Wagon Trail

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Right now I wish this one was carrying a nice hot shower,” said Stevie.

  “Maybe if we don’t complain it won’t seem so bad.” Lisa pulled her dress on. “You know, keep a stiff upper lip and everything. After all, we’ve got a job to do.” She sat down and began to put on her shoes. “In fact, we’ve got several jobs to do. We’ve got to learn all about the trip and the land, and do our research for Deborah’s article, and take care of our animals, plus all the other basic stuff, like surviving.”

  “And like not letting Gabriel get under our skin.” Stevie pushed up the sleeves of her dress and frowned. “He is such a creep.”

  “He is pretty arrogant,” Carole agreed, tying her long hair in a ponytail.

  “Watch out, then.” Lisa looked out the back of the wagon. “Here comes Mr. Arrogant Creep now.”

  Gabriel sauntered up to the back of their wagon. “Hi,” he said, smiling his funny, lopsided smile. “How are you ladies doing this morning?”

  “Fine,” snapped Stevie, her hazel eyes flashing.

  “Well,” he said, laughing, “you’re the only girls on this trip who are. Every other female I’ve talked to this morning has only complained about the weather. ‘It was soooo nasty last night,’ ” he mimicked in a high voice. “ ‘All my clothes got wet and my hair’s a mess! I miss my hair dryer!’ ” Gabriel gave a snort. “I think this trip might be too tough for girls, if all they can do is whine about one night of light rain!”

  Carole and Lisa felt Stevie twitch between them. They knew how infuriating Gabriel’s words were to her. Lisa quickly shifted in front of her while Carole grabbed the back of her dress. It would do no good for Stevie to pounce on Gabriel like a mountain lion in front of the whole camp!

  Gabriel continued, obviously unaware that he had insulted The Saddle Club and every other female on the trip. “Anyway, I won’t have to put up with any slackers today. As assistant trail boss, I get to ride with one of the scouts to make sure the trail ahead is clear.” He smiled at the girls and tipped his hat. “So I hope you ladies have a nice, dry, comfy day!”

  “It’s looking sunnier already,” Stevie called as Gabriel strolled over toward Jeremy’s camp.

  When he was out of sight, the girls turned back inside their wagon.

  “Can you believe him?” Stevie clenched her fists in frustration.

  “No.” Carole shook her head. “Actually, I can’t.”

  “Boy, I can think of about a hundred jokes I’d like to play on him. Starting with greasing his saddle so that he can’t stay on his horse and then gluing the inside of his stupid old hat so that he can’t tip it to the ladies’ anymore!”

  “Stevie!” Lisa warned. “You could get into some serious trouble if you started playing your practical jokes here.”

  “I know,” Stevie replied, realizing that she had to behave. “Getting into trouble would be bad; Deborah is counting on us.” She sighed; then she looked at Carole and Lisa and smiled. “Anyway, there are so many wonderful things going on here, how could I possibly be thinking about getting into trouble?”

  “Wonderful things?” Lisa raised one eyebrow. “Like what?”

  Stevie grinned. “Like we’re here in the middle of this beautiful country reenacting this wonderful piece of history!”

  “Well, yes,” Lisa agreed. “And apparently we’re the only females on this wagon train who aren’t complaining about it.”

  “Right!” said Stevie. “See how much better things are already? And we won’t have to deal with that jerk Gabriel for the rest of the day! He’ll be out of our hair until the campfire tonight, and that’s the most wonderful thing imaginable!”

  The girls hopped out of the wagon to find that the day was sunny and bright. The night’s rain had washed the mugginess out of the air, and everything sparkled as if it were brand new. They ate their mush for breakfast, then broke camp with everyone else. Stevie hitched up Yankee and Doodle more smoothly than she ever had before, and Carole found Nikkia’s trot a lot easier to sit. And though Lisa was sore from her night underneath the wagon, Veronica seemed well rested and had caught on to the fact that she was supposed to walk with them instead of wandering around the plains munching grass.

  The Saddle Club moved up one place in line and headed west. With Gabriel scouting ahead of them and bratty Eileen remaining with her own family, they had a good morning. Stevie and Lisa switched jobs once, and Lisa was about to trade off driving with Carole when Jeremy halted the train for lunch.

