Rice had only come to the edge of the camp as if he couldn’t bare to come any closer. “Folks are saying you was in prison. It’s not so, is it, Miss Sarah?”
Though the confusion and hurt she saw on the boy’s face made her want to lie, she felt she had no course now but the truth. “Yes, Rice. It’s true.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
The boy was nearly shouting, and River moved toward him. “Take it easy, Rice.”
“I thought I was your friend.” He glared at Sarah. “You don’t keep secrets from friends.”
River laid his hand on Rice’s shoulder, but the boy turned away. He left the camp at a run, and Sarah started after him.
River stopped her. “Let him go,” he said gently. “Give him time to cool off and think about it.”
Eli spoke from behind them. “He’s just bein’ a fool boy. He’ll be back when he gets hungry.”
Sarah wasn’t convinced. Rice had left the circle of wagons, and it seemed like a big prairie out there, full of dangers for a boy alone. She hoped he would head for the von Schiller wagon. River’s hand was on her arm. He urged her back toward the fire.
“Let’s dig in,” Eli said cheerfully.
River forced a chuckle at the old man. “Rice isn’t the only one who lives by his stomach.” He hoped his smile reassured Sarah.
“‘Course not,” said Eli, carefully removing the tender fish from the spit. “Everybody does, whether they know it or not. Now Sarie here, she worked hard to make this supper. I don’t aim to miss it just ‘cause Rice does. Do him some good to see what hungry’s like.”
Sarah and River exchanged a brief glance before taking their plates from Eli. River related his visits with several of the emigrants, and Eli explained Dr. Carroll’s plan for purifying water. Sarah knew they were both trying to make her feel as if nothing had changed. Eli even tried to draw her into the conversation, but she could bring herself to do little more than nod. River had enough sense to leave her alone.
She had lost Rice. The truth made no apparent difference to the grumpy old man who hated her anyway, but the friendship she had with the young boy would never be the same. Sarah felt the spark of anger ignite inside her and quickly smothered it. Blaming Eli or River would do no good. She had to find her way from this point forward.
In spite of Eli’s words about Rice going hungry, she noticed he wrapped a portion of fish and two potatoes in a damp cloth and left it on a rock by the fire. “‘Course, I may just be feedin’ a coon,” he said with a chuckle.
As she helped Eli clean up from the meal, she stole glances toward the food as if its being there would somehow tempt Rice into returning.
When she finally climbed into the wagon to sleep, it was still where Eli had left it. By morning it was gone.
Sarah became occupied with the usual activity of preparing to leave. She saw little of Rice except when he ate, and then he refused to look at her. River, Eli and Sarah barely spoke. When it was time, Eli directed her to the lead wagon and helped her into the seat before climbing up beside her.
It was Thursday morning, May 26, Sarah reminded herself, and grimaced. Rice was the one who always kept track of the days to make sure they didn’t miss a Saturday night. She glanced at Eli, but he seemed to have already forgotten she was there. It promised to be a long day.
Sarah saw River ride ahead of the lead wagon and wave his hat as signal to begin. He reined the pinto up a short distance off the track to watch the train. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him as Eli started the wagon moving. He seemed completely relaxed, watching the circle of wagons uncoil, and Sarah was reminded of Milburn. She would never have imagined Daniel taking on something like this.
Presently they passed him, and there was nothing to see but the wide, flat prairie. A few cottonwoods grew along the river, but otherwise the view was undistinguished all the way to the low hills that lined the north and south horizons.
Eli was not inclined to converse, and they rode silently for hours. Sarah’s mind skipped from one uncomfortable thought to another, and she missed Rice, with his distracting banter, all the more. When she could stand it no longer, she asked to walk until the noon stop. Up close the prairie was no more interesting than it had seemed from the wagon, and Sarah knew the fault lay more with the beholder than the gently waving grass.
That night they camped on Plum Creek, and Eli sent Sarah out with a large sack to gather buffalo chips. The possum bellies were both full of wood, but Eli was eager to have a buffalo chip fire. She was the only one on the prairie gathering fuel, the others choosing to cut what little wood was available or use up their stored supply.
