Cassandra Austin

by Trusting Sarah

  “I think you have.”

  “This?” Bull touched a cheek and shrugged at the blood that came away on his fingers. “She don’t want me thinkin’ she’s easy, that’s all. Ain’t that right, missy?”

  River’s booted foot connected with Bull’s chest. The big man hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.

  River swung from the saddle and walked the pinto to where Sarah and Amy were huddled. He pulled Sarah to her feet and helped her onto the pinto’s back. He lifted the whimpering Amy up in front of her and handed Sarah the reins. “Take the girl back to her mama,” he said softly.

  Sarah nodded and turned the horse, afraid to look at Bull. Her spurless shoes didn’t interest the pinto, but River’s slap on his rump started him toward the ford. The women were scrambling up the bank, and Sarah could see Martha running toward them. Sarah waved, hoping to reassure the mother, as the child’s soft crying turned to shrieks.

  River turned back to Bull. He was gasping and cursing as he tried to roll to his feet. River pushed him back to the ground. “Let’s get this straight this time. You will not bother the lady unless you want to find yourself left behind again. Do you understand?”

  River glared at Bull for a full minute before he finally nodded. “Good,” River said. He walked to Bull’s horse and gathered the reins. “You don’t mind if I borrow your horse, do you? I’ve got work to do, and I think you could use the walk to cool down.”

  He caught up with Sarah in time to see Martha Williams hurrying toward the others with the crying child at her side. Sarah sat stone still for a moment, watching them go, before she turned toward him. Her face was composed, but she couldn’t hide the tears forming in her eyes.

  He brought Gaines’s horse close beside the pinto and touched her cheek. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  Sarah nodded. “Where is he?”

  “He’ll be along.” River studied the line of wagons and was satisfied that Eli had things under control. Gaines’s oxen, led by Kirby and Nathan, had nearly reached the shore. River turned back to Sarah. “Do you want to join them?” He indicated the cluster of women and children.

  Sarah shook her head.

  “Rice’s girlfriends are over there.”

  Sarah gave River a pleading look. Martha had been very upset when she had retrieved her daughter, and Sarah was sure she saw her as the cause of the little girl’s fright. The other women would have heard all about it by the time she and River got there. She didn’t want to wait with them. Yet she hated to ask River to let her stay with him; he had had enough trouble already.

  River felt himself sink into deep brown eyes. For a moment, he wondered just what he would be willing to do to make those eyes smile at him again. He took a deep breath and came to a decision. “Bull will be catching up with us soon. Let’s leave his horse with his nephew.” He urged the horse into a walk and the pinto came obediently alongside.

  Herman and Nathan led the oxen from the water. Nathan had been watching what he could see of his uncle’s antics as he crossed the river. Now he caught Herman’s attention, and they turned toward River and Sarah, leading the oxen out of the way of the approaching wagons.

  River dismounted. “Hold your uncle’s horse for him.”

  Nathan nodded. The ghost of a smile was in his eyes as he took the reins.

  River turned to Sarah and indicated for her to scoot forward. He swung up behind her and took the reins from her hands. Without another word he turned the horse away.

  Behind them Herman Kirby asked, “How did he come to have Bull’s horse?”

  “You want to ask him?” Nathan responded.

  Sarah leaned back against River’s strong chest and enjoyed his arms around her. She felt his breath against her temple just before he whispered, “If I wasn’t afraid of wearing out my horse, I’d take you all the way to the coast like this.”

  She smiled but didn’t answer. Eli in the lead wagon was only a few yards away.

  * * *

  Sarah grinned at Rice. “At least the scenery isn’t monotonous anymore.”

  The day before, they had passed through strange sand formations known as O’Fallon’s Bluffs before crossing the South Platte. Today they had traveled over a rugged, high prairie on a twisting trail with ravines on either side. The ravines had been littered with cedar trees and wrecked wagons. Now she and Rice looked down at nearly five hundred feet of steep grade that would take them into Ash Hollow.

  Rice grinned back. “We’ll set the brakes to keep the wagons from rolling over the teams. Everybody’s supposed to have wheel shoes to keep from wearing down the iron tires. They’ll lock the wheels in place in case the brakes fail. If everybody does what they’re supposed to, it won’t be too bad.”

  Sarah watched Rice head back for the wagon. Because there was some danger in the descent, River had ordered the women and children to walk down the hill ahead of the wagons and start for the spring two miles away. Each wagon would come down alone, allowing plenty of time in between for earlier wagons to get out of the way.

  Since she rode in the second wagon, Sarah was getting a head start on the rest of the women. She couldn’t help but wish River would come and let her ride with him. She had to laugh at herself. This wasn’t dangerous as the river had been, and she didn’t even mind the walk. She was just looking for an excuse to wrap her arms around River again.

