Ginger said goodnight and headed back to the tent she shared with Toni. Her friend offered her a cup of coffee when she arrived. Ginger nodded gratefully. “Thanks.”
“So what was Blake’s punishment?”
“Water detail,” she said glumly.
Toni gave a short laugh. “That’s my every day chore. But I can see why you’d consider it a punishment.” She handed Ginger the tin cup. “Sam stopped by. He said you have a visitor in camp.”
“Not exactly a visitor. He’s my brother, and he’s apparently got cholera.”
“Sam told me. I’m so sorry.”
“Grant wouldn’t let me stay with him.” She took a sip of her coffee, then bended forward to rest her forearms on her knees. She studied the cup she cradled between her hands. “He told me to rest. How does he expect me to do that when my baby brother is in the supply tent all alone?”
“He’s just looking out for you, Ginger,” Toni soothed. “It’s what he does.”
“I don’t need him looking out for me. I need him to let me look out for Buddy.”
“Well, I think we’d all better get ready. Cholera isn’t going to go away quietly. The next couple of weeks are going to be more than hard for everyone.”
For the first time, Ginger considered the implications of this disease beyond her brother. “You think a lot of people are going to die?”
“Sam seemed concerned. And I’ve seen this disease before. It isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Blake and Sam are out warning folks now.”
“I hope it doesn’t cause a panic.”
Ginger gave a shrug. “I reckon Blake knows what he’s doing.”
Toni rinsed out the coffeepot. A yawn stretched her mouth. “Are you ready to turn in?”
“I’ll just dump out the wash water and take care of the fire, then I’ll be in.”
Nodding, Toni said goodnight and ducked into the tent.
Alone, Ginger extinguished the campfire, feeling the darkness swirling around her.
A shudder ran down her spine. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could feel eyes on her, watching. She stopped and turned quickly. “Web?” she whispered. Maybe he was checking on Buddy after all.
But silence answered. Her heart beat faster and she resumed her walk, quickening her steps, anxious to reach her tent and escape the feeling of those prying eyes.
Grant thought about Ginger as he administered quinine to the boy lying on the pallet in the supply tent. He’d watched her walk away, her body held with much less confidence than he was accustomed to seeing from her. Her head drooped just a little, and her gait seemed a bit slower, less cocky. Her brother’s appearance and illness had most assuredly upset her. He didn’t blame her. He himself was terrified, if he had to be honest about it. When Blake returned later with some supplies, Grant finally gave in to his curiosity. “What did she have to say for herself?”
“About riding off alone?” Blake shrugged. “The usual. Just needed to get alone. I understand how she feels. There are times when I’d like to ride off on Dusty and not come back until we’re both sweating buckets and I feel my head clear. But I can’t allow that sort of thing. If everyone ran off whenever they took a notion to, we’d have no discipline around here.”
Grant nodded. “I agree. Did Ginger have an explanation for her brother showing up out of nowhere?”
“Nothing more than what she already said. She did say that she ran into her pa while she was out there today.”
“Her pa?” Somehow, Grant didn’t find this news too shocking. Not after her brother had appeared out of nowhere. Even a man of faith would have trouble believing such a thing were mere coincidence or simply an ambitious fifteen-year-old brother traveling alone, all the way from Missouri just to find her. “Do you think there’s a connection between this morning’s attack and Ginger’s reunion with her pa and brother?”
“Only a fool would think otherwise.”
Grant nodded in agreement. Blake was no fool. Grant walked next to him as they made their way through camp. “I figure she’s seen more than just her pa and her brother.”
“I’d put money on it.” Blake dropped his tone. “As a matter of fact, I’m banking on Ginger’s presence in the wagon train to draw them out.” His gaze swept the camp. “I told the captains of each section to double the guards for each section of the train.”
Grant nodded. “What about the scouts? Should we double them, too?”
“Makes sense. Numbers might discourage an attack. Let them go in groups of three, at daybreak. If there are any tracks ahead, I want them found before the wagons rolls over them.” He gathered a deep breath. “I don’t want any more surprise attacks.”
