Distant Heart

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Distant Heart Page 2

by Tracey Bateman


  The wagon master kept his gaze focused on the western horizon, even though the darkness obscured any view. His jaw clenched.

  Whatever it was, his friend needed coaxing to share. And Sam didn’t coax. He figured a man had a right to his own thoughts and unless he chose to open up, it was no one else’s business what was going on in his head.

  Blake breathed another heavy sigh. “I wish we could go around the fort.”

  “We can.” Sam looked at him askance. “You’re in charge.”

  Pursing his lips, Blake appeared to consider the thought for a minute. He shook his head. “No. Folks haven’t had a break from the trail in too many weeks. And two of Captain Randall’s hunters came back with two antelope. They’ve been roasting them. The scouts have told us the women at the fort are preparing for a real feast tomorrow when we arrive.”

  Again, Sam kept silent. And Blake continued. “Maybe a diversion’ll stop the petty arguments we’ve been having to put up with. That Kane puppy is just one issue lately. There’s the squalling Jenkins baby that keeps everyone within ten wagons either way awake half the night, the heat is getting to everyone, and the thought of climbing the mountains soon has the whole company nervous. Not to mention those pesky redskins.”

  Sam nodded. “I was thinking of holding a prayer service before we move on from Fort Laramie. You have a problem with that idea?”

  Blake gave his hat a two-fingered shove and swiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. “Might not be a bad idea. We’ll need all the extra help from above we can get.”

  A barking flash of black and gray fur tore out past them. Blake let up a growl. “Especially if Kane doesn’t do something about that dadblamed dog.”

  Two

  Weary and travel-worn, the pioneers slowly rolled toward the fort. Everyone breathed a little easier when the soldiers appeared at midday to escort them the rest of the way. In the absence of any further threat from the Cheyenne, spirits were beginning to lift and Blake had allowed for walking alongside the wagons. As long as no one drifted off.

  Toni would have loved nothing more than to climb down from the narrow wagon seat and stretch her legs, but she didn’t dare take the time. She grappled for her shears, as the oxen jerked to the side, tossing her hard on the seat. She held on as the wagon dipped and swayed in the deep ruts of the well-worn trail, making it awfully difficult for Toni to sew a straight line. Some might call her crazy for even attempting such a feat under these harsh conditions. But she was determined to finish Fannie’s wedding gown before they reached the fort.

  “Is Blake sure there’s a preacher at the fort?” she asked.

  On the wagon seat next to her, Fannie gripped the reins in a white-knuckle hold, fighting the lumbering team of oxen as they struggled to keep their footing. “That’s what he said.” She gave her a quick glance and rolled her eyes. “Apparently that information was part of the scouting expedition.”

  The first burst of laughter in days made its way through Toni’s throat. “He certainly isn’t a man to be deterred from his goal, is he?”

  “Just like you.” She nodded to the gown. “I don’t know how on earth you’re making such lovely stitches with the wagon moving so much.”

  Pleased with the compliment, Toni smiled at her friend. “If you’re determined to marry Blake before we reach Oregon, then I’m determined you will not do so in those dusty trousers you insist upon wearing.”

  “There’s always the blue gown Edna cut down for me.”

  “Ah, yes, the night the last group of starry-eyed couples got married. Still, I don’t think you want to get married in a hand-me-down, do you?”

  Fannie wrinkled her freckled nose. “Not really.”

  “Well, then. My task is all too clear.” Toni sent her an affectionate smile. “Sam said we’ll be circling the wagons within the next three hours. If I know your stubborn Mr. Tanner, he’ll be hauling you off toward the fort before the oxen are unhitched. So stop distracting me.”

  “So-rry, Lady.” Fannie swatted at the oxen with the reins, and laughed almost a giddy sort of laugh. The joy in Fannie’s voice left an ache of gratitude in Toni’s heart. Fannie deserved all the happiness life could bring her. Thank God Fannie had escaped Tom before he had broken her spirit. The way George and every other man who had ever abused Toni had finally beaten her down.