  She was a little uncomfortable about starting off so far ahead of the others, but surely Gaines wouldn’t try anything again so soon. Besides, River had ordered the men to stay and help with all the wagons, even Gaines, who didn’t have a wagon of his own.

  She hadn’t gotten halfway down the slope when she heard someone running and sliding behind her. Her first impulse was to walk faster without even looking back. She could hear the person gaining on her. Rice or River would have called her name, she was sure. She wanted to hurry, but she had to see who followed her.

  She turned her head and regretted it immediately. She was moving too fast, and her foot slipped. As she felt herself start to slide, a hand caught her arm, pulling her up and giving her a chance at a sure footing again.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Sarah looked into Nathan’s intense stare. She righted herself as quickly as possible and pulled away. “I’m all right now,” she mumbled, starting down the slope again.

  Nathan walked beside her, keeping a respectful distance between them. After a moment he spoke, “If you don’t want me to walk with you, I’ll go away. I don’t want your River deciding to kick me down this hill.”

  Sarah frowned at him. It had been an attempt at a joke but even the boy wasn’t laughing. His eyes held a mixture of question and hope. Sarah guessed he was looking for company but making it easy for her to refuse if she wanted to.

  Under her scrutiny, his eyes dropped and he shrugged. “It’s a wide hill. I’ll walk someplace else, but I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about the other day. Uncle told me to get that kid away, and I usually do like he says. He said you’d be happy to be alone with him.”

  Sarah looked incredulous, and he gave her a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I know. I shoulda guessed. Not many women are happy to be alone with Uncle.”

  Sarah turned her attention to the hillside, and Nathan walked silently beside her for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I seen him bothering you yesterday. That River fella made him pure mad.”

  Sarah stopped in her tracks, and Nathan almost stumbled. “River didn’t do anything to your uncle that he didn’t deserve.”

  Nathan held up a hand to quiet her and glanced over his shoulder. “I ain’t disagreeing. I’m warning.” He eyed her again with that strange intensity she had noticed before. After a moment he turned and began walking again.

  She caught up with him quickly. “Why bother?”

  Nathan laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I’m just stupid, I guess.”

  They went on silently for a time. When Sarah lost her footing again, Nathan�
��s hand shot out to catch her, but withdrew as soon as she regained her balance. Sarah knew she should be grateful he was making the descent with her, but he was a Gaines, and she wanted nothing to do with his uncle. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy.

  In the valley below, they could see a little cabin, and even at this distance, Sarah could tell it was deserted. It was the abandoned trappers’ cabin Rice had told her about, where emigrants left letters they hoped would be taken to the nearest mail station by someone traveling in the other direction. The cabin looked so lonely Sarah shivered.

  They had almost reached the bottom of the hill when Nathan broke the silence. “You gonna wait here for the wagons or go on to the spring?”

  Sarah wanted to ask which he planned to do so she could say the opposite. She was ashamed of herself, but the boy, or her mixed feelings about him, made her uncomfortable. Looking in the direction they had come, she could see the first of the women and children starting down the slope. “Why aren’t you helping the men with the wagons?” she asked.

  Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I guess today I’m a child.” At her puzzled frown he dropped his eyes to his toes. “River caught Uncle takin’ a switch to me and sent me on ahead.”

  Sarah didn’t know what to say. She hated to think of River angering Gaines any more than he had already, but she wouldn’t have wanted him to let Nathan be beaten, either.

  After a moment he said, “Let’s head for the spring.” He glanced toward the travelers making their way down the hill, their voices already audible in the clear air. He reached out a hand as if to turn her but didn’t quite touch her.

  Sarah moved forward, and he fell in beside her again. “Uncle knows you spent time in prison.”

  Sarah kept walking. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Nathan. She had known Bull would find out sooner or later, and it didn’t matter to her what he or his party thought, but something in the boy’s tone made her uneasy. She had a feeling he had more to say.

  Nathan’s voice was soft again. “He heard this morning. Said in that case you had no business being uppity.”

  From the corner of her eye Sarah could see him glancing over his shoulder again and knew he was worried about someone seeing them together. In spite of his earlier comment, she was sure it wasn’t River he was afraid of.

  “Miss Tanton.” Sarah turned at the urgency in Nathan’s voice. “Bull can be awful mean.”

  Sarah looked away, not wanting him to see how frightened he was making her. Suddenly he announced, “You go on. I better wait at that old cabin.” Before she could respond he turned and hurried away.

