by Jodi Barrows
Tex uncorked a bottle of whiskey and brought it to his lips, taking a big swig. The bottle rested on his leg as he considered another.
“What’s eatin’ you?” Jackson asked his mentor.
“Ah, nothin’ I can’t handle.”
“When do you see us finding that wagon train?” Jackson asked, and he took the bottle from his friend’s knee.
“As we go north, we’ll find them.”
Colt stirred the fire and added another log. “Why are we sent to meet this group, anyway?” he asked. “It doesn’t make sense to me. We don’t guard wagons and help them across the frontier. We pull them out of trouble after they find it … and they always do.”
Tex knew that Colt had little sympathy for wagon trains. Few, in his mind, had business going west. He guessed the boy had just seen too much in too few years.
“Women have got no business on the frontier,” Colt continued.
Tex lay back on his saddle and tipped his hat forward. “Jackson, take first watch. Colt you’re next.” He turned his back to the fire and adjusted the bedroll under his shoulder, and he muttered, “Dang, I miss my dog.”
The Mailly group had traveled several days and still not come across the Rangers, nor had they found Thomas or Chet. Liz tried to hold on to the occasional burst of optimism that all was well with them and that they would surely meet up at the fort.
The embers of the evening campfire soothed Liz, and she found it an agreeable spot for thinking. Oh, how she missed her rocking chair and access to a sturdy oil lamp for sewing or reading her Bible, but the location had little to do with meditation on Scripture. She thought about one of her favorite verses to which she had often clung since Caleb had died. She recited it softly as she stirred the fire.
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken.” She paused and took a deep breath as she looked out into the darkness of night and finished the passage. “Struck down, but not destroyed. Second Corinthians, chapter four, verses eight and nine.”
Liz jerked her head toward a sudden noise just as Megan appeared from the brush.
“Megan, you could get shot sneaking around like that.”
Megan laughed and sat down by her sister. “Is that a threat?” she asked, looking around in dramatic fashion. “I don’t see your gun. Are you hiding it somewhere, Lizzie?”
Liz snickered. “Oh, hush now.”
“I heard you reciting a memory verse before. ‘Struck down, but not destroyed.’ And how many times do we get up?”
“A righteous falls seven times, and rises again. Proverbs 24:16.”
They smiled at one another, and Megan’s hand moved to Liz’s face where she touched the place where the wound had been.
“You are looking better. How do you feel?”
“I try not to think what I must look like, but I do feel better.”
“You know,” Megan began, “if you would ever sleep, you might never know if I’m out in the dark or not.”
Liz sighed.
“Do you miss home, Liz?”
“Do you?” she asked in return.
“Not really, but I do wonder if Grandpa is worried over us and if he got word somehow about our troubles.”
“He knew we would have trouble, maybe even figured we might get lost, but I’m sure he’s been comforted at the thought that we had Thomas and Chet to see us through. The only way we were to be alone like this was if someone was killed.”
“Poor Thomas,” Megan said with a sigh. “Grandpa Lucas won’t be gentle with him when he finds out. Though it was not their fault. Do you think they are alive, Lizzie, and out there looking for us?”
“Yes, I do. And most likely very upset with us for not making it easier to find us.”
They both laughed.
“Why do I need a man at all in my life?” Liz proposed with a gentle smile. “I mean, if I can get us across the prairie, then I can make it on my own, don’t you think so? I will have the mercantile and you can have your dress shop, Megan, and we will be just fine. Luke is almost grown, and I don’t need to remarry for him. I feel like men are never there when you really need them the most.” When she looked up and noticed the sadness in her sister’s eyes, Liz sighed. “I have a hard heart now. I know that, but I don’t want to be hurt again.”
Megan stirred the fire a little and turned to face her sister. “You had a happy marriage with Caleb. Don’t dishonor him by thinking bitterly about marriage. You don’t mean it. We just have not met suitable men. I’m simply saying to you, don’t give up on Thomas. He loves you, you know.”
Before Liz could part her lips to object, Megan stood up and moved toward her. Leaning over, she gave Liz a warm embrace.
“I’m tired. I’m going to turn in. Don’t stay out too long.”
Liz watched after her as Megan withdrew to the wagon for the night. Liz wanted to stay and listen to the humming of the night creatures a while longer.
Deep in thought, Liz stirred the fire and didn’t hear them until the approaching boot steps thumped to a stop in front of her and the fire. Startled, she looked up and gasped as she saw a man with his hat pulled down over his eyes, his long hair showing beneath it. His leather holster sported two revolvers, and he clutched a rifle in his hand with the butt of the gun leaning on his hip. Liz looked down the barrel as her heart pounded out a discordant rhythm against her dress.
“You’re not too cautious,” the man stated.
“And you’re rather brave, walking right into my camp like this.”
She straightened quickly, her thoughts scrambling for what to do. Blue and John had already retired for the night.
“What do you want, and who are you?”
“I could have killed you or—” he began.
“You might get one of us, but you would never walk the same again.”
Megan’s voice had come from beyond the cover of brush.
“Come out of the trees, young lady,” he said, and Liz thought he sounded worried. “I don’t want anyone hurt.”
