“Oh, much.” It was. No need for Inez Helmick. She might have known Clint could help her.
“So, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“You’ve just lost your husband and your baby. Don’t tell me fine.”
Clint’s blunt response reached the constant torment in her heart. Since the day her husband and son were buried, she’d mostly grieved to herself. How could she expect sympathy when everyone she knew was simply struggling to survive? “There is nothing worse in this world than losing a child.” Her voice quavered.
“I can only imagine what you’ve been through. You’ve been very brave.”
His deep understanding nearly brought her to tears. She swallowed hard. “Thank you for that. It hasn’t been easy.”
“Actually, for a city girl, I think you’re doing pretty well.”
She smiled. “Thank you for that, too.” His remark not only jerked her out of her gloomy mood, it caused a warm flood of feeling to course through her. So nice to hear praise for a change. She certainly got none from Abner. “I’m not like Mister Benton and his manifest destiny. I mean, I’m not out to expand The United States or any such thing. I just want to get where I’m going and find a place for Noah and me.” She laughed. “And then die in bed of old age, not from having my scalp removed by an Indian.”
He nodded agreeably. “I admire all you women. To endure what you do every day takes great courage.”
“This may surprise you, but in some ways this journey isn’t as hard as I thought.”
“It’s not? In what way?”
She paused to put her thoughts together. “Sometimes when we’re riding along and I see the beauty of the mountains we pass, and the rivers and forests, I realize these are all things I would never have seen had I stayed in Massachusetts. I wouldn’t have even known they were there.”
For a long time he didn’t speak. “West to catch the sunset,” he said in an odd yet gentle tone. “You see that now.”
“Oh, yes.” She looked around his wagon, crowded but neat. “I’ve never been in here before.”
“Well, I wonder why.” There was a trace of laughter.
“Umm, you’re right. Now it’s different. I’m not a married woman anymore.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You might as well be.”
She didn’t want to think about Abner right now. She sighed and searched for a change of subject. “Where’s Charlie?”
“Gone to try and find a trapper friend of his. I don’t expect him back until tomorrow.”
We’re alone. “Oh really?” She tried to sound casual.
He shot her a gaze that swept over her, soft as a caress. “Really.”
The look he gave her made her forget the pain from the scorpion’s sting. She grew acutely aware of her surroundings. Only a thin layer of canvas separated her from the world outside, yet she felt snug and warm, sitting on the bed in Clint’s wagon, listening to the soothing patter of the rain. “We’ve never been alone like this.”
He sank down beside her. “No, we haven’t.” He lifted a hand and touched her hair. No sunbonnet today. She wore it loose, streaming down her back. “I’ve wanted to be alone with you since Independence.” He thought a moment. “No, since Boston, when you were such a little snob.”
She began to laugh. “And said I would never set foot outside Suffolk County.”
He joined her laughter. When it stopped, he regarded her a moment, then his breath caught and his arms went around her. Almost of their volition, her hands slid around to the back of his buckskin coat. He pulled her close. She pressed her fingers into the broad shoulders she’d admired from afar for so long. Their lips crushed together in a kiss so long overdue that she felt him tremble and knew she was trembling, too. She returned his kiss with reckless abandon, her mind spinning in several directions at once. How wonderful to be in his arms. How incredible. She could hardly believe her impossible dream had finally come true.
When they finally broke apart, he looked into her eyes, his face only inches from hers. “I don’t want this to end.”
She understood his meaning. He was giving her a chance to say no. For a clearheaded moment she faced the fact that although the campsite was temporarily deserted, chances of discovery were still high. Like him, she didn’t want to stop. How could she when a crazy jumble of feelings were pouring through her? None had to do with caution. They were all about excitement, yearning, and her burning desire. “Neither do I.”
He gripped her wrists, lowered her all the way to the bed, and lay beside her. He began kissing her again, and she eagerly responded. Somewhere, during a frenzy of kisses, they undressed each other: first her dress went, then his coat, pants, and boots, finally her bloomers which, in a heavy-breathing moment for both of them, he slid slowly down her hips, over her silky mound, continued down over her legs, then clear off. She knew not where he tossed them, or cared.
