Cassandra Austin

by Trusting Sarah

  River wanted to laugh. She was good at this! For a moment, he had almost felt sorry for her. “I won’t let you hurt that boy,” he said softly. “Tell me what you want.”

  Anger flared in her eyes, and she turned away, intending to go back to her fire, to ignore him and his question.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, catching her arm and spinning her around.

  She was lighter than he realized, and the quick jerk brought her up hard against his chest. Later, he would remember the gasp of alarm that escaped from her soft pink lips and the look of surprise in the deep brown eyes. Now, all he was aware of was the shock of contact and the voice behind them.

  “Hey!” Rice strode quickly toward them as they stepped apart. “What’s going on?”

  “Sarah’s skirts were too close to the fire,” River said easily.

  Sarah was too flustered to respond. She was sure her cheeks were flaming and her voice would shake if she tried to speak. Rice didn’t give her time, anyway. He rushed to her side, concern evident on the young face. “You really gotta be careful, Miss Sarah. I seen a woman catch her skirts on fire once. It was awful scary. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine, Rice, really. I wasn’t as close as I may have looked.” She glanced at the dark scowl on River’s face.

  “Let me help you with the kettle frame,” Rice went on. “Eli oughta be doing this. Where is he anyway?”

  “You’re doing a perfect impression of him yourself,” River said, turning on his heel and walking away.

  “What’s got under his saddle?” Eli joined them from the opposite direction. “He’s been in a prickly mood all day.”

  Rice shuffled his feet. “I think he’s mad at me. He asked me to do some trick riding with him, but I said I couldn’t ‘cause I was gonna read to Miss Sarah.”

  “Well, that sounds about right. Wouldn’t want nothin’ to interfere with his play.” Eli’s grumblings turned unintelligible as he went to the back of the wagon and removed ingredients for supper.

  “Rice,” Sarah said softly. “We can read anytime. How often do you get to do something with River?”

  She watched several emotions play across his face as he looked in the direction River had taken. “I do like reading about knights and such, Miss Sarah,” he said finally. “But, well...”

  “Besides,” she interjected, “if you’re going to do some trick riding, I’d like to watch.”

  The young face brightened. He started away at once but turned back to thrust the kettle into Sarah’s hands. Sarah couldn’t hold back a small chuckle as she watched him run to find his friend.

  Eli’s loud grumbling cut it short, and she hurried to hang the kettle on the frame, which had already started to warm. Eli was glaring at her with his hands on his hips when she turned around. “Well, go on with ya!” he said. “I heard what ya told the boy. I don’t need none of your help, anyhow.”

  She didn’t wait for him to change his mind.

  * * *

  River held the pinto’s halter and looked at the boy above him. Rice sat high in the tree, poised to jump from the branch. “I can do it with the horse moving,” he yelled to his friend.

  “I know you can,” River said with a smile. “First do it this way.”

  Rice pushed away from the branch and landed smoothly on the horse’s bare back. The horse sidestepped a little but settled down quickly, and Rice slid off. “Walk him under me this time,” he said, barely short of breath.

  “All right.” River led the horse away as the boy climbed the tree again. The landing was nearly as smooth as before. “Let’s try it once more,” River said as Rice slid from the horse’s back. “Be ready for anything.” Rice grinned and scrambled up the tree.

  This time River led the horse at a fast walk toward the tree. At the last possible moment he turned and went around the trunk, bringing the horse under Rice from the opposite direction. Rice saw it coming, grabbed the branch where he sat and turned around as he lowered himself onto the horse’s back.

  River nodded his approval.

  “Let me show you what I’ve been practicing,” said Rice, breathless more from anticipation than exertion.

  River raised his eyebrows. “Practicing on what?”

  “Mr. Milburn’s black.”

  River shook his head. Milburn’s horse wasn’t as reliable as the pinto, and he was surprised Milburn had given the boy permission. Of course, the black was Rice’s now.

