“There is less and less water the further east we ride.”
“Then perhaps we should ride west,” she suggested and shrugged at his brief look of disgust. “If there is no rain soon there will some very hard times in this area.”
“And I’m sorry for those who will suffer, but my main concern at the moment is us and these horses. If the water keeps diminishing at the rate it has been, it’ll only be a day or two before there is none to be found.”
“We could stay close to the railroad tracks. Trains need water and keep a supply all along the tracks.”
“And your aunt will be riding the train on those same tracks. If that woman catches sight of us, I would not be surprised if she leaps out of a window or a door of the moving train.”
Ella vainly tried to bite back a laugh, then giggled when he caught her at it. “Sorry, you make my aunt sound so formidable.”
“She is.” He stood up, tethered the horses to the stunted brush on the riverbank, and started to unsaddle them. “You kept telling me so. I finally listened.”
“That is not exactly to my advantage.” She frowned out at the grassland that encircled them as he set their things down and started to make a fire. “I would make that fire very small and very carefully contained,” she said.
“I’m always careful with a fire,” he murmured, glancing up at her.
“I know. I just felt a need to ask you to be especially careful tonight. This is wildfire weather.”
“Wildfire?”
“I suppose they don’t have that problem in Pennsylvania. Everything is dry, dangerously dry. We’re sitting in the middle of a field of tinder. One stray spark and this will all catch alight and burn like an old barn full of dry hay.”
Harrigan shook his head. “I really didn’t need something else to worry about.”
“Sorry,” she murmured as she took the blankets and spread them out. “I’m just nervous. This land we’re crossing is clearly in the middle of a serious drought. That trickle of water that used to be a river is not enough to protect us from fire. And, although it pains me to admit to it, fire is one thing I have always been deeply afraid of.”
“Were you caught in one?” he asked as she sat down next to him while he prepared their meager supper.
“No, but I have seen a few and remember a little too clearly what a fire can do to animals, people, and property. I also recall how hard the fires were fought, yet the fire still won.”
She fell silent and Harrigan concentrated on fixing them a meal, not eager to break the solemn quiet. Despite how hard it made cooking, he kept the fire so low it barely reached the tops of the rocks he had encircled it with. He had fought a fire or two in his time and knew what she meant. When a fire reached full strength it roared over everything and everyone in its path. Glancing around, he realized she was right. They were sitting in the middle of miles of tinder with no place to escape a fire if one started. Although he intended to be very careful, Harrigan knew he would not be able to shake the fear she had unwittingly instilled in him. It was made worse by the knowledge that there were many other ways a fire could start besides carelessness with a campfire.
They were both yawning by the time they finished their meal. As Ella went to the river to wash up before bed, Harrigan worked to make the fire as safe as possible, piling a second layer of stones around it and dampening the ground. He could not bring himself to douse it completely for, although they did not need its warmth, they still needed its protection. Harrigan was sure there were wild animals roaming the vast open grasslands they crossed and he did not want one sneaking up on him. The fire would make any animal keep its distance.
Ella barely spoke when she returned, stripped to her camisole and pantaloons. She carefully placed her clothes on her bag and crawled beneath the blanket with an obvious weariness. As he moved to clean up for bed, Harrigan was glad that he shared her exhaustion, for she was in no state to satisfy any urge save for sleep.
When he joined her in their rough bed he gently pulled her into his arms. Her body was already heavy with approaching sleep and he found it easy to push aside his desire for her in deference to her need for rest. He idly stroked her hair as she curled her body more comfortably against his.
“There is a heaviness to the air. Perhaps it will rain soon,” he said in a soft voice, unable to completely dismiss the concern about fire from his mind.
“Out here there can be a heaviness in the air, but the storm never appears, or it thunders and crackles with lightning, but no rain.” She closed her eyes, part of her telling her to stay alert for danger, but a greater part demanding sleep.
“And the lightning starts the fires.”
“I fear so. Go to sleep, Harrigan.”
“You put such thoughts in my head, tell me that I’m lying down in nature’s fireplace waiting for a match to strike, then tell me to sleep?” He smiled when she chuckled.
“I always feel it’s best when worries are shared.”
“Worry doesn’t seem to steal away your sleep, however.”
“No sense in both of us being awake.”
He just laughed and fell quiet, letting the soft sounds of the night relax him. Ella close at his side, her gentle breathing, and the light weight of her warm, slim body also worked to soothe him. Harrigan grimaced when he realized that he would find it hard to sleep alone once she was gone. He closed his eyes and tried to push those thoughts from his mind. Fate had thrust them together and the needs of his large family would ensure that they had to part. There was nothing he could do to change that.
“I think you should take the gag off George now, Louise,” drawled Joshua, smiling at the couple seated across from him on the train. “The other passengers are beginning to talk.”
