Anger shot through Toni. She turned on Ginger. “I’m sick of you calling him that. He might be part Indian, but he’s a good man, the best man in the whole world. And if I was almost good enough for him, I’d marry him in half a second.”
“Good enough for him?” Ginger’s eyes narrowed. “Who says you ain’t good enough for him?”
“He does.” She braced her feet against the wagon floor and tried to keep her seat as the wagon swayed against the deep ruts in the trail.
“That’s hogwash and you know it.” Two deep lines appeared between Ginger’s eyes. “I’ve half a mind to go after him just to knock some sense into that thick head of his.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, it’s not hogwash,” she said pointedly. “And anyone with any brains knows it.”
“I ain’t stayin’ around here for you to insult me.”
“Good,” Toni groused, “I’m sick of choking on your dust anyway.”
Red with anger, Ginger rode away. Toni’s gut twinged with just a touch of guilt. The girl meant well, she knew. But for now, Toni was better off alone with her thoughts and bad mood.
Besides, it took all of her concentration to keep the oxen headed in the right direction. Their feet hurt from the rocks. She knew that and felt sorry for the beasts. Not only did the rocks bruise their feet, but they were forced to pull uphill. According to Blake, they’d be lucky to do five miles a day during this stretch of trail. Tensions were high and old feuds were returning to drive everyone crazy.
To compound things, Wolfie had been caught eating another chicken this very morning. But this time the intelligent pup had somehow gotten through the crate himself. So it truly was his fault and Amanda Kane had had a look of sheer terror on her face ever since the camp awoke and discovered the bloody, feathery mess. She tied Wolf to the wagon, but even Toni doubted that would be good enough now. The pup had been given too many chances.
At dusk, Blake called a halt for the day. Alfred appeared to take care of the oxen as he had each day, like clockwork. In the morning, he hitched the team for her; at the end of the day, he unhitched the team and set them out to graze. His sweet, cheerful countenance never failed to lift her spirits. Only tonight he went about his task with noticeably less gusto than usual.
“What’s the matter, Alfred?”
He shrugged and shook his head woefully. “I like that dog.”
Compassion squeezed Toni’s heart. “I know you do. Wolf’s a nice puppy. But he has to learn to be good. Doesn’t he?”
“He’s a good dog.”
“Good dogs don’t steal chickens.”
“Wolf don’t do that no more.” Alfred gave a deep sigh. “I taught him not to be bad.”
“But Alfred, remember Mr. and Mrs. Adams had the chickens?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, this morning they found one of the crates broken into and their last rooster dead.”
Alfred shook his head. “Wolf didn’t do it. He just ate it. He didn’t kill it.”
Toni smiled at the lad. He obviously couldn’t bear the thought of his friend being accused. And she didn’t blame him. “Well, maybe not.”
“Yeah. Maybe not.” Alfred’s face lit. “Mr. Kane was nice to give the rooster to him, huh?”
“No, sweetheart. He didn’t give the rooster to Wolfie. The dog took it from the crate.”
“I saw it.”
“Saw what Alfred?” Toni’s mind tried to wrap around what Alfred was saying. But something told her the puppy might have been framed for a murder he didn’t commit. She dropped her tone considerably and leaned ever so slightly toward the boy. “Did you see Mr. Kane give the chicken to Wolf?”
Alfred nodded in simple innocence but Toni’s heart raced. This meant more frustration, more quarrelling. Oh, Lord. That’s all we need. Please let this pass without too much trouble.
For a fleeting moment she thought she might keep this information from Blake. Let the puppy be killed and save herself and her fellow travelers the trouble that would surely come from knowing Mr. Kane killed the rooster and framed the dog.
She warmed some beans from last night’s pot and made a fresh batch of biscuits. Ginger liked them warm with honey, and since Toni felt like she owed her friend after snapping at her earlier, she pulled out their stash and decided to be generous with the sweet treat.