“You’re beautiful.” He looked down on her, his eyes brimming with admiration.
She lay naked beneath him, basking in the warmth of his gaze, experiencing a wanton delight that every inch of her was exposed to his gaze. With his swelling manhood pressed hard against her hip, he began to swirl gentle fingers around her pink nipples, watched as they hardened, then with the lightest of touches, teased them harder still. The gentle massage sent currents of desire running through her, and when he whispered, “You have beautiful breasts. I’ve been wanting to kiss them,” her whole body throbbed. When he lowered his head and sucked her nipples, running his rough tongue over each in turn, her body arched, and the pleasure of it made her bite her lip to keep from crying out.
“Oh, that was good,” she gasped, “very, very good.”
“He took her hand and guided it to his manhood. “Hold on to this while I do some things to you.”
Heart pounding with excitement, she clasped the most intimate part of Clint Palance, marveling at how thick it was, how long, and how very, very hard. Next, just like he said, he began doing things to her, incredibly exciting things like running his thumb deliciously over her palm, nibbling at her ear, moving his hands magically here and there over her body. Often he returned to her breasts, where his hands roamed intimately, and he nibbled, sucked, and kissed until she thought the exquisite feeling would drive her mad.
She now experienced such ecstasy that she moaned, frantically eager for his next touch. When at last he slipped his hand between her legs, the sweet sensation of his fingers touching the most intimate part of herself was so intense ... “Oh, I can’t bear it. I need you inside me. Now! I shall die if you don’t.”
“Happy to oblige.” His voice was thick with passion. He reached to spread her legs apart, and she eagerly slid them open. Slowly he guided his shaft inside her, causing her to emit little groans of pleasure each time he moved. By now she’d abandoned all logical thought, her mind nothing more than a mass of delicious sensations, all centered on that pleasure spot where they were joined. At last, when he was all the way in, he paused and looked into her eyes. “Feel good?”
“Oh, yes, I’m in heaven. Don’t stop!”
“I won’t, not until you’re pleasured.”
“Oh, I’m pleasured all right,” she managed to gasp through her rapturous haze. “Do keep on.”
He began a series of rhythmic strokes, each one driving her to a higher arousal. In return, her hips rose and fell in a natural rhythm that matched his own. His own passion turned wild and hard until finally he stopped. “Are you almost there?”
“Yes!”
He drove in hard, pushing her over the brink into a sensation so fantastic, so incredibly wonderful she was forced to press her lips together, muffling her screams of ecstasy against his shoulder.
At the same time, he, too, experienced an explosive pleasure and soon lay spent and panting beside her.
While the rain pattered on the canvas above, they lay for she didn’t know how long, wrapped in each other’s arms, their beating hearts slowly returning to
normal. Finally, voices in the distance brought her back to the real world. She sat up. “I’d better go.”
“Yes, you had.” He immediately arose and pulled on his clothes. “I’ll be outside. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Alone in the wagon, she washed herself as best she could and pulled on her clothes, all but her right shoe. Her foot still throbbed from the scorpion sting. Funny, but when she was making love with Clint, she’d entirely forgotten. When she was ready, she called softly, “Is it clear?”
“It’s clear.”
She slipped from the wagon and took a quick look around the rain-soaked camp. No one was in sight except Clint. “It’s clear for the moment,” he said. “You’d better go.”
Her heart swelled. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but already her mind had turned to matters more practical. Time to start dinner ... Noah would soon be back ... where was Abner? Hard to believe only minutes ago she was in such a state she wouldn’t have cared if the whole world had seen her making love with Clint. Now apprehension coursed through her. What if Agnes had seen her? What if Abner found out? What if ...? No more euphoria; she was back on earth again.
“Goodbye.” She gave a wicked little smile. “Whenever I see a scorpion, I shall think of you.”
