to stop Nicholas if necessary. “He’s already not happy with me. Please don’t make it worse.” Beth bit her lip, saying, “I warned you about me, you warned me about you and everything is fine.” She smiled, patting him on the arm. “And now we’ve both been warned, so Samuel doesn’t need to be told anything, right?”
“He doesn’t,” Nicholas repeated, arms crossed again.
“Good.” The dangerous look returned to his face but not as intense as before. She put her hand on her hips, exasperated. “I can’t imagine why I mentioned his and my conversation to you. Once I’m near you, I start telling secrets. You are a dangerous man, Mr. Granville.”
As if liking the idea, he nodded, saying, “I am, and I’ll tell you a secret of my own.”
She took a step back. “I don’t know if I want to hear one from you. The other Mr. Granville wouldn’t approve.”
Giving her a sardonic look, he said, “It’s simply this: tomorrow will be here too soon. Your dress is done, so get some sleep. We still have the creek to cross, and I’m sure you won’t like doing so.”
“Oh dear.” She stared heavenward, wondering whether to get over her fears or just go back and try to find a new life.
He took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine, good night and sleep well.” Nicholas said and left for his own bedroll.
“Good night, Nicholas,” she whispered. “I miss you already.”
In the morning, Beth gathered as much wood after breakfast as she could before travel started. The wagons crossed a wider portion of the creek bed laying a little north of camp. She rode across in the wagon, uncomfortable with wading across. Even though the water level was lower here, she’d still be in more than knee deep. She shuddered, thinking of what stumbling over a rock might do.
As the other teams drove over, a few mules resisted, balking and spooking the other animals, but no one was hurt. On the opposite side, the land flattened with slight hills on either side. They followed the wide valley, giving Beth a chance to knit as she walked. During lunch, Beth fervently wished the men found game of some sort. Cooking the same food day after day grew monotonous and eating it was worse.
The pace today seemed faster than usual to her. Not that anyone moved in a rush, but more as if the group’s rhythm moved quicker than in the prior days. They continued far into the evening, past the usual time for dinner. Word passed around the captains wanted them to gain as much ground as possible during the fine weather.
She agreed, liking the late spring air. Word was passed down to stop for the night just before dark. With no water source nearby, the men took turns digging a hole in the damp sand of a dry creek. Muddy water filled the temporary well as they dug. Women and some men scooped out what they needed then led animals for their drinks before night. Beth strained the liquid and set it aside for the silt to settle. Tomorrow, she planned on pouring the clearest layer from the top into the water jar and coffee pot.
Without being asked, Daggart set up their tent. She smiled at him, “Thank you, I appreciate this.”
He scowled, looking at his feet. “Aw, yer welcome. We’re about a couple days to the Platte. I’m goin’ to stop at Fort Kearny for supplies.”
The fort meant a chance to wear her new dress. Beth still didn’t relish the crowds, but did like the idea of wearing something pretty. “Good! I’d like to go, if possible.”
Daggart shuffled from one foot to the other. “One of us needs to watch our property here. You could tell me what you’re needin’.” He kicked an imaginary rock.
She gritted her teeth, wanting to yell at him. Beth instead forced herself to maintain an even tone, saying, “I’d prefer you not buy whisky there.”
In one swift move, Daggart grabbed her arm, pulling her close. He sneered, “You’re not tellin’ me what to do, are ya?”
Unable to look him in the eyes, she admitted, “No, but you hurt me when you’re drunk.”
He let her go with a little shove. After a few seconds, Daggart put his hands in his pants pockets. “I wouldn’t if you’d do your duty.”
“We both know the truth.” She clenched her teeth to keep calm. “It’s not my duty.”
Like a petulant child, he retorted, “As long as you’re my wife, it is.”
Beth didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to be reminded of their arrangement. She went to Erleen as if the cow needed attention. “Very well.”
He left without a word. Beth watched him walk away, glad Daggart had found other amusements. She’d heard enough gossip to know he played cards with the other men, or chatted with Mr. Chatillon. While Daggart was away this evening, Beth finished Nicholas’s socks. She wanted to find him, but suddenly felt shy. Beth put her sewing trunk back in the wagon instead, ready for sleep.
Sometime during the night, Daggart came back to their camp. He slept through the hustle of morning. She gently shook him awake. “Dag, it’s time for us to round up and go.”