As much as she tried to forget her conversation with Alfred, Toni found it impossible. She honestly wasn’t the same woman she’d been just three and a half short months ago. The old Toni wouldn’t have a bit of conscience over saving the train some tension by sacrificing a dumb mutt. But when she scanned the train and found Alfred sitting crossed-legged in front of Wolf, while Mrs. Kane looked on, she knew she couldn’t allow it.
As luck would have it, Mr. Kane sauntered off from the wagon train just as darkness fell. Toni grabbed her shawl. “I’ll be back,” she said to Ginger.
“Where are you going?”
“To the woods.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Ginger. No,” she said. “I need privacy.”
“Oh, for mercy’s sake. I won’t look. But you know the rules. No one goes off alone.”
“Ginger, listen to me. Please respect my need for privacy.”
The woman frowned and looked as though she was about to refuse. But as her eyes perused Toni’s face, she nodded. “Everything all right, though?”
“It will be.” Toni smiled. “Trust me. And thanks.”
Stealthily, she followed Mr. Kane through the woods until they reached the river. He seemed to be waiting for someone, so Toni remained hidden. It didn’t take long for the mystery to be solved. In a moment of revulsion, she realized that Mr. Kane was meeting a woman—someone that wasn’t his wife. The two embraced and Toni thought she might be ill. Now wasn’t the time to confront the horrid man and she certainly wasn’t going to stay around to watch.
Behind her, the ground crackled, just as she turned on her heel to head back to the wagon. She gasped as she came face to face with Ginger. Her face was twisted in rage as she looked on toward the direction of Mr. Kane and the woman. “That slimy snake.”
“Ginger!” she hissed. “You promised to stay away. What about respecting my privacy?”
She nodded. “I was going to, but then I got worried.” Her simple honesty touched Toni’s heart, making it impossible for her to hang onto her irritation.
“So now you know, I was following Mr. Kane.”
“Did you know he was with some floozy?”
“No. And that’s not why I was following him.”
“Then why?”
“Let’s go back to the wagon before he hears us out here.”
“It’s too late for that.” Dread clawed Toni’s gut at the sound of Mr. Kane’s voice. She turned to face him, relieved that the woman had apparently fled. But Mr. Kane’s face, twisted dangerously and his hand shot out to grab her forearm. “What in tarnation are you doin’ prowling around out here spying on me?”
Toni fought back a scream of pain as he nearly squeezed the blood from her. “I wasn’t spying on you, Mr. Kane,” She said.
“You best turn her loose before I fill your gut full of lead, mister.”
Staring down the barrel of a Colt, he seemed to get the message and dropped Toni’s arm. Which was most likely a good choice. Toni had no reason to doubt that the girl would follow through on her threat.
Ginger’s outraged voice split through the woods. “You dirty rotten snake. Fooling around with another woman behind your poor wife’s back. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”
“What she’s been through?” The man’s eyes glittered dangerously in the light of the moon and he stepped forward looming above Ginger’s small frame. “Do you think my wife has been through more than I have? Didn’t we lose the same children? Two before we came west and then our little girl. Seems like everyone thinks she’s sadder than I am. So if I take comfort in a warm, young thing that understand
s what I’m goin’ through, that’s my own business. And you best keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”
Even face-to-face with the giant of a man, Ginger didn’t back down one iota. She raised herself to her full height and squared her slim shoulders. “Don’t you dare threaten me, mister. I don’t scare very easy.”
“You better, if you know what’s good for you.”
She stomped her foot like a petulant child. “I said don’t you dare threaten me, you dirty warthog.”
Toni figured now was as good a time as any to step into the middle of the fight. “Mr. Kane, I wasn’t going to bring this up right now, but I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice.”
“What are you talking about?”
Swallowing hard, she gathered a breath. “I know Wolf didn’t kill the Adams’ rooster.”
His sneer was immediately replaced with something akin to fear. But he recovered just as quickly. “I ain’t got no idea what you’re gettin’ at.”
“You do too!”
“Ginger, please,” Toni said. “Stay out of this.”
“Well, he does.”