“Something else to consider,” Grant said. “It’s possible more than just Ginger’s brother has come down with cholera.”
Blake scowled and nodded. “The thought has crossed my mind, as well. Unless we can get her to admit to being part of that outfit, how do we flush them out before they spread it to anyone else?”
“She may need to be confronted.”
All in all, Grant knew that Ginger had a good heart. She might not turn in her pa if it meant him going to jail or getting hanged, but he couldn’t believe she’d want to be responsible for unnecessary deaths.
At least not if she was the kind of young woman he believed her to be. He just hoped he wasn’t wrong about her.
Web eyed his opponent, sizing him up like he would anyone who dared question his authority. “Like I said, we’re waitin’ this thing out.”
Lane shook his head, refusing to back down. “We’ve got to leave these parts or we’re gonna get ourselves caught.” His words carried across camp. Web sensed the tension in his men. They weren’t used to outbursts such as this one. Web’s word was law, and that was that. Even those who disagreed rarely said so. And if they did, they sure didn’t say it twice. So why, all of a sudden was the one man he thought he could count on betraying him?
Throughout his years as leader of this band of outcasts and outlaws, Web had been challenged before and had always dealt with the upstart in his own way. This time was different. Lane’s silver-talking tongue had earned him sway with some of the men. But as far as Web knew, they were still loyal to him. For now, anyway. He needed to appeal to their sense of loyalty. And he needed to do it fast. If this stomach ailment was what he suspected, he and two other men in camp had contracted cholera from them Indians.
“Listen, men.” Web held up his hand and moved in next to Lane. “A half-day’s ride away is plenty far away from the wagon train. Even the trackers won’t ride too far from the rest of the group. They’re more concerned with immediate danger. As long as we keep our distance, we need to stick with the plan.”
Lane shook his head and raised his voice. “Don’t be fooled by Web! He’s only saying that because he has Buddy and Ginger both in that camp. You know they’re spying for him right now.”
“What?” Web shouted, his head swimming with dizziness. The fact was, he wished he’d thought of planting a spy. He could shoot himself for not, as a matter of fact. He didn’t know where Buddy was, and he wasn’t sure whether Ginger was still loyal to him or not.
“Lane, you know as well as I do that Buddy ain’t nowhere near that wagon train.”
“Really? Then where is he, Web?” Lane’s brow rose in challenge.
“Well, I don’t rightly know that. He went looking for his sister—that’s true—but he ain’t daft enough to walk into camp and start callin’ her name.”
“Well, I happen to know he is in their camp.”
Web narrowed his gaze at the man. In the back of his mind, he thought about Lane riding into camp late with a few rabbits slung across his saddle.
Lane’s horse had been ridden harder than he let on. And harder than anyone would ride on a hunt.
Web leveled his gaze at Lane. “You been spying on the wagon train without letting me know about it?”
Lane nodded. “I saw him. He must hav
e hurt himself, because they carried him into camp. It looked like he was unconscious. Seems like they must have found out he’s connected to Ginger, because they took her to the tent where they’re holding him.”
The news slammed into Web’s gut, and he fought to keep from retching. He swallowed hard and gathered his composure. “Who told you to hang back and spy on my girl? You plannin’ on doublecrossin’ me?”
Lane’s desire for Ginger had been common knowledge since she was fourteen years old and began displaying womanly qualities. Common knowledge, that was, except to Ginger. She was oblivious to anything romantic. Just as well. Without a mother, she’d been raised in a man’s world. To her credit, she didn’t have any evil feminine wiles, but also no feminine instincts that he’d ever observed. Her worthless mother had seen to that. The woman never was much of a mother—or a wife, for that matter. But whether Ginger knew Lane was sweet on her or not, he still didn’t have any call to sneak around and gawk at her without her knowing. It just wasn’t right.
“Did you hear me, boy?” he said. “What was you doin’, staying back when the rest of us moved on?”