  “Thank goodness!” said Lisa as she pulled Yankee and Doodle to a stop. “I was just hoping we would break for lunch.”

  Carole glanced over at her friend and noticed dark circles underneath her eyes. “Lisa, you’re looking a little tired,” she said. “Why don’t you take a nap after lunch? Stevie and I can handle your share of the chores, and I’ll volunteer to milk Veronica for anybody who would like some fresh milk.”

  Lisa’s mouth fell open. “Where did you learn to milk a cow?”

  “Oh, it’s part of Marine Corps basic training,” Carole replied, then burst out laughing at Lisa’s astonished expression. “Actually, I learned on my aunt’s farm in Minnesota. They have a holstein named Cora Mae.”

  Lisa smiled in gratitude. “Carole, that would be wonderful. I could use a little extra sleep.”

  “And I bet some of these pioneers could use a glass of milk!”

  After lunch Stevie helped clean up while Lisa retreated to the wagon for a nap. Though Carole’s own arms and legs ached from riding and driving, she tied Veronica to one of the few trees growing nearby and sat down on a milking stool beside her. A small crowd of pioneers gathered around to watch.

  “Okay, Veronica,” Carole said to the cow, which turned and gave her a dubious look. “Let’s show these people what you can do.”

  Hoping that she hadn’t forgotten all the milking skills she’d learned in Minnesota, Carole placed a bucket beneath the cow and gave one of her udders a pull and a squeeze. Veronica shifted once on her feet; then suddenly a stream of white milk began to clatter into the bucket. A cheer went up from the crowd.

  “Wow, Carole,” said Polly Shaver. “That’s neat.”

  “Yeah,” a man agreed. “We didn’t think you could really do it.”

  Carole smiled. “Actually, Veronica’s the one doing most of it. I’m just sort of at the right place at the right time.”

  “Can I have a taste?” a little boy asked.

  “Sure,” said Carole. “Let me get this bucket a little fuller.”

  Veronica gave a half bucket of milk. Everybody who wanted some got some.

  Awhile later Lisa climbed out of the wagon, looking rested and refreshed. “Did Veronica do okay?” she asked, looking at the cow, which had again wandered off to browse in the grass.

  “She was the hit of the day.” Carole grinned.

  “Thanks for helping me out like that, Carole,” said Lisa. “I feel so much better.”

  “Well, that’s what The Saddle Club is all about,” said Carole.

  “Maybe that’s what the pioneer spirit is all about, too,” said Stevie, who had just finished the milk she’d scooped from Carole’s bucket. “Anyway, now we need to get going. The train’s rolling west.”

  They resumed their old jobs, but this time with lighter hearts. Though they still had their various aches and pains, they rode along thinking that problems didn’t seem nearly as bad when you were with people who shared them right along with you, and who were happy to help you whenever they could.

  THAT EVENING A crimson sunset blazed in the western sky. Stevie and Carole and Lisa sat enjoying it beside the campfire as they finished the last of their supper. Just as the sun finally slipped behind the distant mountains, Mr. Cate began to play a soft tune on his harmonica and Jeremy stood up to start their nightly campfire session.

  “Tonight, instead of talking about the history of the Oregon Trail, we’re going to do something a little different,” he announced with a devilish gleam in h
is eye. “We’re going to do what the pioneers often did after a long, hard day on the trail.”

  “What’s that?” someone asked from across the fire.

  Jeremy grinned. “We’re going to entertain each other with stories. Tall tales, jokes, riddles, anything you want. It’s all up to you.”

  Stevie winked at Lisa and Carole as she raised her hand. “Hey, Jeremy, can we tell ghost stories?”

  “We sure can,” he replied. “Are you volunteering to tell the first one?”

  “Why, yes,” Stevie said. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Then stand up here by the fire so that everyone can hear you, and scare us to death.” Jeremy led the campers in a round of applause as Stevie approached the fire. “Ladies and gentlemen, the best ghost-story teller in Virginia, Ms. Stevie Lake.”