“You would like that,” Megan snapped. “Drop your gun and step away from my sister.”
The young man lowered his gun and backed away. Out of the fire’s light, Liz squinted to keep her eyes on him.
“Not that far!” Megan exclaimed. “Step into the light where we can see you. Now!”
“I don’t want to hurt either of you, ma’am. If I did, I could easily have killed you both by now. I’ve watched you all day. I know who you are. I’m a Texas Ranger come to escort you to Fort Worth.” He motioned to his badge, hidden by his hair, clamped to his vest pocket.
Liz heard Megan let out a heavy sigh of relief just before Bear appeared out of nowhere, yipped out a single bark, and ran up to the Ranger with his tail wagging as if he greeted an old friend.
“Bear, you traitor!” Liz stated as she watched the two. “How does he know you?”
He laughed. “We became friends over by the ridge of rocks today. I was watching all of you and he came to me just like this.”
The man lowered to one knee, patting Bear’s back, and Megan stepped out from the darkness, still clutching her revolver, looking a bit insecure about letting down her guard. She came and stood by Liz, and they studied the man who stood before them.
He had as much unruly hair as the dog. Liz had never seen a man with hair that long, tied and wrapped with a leather strap on each side of his head. The texture seemed far too wavy for him to be Indian, and despite his deep tan, his skin was too light for such a heritage. His brownish green eyes twinkled slightly as he looked up at Megan.
“You have no cause to fear me,” he said, still rubbing Bear’s back. “Could you aim that pistol in another direction?”
“Are you alone then?” Liz asked. “We were told that a man named Tex would be our escort.”
“Tex will be here. Jackson is riding with us, too. They were delayed. They’ll be along late morning. You two go on to bed. Bear and I w
ill keep guard together.”
Megan and Liz exchanged questioning glances.
“What’s your name?” Liz asked him.
“Colt, ma’am.”
“I’m Elizabeth Bromont. And this is my sister, Megan Ronnay.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, straightening with a smile. “Go on and get some shut-eye, both of you. We’ll head out to Fort Worth in the morning.”
Thomas finished his coffee, deep in thought. He couldn’t understand how he could have missed Liz and the others. He felt frustrated and embarrassed, and he couldn’t seem to scratch that itch in his ear, the one that told him life was too short to waste time. The code of the West dictated doing things while you still could.
With a firm and silent nod, he determined that he would ask Liz to marry him as soon as he found her again. If they were married, he could certainly take better care of her, he decided.
“Today is the day!” Chet announced as he approached Thomas and the fresh coffee beside him.
“For what?” Thomas asked.
“I feel it in my bones. We will meet up with the wagons today. I have done all the calculations. We’ll find them along the river,” he declared, motioning southward.
Thomas looked off into the direction and shook his head. “I don’t know, but I sure hope you’re right.”
Why didn’t I ask her before we left? Thomas thought.
He wouldn’t have lost them then; he wouldn’t have felt pushed to go after Chet when he went missing. Hindsight, of course, always near perfect, reassured him of that fact.
Thomas let his memory transport him back to the porch with Liz the day the wagons arrived. He thought she might tell him something that would let him know that she could be ready and willing to move on with her life. Certainly she knew that he loved her. And he’d been hoping that their trip would be the time where she might realize that she loved him, too.
Things have not worked out in my favor, he lamented, and he shook his head.
Chet moved the dirt over the fire with his boot and looked to Thomas. “What are you fretting about?”
Thomas jumped up and stalked over to his horse, tugging on the belly strap of the saddle under his mare. “Let’s get moving,” he said.
They both leapt onto their mounts and headed out to find the others in the early morning light.
Liz congregated the women together and they gathered up all the laundry and bathing supplies, informing the men that they would be back after a while. It would give John, Blue, and Luke a good chance to get acquainted with Colt.
The water temperature felt cool but comfortable—once she adjusted to it, anyway. Each of the women removed her dress and scrubbed it on the rocks, spreading it over a bush to dry. Liz knew the garments would dry quickly in the hot Texas sun.
“Are you sure no one is around?” Megan asked, glancing about them.
“Yes,” Liz answered as she waded to her knees.
Megan and Emma looked about as the others untied their camisoles.
Liz grinned. “I’m going to wear my camisole while I swim and wash my hair. But if you want to take yours off, I’m sure you’re safe in doing it.”
The others boldly disrobed and washed their camisoles as well, spreading them out on the rocks to dry with their dresses before they all swam and enjoyed the cool water over their sore muscles. As she scrubbed her milky skin with the lavender soap bubbles, Liz thought back to how Grandpa Lucas had taught them how to swim one summer when they all were still very young. Lathering more of the soap between her palms, she washed her hair until it squeaked between her fingers.
“This feels so good I don’t want to get out,” Megan said with a sigh as she floated about. “Do you think our clothes are dry now, Lizzie?”
The other three women dried off with the heavy cloths they’d brought along, and they dressed quickly in the fresh cotton clothing.