  Toni knew she’d had a close call with that last beating. George had truly almost killed her. But never again. He was out of her life for good. Blake and Sam…and God…had seen to that.

  And after all these years of entertaining men so that George could line his pockets, she had finally won. Yes. She, Toni Rodden, had finally won for the first time in her twenty-two years—or at least for the first time in the last seven years since she’d foolishly believed a man and left the safety of her pa’s house.

  She mopped at her sweat-soaked neck and wished like the dickens an errant cloud would cover the sun, if only for five minutes. A little relief from the torturous heat. Even a soaking cloud burst would be more than welcome.

  On miserable days, such as this one, it was difficult for the travelers to remember that summer heat would soon give way to autumn. Then things would cool down probably more than they wished for considering how many times the train had been delayed. According to Sam and Blake, there was some concern about the train’s ability to get through the mountains before the snows became too heavy.

  But in heat as sweltering as this, most folks weren’t looking that far ahead. For now tempers were as short as the days were long and it didn’t take much to set anyone off. Feuds sprang up left and right, the most notable among them between Zach Kane and Curtis Adams—all because of a dead chicken.

  Lucille, Curtis’s wife, swore up and down that Zach’s half-wolf pup had killed the fowl and Curtis had no reason to disbelieve his wife. The two men had come close to a duel before Blake put a stop to the foolishness. The travelers, in desperate need of a distraction, had begun to take sides. A dead chicken and a naughty pup had split a 250-member wagon train down the middle. Toni had to shake her head at the nonsense, although secretly she figured pups will be pups, keep the chickens in a pen and they won’t be eaten until you’re ready to eat them yourself. Still, such foolishness to allow a couple of animals to cause this much emotional upheaval.

  Thankfully, for today, an unspoken truce remained in effect. Folks had other things on their minds. The Indians. And Fort Laramie, for instance. Even yesterday’s threat couldn’t dampen their spirits for the wonderful distraction that lay just ahead. And beyond that, the mountains, and beyond that…Oregon. The promised land.

  Before leaving Hawkins, Kansas, Toni had imagined that land of milk and honey as her new beginning. A husband. Children. All the things a woman held in her heart from childhood. Although most scoffed at the notion of a “soiled dove” attracting any man willing to spend more than a few hours in her bed, let alone a lifetime with her, she had held out hope. Cautiously, but hope nonetheless.

  But now that her beauty was marred, she’d forever buried those romantic notions. If she didn’t have her beauty, what would she have to offer? Not enough to cover up her past. Her current ambitions hinged on two things: her skills as a seamstress and the short memories of her fellow travelers. Now that she was no longer a threat for their husbands’ attention, she hoped the women of the train would begin to extend mercy and not always sweep aside their skirts when they saw her coming.

  Eventually, she wanted to own a little dress shop. Until then, she could mend tears and make shirts for men who were without wives or mothers to sew for them. But none of that would happen if she couldn’t make a fresh start in folks’ minds.

  Toni sewed the last stitch of Fannie’s wedding gown moments before the walls of Fort Laramie became the left flank of the wagon train and the order filtered down the line, “Circle the wagons!”

  “Here comes Two-Feathers.” Fannie’s words brought Toni’s head up just as she snipped the loose thread w
ith a relieved sigh. She smiled a welcome to the sinewy scout. In spite of herself, Toni never failed to marvel at the sight of Sam astride his horse. If ever a more handsome man existed, she had yet to meet him. And she’d known more men than she cared to count.

  “The Captain has invited all the ladies to sleep in the barracks tonight.”

  Toni’s eyes narrowed. “Why would we want to do that?”

  Sam’s brow creased into a frown, then his hazel eyes shone with understanding. “He thought you might enjoy sleeping indoors on army cots instead of on the ground or inside the wagon on a pallet.”

  Heat seared Toni’s cheeks. Of course the offer wasn’t meant as a proposition of any kind. What must Sam think of her for even imagining such a thing? Still, wouldn’t anyone with her past naturally be suspicious of any man who offered her his bed? In her experience, most men would have been in the bed as well.