A lazy smile collected at the corner of Lane’s mouth. “That’s my business, I reckon.”
In a flash, Web snatched the front of Lane’s shirt and yanked him forward. Fear replaced insolence, and the younger man’s eyes widened.
“I’m makin’ it my business, you two-bit idiot.” A wave of nausea swarmed his gut, but he fought it back.
Elijah stepped forward and spread his hands. “Let’s not fight amongst ourselves. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that James and Murray are ailing. I’m guessing cholera. Do you think we ought to be concentrating on not spreading it?”
Web turned Lane loose with a jolt. “Elijah’s got a point. Now, I don’t want to hear any more. A half-day’s ride is plenty far away. Anyone else what to challenge me?”
Web knew he was on dangerous ground when someone like Lane, who had ridden with him since he was just a boy, could go against him for no good reason. The other men would lose confidence if he didn’t do something quick.
He turned to the rest of the men, who stood in silence, waiting, watching to see what he would do. “Now, you men know me. Have I ever led you into anything that wasn’t for the good of the entire gang?”
Murmurs of assent buzzed around the group. Confidence surged through Web. “All right then. I have my reasons for not riding away just yet.”
Lane seemed unable to let well enough alone. “Seems to me, if we’re going to risk our necks for your so-called reasons, you ought to come clean to the rest of us.”
Web knew if he gave in to Lane’s demands he would be in danger of losing his command of this ragtag bunch of misfits that he had pulled together and made into a family. And he couldn’t let that happen. His biggest regret at the moment was ever treating Lane like a son. Still, he figured he’d best remind the men just why they’d left Missouri and followed the wagon train. It was his only defense against Lane’s poison.
“Remember why we hit the wagon train in the first place?” He leveled his gaze and scrutinized the whole lot of ungrateful idiots. “Who joined the wagon train the same time as Grant Kelley?” He hesitated a moment for effect. “Harrison. Charles Harrison. Richest fella in Kansas. And ain’t we lucky that he packed up, lock, stock, and barrel, and decided to head west with that idiot son of his, a pretty wife, and young daughter? How many of you got enough brains to figure out what he probably didn’t leave behind?”
“His money?”
Poor Yuley. He was as slow as Harrison’s son. His big grin flashed proudly.
Web clapped the simpleton on the shoulder with parental approval. “That’s right, Yuley. His money. Now, how many of you want to ride off and leave all those thousands of dollars that I just bet are under a false bottom or in their supply wagon, locked away in a box?”
No one raised a hand. He turned in triumph to Lane. “I guess you got your answer. If you ever go against my word again, I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Lane’s eyes darkened further. “I don’t like threats.”
“And I don’t like my leadership questioned. Now, this was my outfit from the start, and I don’t mean to hand it over to the likes of you before I’m good and ready.” He paused for a breath. “Unless I change my mind and hand it over to someone else.”
“All right. Your point is taken. But tell me, how do you plan to get us close enough to find the box and then steal it?”
“I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
Because the fact of the matter was that Web had no idea how he was going to manage to grab the money and make sure his young’uns were safe. The best he could do right now was get away by himself somewhere and think on it a bit. He walked away from camp. But not so far that he couldn’t keep the campfire in sight. Lane would like nothing better than to catch him out alone and do him in. The longer he walked the more he thought about Lane until he came to a sober conclusion. With the traitor’s poison spreading through the group, Web had no choice but to find out once and for all where Ginger’s loyalties lay. He couldn’t care less about whether or not she ever put a bullet in that doctor. In a raid, men on either side would be killed, and no one was to blame. War was war. And he didn’t believe in revenge. It was a waste of time. Only once had he given in to bloodlust. That was his secret, and he’d never do it again.
He would enter the camp and introduce himself as Ginger’s Pa that had been looking for his girl. She had friends there. If they trusted her, they’d surely trust her pa. It wouldn’t take long to make friends with Harrison and find out about the money. Then Ginger could do what she needed to do, and they could grab the money and be on their way before anyone was the wiser. It was time to get on with the new plan. Ginger wouldn’t be happy with her role, but she had no choice.
