Toni’s heart leapt at the thought. “Sam has better things on his mind than worrying about a spinster, former prostitute setting her cap for him. I respect him too much to put him in that position.”
“He could do worse.”
The praise lit a candle inside of Toni and she knew she must be glowing. “Thank you, Miss Sadie. He might could do worse, but he could also most definitely do much better. I wouldn’t take that chance away from him.”
The sound of crashing footsteps caused Toni to shoot to her feet.
“I swear!” Ginger sloshed into camp and sat, yanking her moccasins off.
“Ginger! You scared me half to death. What happened?” Toni asked, trying to hide a grin as she looked over the girl’s bedraggled appearance.
“Those women,” she sputtered. “That’s the last time I protect them while they take a bath.”
“For goodness sakes, are you going to tell me what happened, or aren’t you?”
“Ain’t it obvious?” she grabbed her braid and began wringing water.
“You fell in the river?” Miss Sadie ventured a guess.
“Ha!” Ginger continued wringing out her long braid that hung down past the curve of her waist. “Those ungrateful, mean-spirited women ganged up on me and derned if they didn’t throw me right in.”
Toni burst into peals of merry laughter. “Serves you right. When was the last time you had a bath?” When she’d given Ginger the new clothes, she’d had high hopes the young woman would continue to exhibit good bathing habits. But the opposite had proven true. And apparently she wasn’t the only one getting tired of it.
“I just had one two weeks ago!”
“Most women will take one at any given opportunity. Don’t you want to smell nice?”
“You sayin’ I don’t?” Ginger’s brow puckered in anger.
That was an extremely loaded question. Toni searched for a way around it without being blunt. “I’m saying anyone who doesn’t take a bath on a regular basis or at the very least use a cloth and wash up, is going to give off a certain unpleasant odor.”
“I don’t believe it. I just plumb don’t believe it. You do think I stink.”
“Simmer down,” Miss Sadie said. “Come here, young lady. Help me get up.”
Whether she was too stunned to refuse or just didn’t know what to say, Ginger sloshed over to where the older woman sat and extended her hand.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ginger mumbled.
“May I?” Miss Sadie asked, grasping Ginger’s arm.
“What are you gonna do?”
Toni had to admit, she too was intrigued.
“You’ll see.” Lickety split, Miss Sadie raised Ginger’s arm. “Take a whiff.”
Even Toni, who thought she’d seen everything there was to see, was shocked. Ginger’s face blanched for a second and then turned scarlet. “There ain’t no sense insulting me.”
“Now listen.” Miss Sadie let go of Ginger’s wrist. “No one is trying to insult you, but for a lovely young woman, such as yourself, to walk around dirty and smelling offensively when there is a perfectly good body of water right next to us, is shameful. There is no excuse, if you want to be decent and respectable.”
“Well…”
Toni peered closer, taking in the first sight of vulnerability in Ginger. Was her lip actually trembling? “I-I gotta go do somethin’.”
With that, Ginger stomped away.
“Well,” Toni said with a sigh. “At least you tried, Miss Sadie. May I walk you back to your wagon?”
Miss Sadie smiled. “I might be on in years, but I can carry myself home. Thank you, though. You’re a good girl.”
Toni watched the widow walk toward her own wagon. Miss Sadie was right. She had already lived her life with a husband and children, so the thought of spending the rest of her days alone didn’t seem like such a tragedy.
Regret twisted inside Toni. Regret that she would never marry and raise children of her own. The pain was almost unbearable.
“Please, Lord,” she whispered. “Help me be content to walk the road you’ve laid out for me.” But the road seemed so long, so winding, and so steep, she wondered how on earth she would ever endure.
Sleep eluded Sam as unease filled him. It was difficult to decide whether or not he was sensing danger—such as from Swooping Eagle. Or whether the tension in the train between those who thought the dog should go and those who thought the chickens should be penned was merely worrying him more than necessary.