  Stevie bowed deeply and began her story. Though Lisa and Carole had heard it many times before—the legend of a ghost stallion that seeks revenge on the drovers who rounded up his herd—that night Stevie changed the setting from Virginia to the Western plains and transformed the Chincoteague Island ponies to wild mustangs. Everyone’s eyes grew wide as Stevie described the terror of the drovers who kept hearing ghostly hoofbeats bearing down upon them when there was nothing there. Finally, just as Stevie reached the climax of her story, one of the real wagon train horses let out a single shrill scream. Everybody nearly jumped out of their skin.

  “And the stallion lives on to this day,” Stevie finished with a flourish, “still searching for anyone who has ever hurt a horse. That might even be him right now, looking for you!”

  Except for two people, everyone burst into applause. To Stevie’s delight, little Eileen sat trembling in her mother’s lap, her arms clutching her mother’s neck in terror. Gabriel, on the other hand, had pushed his cowboy hat back on his head and was giving Stevie a curious, unreadable look.

  “Thank you, Stevie,” said Jeremy. “That was great. Anybody else have an entertainment for the evening?”

  “I do,” Gabriel announced.

  “Let’s have it, then,” said Jeremy.

  Stevie sat down, shrugging at Carole and Lisa as Gabriel sauntered to the middle of the circle.

  “Does everyone realize this is Crow country?” Gabriel began. He stood in the circle and began talking about an Indian brave who’d killed his blood brother. He hadn’t spoken a minute before Stevie realized that this was a ghost story, too. Gabriel was trying to one-up her! Not only did he think he knew everything about horses and wagons and the Oregon Trail, he thought he was the best ghost-story teller on the planet as well. No way, Stevie silently vowed as Gabriel spoke in eerie tones over the fire. I’m a hundred times better than he is, and I’ll prove it if I have to tell ghost stories all night.

  Gabriel ended his tale with a war whoop, which again made everyone jump and made little Eileen cover her ears.

  “Anybody else?” Jeremy asked after Gabriel sat down.

  “I’ve got another,” Stevie called out, giving Gabriel a steely glare. “And it’s the scariest story in the world!”

  “Go, Stevie!” another camper called. “We want some more of yours!”

  “Okay, Stevie, you’re on again.” Jeremy laughed and sat down. Everyone’s eyes turned to Stevie.

  “Once upon a time,” she began, standing close to the fire so that the flames would make her cheeks and chin look scary, “there was a young man who feared rats more than anything in the world.…”

  A hush fell on the campers as Stevie wove her tale of murder and revenge. Little Eileen began to cry, and as Stevie’s voice rose in conclusion, all the campers gazed at her in rapt attention.

  “And every time you hear scratching that you can’t explain, just remember that man and what the rats did to him!”

  Everybody murmured approval when the story was over, and Stevie sat down to great applause.

  “Wow, Stevie, I’ve heard you tell that one before, but never that well.” Carole rubbed her arms and shivered. “You really gave me the chills.”

  “Yeah, Stevie, that was great!” Lisa said with a smile.

  Gabriel was halfway back to the campfire when Jeremy stopped him. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for tonight. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. We’re going to be crossing the river, plus tomorrow night the dude ranchers are going to be joining us. I think right now all of us had better call it a day and get a good night’s sleep.”

  The campers stretched their legs and got up slowly, yawning as they made their way to their sleeping bags. Several people congratulated Stevie on her storytelling as they went to their own campsites.

  “Where shall we sleep tonight?” asked Carole when the girls reached their wagon. “Inside, outside, or underneath the wagon?”

  Lisa looked up at the twinkling stars. “Oh, let’s sleep outside. The ground is softer than the wagon floor, and there’s not a cloud in the sky. It couldn’t possibly rain again.”

  They pulled their sleeping bags to a grassy little dip in the ground and settled in. After Lisa and Carole had said good night, Stevie lit the oil lamp and reached for her journal. Her body was tired, but her mind was still wide awake from all the fun she’d had.

  Day Three

  Today was the best day yet. After a rainy, sleepless night, we woke up to beautiful weather. All our work went a lot easier, and we traded off jobs several times during the afternoon. After lunch Carole milked the cow and gave everyone fresh milk. At the campfire tonight I told two of my favorite ghost stories. The last one scared that little creep Eileen so much she began to cry, but I don’t care. After her stunt with the horses, it’s exactly what she deserves. Most of the people on this trip are really nice, and the campfire tonight was the most fun yet.