Louise tore her gaze from the troubling scenery passing by the window of the train and looked at George, who sat next to her. A sigh holding both resignation and irritation escaped her as she yanked off the gag she had stuffed in his mouth then undid the ropes binding his wrists together. She gave Joshua a look that cried “traitor” when the youth handed George his canteen. When she heard the other three young men seated across the aisle laugh softly, she sent them a brief glare as well.
“You can’t gag everyone who says something you disagree with,” Joshua said as he relaxed in his seat.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Louise replied, then grimaced when she heard the somewhat childish petulance tainting her voice.
“I did apologize for my hasty judgment,” George said as he gave Joshua back his canteen.
“It was not so much the insult you gave Ella, who did not deserve it, but that tone of stuffy moral outrage that set my teeth on edge.”
“Stuffy?” George murmured, but Louise ignored his interruption.
“I had my fill of that when I was in Philadelphia. Half or more of the women who acted so righteous, shook their well coiffed heads, and clucked their busy tongues, were far from sainthood. They judged me on rumor and innuendo and cast me out of their little society as fast as they could. I know it was not because of the murder I was falsely accused of, either. They pushed me out of the nest because they wanted to, because I did not fit their ideals. I was not one of them. ”
“I’m sure it was unpleasant to have friends turn against you.”
“Unpleasant?” Louise could not help herself, she giggled. “George, you do have a way with words.” She quickly grew serious again. “I don’t miss a one of them. Truth is, although I counted them as friends, I realized I was never close to any of them. It is the injustice of it all that still angers me. The pettiness of those people is still a sore spot on my skin. They treated poor Ella in a like manner. True, they never cast her out completely, but they never allowed her in either. It can leave one feeling as if there is nowhere that she belongs. The younger one is, the harder that is. I thought the new lands out west would be different, and they are a little, but I still didn’t fit.” She winked at Joshua. “So I made my own little society
and only the best can join.”
“And you intend to keep Ella as part of that little group,” George said quietly.
“I do. I know you and that fool Harrigan do not believe it, but Harold means to kill her. Even if he didn’t, I would still fight to keep her from being taken back to Philadelphia. There is nothing there for her, no family, no friends. Even Harold barely tolerates the girl’s presence in his house.”
“It does sound a very sad situation, but the law says Harold Carson is her guardian, not you. The only way you can win this is to have her rightful guardian changed, to depose Harold from the position.”
“That is never going to happen. Harold owns too many judges and lawyers and others of prominence in that city.”
“Then you must wait until she is of age to do as she pleases.”
Louise cursed softly. “You don’t listen, do you? Harold will never let Ella reach that age. Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Then why are we even playing this game? Why don’t you just let her go?”
“I am not the one who makes that decision. I work for Harrigan. There is also still the law to consider. It says she belongs with Harold. Perhaps I am a coward, but I do not feel comfortable breaking the law, no matter how unfair that law or ruling may be. Now, you may be able to convince me that Harold Carson means her only ill, but the law needs a great deal more than your word. So, I fear, does Harrigan.”
“You know, you have a very annoying skill of always sounding so reasonable.” She felt a definite softening within her when he gave her one of his fleeting smiles and quickly turned her attention to what was passing by the window. “Of course, none of this may matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Harrigan and Ella may not ever make it to Philadelphia,” she replied, finally putting her growing fear into words.
“Harrigan is not without skill,” George said in his friend’s defense.
“I am sure he is a clever fellow. He cannot, however, make it rain, can he?” When she glanced at George and saw the faint look of confusion on his face, she pointed at the passing scenery. “It’s dry out there. Bone dry. Miles and miles of parched grass and dirt. There is a drought going on in this land. I’m sure of it.”
“It does look bad,” agreed Joshua. “There is still time for some rain before the summer sets in hard, though.”
“True, but I think this land needs a lot more than a few late-season showers,” said Louise.
“If Harrigan needs water, he’ll go into town or find one of the railroad’s water holes or water towers,” said George. “He’ll understand the danger of getting too low on water.”
“Yes, but the way you’re talking tells me that he might not understand the dangers a parched land can present. There’s the danger of wildfires. They can decimate miles of grassland and all that is in their path in the blink of an eye. Animals desperate for a drink can lose their natural reticence around man.”
George frowned as he stared out her window, trying to see all that she did. “Harrigan will do all he can to be sure your niece is safe. And, as Joshua says, the rains could still come.”
“They could, but the storm that brings them can be just another threat. You haven’t been out this way before, have you, George?”
“No. I haven’t done much more traveling than to move from Boston to Philadelphia.”
“Well, the storms out here can be fierce and deadly. They can put down a wind that rips apart everything in its path. The more I look out there, the more I study the skies and the ground, the more I worry.”
George lightly patted her hand where it lay clenched tightly in her lap. “They won’t be in this land for long.”
“I hope not. In truth, I could almost wish Ella was in Philadelphia. At least she can fight Harold.”