A howl in the distance jolted him upward. He listened again. Another howl. Standing, he placed his hand on his gun. Blake stood next to the wagon he now shared with his wife.
“You heard?” Sam asked, walking the few feet from his bedroll to the wagon.
Blake nodded.
“Think it could be Swooping Eagle?”
“Could be. In any case, we can rule out wolves for that howling.”
Sam nodded. “We best keep extra guards on the women tonight.”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll see to it.”
As though by instinct, Sam turned toward Toni’s wagon. A shadow passed around the canvas on the outside of the wagon. His stomach turned. He crept close, careful to stay out of the light of the campfires so that he didn’t cast his own shadow.
It wasn’t probable Swooping Eagle would launch another attack such as the one he’d already lost. But to send in warriors in twos or threes to kidnap his original target was highly likely and something Sam had been anticipating. He only wondered why it had taken the chief this long. He must have been wounded worse than Sam thought.
He continued his stealthy pursuit until he reached the wagon. The shadow was walking away from the wagon, not toward it. That could only mean one thing. The Cheyenne chief was no longer interested in kidnapping. Revenge was on his mind. Sam tried to swallow along a dry throat as fear gripped him. The thought of anyone harming Toni filled him with terror, but he knew he couldn’t act rashly. Please, Lord. She’s been through so much already. Don’t let our enemy win over us. He moved quietly, but quickly, determined to do whatever it took to help the Almighty keep Toni safe.
Twelve
Toni woke with a start and sat up with the uneasy feeling something wasn’t right. Instinct, born of years of having to look out for herself, shot through her and she scanned the darkened wagon searching for anything that might be out of place.
One thing in particular caught her attention. Where was Ginger? The girl knew better than to go off alone. Especially at night. Toni moved stealthily through the wagon until she reached the opening in the canvas, pulled it aside, and slipped her head and shoulders out. “Ginger!” she hissed.
A hand clapped over her mouth. Toni’s muffled scream tore through her throat as she was pulled through the wagon opening and landed almost gently on her feet. The hand remained firmly in place while another arm kept her firmly caged against a rock-hard body. Toni fought against the contracting muscles of her captor’s arm.
“Shh. Toni!” Hot breath wisped her hair against her ear. “It’s Sam.”
White relief flowed over her and she leaned back against his warm chest. Strong arms encircled her from behind. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “Do not be afraid. I am taking my hand away.”
“Sam, for Mercy’s sake.” Toni turned in his arms as relief gave way to quandary. “Why did you pull me out of the wagon that way? I thought you were trying to kidnap me.” She swatted his chest with the back of her hand.
Sam covered her hand, then held it. “I’m sorry. It was the fastest way I knew to keep you from screaming.” He kept his voice low. “I saw someone walking from your wagon.”
Keenly aware of her hand tucked inside of Sam’s, Toni slipped her fingers free. There were too many emotions swirling around her chest and no time to think about what they meant.
“Ginger’s missing,” she said. “Maybe she’s the one you saw.”
Sam nodded. �
�Probably. But I had better go find out.” He expelled a heavy breath. “No one is supposed to leave camp. So if she wasn’t taken against her will, she will have some explaining to do.”
“I agree. It’s difficult to tell Ginger anything.”
“You’d best climb back inside while I go look for her.”
Toni shook her head. “I’m coming with you.”
Sam stopped and turned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You would be safer here in the circle of the wagons.”
Toni couldn’t deny the earnestness in Sam’s eyes, but she couldn’t quite believe she’d be safer if she stayed at the wagon. As a matter of fact, she never felt more protected than when she was with Sam. Of course she’d never admit it. But she still didn’t enjoy the thought of staying behind while Sam wandered off through the dark to find Ginger.
“I’m going.”
Sam paused. “All right. Stay close.”