Not waiting for his reply, she hobbled away, wondering how she could’ve been so flippant with the man who’d just turned her whole world upside down. Carried away on the wings of love. Yes, she had been, and yes, she knew there’d be sleepless nights ahead when she remembered the sheer bliss she’d experienced on this bleak, rainy afternoon.
“Lucy, what happened to you?”
Damnation! Agnes’ voice. Lucy turned to see her gossipy friend’s head sticking out of her tent.
What happened to me? Well, if you must know, I just finished making mad, passionate love with Clint Palance right under your very nose. By the way, do you have any idea how large he is? It was so long and hard it drove me wild. In fact, he’s such a good lover, I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming and waking the whole camp up. It was just so wonderful. So what do you think of that, Agnes!
“I got stung by a scorpion.”
“Oh, you poor dear. It must have been terrible, getting stung like that.”
“Yes, it was pretty bad, all right. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another, isn’t it?”
“It’s just awful, the hardships we must endure.”
“You’re so right.” Lucy nodded her head in solemn agreement and hobbled on her way.
A few days later when the wagon train was underway again, Noah called, “Look, Ma, what’s that?” Seated on the wagon seat between Benjamin and Lucy, he pointed to the distant horizon where a lone pillar of rock reached toward the sky.
“I don’t know what that is.”
Just then Charlie Dawes appeared, pacing his horse to the slow plodding of the oxen. “Son, that there is Chimney Rock. They call it a great natural wonder.”
“Why do they call it a chimney?” Noah asked.
“Because when you get up close, it looks like one. It looks close now, don’t it? You ain’t going to reach it for two more days. It’s the first of our landmarks. It tells us we’re five hundred and some odd miles from where we started. Folks like to climb it, at least the lower part. After we pass it, Fort Laramie’s just three days away.”
Abner rode up. In his usual brusque fashion he inquired, “What’s going on?”
Charlie’s eyes shifted to Abner. “We’re talking about Fort Laramie. By the way, we’ll need two or three days’ rest when we get there.”
Abner stiffened, as Lucy knew he would. His hard-driving ways drew many protests, but he kept insisting they move at as fast a pace as possible. “We must not waste time.”
“The folks need a break. There’s plenty of wood at Fort Laramie, and grass and water. The people can trade at the fort and bathe and wash their clothes.” Charlie Dawes, until now always congenial, regarded Abner with a hard glint in his eye. “I highly recommend you stop for a couple of days. Otherwise ...”
“Otherwise what?”
“These people are tired and worn. They’ve still got a long way to go, and they need a couple of days to get clean, buy some food, give their animals a good feed, and get their spirits back up. Plain and simple, there’s going to be trouble if you don’t let them rest.”
Abner’s jaw clenched. His lips pinched tight. “I shall keep your advice in mind, but may I remind you the final decision is mine?”
After Charlie shrugged, gave a curt goodbye, and rode off, Lucy couldn’t keep silent. “You’d better listen to what he says. We’re so in need of a rest, and—”
“God and I shall be the judge of that, not you.”
Lucy knew better than to waste another word, even though she was hearing constant rumblings of unrest and dissatisfaction with Abner’s leadership. Surely he sensed how unpopular he’d become. She’d even heard rumors many in the party wanted him deposed and another leader elected.
Better than anyone, she could understand why.
“Ain’t this grand?” exclaimed Hannah. “Two whole days in Fort Laramie.” She, Lucy, and other women from the party, pails in hand, strolled toward the thick woods near the fort to pick berries.
“We surely need the rest.” No need to mention the heated argument Lucy had overheard between Abner and the members of the council. A shouting William Applegate threatened to depose Abner as leader if he didn’t allow a two-day rest in Fort Laramie. All the other men agreed. Lucy silently applauded when Abner finally gave in to the pressure.