This time she kept her tone a little more firm. “Let me handle it.”
“So-rry!”
Good Lord, the girl was more trouble than she was worth at times.
“Mr. Kane, you were seen tossing the rooster to Wolfie. There’s no denying that it was you.”
“Try to prove it.” He shoved past the two women and crashed through the woods back toward the wagon train.
Ginger nudged her. “Who saw him?”
She stepped forward, headed back toward the wagon train. “Alfred,” she whispered.
A profanity escaped Ginger’s lips. “Oh, well, that ain’t gonna be no help, is it?”
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
“Why do you think Mr. Kane would frame his own dog?”
Toni shrugged. “I couldn’t even begin to guess. And you should stop swearing.”
“What for?” Ginger asked. “I like swearing.”
“For mercy’s sake.” The girl was difficult. “You should stop because it’s not Christian to swear. And besides, it doesn’t sound very ladylike.”
Ginger chortled and slung an arm around Toni’s shoulders. “Toni, you know I ain’t Christian nor a lady, so what difference does it make?”
“If you’d give God a chance he could heal whatever wounds you’re trying to cover up. Look what he did for me.”
Ginger dropped her arm. “Don’t try to save me, Toni. Preachin’ ain’t gonna do no good. I got my mind made up about God and what I got to do no decent Christian could get away with as far as the Almighty’s concerned.”
The words terrified Toni. Ginger was her own worst enemy and the girl didn’t even know it. Or if she did, she didn’t care.
“All right, listen. What are we going to do about Kane?” Ginger said in a huff.
“I don’t know yet.” She cast a sideways glance at the young woman. “This entire situation is much bigger than I am. And I’m going to pray and ask God for wisdom; and according to the book of James, He will give it to me.”
“I know what I’d do,” Ginger said. “I’d walk right up to that fella, stick a gun in his belly and force him to tell the truth.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work in this situation, Ginger. Please don’t do anything of the sort.”
Ginger let out a huff and stomped on ahead toward the wagons.
Toni followed. She recognized this awful position. She wasn’t a gossip. Wasn’t one to tell tales. She never had been, even before she became a Christian. But if she told anyone about Mr. Kane and his dalliance with the unknown woman, she could put herself in danger of being made out to be a liar. Who would believe a former prostitute over a respected member of the wagon train?
She began praying for wisdom before she even reached her wagon.
Charles Harrison watched his son as he played with the half-wolf puppy tied to the Kane’s wagon. The boy was the spitting image of his mother—so much so that it was impossible for Charles to look at him most days without the pain robbing him of breath. His Cordelia had a bond with the boy that Charles had resented from time to time. As much as it shamed him to admit it, even to himself, he’d been jealous of the attention Delia showered on the child. They shared a love of animals, of nature. Of just about everything.
“Alfred,” he called. The boy turned to him, a simple look of trust in his eyes.
“Hi, Pa.”
“Time to tell Mrs. Kane and Wolfie goodnight and come to our campfire.”
“Yes, Pa.” He stood, patted Wolf on the head. The dog whined and licked Alfred’s hand. The boy laughed. “Okay, Wolfie, see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Alfred,” Mrs. Kane said. Her sad eyes never failed to touch Charles’s heart. She’d suffered much, this woman. But then, so had most of the pioneers. Still, it seemed as though she might be just a little more fragile than others.
“Night, ma’am,” Alfred replied.
Mr. Kane entered the campsite, anger exuding from his body. Before Charles could move, the massive man snatched Alfred by the front of his shirt. “You been telling tales about me, boy?”
“Hi, M-Mr. Kane.”
“Turn my boy loose,” Charles said, fingering his pistol. Outraged, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Kane didn’t do as he was told.
“Not ’til he tells me what he’s been sayin’. I know it was you, you dimwitted fool.”
“What happened?” Mrs. Kane asked.
“Never you mind. This boy knows and he best admit it before I beat him to death with my bare hands.”