A grim smile slowly stretched his mouth as he imagined the entire plan in his mind.
Tonight, he would sleep like a baby. And in the morning, he’d join the wagon train and reunite with his two children. Hopefully, his stomach would settle down by then.
Five
Ginger made her way through camp toward the supply tent where Buddy was kept, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed in the bustle of nighttime activities. She’d hated to lie to Toni, but the only way to get out of the tent was to pretend she needed to go and do her business. The kind of business a person had to do alone.
Earlier, she’d heard Blake instruct Two Feathers to post one guard at the entrance to the supply tent. That was a mercy. Getting past one guard wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Especially when that guard was Nate Lyons—not the smartest man Sam could have chosen to keep watch.
She figured Grant would have gone back to his own tent by now. And she was determined that her brother wasn’t going to die while she slept in her warm tent. As she approached, she changed her course, snatching up a stone as she tiptoed around to the back of the tent. Aiming carefully away from the tent, she tossed the rock a few feet from Nate. He turned his head sharply—just as she’d intended. Predictably, when the sound didn’t immediately repeat, he retook his position and looked straight ahead. Ginger tossed another stone and another one. Nate took the bait. “Who’s there?”
Cautiously, he walked toward the sound and away from his post, which would most likely get him a firm tongue lashing from Sam or Blake. A fact that made Ginger feel a little guilty, but not enough to stop her from her mission to get inside that tent where her brother was being kept. She stealthily moved along the cloth wall, making her way around the front. She ducked inside without being spotted.
She should thank her lucky stars that Nate was missing a few brains. Anyone smarter wouldn’t have been fooled. As a matter of fact, she’d been meaning to speak to Blake about Nate’s incompetence. Now she was glad it had slipped her mind.
“Buddy,” she whispered. “You awake?”
“Yeah,” came the returning whisper. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you. They t
ied me up. It hurts somethin’ fierce. Can you cut me loose?”
Indignation flashed through her as she observed his precarious position. Poor Buddy’s uninjured arm was stretched across his body where both arms could meet at the wrists. “Barbarians,” she said, blinking back tears of pity at what she knew had to be excruciating pain. “Hang on, Buddy, I’ll have you out of that knot in a hurry” She knelt beside his pallet and yanked her hunting knife from her belt.
Buddy gazed up at her, his blue eyes filled with worry. “It won’t get you into any trouble will it?” His voice sounded so weak, Ginger fought the urge to tear up. How could anyone tie up a boy that was not only hurt but also so sick? Just wait until she got her hands on that idiot Grant. He would have been the last person to see Buddy. It had to have been him.
“Let it. I’m going to cut you loose. My brother isn’t going to be tied up like an animal.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Worse than an animal. The horses and oxen roam free. How are you feeling?”
“Awful, Ginger,” he said, moaning. “I think I’m gonna die.”
“Don’t you dare say that, you hear?” The blade made short work of Buddy’s bindings. He sighed and rubbed his shoulder where it had been stretched.
“Thanks,” he mumbled as though speaking was too much effort.
Brushing aside his thanks, Ginger adjusted her position so that she sat cross-legged on the ground next to his pallet. “What were you doing out there, Buddy? Why did you stay behind after Web and the rest of the gang rode off?”
His eyes remained closed. “I told you…” he said weakly.
Memory washed over her, taking her back four months to late spring. Buddy had held Tulip’s halter and stared up at her as he said, “If you don’t get home before harvest, I’m coming after you.”
Funny how they measured time the same way the farmers in Missouri did. How often had Ginger gone to bed in some rowdy, bawdy house or shivering in the cold of a winter camp, wished for a home with parents who tilled the ground, planted, and brought in the harvest? Honest pay for an honest day’s work. She and Buddy used to lay close and dream aloud about the sort of man their dream pa might be. Their dream ma. All they’d had was each other. And Clem.
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