  She read over her words and smiled. This journal had been a great idea. She could read these pages when she was eighty and remember what a wonderful time she’d had. She stuffed the little book under her pillow and blew out the lamp, but instead of rolling over to sleep, she folded her arms beneath her head and stared up into the sky. A fragrant breeze was blowing from the southwest, and overhead a billion stars twinkled in the heavens. She sighed and thought of Phil. Somewhere, perhaps a thousand miles away, he’s probably lying in a sleeping bag near a river, tired from a day of rafting and fun, just like I’m tired from a day of wagon training and fun. Even when we’re far away from one another, we’re doing exactly the same thing at the same time. Sighing happily, she started to gaze at one star that had a reddish twinkle and remembered what Carole had said about absence making the heart grow fonder. She pictured Phil’s warm smile; then suddenly Gabriel’s face flashed before her. She frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen! Suddenly she heard a whisper.

  “Stevie? Why are you still awake?”

  Stevie turned and looked at Lisa. “I don’t know. I just am.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Yeah, Stevie,” Carole chimed in. “I could tell you weren’t asleep, too.” She sat up in her sleeping bag.

  Stevie raised herself on one elbow. “Actually, I was thinking about Phil. About how neat it is that he and I are probably a thousand miles apart but we’re still doing exactly the same thing. You know, sleeping under the stars and everything.”

  “That is neat,” agreed Lisa.

  Then Stevie sighed again and idly snapped a button on her sleeping bag. “But I was also thinking about Gabriel.”

  “Gabriel?” Lisa asked in disbelief.

  Stevie nodded. “You know how annoying he is—how he puts on that Mr. Superior attitude and struts around here like some movie cowboy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, there’s something else, too. I mean, have you ever noticed how blue his eyes get when he’s being such a jerk? And how when he’s acting his worst he grins the most mischievous grin in the world? And have you seen the way he wears his hat?”

  “Stevie!” Lisa cried. “You’ve got a crush on him!”

  “Shhh!” Stevie hissed. “
Don’t talk so loud! The whole camp’s going to hear you! And besides, I don’t have a crush on him. I just think he’s kind of interesting, in a way. Don’t you think so?”

  “Sure,” said Carole. “He’s fascinating if you like an obnoxious jerk who thinks he knows everything and doesn’t mind telling you about it.”

  “And if you like someone who assumes you’re the dumbest person in the world before you’ve even said a word,” Lisa added.

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s that bad.” Stevie turned and vigorously fluffed her pillow.

  Lisa shook her head. “Look. If we’re sitting here in the middle of the night having a conversation about whether or not Gabriel is cute, then we definitely didn’t get enough sleep last night! We’re so tired, we’re probably not thinking straight, and five-thirty in the morning is going to be here in about five minutes.”

  “She’s right.” Carole flopped back down in her sleeping bag. “I’m going to sleep. Stevie, you’ll have to figure out Gabriel’s cuteness quotient all by yourself.”

  “Okay, okay,” Stevie said as her friends rolled over and went to sleep. She snuggled down in her own sleeping bag and closed her eyes, but her mind spun with thoughts of Phil and Gabriel. Okay, she told herself, so you find that a basically obnoxious boy has some attractive features. So what? It doesn’t mean you have some big-deal crush on him. You just realize that jerks can have nice qualities, too. She looked over at Carole and Lisa. You certainly don’t have to make excuses to your friends for that. But—she frowned as she looked at Carole—didn’t Carole say that absence would make my heart grow fonder? If my heart’s growing fonder of Phil, then why are my eyes suddenly starting to wander? And what if Phil’s eyes are wandering just like mine? What if a thousand miles away there’s some cute Ms. Know-It-All on his rafting trip? Or maybe she isn’t Ms. Know-It-All. Maybe she’s Ms. Cuter-and-Smarter-Than-Me. Maybe she’s even a better rider! Stevie sat up straight in her sleeping bag, her heart thudding. What if Phil’s a thousand miles away falling in love with someone else?