She tried to ignore the isolation. She had been more lonely in prison, certainly. Here she was free. Taking orders from Eli wasn’t the same as taking them from the guards, and she could argue with him if she wanted to. The thought made her hands shake; she had thought of Eli as the warden since she joined the train. Perhaps she had been unfair.
The evening meal passed much as the morning’s had. Sarah considered trying to get Rice alone, but he avoided her. She decided he had as much right to his anger as anyone.
She cleaned up the last of the dishes and was turning to the fire when River was suddenly beside her. He took her arm and led her outside the circle. When the wagon was between them and Eli’s fire, he stopped her. His hand lingered on her arm before he dropped it self-consciously. Just above a whisper, he asked, “Are you all right, Sarah?”
“How do you mean?” There was an edge to her voice, though she had meant it to sound as soft as River’s.
She saw his face harden and knew he had heard it, too. “Is Eli giving you trouble?” he asked.
She shook her head. Part of her wanted to blame River, but she couldn’t. The rest of her wanted to run into his arms.
He was watching her closely, and she wondered what he could read on her face. Finally he spoke again. “Rice’ll come around.”
She closed her eyes, slowly releasing a breath. An instant later her eyes flew open as she felt his hands on her shoulders. He had stepped closer, and she was nearly in his arms!
“Sarah,” he whispered.
She stepped away from him. Her lips formed a soundless “no” as she backed out of reach.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, holding a hand toward her as if she were a wild creature he was trying to coax toward him. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I just want to...”
River dropped his hand and sighed as she fled for the wagon. Exactly what had he wanted? Somehow with Sarah it was easy to forget. For a moment, he considered following her. Deciding that would be the height of foolishness, he headed for the herd. He had a full three hours of watch to consider how his physical desire had gotten the better of him for a moment. God, what if she hadn’t run?
* * *
Late in the morning, the third day out of Fort Kearny, Eli elbowed Sarah. “Looky what we got here,” he said, pointing. A caravan was coming toward them. Sarah had been watching the distant hills move almost unperceptively past and hadn’t noticed the other train. “Buffalo skinners,” Eli explained. “Can you smell ‘em?”
Sarah glanced at her companion to see if he was teasing. The wagons were so far away she could scarcely make out any details. Eli cracked the whip above the team’s backs and fought the lines as the oxen tried to turn aside. By the time he had them headed in the right direction, they were well off the track.
Sarah could smell the hides now, a strong wild scent of fur mixed with putrid meat. The hunters themselves seemed as dirty and shaggy as the hides piled in the wagons. Eli’s oxen tried to turn again as the wagons came alongside. He let them pull farther away to give the hunters a wide berth. Sarah was glad when they were past and the wind had blown their smell after them.
“Can’t hardly blame the ox for wantin’ to avoid ‘em,” Eli commented.
Sarah pretended the comment had no hidden meaning for her. Rice was the only one actually avoiding her. There wa
s little time for socializing anyway, and other than a few haughty glances, things weren’t so very different from what they had been before. Except for Rice. Sarah’s mind echoed Eli’s words. Can’t hardly blame the boy for wanting to avoid me.
At the noon stop, Sarah threw together a cold lunch while Eli helped Rice and River water the teams. As the men were returning to eat, Prudence Carroll marched toward the lead wagons. River saw her coming and hurried to meet her, hoping to spare Sarah whatever the woman had come to say.
“If you hurry there’s still time,” Prudence called.
“Time for what?” River had to turn and follow as Prudence bustled past him, not pausing until she stood face-to-face with Sarah.
She glared at the younger woman as she caught her breath. “Time to catch those hunters,” she said.
“I’d as soon catch a fever,” Eli said, but Prudence didn’t hear.
She pointed a stubby finger at Sarah. “She can go back with them.”
River saw the shock at this suggestion on Sarah’s face.
Eli grunted and, taking his lunch, walked away. River watched him go with a little envy. He was in charge and had to set her straight, preferably without making her too angry. “Mrs. Carroll,” he began.
