Cassandra Austin

by Trusting Sarah

  River let his eyes rove slowly over her, grinning when her face began to color. “I don’t know, Eli. I’ll have to study on it some.”

  Sarah came quickly to her feet and busied herself gathering a cup and bowl for River. She dipped up his stew and tried to hand it to him without looking at him. Eli’s chuckle told her he was enjoying her embarrassment. No doubt River was, too. He took the bowl she offered with a murmured thanks and sat down, but she had a feeling he still watched her.

  “Sounds like they got themselves quite an orkeestra,” Eli commented as the first discordant strains could be heard. “What is that awful squawk? Lordy! If any Sioux are listenin’ they’ll think we’re on the warpath fer sure.”

  River shrugged. “Maybe somebody’s singing.”

  Eli grunted. “Bein’ tortured by those selfsame Indians, more likely.”

  “Could it be bagpipes?” Sarah offered.

  The preliminary noise died for a moment, before beginning again, this time with all the instruments in full swing. Eli listened for a moment, shaking his head. “This I gotta see.”

  As he disappeared around the curve of the wagon circle, River set his bowl on the ground. “Let’s dance,” he said, coming to his feet.

  “I told you last week, they don’t want me there.”

  “More than half of those folks don’t know anything about you. Let old Prudence stick her nose in the air if she wants to. Come dance. With me. Please.”

  She shook her head. River was already standing over her, pulling her to her feet. “Daniel, no.”

  River grinned down at her. “Then dance with me here.” He led her a little farther from the fire and pulled her into his arms. Her feeble attempts to draw away were met with the barest tightening of his arm around her. “This is about as close to that music as I want to get, anyway,” he said, swinging her around.

  She laughed, raising her head to look up into his face, and quickly turned her attention to the fringe on his jacket. This dance, as he called it, could turn into an embrace if she didn’t keep her head.

  “Do you remember what you promised me?” he asked.

  “Promised?”

  “Two nights ago.”

  His voice was just above a whisper. She could feel his breath stirring the hair at her temple and knew he had leaned closer. This was crazy. She should be running, not following as he led her around in slow, seductive circles. She barely managed to say, “I don’t remember promising anything.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” He stopped dancing and, with his hands on her shoulders, held her away from him, compelling her face to turn up to his. “I asked you to promise not to hate me.”

  She swallowed, remembering vaguely. “I don’t hate you.”

  He smiled gently. “And I asked you to promise not to hate yourself.”

  Sarah struggled to escape, but his hands were too strong. “Don’t run away from me,” he pleaded. “I don’t want you thinking what happened between us was wicked.”

  “Of course you don’t,” she protested, angry at him for trying to manipulate her and herself for being so susceptible.

  “Sarah.” His voice was coaxing. “You’re too hard on yourself nowadays. You used to be—”

  Her temper flared. “Don’t tell me what I used to be. I used to be in prison, and you were the first to say I belonged there.”

  River drew away, but his grip on her shoulders didn’t loosen. He stared into the angry face, reading hurt and shame, wishing he could take it away. Finally, he whispered, “Maybe I was wrong.”

  Sarah’s face registered shock at his words. After a moment, her eyes narrowed, and River knew she wasn’t sure she had heard the truth. Anything more he wanted to say would have to wait for another time.

  “Dance with me, Sarah,” he murmured. He wanted to coax her back into his arms, but she still eyed him suspiciously. “That’s all I want from you tonight.” He gave her a little shake, breaking the rigidity in her body. “I just want you to dance with me.”

  His voice was seductive, and she knew she shouldn’t listen. But she did so love to dance. In spite of everything, she wanted very much to be in his arms. He sensed when her resolve weakened and pulled her close again.

  The music had changed to a slow, mournful tune, or at least that’s how the lovers heard it. Their bodies swayed against each other, more in time with the crickets and bullfrogs than with the band, which seemed to drift farther and farther away.

  Near the wagon, just outside the light of the fire, Eli watched and congratulated himself.