Fort Laramie, situated on a tongue of land formed by the junction of the Laramie and North Platte Rivers, offered a heavenly abundance of water. How wonderful to wash all over and feel really clean! Lucy had spent an enjoyable day with her women companions, bathing, cleaning out their wagons, and washing all their clothes, while Abner joined the men in mending wagons and equipment, and turning the cattle out to graze on the plentiful grass. Now, in the late afternoon, she strolled toward the woods feeling better than she’d felt for days ... weeks! She wore a newly laundered blue calico dress and left the hated sunbonnet behind. How nice, the carefree feel of her freshly washed hair falling loose around her shoulders.
She wished Clint could see her now. Since they had made love in his wagon, he’d constantly been on her mind. She longed to be with him, away from prying eyes, but the chances of that happening again were slim to none.
She pulled her thoughts back to earth. “I’m going to make a berry pie for dinner, and one for Bessie,” she called out to Hannah, Agnes, Martha, and Inez when they spread out to collect berries. Poor Bessie, who was near her time, remained behind.
Engrossed in her berry picking, Lucy soon found herself alone, although she hardly noticed, so intent was she on filling her pail with the plump gooseberries and chokeberries she found in great quantities. Finally, when she had filled her pail to the brim, she stopped, raised her head, and looked around. Surprised, she found high walls on either side of her and realized she must have worked her way into a canyon filled with tall trees and thick undergrowth. Where was she? How still it was. Where were the others?
“Agnes?” she called. “Hannah? Martha? Inez?”
No answer. Only her own words echoed back at her. She called again, louder, and listened intently, but the only sounds she heard were the caws of a passing raven, the gurgle of a brook, and the rustle of soft wind through tall pine trees.
“You can’t be lost,” she muttered to herself, annoyed but not alarmed. Her friends couldn’t be far. All she had to do was retrace her steps, and she’d be sure to find them.
Which way? Clutching her pail of berries, she turned in a slow circle and tried to decide which way she’d come. Trouble was, each bush looked like another, and each tree looked like the next. She had no idea which way to go.
“Agnes?” she yelled at the top of her voice, more impatient now. “Hannah? Inez?” No comforting reply, but she st
ill felt no alarm. She’d find that creek she heard and follow it, and in no time she’d be back with her friends.
She followed the sound of flowing water and soon found a gurgling brook flowing over moss-covered stones, edged by tiny violets and moss roses. How pretty. She’d like her friends to see it, but meanwhile, should she go upstream or downstream? She had no idea. Downstream, she supposed. That was as good a guess as any.
She started walking, finding the way easy going at first because she could follow along the bank. Farther along, the underbrush was so thick in places that she had to wade through the creek in order to get around it. She kept a firm grip on her pail, though. Bessie would have her pie. And Noah, too, and Henry and Benjamin. Even Abner.
Over and over, she called her friends’ names, but no one answered. She had no idea of the time, but it seemed an hour at least that she’d struggled down the stream with no end in sight. She wondered how she could have wandered so far. Surely, she should’ve found someone by now. She glanced up at the sun and saw it was about to set behind one wall of the canyon. That meant she was facing west. But from which direction had she come? She didn’t know, and soon darkness would set in.
Now she recalled the warning she’d been given at the fort. Don’t stray too far. Indians ... grizzly bears ... snakes!
A sudden fright overcame her. Soon she’d be all alone in the dark, lost in the wilderness. She sank to the ground, her back to a tree, her heart pumping with fright. She had no place to run, no place to hide, no weapon of any kind. So vulnerable anything could get her! Her mind racing, she remained absolutely still against the tree, terrified something monstrous would leap from the bushes at any moment and pounce on her.
Just then, she heard a slight rustling in the bushes. Must be her imagination. Again a rustling. She turned her head toward the sound and saw, not six feet away, the glittering black eyes of a snake staring straight at her. Panic like she’d never known welled in her throat. Run! cried a little voice within her. Get up and run! But her body refused to cooperate. The snake, its body a blotched mixture of yellow, gray, and brown, left the bushes and slithered straight toward her. She let out a small scream, pressed her back to the tree. In the wink of an eye, the snake wound into a menacing coil, its head swaying back and forth, forked tongue flicking rapidly. She heard a funny sound. Rattles! A rattlesnake! She could hardly breathe.
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