He mumbled something about being tired and turned over for more sleep. Resigned to his sluggishness, Beth took down the tent around him. She loaded the canvas, pegs, and center pole as he slept.
Only after she hitched the oxen did he come around to the front of the wagon still rubbing his eyes. “I appreciate you pulling up stakes for me.”
She smiled at the first nice thing he’d said to her in a while. “You’re welcome. You set it up, the least I could do is pull it down.” He nodded, dismissing her. Beth patted Erleen as they followed the lurching wagon.
Beth watched for Nicholas all day, hoping to give him his new socks. She didn’t want a fuss, or anyone to consider her brash in making clothing for a man. She’d thought of him with every stitch, longing to spend hours alone with him. She loved talking with Nicholas as herself, not as some parody of Lizzy as Daggart preferred.
The wagon train ground to a halt as a large, sandy expanse stretched before them. Instructions spread through the group. Each wagon was to follow the one before as Chuck and Lawrence found a solid way through the sand. Drivers were encouraged to keep rolling, no matter how slow, to keep from sinking. Fine grains whirled in the hot afternoon air, choking everyone on two or four legs. After ten miles of blinding dust, both people and animals’ eyes burned. Beth’s own eyes held tears as if she cried in earnest.
Looking like bandits with bandanas covering their nose and mouths, Nicholas, Claude, and Mr. Lucky rode by her with only Nicholas stopping. He dismounted and went to Beth. “Mrs. Bartlett. We’re checking on everyone. Are you well enough to continue to Blue River for tonight?”
“Yes,” she replied through the cloth tied around her face.
He tipped his hat. “Good. See you this evening.”
The next nine miles passed by quickly for Beth. The harder grassland was so much easier to traverse than the desert. Plus, the promise of seeing Nicholas tonight kept her in high spirits. They’d not talked in a few days and she missed him. Catching sight of him once in a great while as he worked wasn’t enough to satisfy her.
Upon stopping, Beth did all her usual chores. The closest anyone came to clear water was a muddy stream, barely a trickle. The men again took turns digging in the soaked earth for water. At the shallow well, she gathered their portion and saw Sam, who nodded.
He walked up to her. “Mrs. Bartlett.”
“Mr. Granville.” She turned toward the camp.
“If you don’t mind, ma’am, we’d like you and your husband to join us for dinner tonight.”
Beth wondered, after his warning, why did he ask this? She saw nothing suspicious in his expression. “I’d like to, but can’t speak for my husband. He’s lately had his meals with whoever is playing cards that evening.”
His eyes narrowed. “I see. I hope you can attend, even if he chooses to dine elsewhere again.”
“Thank you.”
She asked, “Should I bring anything?”
“No, you’ll be our guest this evening.” Samuel gave her an inscrutable smile and went to the camp.
By the time Erleen was fed and milked, the sky glowed amber. Not seeing Daggart anywhere, Beth went on to stake out the oxen, making sure they also had a long drink at the well. While leading the animals around for their refreshment, she saw various couples walk along the embankment, pretending to look for a spring. She smiled to herself at how the young adults flirted under their elders’ watch. If Lizzy still lived, Beth might have her own husband by now.
Beth forced the thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to dwell on her situation. Anything near the subject led to her brooding, and that would leave her unable to enjoy the evening. Once the animals were settled in, she took Nicholas’s socks from her trunk to make sure he received them.
She went to the Granville’s camp and saw all their hands circled around the fire. Nicholas and Samuel sat there too, taking turns tending to the food. Beth chewed on her lip, not wanting to call attention by boldly stepping into the light. Samuel saw her and waved, causing Nicholas to see her too. Beth smiled and walked over, her face warm from the greeting everyone gave. The men all stood and talked at once.
“Good evening,” she said when the fuss quieted. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve not seen Mr. Bartlett this evening, or I’m sure he’d be here too.”
Mr. Lucky piped up, “I saw him at the Chatillon’s. He and the old man play a lot of poker.”
Chuck nudged him quiet, and he added, “Not for keeps, though. Mr. B says he’s saving up for his stake.”
The others snickered at this. Beth glanced around at them. Each one noticed her gaze and lowered his eyes. “I’m sure he is,” she responded. She knew their opinions because they echoed her own. Any gold in California had already been claimed by ‘49ers, or by those with money to buy huge tracts of land. Lizzy had refused to go when alive, so Daggart didn’t argue. If not for the two good years of farming and his bullying, they’d not be going now.
Undeniable Page 15