  * * *

  Sarah let the night breeze play gently across her face. She had barely slept. Instead, she had sat at the back of the wagon and stared into the darkness, trying to sort out her feelings for River. An evening of dancing in his arms had been at least as confusing as the night of love a few days before.

  She reminded herself he hadn’t stood by her six years ago, and she would be a fool to put too much trust in him now. When the train reached its destination, he would abandon her again. She had no place in his plans, whatever they were.

  Well, her plans didn’t have to include him, either. She would earn her living sewing and mending for people, taking in laundry. She might even go to one of the mining towns, where she had heard a woman could earn good money washing miners’ clothes if she could stand the primitive conditions. She wouldn’t need River.

  It had all made sense when she left Albany. Now it seemed like a very lonely life. In her heart, she knew she had never stopped loving Daniel, and though he had changed some, she couldn’t help but love him now as River.

  She had shied away from her feelings the way she shied from everything else. She didn’t want to hide any longer. Last night, when they had danced in the firelight, she had realized how much she wanted to be near him, even if it would last only a few months.

  She was grateful when the sky began to turn gray and she could give up all pretense of trying to sleep. She had decided last evening what she would do and had spent the night trying to convince herself it was right. Whatever River was willing to offer, and for however long, she would accept. It could be the last time in her life she would love anyone.

  As she came to her feet and folded her blanket, she couldn’t help thinking of her decision as a fall into sin. It brought a rueful smile to her lips. In truth, she had fallen long ago; she wouldn’t blame herself now for trying to enjoy what life was left for her. Only in theory could she think of her time with River as wrong; when she was in his arms it seemed more right than anything else in the world.

  It was still dark inside the wagon, and she found her trunk by feel, trading the blanket for the better of her two dresses. She slipped into what she had begun to think of as her Sunday dress and wondered what Reverend Fleenor would think of the description. It was her Sunday dress because she wore it on Sundays while she washed the other one.

  She moved to the back and put on her shoes. She didn’t need any light to know how worn they were, and she didn’t have a second pair. There was little chance these would hold together all the way to California. With a sigh, she wondered what the price of shoes would be at Fort Laramie, if there were any available, and wished she had thought to buy extra before she left the states.

  Sarah knew the moment Eli was awake; he always muttered under his breath as he rolled from his blankets. She stepped out of the wagon, and when she saw which direction he went, she went the opposite. Since trees had become scarce on their journey, Sarah had seen other women go out in small groups, standing in a circle of spread skirts to provide privacy for one another. She hadn’t asked to join them. Instead, she had sought the cover of darkness each morning and evening to relieve herself. Since she and Eli were normally the first ones up, she simply headed away from him.

  The first ones up except for River, she thought as she walked away from the train. Sometimes he slept near the banked fire until Eli woke him with a booted toe. Other times he would come into camp carrying his bedrol
l, making her curious where he had slept.

  When she was far enough away from the wagon she knew no one could see her, she stopped and listened a moment. This procedure always made her nervous; she imagined the complete humiliation of being discovered. As soon as possible, she made her way back to the wagon.

  Eli was there to meet her. “We oughta tell the reverend to start prayin’ for bushes,” he said in a low tone.

  Sarah hoped the darkness covered the color rising to her cheeks. She found it mortifying when Eli spoke so openly about such things. He had even provided her with an empty lard can to use as a chamber pot inside the wagon if all other possibilities failed. She was embarrassed carrying it away to empty it, but appreciated his surprising thoughtfulness.

  She made no reply to his remark but added buffalo chips to the fire. The fuel caught and a small circle around her was bathed in pale light.

  At the edge of that circle River raised himself on one elbow. He spoke softly, his eyes on the woman by the fire. “What are you two doing up so early? It’s Sunday.”

  Sarah’s eyes met his and held. He could hear Eli at the back of the lead wagon. “Well, we got work to do, even if ya don’t. There’s bakin’ and washin’ and...”