Sam knew there were more people in the woods than Ginger, Toni, and himself. Ginger was most definitely speaking with someone. And thirty yards away, someone else listened just the same as he and Toni were doing. That worried him a little. Of course, he knew they weren’t Indians. Cheyenne warriors wouldn’t be so obvious. So that was good news. But the threat of outlaws was still a genuine concern.
He placed his finger to his lips. Toni nodded. Her quiet acceptance never failed to speak to him and give him confidence in her wisdom. He moved one step forward, but at the sound of a splash, he picked up his steps and rushed toward the river, with Toni close on his heels. They entered the clearing the same time as Grant Kelley. “What’s going on?”
“The girl’s having a much needed bath.” The three of them whipped about at the same time to find Miss Sadie standing against a tree, holding a pile of clothes.
“Miss Sadie!” Sam felt the indignation to his core. “What in thunderation are you doing out here? You know the rules.”
“Hogwash.” She said with a snort. “Rules don’t apply to me.”
“I wonder what Blake would say about that,” Grant spoke up.
“Are you okay, Miss Sadie? Who’s with you?” Ginger called from the water.
“I’m all right, hon. It’s just Sam, Mr. Kelley, and Toni. I’m guessing they were worried about you. I told you you shouldn’t have gone off alone.”
“Toni! You shouldn’t be out here. Them redskins could be back any minute.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m with Sam.”
Irritation fled at her simple statement. This woman…Sam knew for the first time someone had come into his life with the capacity to break his heart. He also had no doubt that heartbreak was the only outcome for him if he allowed himself to think with a white man’s heart. Because the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t a white man. Not completely. And the half of him that carried Sioux blood was the half that the world would never allow to be with a woman like Toni Rodden.
Lord, guard my heart. Don’t let me move out of my own desires. Please help me to keep what’s best for Toni in mind.
Even if that meant he had to let her go. His next prayer beseeched God for strength to do just that. But only if there was no other way.
Toni’s body ached as the wagon flung her all over the wagon seat. Ginger had actually talked Blake into allowing her to join the scouts, so once again Toni was back to doing all the driving. For the last three days, she’d had no respite from the endless beating her body got from wrestling with the oxen in the deep-rutted road that was gradually, but visibly ascending.
Worse still, her wagon had fallen toward the end of the line in rotation and she couldn’t see Sam as he rode along with Blake toward the front of the line. When commotion ahead caught her attention, she welcomed the change in scenery. “What is it?” she called to Amanda Kane, who walked close by. The woman had practically been connected to Toni since she saved the half-wolf pup.
“Looks like wagons are coming this way.”
“Coming? Like turning back? Why on earth…?”
Amanda gave a lift of her too-thin shoulders. “It would appear so. Wolfie, stay!” Surprisingly, the puppy inched faithfully back to her side. Happy to be off the rope. As though he knew he’d had a close call, he had been getting into less trouble since the last chicken incident. “How did you get him to obey?” Toni asked, as curiosity got the better of her.
Mrs. Kane grinned. “Alfie.”
“Alfie?”
“Alfred Harrison. He’s a wonder with animals.” Mrs. Kane’s face held a softness Toni hadn’t noticed in the woman since before Becca’s death.
“He’s a special young man, isn’t he?”
She smiled and nodded, then her face clouded over. “I wish his own pa could see that. The man barely even notices he has children.”
The fact wasn’t news to Toni. Or anyone who had paid attention. “Mr. Harrison isn’t mean to him, is he?”
“Oh, no. Doesn’t seem to be. Mainly he ignores those children. Both of them. I reckon he’s too grieved to know how to take care of them. You know their ma did all of the looking after them before she was killed.” She stared off across the horizon. “If they were mine…” Her expression dropped and she jerked her chin quickly before Toni could respond. “Oh, look. Blake’s calling a halt so he can talk to the other wagon.”
Toni made a mental note to pray harder for Amanda. The poor woman had endured more than any human being should have to endure in two lifetimes let alone one short life.