Chapter Eleven
Ella took a small sip of water from her canteen then poured some into a battered tin bowl and gave her little mare a drink. An idle shake of her canteen proved her worst fears. They were rapidly running out of water. Despite his reluctance to draw near any towns, Harrigan was slowly veering back toward the railroad tracks. The trains needed a constant and ready supply of water and there would be some at various points along the tracks. For two days Harrigan had resisted doing that, certain that they could find sufficient water elsewhere, but it was proving impossible. Each place he went to, places where his charts, maps, and notations had promised water, they had found little more than mud. Now he had no other choice, for, if they did not find water soon, they would not have a drop left and no guarantee of replenishing their supply, and that was a peril Ella had no wish to experience.
She slumped against her placidly grazing horse and watched Harrigan gently remove a pebble from his horse’s hoof. They had halted the moment his mount had developed a slight limp. The man took very good care of their animals and obviously valued them. Ella thought again of the time he had threatened to kill Polly. She knew for certain now that he would never have carried out that threat. She was annoyed that he had tricked her, but mostly she was annoyed that she had fallen for the ruse.
Taking out her handkerchief, she dabbed at the perspiration on her face. The air was almost chokingly heavy. Some very black clouds were rolling toward them from the west and Ella prayed that they would hurry up. Not only would a storm clear the air for a while, but it would bring some much-needed rain. And a little rain would serve to tamp down the invasive dust, she thought, as she brushed off her skirts.
“I’ll have to ride George’s horse for now,” Harrigan said as he took the rope lead off George’s horse and fixed it on his own mount. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Hot, tired, sore, and uneasy,” she replied.
“Uneasy? About what?”
“Water and weather. Too little of the first and too much of the second.”
Harrigan cast a brief, wary look toward the black clouds chasing them. “It does look like a bad storm. It might not catch up to us, though. We still have fair skies over our heads.”
“True. Hot and weighty fair skies. The air is so heavy I sometimes feel we’ll need to push it out of our way as we ride through it.”
He smiled wearily and nodded. “A little rain would clear the air some, probably be very refreshing.”
“Very. Although, if that grey haze I can see beneath the clouds is not just a vision caused by the heat, that storm is carrying more rain than we might want.” She grimaced, wondering if her unease was a product of her exhaustion and nothing else. “Part of me wants that storm to hurry up and get here even if it is tossing rain down by the bucketful.”
“But? There is a definite but in your voice.”
“The but is that I don’t like the look of those clouds. They are fierce and very alive. You can see the lightning they’re are spitting out from here. If that touches a dry patch, even the rains won’t stop the fire it can start. I do not claim to be very knowledgeable about such things, but those clouds look like ones that could set down a killing wind, the kind that rips up and smashes everything in its path.”
“A tornado,” Harrigan said in a soft voice, a little relieved that she held the same concerns he did, for it meant he did not have to hide them.
“Have you heard of such things?”
“Heard of them and seen one. You must know that they occasionally do their deadly dance over parts of Pennsylvania. You lived there long enough.” When she nodded, he continued. “One descended upon a part my uncle called home. We survived as did the house. Well, all except the windows. But the destruction it left behind was indescribable. George and my uncle occasionally have friendly arguments about which is worse, hurricanes or tornadoes. Personally, I don’t care which is worse. I would prefer never to have to deal with either.” He grasped her by the waist and set her in her saddle. “Going to stay with me? If you swear not to try and escape today, you can hold your own reins.”
“I swear it. You
’ll be blessed with my best behavior until midnight.” She exchanged a brief grin with him as he handed her her reins then mounted George’s horse. “I would prefer to have control of Polly if we suddenly feel a need to run for our lives.”
“Thought you might.”
As they rode, Ella could not stop herself from periodically glancing behind her. The threatening clouds appeared closer each time she looked. She seriously considered spurring her little mare into a gallop and trying to outrun the storm, then inwardly told herself not to be foolish. The horses were suffering from the weather as badly as she and Harrigan were. A mad gallop now would quickly sap their strength and, quite probably, gain them nothing at all. It was almost impossible to outrun such a huge, fast-moving storm. Considering the risks such a storm held, Ella knew it was wiser and safer to conserve the strength of their horses. There was still the chance that they would have to make a run for their lives.
When the wind suddenly picked up, pushing hard against Ella’s back, she tensed. The first plump drops of cool rain were refreshing, but she barely had a minute to savor their gentle cooling when the deluge began. Despite the lingering greyish light of day, it was nearly impossible to see through the heavy curtain of rain, and their pace slowed. Knowing how hard Harrigan was working to keep them on their chosen trail and try to find them some shelter, Ella hunkered down, struggled to stay close to him, and said nothing. Then, suddenly, she was alert, fighting to pick out one particular sound mixed in with the noise of the storm.
“Harrigan,” she shouted, relieved when he turned his rain-soaked face toward her. “Are we near the tracks?”
“The railroad tracks? No. Why do you ask?”
“I’m sure I hear a train. Although, it’s not exactly the right sound for a train. More a roar than a chugga-chugga.”
“Oh my God.”
Wild Roses Page 13