Prudence turned to face him. “We should have left her at that fort, but the reverend made me wait.”
“Mrs. Carroll,” he tried again.
“I’m sure they will take her if you don’t tell them much about her.”
River took the woman’s arm. “Allow me to escort you back to your wagon,” he said, propelling her away from Sarah.
“Thank you, but I’m sure you should go as soon as possible. It’s been at least an hour, and they seemed to be moving rather fast.”
River congratulated himself for holding his temper. The woman obviously didn’t realize he wanted to strangle her. Keeping his voice at a reasonable volume, he said, “Sarah will leave the train when, and if, she wants to.”
“You can’t mean to let her—”
River silenced her protests by making her walk faster. He could see both Ernest and the doctor waiting for them and said quickly under his breath, “Stay away from Sarah,” then let her go.
“I intend to do just that,” she responded, and huffed toward her family.
River stomped back to the front of the train, thinking of several things he wished he had said. She was the one he should have left behind. She was the one that ought to be riding back with the buffalo skinners. He pictured her fat body sitting primly on the pile of hides, a lace handkerchief held over her nose. He smiled at the thought.
Sarah was alone at the wagons when he arrived. Eli and Rice had gone to bring in the teams. Sarah handed him his lunch and turned away, busying herself with nothing in particular. River watched her, certain she was fuming. He didn’t think she would stand quietly and be insulted again. As he walked toward the grazing pinto, he wished he hadn’t hurried Prudence away quite so quickly. It would have been good to see Sarah put the woman in her place.
During the afternoon’s march, Sarah tried not to think about what had happened. She tried not to wonder what Rice thought of the woman’s suggestion or why River had returned with the smile on his face. She tried but failed. At camp, Rice’s haste to unhitch the teams reminded her it was Saturday. There would be a dance tonight, the first since the train had divided, the first since River had joined them.
While she and Eli fixed the evening meal, River warmed a small pan of water at the fire and hung a mirror to the side of the wagon. When Sarah realized his intention, she tried not to watch. It was impossible. There was something very intimate about seeing him slowly scrape the razor across his cheek and jaw. In normal conditions it would be something only his family, his wife, would see. She tried to remember what Eli had just asked her to do.
In her continuing effort to ignore River, she kept her attention on Rice through supper. She thought she saw his youthful exuberance threaten his resolve to ignore her. He seemed more embarrassed than angry now. For the first time, she let herself hope River had been right when he said the boy would come around.
As soon as Rice left for the dance, Sarah became conscious of River’s gaze. He made her even more nervous than usual. She ate hurriedly so she could take her plate to the back of the wagon and move farther away from River.
She and Eli had begun to clean the dishes when River brought his plate to them and leaned a shoulder against the wagon. He tipped his head toward the small band that had begun to play. “You coming, Sarah?”
She looked at him in surprise and shook her head, then had trouble looking away. His freshly shaved jaw seemed to invite her touch. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and she wondered if he read her thoughts.
Eli answered for her. “I can do this without ya. Get on out there and have yer fun.”
“No, thank you,” she said, quickly returning her eyes to her work.
River wasn’t dissuaded. “I know you like to dance, and we’ve got so few dancers.”
Sarah was aware of Eli standing beside her. She wished River had made his offer in private, then remembered what had happened the last time they were alone. There was no better way to discourage him than with the truth. Looking him in the eye, she said, “I’m not wanted there.”
“I remember a time when that wouldn’t have mattered,” he countered.
“Six years in prison has a subduing effect,” she said.
Eli grunted, whether in disgust or appreciation it was impossible to tell. He continued his work as if he weren’t standing in the middle of a personal conversation. Sarah saw River cast the old man an annoyed glance and had to smile.
The smile faded as his gaze fell on her again. She tried to return it unflinchingly but was relieved when he finally shrugged and turned toward the dancers. “When you change your mind, come on over.” In a moment he was dancing with one of the von Schiller girls while Rice danced with the other.