  River relinquished the pinto’s reins and leaned against the tree as he watched the boy ride a few yards away. He couldn’t help but be pleased with the evening. Rice was showing considerable skill at riding and was quick to figure out any trick River could show him. The boy was obviously having fun, as well.

  Part of his pleasure came from knowing he had won a small victory over Sarah. She had made plans for Rice, but the boy had chosen to be with him instead. He would make the most of it.

  Rice rode by at a good gallop, dropping out of sight on the horse’s far side as he passed the tree. He pulled himself upright again and reined around. River applauded the feat and caught the reins as Rice dismounted.

  “How many times did you fall, trying to learn that one?”

  “Too many to count,” admitted the boy, laughing. “Show me the running mount again. I can’t never get that.”

  “It’ll get easier as you get taller.” River clapped the boy’s back as he led the horse a few steps farther from the tree.

  * * *

  Sarah watched from the shadow of Martha’s wagon. She had been afraid to follow Rice any farther. If she was too near, her presence might be a distraction and cause him to get hurt. She tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with not wanting River to see her.

  Occasionally Martha had come to stand beside her, and the two women had exchanged exclamations at the daring tricks they saw performed across the meadow. But Martha had dinner to prepare, and only Amy remained with her now.

  River leaped onto the back of the moving horse and set him running toward the trees. The spectacle gave Sarah several moments of alarm as the rider risked life and limb, first one way then another.

  “I can’t do that,” said Amy.

  “Me, either,” Sarah agreed, smiling down at the wide-eyed girl. “I don’t think I even want to try.”

  “I do,” said the child, still staring at the running horse.

  “Don’t try it until you’re a lot bigger.”

  “Or find a little bitsy horse.” Martha, coming up behind her, laid her hands on Amy’s shoulders. “Dinner’s ready.” The four-year-old ran toward the fire. “Want to join us?” Martha asked Sarah.

  Sarah shook her head. “I should be back helping Eli.” She wanted one last look. River had dismounted, and Rice held the reins as River explained something that required more than a little gesturing.

  “Just don’t let him catch you watching him like that,” Martha whispered. “He’ll read everything that’s in your heart.”

  “I was watching Rice,” Sarah said quickly.

  “Uh-huh.” Martha laughed as she turned to join her family.

  With Martha gone, Sarah allowed herself the pleasure of really studying the man she once loved. He stood, his back to the tree, calling instructions to Rice. The strong, warm voice reached her ears. She watched him lean his shoulders against the tree and allow one long leg to cross the other at the ankles. He waved to Rice, then folded his arms as he relaxed to watch. The fringe on the buckskin jacket danced with the movement. The jacket and boots fit River as well as the fashionable suits had fit Daniel. It made Sarah curious about the changes she couldn’t see.

  He had discarded his hat and the wind ruffled his golden hair, and Sarah remembered the texture as if she had just run her fingers through it. His beard was barely visible from this far away. Had it grown enough to be soft? She could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes, though she couldn’t see it.

  The boy and horse flashed between them. Sarah barely noticed. Riv
er applauded and shouted to Rice. Sarah didn’t even know what Rice had done.

  River’s head turned then, and he looked toward the wagons. Sarah had the feeling he looked straight at her. She had been sure she was in enough shadow that that wasn’t possible. But then he was in the shade of the tree, and she could see him quite clearly. Martha’s warning came back to her, and she found it difficult to handle his gaze, even at this distance. She waved goodbye to Martha and the family and walked to Eli’s fire.

  River watched Sarah walk away and wondered how long she had been watching. He smiled at Rice. “You’ll have that one down in no time. You hungry?” At the boy’s nod he added, “It’ll be getting dark soon. Take care of the horse?”

  “Sure thing. Can we work on shooting next time?”

  “Depends on where we are. Now go, before Eli burns up all the food.” The boy led the horse away, and River glanced toward the wagons. He would check to see that all the guards were in place and knew who their replacements were. After that he could eat and turn in.

