“‘After one week, I would think Matthew’s mood would have improved, but he is more irritable than ever. Most of the day I walk, which is really difficult since my dresses are so heavy with the added weight, but it is better than riding in the wagon with him. Tonight I plan to tell him—’” Jake stopped reading since he didn’t think she sounded particularly happy that day, and if there was trouble between her and her husband it might be best not to read this aloud. He was curious so he finished reading the entry silently.
Tonight I plan to tell him that once we reach Aunt Nettie’s he should turn around and go back home. If he is pining for Emily Bouchard, he can just go back to her! I’m tired of his sulking!
Jake stared at her. She was going to tell her husband to leave her alone once they reached wherever they were going! Maybe her husband should have turned her over his knee and showed her who was boss. He didn’t know why her husband didn’t want to leave their home, but surely he had a good reason. But what if there was another woman in the picture . . . this Emily Bouchard? Impossible! How could any man want another woman when he had a woman as beautiful as this one? Of course, she could be a shrew, he told himself. He’d seen beautiful women with quick tempers, and they quickly became less attractive. He moved to the next entry, but first, he thought prudently, he’d read it to himself.
Since Matthew and I talked, his mood has greatly improved, and the trip is much more enjoyable. The ladies and I spend a great deal of time talking as we walk, and I couldn’t ask for more agreeable traveling companions. While Mr. Vincent is a competent leader, I am still concerned about the lack of firearms. I understand their religious beliefs, but I do think it unwise that we are out here in this wild country with no means of defense. Matthew agreed to their stipulations that we would bring no weapons, saying Mr. Vincent’s own wife was on this journey, so it had to be safe. I did not agree, nor did Mr. Vincent ask my opinion. Why do men assume a woman cannot shoot? I haven’t told Matthew that my pistol is hidden inside my fur muff in my trunk. I feel better knowing it is there, and I’m grateful to Father for teaching me how to shoot.
He could hardly believe what he was reading. He looked over at her again. The gun was hers. Those men had no guns, not even rifles! That made him angry. If they didn’t care about their own hides, they should have considered how they would protect the women. Reading that, he almost understood why she wanted her husband to go back home if he wasn’t the kind of man who would protect her. If she were his wife he would do everything in his power to keep her safe from harm. He didn’t know where that thought came from, but it was the truth. As far as he was concerned, she had more guts, not to mention sense, than all those men combined. He read this entry aloud as he kept his eye on her for any indication that she could hear him. When he said the word father, he was sure her eyelids fluttered.
He leaned over her. “Honey, are you awake? If you can hear me, just know you’re safe and no one will hurt you here,” he told her softly. This time he was positive her eyelids moved, almost like she was too tired to open her eyes. “If you can, you need to wake up, you need something to eat. If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t have any weight to lose.” His eyes roamed over the quilt covering her. She was delicately built, but he remembered what she looked like in her wet undergarments. To his way of thinking she was perfectly formed, with a lot of curves packed into a small frame, but she could use a few pounds. He continued talking to her until he fell asleep.
When Jake awoke, his first glance was at Promise. He scrambled to his knees when he saw that she had changed positions. “Honey, are you awake?” She didn’t respond, so he checked the pulse at her neck. It was definitely stronger than before, but she was still asleep or unconscious. He wasn’t sure what to call her condition. Last night, before he drifted off, he decided he’d ride back to Dodge City, find a doctor, and bring him to her. He also planned to find out if anyone from the small wagon train had stopped in Dodge. There was always a chance they’d stopped for supplies like he had. It wouldn’t take him that long to get to town, and that seemed like the best alternative, not to mention he’d rest easier once a doctor checked her out.
When Jake walked through the door of the general store in Dodge, the owner recognized him from his first visit. A man his size was sure to draw attention, plus he had the most uncommon eyes, black as night, and an overall intimidating appearance. “Did you forget something?”
“No, I had some questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.” The owner stopped stacking cans on the shelf and moved to the counter.
“Do you remember if any men came in here just before my last visit who might have been with a wagon train?”
“Yessir, I do. Three men came in for supplies. They said they were from the Southeast coast and were going to Colorado.”
“Did they say where in Colorado?”
“No, they didn’t say, but they told me they’d saved up for several years to make that trip. Said they had grown children in Colorado that they hadn’t seen in a long time. Grandchildren too. Nice folks, but there was something odd about them.”
“How’s that?”
“They weren’t armed. Well, I didn’t notice it myself, but some men who were in here buying some cartridges noticed, and told them they might run into Indians. I expected the travelers to say they left rifles with the other folks on the wagon train. But you know what they said?” He didn’t wait for a response, saying, “They said they weren’t even carrying guns, it was against their beliefs.” He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Can you believe that? They were traveling all that way with no guns.”