“Oh, you were the smart ones,” Liz announced. “I should have put my camisole on the rocks to dry like you all did. I’ll have to wait a little longer to let mine dry. You go ahead back to camp. I’ll just swim a bit more, and I think it should be dry by then.”
“Leave you here alone?” Abby exclaimed.
“I’ll be fine,” she said as she skimmed out of her camisole and handed it off to Megan to spread out on the rocks next to her dress. “Check and see if the other Rangers have arrived. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
Liz felt refreshed, happy to remain behind and swim about in the cool water for a little bit longer. She heard Abby humming an old church hymn as the group of them hiked around the bend toward camp.
Large billowy clouds with hollow centers looked as if they’d been randomly strewn about the clear blue sky. Liz stood in the shallow water, her camisole still damp and clinging to her as she looked up at them. Water dripped from her hair as it hung down her back. The sun’s rays came down in spears and bounced around the water in glistening streaks as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep, lingering breath of fresh air.
Liz opened her eyes and stood perfectly still, stunned by the presence of a young brave standing less than a yard away from her at the river’s edge. Behind him, a painted pony grazed in the grass. No sound escaped from her as she sank into the water to cover her naked flesh. She felt frozen, suspended in the water, almost unable to breathe as he inched into the river.
The brave reached out toward her unexpectedly, and she gasped as his hand made contact with her face. At almost the same moment, the young Indian started at the sudden break in the silence. Footsteps thumped down the rocky path past the trees beyond the pony, and the man who emerged looked something like a large bear stumbling down the hill. On the opposite side of the river, two more Indians—until that moment, completely undetected—made their way across the water to the safety of the thick trees.
Megan reached the water ahead of the mountain of a man, and she reached for the drying cloth as she approached Liz in the water. Mildly traumatized by the experience of seeing her very first Indians, Liz’s entire body trembled violently.
Megan wrapped the cloth around her and led her from the water.
“Liz, are you hurt? Look at me. Are you okay?” Megan held her sister by the shoulders. “Liz? Speak to me.”
“I … never saw him approach. I opened my eyes and he was so close. He … touched me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I’m not hurt. I’m … frightened.”
The large man reached them, and he picked up her dress from the rocks, looking away as he handed it to her. He turned his back on the women before glancing over to the wooded area where the braves disappeared.
“You scared them off, Mrs. Bromont. I think they thought you were some water goddess or something.” He chuckled. “Wait till Tex hears about this. It’s a good thing someone didn’t get stupid and try to shoot one of them young boys. If we’re lucky, they might be so shaken they won’t even tell anyone.”
Liz quickly regained her composure and pulled the wet hair from the back of her dress. She looked to Megan with a questioning expression. “Who is this?”
Megan quickly spoke up. “Jackson, you may turn around and meet my sister, Elizabeth Bromont.”
Jackson faced her with one foot on a large rock, his Colt revolver still in hand. When he spotted her staring at the gun, he shoved it into the holster on his leg.
“Mrs. Bromont, good to meet you alive. Let’s get back to camp and you can get acquainted with the others.”
Megan took hold of the introductions once they returned. “Tex, I would like for you to meet my sister, Mrs. Caleb Bromont.”
Liz stepped toward the aging cowboy. She liked what she saw in him. She saw both wisdom and sadness in his features, and she particularly liked his eyes. He had wrinkles at the corners when he smiled at her, and he took her hand in a hearty handshake. His spurs jingled as he took a step.
“Tex, it’s good to finally catch up with you,” she said. “Forgive our appearance as we were no
t expecting Rangers—or Indians, for that matter—today.”
“Indians,” Blue piped up.
“Just a couple of young braves down at the river,” Jackson explained.
“Indians!” Abby cried. “Liz, are you all right?”
She nodded, and Jackson continued. “Scared her more than anything, I’d say. But they hightailed it outta there. Mrs. Bromont, this is Tex, and that young’un over there is Colt. We’re Texas Rangers, here to get you all safely to Fort Worth in a few days.”
“We are very grateful.”
“I hear you’ve lost some of the others in your group,” Tex spoke up.
“Yes.”
“It happens more often than you might imagine that groups get split along the trail,” he reassured her. “They know where you are headed, so that’s good, at least. We’ll keep an eye out for them.”
“Thank you, Mister Tex,” she said as she stumbled with his name.
“Tex is fine, Mrs. Bromont.”
Elizabeth nodded to him and smiled. When she inched toward the campfire to dry and braid her hair, her sister and cousins followed.
Evening came and Liz found herself fireside nursing the evening embers, unable to sleep. Tex strolled over to join her and sat down across from her atop a log.
“Colt’s on guard duty, Mrs. Bromont. You don’t have to stay up.”
Liz sipped her tea and nodded. “Call me Liz.”
“Can’t sleep, Miss Liz?” he asked.
“It seems to be a problem that I’ve acquired.”
Tex took out a thin paper and held it gently in his left hand. He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a pouch of tobacco. He tapped a little of it onto the paper. After he’d rolled it into a thin cylinder, he ran it under his nose and inhaled its pungent aroma.
“What’s it like being a lawman?” she asked him. “Do you ever wish you could just stay put somewhere?”