  River found Sarah’s shy smile completely captivating. The fire warmed her cheeks and made the fine hairs that escaped the tight knot rise with its heat.

  “If that t’other train’s agonna pull out or...”

  River didn’t listen to Eli’s tirade until Sarah suddenly glanced in the old man’s direction. He was annoyed at Eli for distracting her even before he realized what had caught her attention. Eli had mentioned Bull Gaines.

  He managed to recall what he had only half heard. Eli had suggested that Bull Gaines could leave with the other train. Why had Sarah reacted the way she had? His eyes narrowed as he watched her. She didn’t look at him again but rose, moving to the tailboard of the lead wagon to busy herself with breakfast preparations.

  River shoved his hat on his head and came to a sitting position just as Rice crawled out from under the wagon, clutching his boots. “Did Eli say Gaines was leavin’ with that train?” the boy asked.

  “I was hopin’ it, not sayin’ it,” the old man corrected. “Weren’t nobody rightly listenin’ to me.”

  River grinned at Rice, who was trying to step into his boots without falling down. He pulled his own boots on and came to his feet. “Well, you can’t blame us, Eli,” he said. “Your prattle gets to be like a cricket’s chirp, so constant we don’t hear it anymore. Till it gets damn annoying.”

  Eli grunted.

  Sarah bit her lip, afraid she would make his temper worse if she laughed. She looked at Rice, expecting him to be in the same predicament, and was surprised to find him watching her seriously.

  “Miss Sarah, Gaines was askin’ after you last night,” Rice said, coming closer.

  Sarah shuddered, remembering Gaines’s crude comments and his rough fingers on her cheek. She turned back to the tailboard to set out the dishes, hearing them clatter in her shaking hands.

  Eli had sliced bacon and spread the pieces in his long-handled skillet. He carried it to the fire, glaring at Rice. “He can ask all he wants as long as he stays away from my wagons.”

  River looked from Eli’s scowling face to Sarah’s rigid back and wondered what he had missed besides the division of the train. He was annoyed with Gaines for whatever had caused this reaction but annoyed at Rice and Eli, as well. This wasn’t the first time his friends’ conversation had included Sarah and left him out.

  The boy continued. “He said he was watchin’ for you, and then he danced with Gretchen.”

  “Gretchen?” Eli and River spoke at once.

  “Von Schiller,” Sarah informed them.

  River and Eli exchanged a look, but Rice spoke to Sarah. “I didn’t want him to dance with her, but she said not to try to fight him. I didn’t know what to do. He didn’t dance with her very long, and afterward she told me he couldn’t understand what she said so she pretended not to understand him, either.”

  Sarah felt for the boy, wanting to protect a young lady but powerless against a man the size of Gaines. She walked to him and laid a hand on his arm. “You both did the right thing. I don’t think he’ll bother her again.”

  Rice’s eyes were downcast. “He called her a dumb immigrant.”

  Sarah suppressed a smile. “That’s probably a good sign, Rice.” He looked into her eyes, saw the smile there and returned it with a slight nod.

  River watched the exchange with surprise and growing anger. Rice was his friend, but he took his problems to Sarah! When had she learned to comfort someone? She and Rice had obviously become very close friends. And when would one of them tell him what there was between Sarah and Bull Gaines? Feeling completely excluded, he took two water buckets from the side of the wagon and left the camp without a word.

  Rice followed River with two more buckets, and Sarah watched them go, wondering what River was thinking. She couldn’t understand how he could change from frankly appraising her across the fire to coolly ignoring her.

  “Ya got yer man jealous,” Eli said, and snickered.

  Sarah looked at the grinning, leathery face and answered as calmly as she could, “I don’t have a man, let alone a jealous one.”

  “Shows what ya don’t know.” He didn’t seem to care that she had turned her back and was busily doing nothing at the tailboard. “Ya done it twice. First by mentioning Gaines, then by smilin’ away at young Rice there.”

  Sarah whirled around. “I didn’t mention Gaines, you did!”