“Did you know the men who talked to them?”
“No, they were strangers, but they’d been in town a few days. Spent most of their time in the saloon, drinking and playing poker. Looked like troublemakers, if you know what I mean.”
Jake knew, all right. He’d seen plenty of men like that. “Did they say anything else that you can remember?”
“Not that I remember. But those drifters talked to them while they were loading their supplies.”
“Have you seen those drifters around town lately?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, they’re still hanging around. You can probably find them at the saloon.”
Jake walked to the saloon, but finding it empty, he headed to the sheriff ’s office. According to the sheriff, there had been about a dozen strangers hanging around town, but he hadn’t seen them for a couple of days. He described them in the same way: no-account drifters. The sheriff didn’t know anything about the folks on the wagon train. Once Jake finished talking with the sheriff, he went in search of the doctor. Thirty minutes later he was riding out of Dodge with Doc Parsons.
Chapter Five
“I’ve seen two cases like this before,” Doc Parsons told Jake after his examination of Promise.
“Do you think she’s going to come around?” Jake asked.
“Hard to say, but she’s young and her heart is strong, all good signs. Still, no one can last long without food and water.”
“We’ve been tryin’ to get some soup and water down her, but I don’t think much is going down,” Shorty said.
“You said she’s moved?”
Jake nodded. “Sometime during the night.”
“One time today when I checked on her I was certain she was going to open her eyes,” Shorty added. “Her eyelashes looked like butterfly wings flutterin’ in the wind.”
“I saw her do that last night,” Jake said.
“That’s good. I think this bodes well for her. This is just the third night, so there is time.” The doctor turned to Jake, his expression serious. “I’m compelled to tell you, sometimes when people have been unconscious for a while, their memory can be a bit sketchy when they regain consciousness. I treated one man who took a nasty hit on his head and it took him a few days to come around. It was almost a year before he regained his full memory. In some cases I�
��ve read about, the people never remember what happened to them.”
“But she might remember everything right away?” Jake hoped when she came around she would be able to tell him who was responsible for killing those folks.
“Yes, it’s possible. I’m just preparing you for what could happen.” The doctor patted Jake on the shoulder. “Let’s hope for the best.”
“Do you think it would hurt her to travel?” Jake asked.
“I can’t see why it would. She doesn’t have any broken bones. You might as well be on your way. From what you told me, she would be safer with you than in Dodge.”
Jake reached into his pocket and handed the doctor some money. “Doc, keep what I told you to yourself. It’ll be morning before long, so you should get dry by the fire and rest for a few hours. I will have two of my men ride back with you.” Jake couldn’t really spare the men, but the doc had been nice enough to ride all this way in the drizzling rain. It was also too dangerous for one man to ride alone in this territory.
“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that. If you happen to stop in Denver for supplies, my brother, Clarke, owns a general store there. You’ll want to see him instead of his competition; he’ll deal honestly with you. It seems like a rancher by the name of Schott is trying to take over everything in Denver. He’s tried to buy my brother out, but Clarke’s stubborn. He had the first store in town, and he says he’ll go toes-up before he lets Schott drive him out. The last letter I received, he wrote that Schott has bought out, or forced out, most of the other smaller ranchers.”
“That’s good to know since we’ll be stopping in Denver. Thanks again, Doc.” Jake shook the doc’s hand. “Shorty will get you something to eat if you’re hungry.”
“Sounds good.”
Jake climbed back inside the wagon with Promise. He took off his boots and holster before he stretched out on the pallet without removing his wet clothes. He glanced at the woman, thinking he no longer had any options. He wasn’t about to leave her in Dodge, since those murdering skunks were still around. They’d assumed she was dead like the rest of those folks on the wagon train. If he took her to Dodge and those killers saw her, they’d make sure she was dead this time, after they got what they wanted. All he had were more questions and few answers. He picked up her journal next to his pallet and started reading where he last left off.
This trip is proving very difficult for the other ladies. I know they are considerably older because they speak of their children who are my age. I try to do the cooking when we stop at night so they can get more rest. Mr. Vincent does his best to accommodate them as much as possible by traveling at a slower pace than he prefers. The ladies do not want to relinquish what few items they are taking with them in order to make room to ride in the wagons. I understand the desire to hold on to things dear, but the men are less understanding. More than once, Matthew has threatened to throw my trunk in the next river, but he understands I packed so many dresses out of necessity. If he does rifle through my trunk he will ruin his own birthday surprise, and it would serve him right. I now spend most of my time walking in this dreadful rain. I keep myself occupied by daydreaming about the cowboys of the West.