  “You don’t have to do it,” Sam assured her in his soft, gentle tone. “Many women will choose to remain with their husbands.”

  “What about the children?” Fannie asked, her voice tight and wrought with irritation. “Or are the women to leave them behind for their men to look after?

  Toni had noticed over the last few miles that Fannie’s temper had grown shorter. She expected the new-bride giddiness was beginning to give way to wedding-night jitters. She didn’t blame her. Fannie’s experience with men had been limited to an enormous pig of a man with bad breath and cruel intentions. But hopefully, the love of a truly good man—and Blake was that, even if he didn’t have any use for Toni—would show Fannie that the bed of marriage was different. Marriage was no guarantee, but she prayed it would be so for Fannie.

  Poor Sam blinked and seemed at a loss for words. Toni was sure he hadn’t expected to be faced with a suspicious ex-prostitute and a jittery bride-to-be. They could have been a little more gracious, she supposed.

  “Are the mothers to bring their children with them, Sam?” Toni urged.

  He nodded, apparent relief swathing his chiseled features. “All girls may accompany their mothers, also the boys under the age of six.”

  That sounded logical. Most of the rough-and-tumble camp boys would have howled with dismay at the very thought of being banished to quarters with the women. Still, she seriously doubted many of the mothers of such small boys would leave them to the mercy of their fathers.

  Toni smoothed the fabric on her lap and cleared her throat. If they were going to have time for Fannie to try on the gown before dinner, they’d best get a move on with chores. “Thank you for letting us know, Sam.”

  “May I escort you into the fort when you’re ready, Miss Toni?”

  The offer came as a surprise to Toni. A welcome surprise. Maybe she hadn’t realized until this moment how nervous she was at the thought of walking into a fort filled with soldiers, many of whom hadn’t held a woman for a long time. Not that she expected much attention, but the thought made her nervous.

  “That would be lovely, Sam.” She smiled and wondered at his deepening complexion. Was that a blush? No. It couldn’t be. She dismissed the thought as he tipped his hat and rode away, sitting straight, almost regal, in the saddle.

  Weeks ago, Sam had made it abundantly clear that he had no right to think romantically of a woman like her. She understood. A former prostitute and a man of God like Sam. It would never work. He’d surely never see her as anything more than a woman in need of redemption.

  “Unless I miss my bet, you might be making your own wedding gown before long,” Fannie said with a nudge as she maneuvered the oxen into place.

  “Wedding?” Toni couldn’t hide the shock in her voice. “You know better than that. You were sitting right next to me when I told you how Sam felt.”

  “You mean…about not having any right to think of you that way?”

  “Exactly. A man like that isn’t going to look twice at a prostitute. Even if I wanted him to.”

  “Former prostitute,” Fannie corrected. “You’re not the same as you used to be. You’re a Christian now, you read your Bible and everything. If what Sam said is true, that past is gone and as far as God is concerned you’re as innocent as a newborn babe. And Sam’s got no right to hold your past against you.” Fannie’s voice rose as it did when her hot temper got the better of her.

  Toni appreciated the support, but this time no amount of anger or indignation could change the truth that was stacked against Toni’s future with a man as kind and good as Sam.

  “That might be true. But Sam’s not God.” Toni absently wrapped her hair around her finger then pulled it across her cheek. She really had tried to wear it up as Blake had suggested might be more fitting, but it was impossible to hide the scars with her hair pinned.

  “Let me put your hair up for you tonight,” Fannie suggested.

  Toni shook her head and fingered the raised scars. “I’d rather leave it down.”

  “I understand.” Fannie climbed down as her younger brother Kip rode his horse toward their wagon, his eyes bright and eager. “Blake said I can go to the fort as soon as I get the team unhitched and fed.”

  A frown creased Fannie’s brow. “He did? Without discussing it with me?”

  The boy gave a deep scowl. “I ain’t a baby.”

  “Maybe not,” Fannie said with firm resolve. “But no one has the right to tell you where you can and can’t go except for me. Not even Blake.” Fannie’s nerves, being on edge the way they were, obviously could take no more unexpected surprises—good or bad. Blake should have known better. The girl was getting into a lather over the situation.