  Eli turned to study her, and she had a feeling he was reading more on her face than she wanted him to. She was relieved when he turned back to the skillet and stirred the bacon around with a long wooden spoon. After a moment he chuckled.

  “Oh, shut up,” she muttered, and he chuckled harder.

  * * *

  “If we’re in such a big hurry, why don’t we go with them?” Herman pointed at the neighboring circle, where the men were hitching teams and the women were packing away equipment.

  Bull glared at the man until he looked away. “I’ll decide what’s best,” he said. He squatted by the fire and poured himself another cup of coffee. “This train’ll do fine.” Herman sat near the fire, nodding in agreement. Nathan was washing the dishes from their breakfast.

  When Bull was sure he had their undivided attention he went on. “See, boys, I had one regret when we left their company a ways back. Leavin’ behind that little Tanton gal. You know who I mean?” At their nods, he sat down on the one camp stool he had found room to pack and stretched his legs in front of him. “Yes, that little gal could make travel right pleasant, don’t you think?”

  “I like those German girls, myself,” said Nathan.

  “Dumb as mud.” Bull sneered at Nathan, who shrugged and resumed his work. “But that Sarah, I think I’ll pay a call on her this afternoon.” He grinned at Herman’s nod of approval. “Say, Nothin’, ain’t that boy at Eli’s camp about your age?”

  Nathan eyed his uncle a moment before answering. “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, maybe you two could think up somethin’ to do for a while. Go look for snakes or somethin’.” He laughed at the boy’s scowl. “And Herman here’s been wantin’ to talk to that old man, Eli. Ain’t ya, Herman?” He laughed even harder at Herman’s confused nod.

  * * *

  “Where did Eli go?”

  Rice joined Sarah at the back of the lead wagon. He and River had made the rounds to see that all the travelers had checked their wagons and made the necessary repairs. River had sent him back to see if Eli needed any help.

  Sarah was rolling out a crust to go with the dried apples Eli had inexplicably decided should be baked into a pie. She winked at Rice when he stole a piece of the soaking fruit. “He went off with that simple fellow who travels with Gaines. He said something about his oxen, I don’t know. He wasn’t making much sense, but he seemed worried
so Eli went to check.”

  Rice reached for another apple slice, but Sarah caught his hand. “Save some for the rest of us,” she teased.

  “Aw, you sound just like Eli.”

  Sarah gave him a pained look. She started to respond but saw Rice’s attention had turned elsewhere. A young man was standing near their fire.

  “Hi,” he said hesitantly.

  Sarah took in the dirty clothes and shaggy hair. She searched her mind for the boy’s name, but all she remembered was his uncle. “Aren’t you the Gaines boy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Nathan’s my name.”

  Sarah knew she was letting her dislike of Bull influence her reaction to him. She watched his gaze go from her to his toes for a moment before settling on Rice. “You wanna go do somethin’?”

  Rice eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”

  Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. Sarah could see the uncertainty and shyness in his eyes and a touch of defiance, as well.

  He glanced over his shoulder before he asked, “You got a horse? Maybe I could borrow Uncle’s, and we could ride up to those hills.”

  Rice shook his head. “It’s not a good idea to go riding away from the train.”

  Nathan shrugged again. Sarah could see he was trying to pretend he didn’t care if Rice sent him away. His feet, however, seemed rooted to the spot.

  Sarah looked from one young man to the other. “Maybe the von Schiller girls could help you think of something.”

  She had expected to see Rice’s face brighten, but he remained serious. “Which one do you like?” he asked. It sounded like a dare.

  Nathan laughed. “I don’t even know ‘em apart.”

  Sarah felt Rice relax. “I’ll introduce you,” he said.

  As the two boys walked away, Sarah saw Nathan turn to glance at her. There was something strange about the boy, something that made him seem older than he looked. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She shrugged, mimicking the boy, and returned to her piecrust, which had gotten dry and crumbly while she had been distracted.