Jake smiled. He wondered if her husband was aware of her daydreams. If she would wake up, she could have her wish to meet a cowboy. She’d certainly given him plenty to think about when he was on horseback for hours at a time. He wanted to know why she was so anxious to go West, and he was curious to hear what her voice sounded like. He imagined she might want to go back home when she awoke and remembered everything that had happened. Yeah, he had done his own daydreaming. He finished the final few lines on the page.
I do wish I could ride my beloved Hero, but none of the ladies ride—another thing they cite as scandalous and against their religious beliefs. So I walk with Hero’s reins in my hand so he doesn’t have to ride behind the wagon all day and have mud in his face. I fear he thinks I am cross with him because I am not riding. Still, I am so happy he is with me, and I simply could not leave him behind. Sometimes I think Hero is the only one who understands me.
The women are quite rigid in their beliefs. Today it was so humid that I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my dress to cool down, and the ladies went into a dither. It is tiring at times to hear the many things they view as indecent. It’s not like we are at a social function with the upper crust of society. Who is here to see us out in the middle of nowhere? I have not seen a single soul outside our group. How I wish I could climb on Hero’s back and feel the wind on my face!
This was some woman! She could ride and shoot, and she had the face of an angel. Not only had she lost her husband and all those people, but her horse that she obviously cared a great deal about. It was likely the men that attacked them took her horse. It saddened him to think about how much this little gal would have to face when she regained consciousness.
Looking down at the book, he decided to look at some of her later accounts to see if she’d recorded anything prior to the attack, which might give some insight to the location of her family’s ranch in Colorado.
This land has a rugged beauty that I wish I could capture, but there is no time to stop for painting. My drawings will have to suffice for the time being. When we are settled at the ranch, I shall use them for reference. Mr. Vincent plans to go to Dodge City tomorrow for supplies, but the ladies are not allowed to accompany them since he fears it is a wild town and we would not be safe. I wanted to inform him I have read about the cowboys and they are said to be gentlemen of the first order, but I remained silent. It has been necessary for me to bite my tongue more than once on this trip.
I long to see such a place as Dodge, and when I said as much to Mrs. Vincent, I thought she would have the vapors. If Matthew accompanies Mr. Vincent, I shall have him recount every detail upon his return.
Jake turned to the last page, still smiling over her account of cowboys.
Matthew told me all about Dodge, and it sounds fascinating. He even surprised me with some peppermints for Hero, his very favorite treat. I think he is trying to make up for his surly behavior on this trip—Matthew—not Hero!
Matthew voiced his concern over conversations with men at the mercantile in Dodge. He described them as very rough-looking characters who struck up a conversation with Mr. Vincent and Mr. Colbert. Matthew thought Mr. Colbert divulged too much information about the people on the wagon train, telling them we were transporting all of our worldly goods. Matthew said Mr. Colbert revealed our identity to these men, and hinted we were carrying a large sum of money. I could tell Matthew was extremely upset over this. We have both been taught to be cautious of strangers, and I think that wise, but Mr. Colbert is more trusting. I’m sure he meant no harm discussing our background.
Jake considered what he’d read. Logic told him those strangers were the killers. He could understand her husband not wanting anyone to know the amount of money they were carrying, but why would it concern them for people to know who they were?
He finished reading the remainder of the entry.
Today, as we made camp, some men were watching us from the ridge. Matthew said they were the men they saw in the mercantile, but they did not ride down to greet us. Matthew is quite troubled, and I am fearful these men are bent on doing evil. Mr. Vincent said he will ride to meet them after dinner to find out their intent.
Jake put the journal aside. She must have written this not long before the attack. He figured Mr.Vincent never made that ride.
Three hours later, Jake told the men that they would be moving on. He planned to go at a slower pace than normal, and stop midday to see how Promise was handling the travel. He picked two men to escort the doctor back to Dodge, instructing them to get back as soon as possible.
Jake and Shorty arranged an extra-thick pallet at the front of the wagon for Promise, so Shorty could keep an eye on her as he drove. Before he saddled Preacher, Jake walked to the supply wagon to search Promise’s trunk for the leather folder with her drawings.
He pulled it open and hurriedly looked through all of the drawings: landscapes, the women and men on the wagon train, and a drawing that might prove useful. A drawing of her horse. All the drawings were very well done, but this one was magnificent. At the bottom of the page she had written Hero. The horse was a beauty, big and dark, and his distinctive markings would set him apart: four white stockings and a star on his forehead. No doubt about it, he would recognize this horse if he ever saw him. He would bet the killers took Hero to sell. Such a fine-looking animal would bring a good price.
“If I never see another thunderstorm, it will be too soon,” Cole said, when he rode up beside Jake.
Finding Promise Page 4