Turning back to her work, she found Eli watching her. “Get yerself over there, and show ‘em they ain’t got ya cowed.”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want to spoil their fun.”
Eli grunted. “Some fun! Pickin’ on one scrawny gal. Go make Rice dance with ya!”
“No,” Sarah said firmly.
A broad grin split the old man’s face. “I knew it,” he stated before returning to his work.
Sarah eyed him curiously, but he didn’t seem inclined to tell her what he knew. Deciding to leave the rest of the dishes for him, she took her sewing to the fire.
Eli wouldn’t let her work in peace. “Ya waitin’ for someone else? That’ll make ‘em both jealous, River and Rice. Serve ‘em right, too.”
Sarah moved closer to the firelight. Eli continued to mumble over the dishes. After several minutes of relative quiet with the music and laughter in the background, Eli moved to the fire. He sat where he could watch her and the dancers. She didn’t look up but wasn’t surprised when he spoke.
“Ortman,” he said. “That’s who ya oughta dance with.” He laughed in anticipation. “About makes his sister come apart at the seams!”
Sarah sneaked a peek at the gleeful old man and tried not to smile. It was just the thing she would have enjoyed a long time ago. And River was right, she wouldn’t have cared what the others thought. Now she wanted to call as little attention to herself as possible.
When she didn’t respond to Eli’s suggestion, his humor returned to normal, and he sat grumbling for several minutes. Suddenly he spoke to her again. “How come you let people think you robbed somebody?”
Sarah let her sewing drop to her lap. “What makes you think I didn’t?”
Eli shrugged. “You got more fight than you let on, too.”
Sarah shook her head. “Not anymore.”
Eli grunted. He seemed to watch her with some anticipation. She imagined telling him the whole story. It would be a relief to set the record straight with someone, but she wasn’t sure Eli would bel
ieve her. Somehow, the thought of dredging up a past she was trying to forget brought a lump to her throat.
Eli was still waiting, and she finally spoke. “I don’t think they know about the money. Prison is enough, and I can’t deny that.” She picked up her sewing, hoping Eli would see it as a sign the conversation was over.
He swore under his breath. “Ya just gonna let ‘em win!” He stomped away, leaving Sarah alone at the fire.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Sarah looked up from the dough she was kneading to see Amy holding up her doll for Sarah’s inspection. “See what happened to Lizabeth’s old dress?”
The stitching had come out of the tattered sleeve seam, leaving the tiny piece of fabric dangling. Sarah had to smile at the child’s solemn look. “That’s easy to fix,” she assured her. “If you want to leave the dress, I’ll mend it tonight.” She wiped her hands on her apron and reached for her sewing basket. “You can put it in here,” she said.
“But if I take her dress off, she’ll be naked.”
“What about the dress I made for her?” Sarah asked, kneeling to the child’s level.
“Mama threw it away.”
Sarah gave an involuntary gasp, and the little girl began to whimper. “I...I’m sorry.”
Sarah pulled her into her arms. “Don’t be sorry. It’s all right.” Suddenly the little body was pulled from her arms, and Amy cried out in alarm.
Sarah rose to her feet to find Martha in front of her. The frightened child clung to her mother’s leg and sobbed softly as Martha patted her back. “I—I’m sorry,” Martha stammered. “It startled me, seeing Amy...I mean.” Her eyes seemed to skip around the camp looking at everything except Sarah. “She needs to learn to stay closer to the wagon.” The mother turned away, dragging the child with her.
“But, Mama,” Amy protested.
“What have I told you about coming here?” Martha scolded.
The last words weren’t intended for Sarah’s ears, but Martha’s behavior had made her feelings plain, anyway. As Sarah watched the mother and child arrive at their own fire, a short distance away, she became aware of an audience. River and Rice stood together across the fire. She didn’t wait for their reactions but turned to her bread, pretending she had never been interrupted. She fought the impulse to see if they were still there. She didn’t really want to know if they felt pity or pleasure at her embarrassment. Most of all, she didn’t want them to know how she felt. She didn’t look up until Eli berated her for kneading the bread too long.
Cassandra Austin Page 11