  Toni climbed down from the wagon and looked directly at the boy. “What exactly did Blake say, Kip?”

  Rolling his eyes, he went to work on the leather straps. “Oh, well, he said Fannie has to say it’s okay.”

  “See, Fannie? Blake wasn’t trying to take over with Kip. Just relax.” Toni gave her a playful shove. “Now hurry and finish up your chores so we can get you ready.”

  A crooked grin tugged at Fannie’s lips as she realized she had nearly blown up at Blake for nothing. “All right. I’ll go gather up buffalo chips with the children. It won’t take long.”

  “I’ll have water ready for you to wash.”

  Kip began unhitching the team. “Blake said to tell you the women are excused from camp chores except for personal fires and animals. Since we’re eating at the fort.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of a wooded area on the other side of the train from where the fort sat. “There’s a lake over yonder. It’s not far, but no one can go alone. And at least one person has to carry a gun.”

  A happy bubble rose inside of Toni. “Are we allowed to bathe?”

  The twelve-year-old boy shrugged, too busy working on his chore to worry about such frivolous thoughts. He finished unyoking the beautiful red beasts and slapped them on the rump, sending them off to the center of the circle where they would be free to graze.

  “I’ll find out,” Fannie said swiftly. “I’m taking your horse.”

  “Careful not to spook him,” Kip warned. “He’s jumpy from all the excitement.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If you can handle him, I can.”

  Toni had no doubt her little friend was right. Fannie had endured more in her eighteen years than most women endured in a lifetime. She was grateful at least that the girl had only had to endure the abuses of one man. Toni, on the other hand, wasn’t able to look at a man without wondering how he intended to harm her. Every man except for Sam Two-Feathers.

  Dusk was beginning to fall and Sam’s stomach grumbled as the heady aroma of antelope roasting over slow-burning fires reached his nose in a most pleasing fashion. He figured Toni had been ready to go over an hour ago. Only he’d been delayed by one thing or another and was forced to keep her waiting.

  He’d already seen Fannie and Blake, accompanied by little Katie, wander hand in hand toward the wooden structure. In fact, the camp was more bare than he’d seen it since the train had set out.
Except for the guards, who had been tripled just in case the Cheyenne returned, very few people remained in camp. Although there had been no signs of the Indians, Blake still didn’t want to take any chances. And Sam agreed one hundred percent.

  He could kick himself for being so late. Toni must think he’d forgotten her, but in Blake’s absence, it was up to Sam to make sure the wagon train was secure. He’d been forced to resolve the latest skirmish between two of the young men vying for the attention of pretty Ruth Shewmate, who was traveling with her brother and his new wife. The whole train, Mrs. Shewmate especially, Sam suspected, hoped Ruth would make up her mind soon and marry one of the poor saps.

  As late as he was, Sam feared Toni might have gone on to the fort without him, and he wouldn’t be offended if she had. Still, he couldn’t help but be gratified when he reached the wagon and found her sitting on the wagon tongue staring pensively into the woods rather than in the direction of the fort.

  Before he could apologize, she glanced up and smiled. “You didn’t back out after all, I see.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  She gave a shrug and returned her attention to the sunset. “I just thought you might.”

  “Only a fool would give up the chance to escort the prettiest woman in the wagon train.”

  Without suffering him a glance she gave a humorless laugh. “You don’t have to flatter me, Sam.”

  “You’re very lovely, Miss Toni. But even more important than your outward appearance, you have an inward beauty. When I say you’re the most beautiful woman in the train, I mean it. In all ways, you’re a woman worthy of praise.”

  She smiled. “Because I fear the Lord?”

  Pleased, Sam smiled back and nodded. “You’ve been reading your Bible.”

  “Yes.” She gave a little laugh. “Although I’m not fully convinced the woman described in Proverbs 31 was a real woman. If she was, I’d love to meet her and ask her the secret to having it all.”

  “Perhaps you will meet her in heaven one day—if she was indeed a real woman.”

 

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