  He felt reluctant to return to camp. A few minutes ago he had been planning to gloat over a victory that now seemed hollow. He just wasn’t sure about Sarah Tanton. When he thought of what she had done, he knew he couldn’t trust her, but sometimes she seemed changed. It was almost as if she were someone else. It left him wondering if it was an act.

  He had to get her alone, get her talking, watch her face, maybe figure her out. He chuckled at himself. He was standing in the gloom of evening, staring at the wagons where he had last seen Sarah, telling himself he was going to figure her out. “That,” he muttered, starting toward the first guard, “is not very likely.”

  Chapter Five

  Friday morning the train pulled away from the river and followed the army road once again. It ran roughly parallel to the stream, far enough away to be unhampered by the trees. Sarah thought the army had cared too much for efficiency and not enough for beauty. She would rather have kept to the shade of the trees and meandered with the river.

  She and Rice walked beside the wagon. Rice, whip in hand, kept the team moving. “Awful pretty here, ain’t it, Miss Sarah?” he offered.

  It was his third attempt at conversation, and Sarah scolded herself for not being better company. She murmured her agreement, wishing she could be as easily contented as young Rice. He sprang back from disaster while merely the possibility of a threat had her jumping at shadows. Who was she kidding? She had jumped at shadows before Daniel reappeared, and she probably would all her life.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” Rice said.

  Sarah looked at him sharply and saw the sadness in his face. “What are you talking about?”

  “I figured I hurt your feelings last night, going off with River...or somethin’.”

  Sarah sighed and squeezed his arm. “My mood has nothing to do with you. Folks are just like that sometimes. Don’t think that you’re to blame.”

  Rice nodded. “You really don’t mind that I didn’t read to you last night, Miss Sarah? I do like King Arthur and all, but...”

  “Of course not, Rice. We’ll have a lot more evenings to read. Mr. Milburn would be pleased to know you’re enjoying his gift.”

  Rice clearly liked the idea. “He got it for me in St. Louis more’n a year ago. I ‘spect he thought I never would get it read.”

  It was a good sign, she thought, that he could talk about Milburn with a smile on his face. “Well, last night I enjoyed watching you and River ride. You’re both very good.”

  Rice’s grin broadened. “You think so, Miss Sarah? Did we scare you?”

  Sarah laughed at the mischief in the boy’s eyes. “Is that why you were doing it? To scare me?”

  “Nah. But it’s no fun if it looks easy.”

  Sarah laughed.

  Abruptly Rice hollered and waved. She knew River must be coming, but she didn’t turn to look. She didn’t like the way her heart either plummeted to her stomach or leaped to her throat every time she saw him. She was scared of him, attracted to him and resentful all at once. She could hear the pounding of his horse’s hooves and finally looked up. The handsome face wore a broad grin. Throat this time, she thought ruefully. Now she couldn’t look away.

  River reined the pinto and dismounted, falling into step beside them. “Want to ride for a while, Rice?” he asked.

  Rice looked at the wagon seat, starting to shake his head. River laughed and held the reins toward him.

  “Sure do!” The boy handed Sarah the whip, taking the reins eagerly.

  “No funny stuff,” River warned. “Just ride with the wagons.”

  Rice nodded and swung into the saddle. He waved as he sent River’s pinto trotting toward the end of the train.

  Sarah was smiling after him. It took a second to realize she was now alone with River. She turned and found him watching her intently. Her shock must have been easy for River to read on her face. She couldn’t help it; throat to stomach was a long drop.

  She hurried to catch up with the wagon that had moved on while they had not. The oxen were slowing, and if they stopped she wasn’t sure she knew how to make them start again, though she had watched Rice often enough.

  Before she had gone a dozen steps, River caught her around the waist, slipping the whip from her hand. “Whoa there!” he called. “Let’s ride.” He lifted her to the step as the slowly moving wagon came to a stop. There was no room to argue; she had to either grab hold or fall.