Rage shot through Charles at the threat. He slipped his Colt from his holster and shoved it toward the man. “I said get your hands off my son, or I’m going to plug you full of holes, Kane.”
Mr. Kane turned. Charles kept his eyes firmly on the man, knowing Kane was sizing him up. After what seemed like forever, he turned Alfred loose. Charles stepped forward, keeping his Colt pointed squarely at the man’s chest. “No one threatens my family, and if you ever lay your hand on him again, believe me, I won’t give you a warning first, I’ll just start shooting.”
A sneer curled Kane’s lip. “You keep that half-wit away from my wife and my dog. You understand me?”
“He won’t come near your wagon again.” Charles slipped his arm around Alfred’s shoulders. “Come on, Son. Let’s go.”
“Okay, Pa. Night Mrs. Kane. Night Wolfie. Night Mr. Kane.”
Mrs. Kane lifted her hand. “Goodnight Alfred.”
Charles heard the sorrow in her voice and once again his heart went out to her.
“Go on,” Kane growled. “Get out of here and don’t come back.”
Without another word, Charles led his son back to their own wagon. Belinda looked up when they walked to the fire. “Want some coffee, Pa?”
Charles looked at his daughter. At thirteen, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. When had she changed so much? And why hadn’t he noticed? Delia would be so disappointed in him if she could see him now.
Fifteen
Timothy wept when they arrived back at the site of the attack. He fell across his wife’s grave. The sounds he uttered were more like that of a wounded animal than human. The sounds and sight were chilling.
Sam turned away to allow the man his privacy, but nothing could stop the sounds of Timothy’s anguish. While Brian took a rifle and went in search of game for supper, Sam surveyed the area, looking for signs that might lead to a clue of some sort. One thing he knew for sure, someone had been in the camp since the travelers had left. He doubted Swooping Eagle and his men had returned. More likely, stray Indians or men headed for the gold fields passed by looking for anything salvageable. At least the graves hadn’t been disturbed.
Finally, after searching in all directions from the burnt wagons and debris that had been left behind after the attack, Sam found enough footprints and broken branches to give the three men a st
arting point, at least.
At first light, they would cut north from their current position and track in that direction. With a little luck and a lot of help from God, he was hopeful the trail would remain clear.
As the three men sat around the campfire later, Brian remained pensive, Tim sorrowful. Sam prayed. He had never been one to press his religion on anyone. Or any of his feelings and beliefs. He had always felt a man should do what he thought was right. But Timothy’s grieving was deeper than normal sorrow. It was soul-wounding pain that only Jesus could heal. And Sam knew he had that hope, himself. How could he keep it from a man who so desperately needed the same peace?
“I just don’t understand how this could happen to her,” the man said, weeping into his already soaked handkerchief. “She was the sweetest, gentlest woman in the world. She was good and kind and loved me and Janey. Why did God take her when we need her so?”
Anytime a man asked a question, Sam figured it was an opening to give the best answer he knew. And that answer could only be one thing.
“We live in a fallen world, Tim. Wars and killing are part of this sinful nature of man. Only Jesus is perfection and we won’t know perfection until we live in the heaven designed for Him. Your Sophie was caught in the middle of man’s sinful nature.”
“How is it to be borne? I can’t breathe. I can’t sleep. All I can do is see her with that arrow through her heart, staring at me and begging me to do something to help her.” Sobs racked his body, deep engulfing sobs that gripped Sam’s heart. He went to the man and clasped him on the shoulder. Timothy grabbed him and clung. Sam offered the man his strength. “How do I hold on?” Timothy cried. “How?”
Sam searched his heart and allowed the words to flow from a place inside of him where he knew God inhabited. “Maybe you don’t have to be the one to hold on. Jesus will hold on to you until you can raise your arms again, Tim. His love will carry you and when you can carry your own weight again He’ll still be there, walking right alongside you.”
Timothy remained silent for the rest of the evening. Sam wasn’t sure if he had helped or not, but he prayed throughout the night that God would give Tim the peace he needed to focus on the task at hand.
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