Sam and Blake spoke with someone who appeared to be the leader of the other group of travelers for at least twenty minutes, and at the end of their discussion the trains maneuvered into one large circle.
Toni climbed down from the wagon and stretched her back. Finding little relief, she went straight to work. No sense putting off the difficult task of unhooking the oxen and setting them loose to graze in the center of the wagon circle.
The oxen had been noticeably slower. Partly, Toni knew, due to the ascent of the train. But also, the rocky terrain bruised their feet so going was slower than it had been on the grassy plains of Kansas and the land before Fort Laramie.
She bent to unharness the oxen from the wagon. Her hands still hadn’t callused back over completely and the blisters of the early days on the trail were re-forming, causing burning, raw sores on her palms and fingers.
She straightened to find a grinning Alfred standing in front of the oxen. Whispering and patting one of the enormous beasts as though it was no larger than a puppy, Alfred actually seemed to understand the animals.
“How are you, Alfred?”
“Good. I like ox.”
“You do?” Toni patted the lad’s shoulder as she walked around him to remove the yoke.
He nodded. “I’ll do it.”
“It’s okay, Alfred. You don’t have to.”
His face clouded with disappointment. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, still staring at the oxen.
“You want to?” Toni asked.
Brown eyes lit and he nodded.
“All right. If you’re sure.”
In minutes, the boy had turned the oxen out to graze. He lifted his arm to her and waved his goodbye.
“Thanks again, Alfred.”
“Okay, bye.”
Ginger arrived riding astride a large, black mare named Tulip. The horse was cantankerous and stubborn—a perfect match for Ginger as far as Toni was concerned.
“Dadburn horse,” the girl muttered as she reined in with difficulty and dismounted. “I ought to shoot it and get me another one.”
Toni smiled. As much as Ginger complained, she loved that animal as much as Alfred loved Wolf and she’d defend it within an inch of her own life.
“So what’s going on up there?” Toni asked. If anyone would know, Ginger would have found a way to worm the information out of Sam or Blake.
Ginger jerked her thumb toward the other wagon. “Your Indian.”
“Sam?”
Ginger’s face went blank, then her li
ps twisted into a wry grin. “Sam’s your Indian?”
Realizing her mistake, Toni felt the humiliation to her toes. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. What do you mean my Indian?”
“The other train was attacked by the Cheyenne a few days ago.”
Toni’s heart nearly stopped. No wonder things had been so quiet from Swooping Eagle. He had moved on to wreak havoc with another group of travelers.
“How much damage did he do?”
Ginger shook her head, looping Tulip’s reins around the wagon tongue. “Bad. Twenty wagons were burned and eight men were killed. They took one woman and four young’uns.”
Toni drew in a sharp breath. That might have been her if Swooping Eagle had had his way. She envisioned the poor woman and children. They must be terrified. Were they being treated well? She shuddered as all kinds of images came to mind.
“Anyway,” Ginger continued. “The good news for us, according to Sam, is that those Indians are more than likely going to take their captives to their village. So we won’t have to worry about attack for awhile.”
“Is anyone going after the captives?”
“I think some of the men from the other train are discussing that with Blake.”
Toni scanned the circle until she spotted Sam. He and Blake were in deep conversation with the leader of the other wagon train and, as Ginger mentioned, several other men. Some spoke calmly, others with noticeable agitation. Her heart picked up a beat. What if Sam decided to join a search party? Blake couldn’t go. As the wagon master, his place was firmly with the wagon train. So Sam seemed the next logical person to help. He knew this country, after years of scouting for several trains.
Toni nodded as though answering her own question. “Sam’s going to go with them.”
Ginger followed her gaze. “Yep. Probably.”
“What if he gets hurt?”
“That’s his choice.”
“But…”
“But what, Toni? All you have to do is ask him not to go and he’d stay. The man loves you. Don’t you know that?”
“Oh, Ginger. You haven’t known Sam very long. He loves everyone. He’s much the way I imagine Jesus must have been when he was alive.”
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