  River climbed up the side of the wagon after her and cracked the whip over the backs of the team. She settled herself on the seat, automatically going still to hide her nervousness.

  “We didn’t finish our conversation last night. I’ll ask again. What do you want with Rice?”

  Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How could she explain what Rice had come to mean to her? She hadn’t fully understood herself until she had thought of losing his friendship.

  When she didn’t answer, he spoke again. “I’ve never known you at a loss for words.”

  That brought a humorless laugh to her lips. “Do you know what prison was like, Daniel?”

  He shook his head. “All I know is you weren’t there long enough.”

  Sarah felt tears come to her eyes and was grateful for the bonnet that hid her face. “It wouldn’t have taken much longer,” she managed to say softly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He shifted his weight a little on the wagon seat, and Sarah wondered if it wasn’t the conversation that made him uncomfortable.

  She didn’t care. She would tell him this much at least. “We couldn’t talk, Daniel. Unless it was necessary for our work, we weren’t allowed to talk. It’s called the Silent System and is supposed to give us time to think. I watched it drive more than one inmate crazy.” Her voice cracked at the end, and she swallowed hard.

  Much as she wanted to make him understand, she realized she wasn’t able to talk about the past six years, not yet. But now, while he was here alone with her, was her chance to explain the night that had changed everything. She took a deep breath and began. “Daniel, six years ago—”

  He cut her off. “Was six years ago. I’m more interested in now.”

  His refusal to listen made her angry. It was a welcome change from the tears she had felt a few seconds before. “All right,” she said softly, “let’s talk about now, Mr. River Whatever-you-call-yourself. Why change your name?” She pushed the bonnet off her head and turned to watch him. “You weren’t accused of anything six years ago. Why the new identity if even I have the courage to use my own name?”

  River had the grace to look embarrassed. “It’s not really a new identity,” he said.

  She looked him over and asked incredulously, “It’s not?”

  River returned her gaze, feeling suddenly on the defensive. “No, it’s not. Look, a lot has happened in six years...”

  “Not for me.”

  He let that hang in the air and fought a surprising urge to tell her he was s
orry. She had been through a hell he couldn’t even imagine. He found himself wondering how long it would take her stiff body to relax if he drew her into his arms, and decided conversation was the best defense against such fantasies. “I saved a little Indian girl from drowning,” he said. “A chief in her family’s tribe named me Saves Child from River.”

  A slow smile played on Sarah’s lips, surprising them both. “And you liked it.”

  He grinned a little sheepishly. “Well, I was working for the army, leading the Indian scouts. It didn’t hurt to have an Indian name.”

  Sarah tried to reconcile this with the Daniel she remembered. Finally she shook her head. “Why did you come west, Daniel? Your father must have been against it.”

  River chuckled. “I would imagine you’re right. I didn’t bother to ask. I just left. The old man’s probably disowned me by now.”

  Because of me? she wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. She looked for traces of hurt on his face. If he felt any, he hid it well.

  “What you did added just a little too much strain to our relationship,” he continued. “But some time ago I realized it was for the best. I’m not sure when I would have broken away from him, otherwise.” He pushed his hat to the back of his head and looked across at the horizon for a moment, taking in the rolling hills and vivid blue sky, before he smiled down at her. “I like what I’m doing.”

  Sarah returned the smile and nodded. She wanted to tell him she was happy for him, but somehow it was harder to put into words than it should have been.

  River found himself staring at the sad eyes and sweet lips and had to turn away. But God, it was difficult! Memories of Sarah Tanton came back to him unbidden, memories of dancing and parties, laughter and love, of the sweet feel of her in his arms. I was such a fool, he thought, trying to shake away the feelings. He had been certain that the pain had wiped all that from his mind.

  “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said gruffly. “I want to talk about Rice.”

  “He’s very fond of you,” she said quietly. “I understand he thought of Milburn as his father. Do you realize he’s expecting you to take over that position?”