  Sarah walked on, preoccupied with the things he had said. He was such a strange boy, but he had risked his uncle’s anger to warn her. She wondered what he had done earlier to prompt Bull to take a switch to him, or if the man needed any prompting. There was a chance that River’s interference would just make it harder on the boy.

  At camp that night, Rice related the descent in exciting detail. Ernest Ortman had watched the first two wagons slide down the hill on their brake shoes and had come up with his own plan. He had insisted on unhitching and lowering both his and the doctor’s wagons with ropes braced by the oxen at the top of the hill. He had borrowed all the ropes he could get his hands on and, with Prudence’s encouragement, had started his brother’s wagon down.

  “It wasn’t too bad an idea,” River interjected with a grin.

  Sarah could tell by the looks they were exchanging that something had gone wrong. All the wagons had come into camp in one piece so she knew it hadn’t been too big a disaster.

  Rice tried to look solemn. “He ain’t too good at tying knots, I guess. I ain’t never seen a wagon go so fast and not tip over. I thought it’d make it to the spring here before it stopped. Bet it’s got a loose joint or two.”

  Sarah tried to match the boy’s look. “Too bad Prudence didn’t ride. I overheard her complaining about how hard it was to walk down that hill.”

  River got up to pour another cup of coffee. “Oh, she had wanted to ride. I don’t think I could have stopped her, either, but Doc put his foot down, for once.”

  River watched Sarah as she pictured the scene. When she laughed, it was soft and quiet, as if she hoped no one would hear. He had a sudden desire to hear the joyful laugh he remembered. What would it take? All it used to take was a spin in his arms or a new game of chance. A surprise of any kind used to delight her.

  His thoughts were turning in a rather dangerous direction. Still, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. After a moment, she gathered the dishes and took them to the tailboard.

  Rice joined her, his expression serious. “Mr. von Schiller stayed to help, but he don’t look like he’s feeling good. His jaw’s so swollen he hardly looks like himself.”

  Eli spoke from across the fire. “If the old fool won’t talk to the doctor, there ain’t much else ya can do.”

  River saw Rice look from the old man to Sarah. “Gretchen says her parents don’t like American doctors. They had a little boy that died, and they blame the doctor. But Gretchen’s awful worried.”

  “Maybe you could talk to the doctor and take his advice to Gretchen without her father knowing where it came from,” Sarah suggested.

  Eli grunted. “Ain’t that like a woman to want to run everybody’s lives?”

  River frowned at Eli. Sarah and Rice ignored them both. She gave the boy an encouraging smile, and he left to find Dr. Carroll.

  River was rather impressed with Sarah’s advice to the boy. Only half-aware of his own change of attitude, he wanted to take the sting out of Eli’s words. “Well, I think it’s a good idea. Whether it does any good or not, Rice can feel like he’s tried.” He came to stand beside Sarah. “Besides,” he said softly, “he’ll have an excuse to call on Gretchen.”

  Sarah looked into the sparkling blue eyes and color rose to her cheeks. He had shaved again, even though it wasn’t Saturday, and she had the distinct impression it had been entirely for her benefit. For a moment she forgot what she had been doing.

  Eli’s grunt brought her back to earth. “Will ya two get outta here? I don’t wanna watch ya makin’ calf eyes at each other all night.”

  Sarah’s color deepened, and River laughed. “What a thoughtful suggestion, Eli. As a matter of fact, it is a nice night for a stroll. Don’t you think so, Sarah? How about walking out with me?” He offered her his arm with an exaggerated air of chivalry.

  Sarah fought back a giggle. “Why, thank you, sir, but I’m not sure it would be safe. Didn’t the Sioux burn down a trading post near here a few years back?”

  River’s arm swept around her waist and pulled her against him. “I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. There were other caravans in the valley now, and Indians weren’t likely to attack so large a group. He didn’t need to tell her that, however.

  “But, sir,” Sarah gasped, feeling her heart beat faster from the contact, “I’m not sure it would be proper.”

  River’s eyebrows shot up. “Fair lady,” he whispered, “I can assure you it won’t be.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened, but before she could speak, he propelled her away from the campfire. Eli’s chuckle could be heard behind them.

  Chapter Twelve

  River walked Sarah toward a grove of ash trees and into their shadows. He pushed his hat to the back of his head and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him immediately, meeting his kiss with a hunger of her own. The response stunned as well as delighted him. Even after her teasing he had expected some resistance.

  As her arms tightened around his neck, he realized he wasn’t going to walk her back to the wagon, at least not anytime soon. He was strongly tempted to take her to the place he had chosen to spend the night. It was closer to where the livestock grazed than to the wagons and situated on a small rise. The blanket on the grass would be so much softer than the hard crates in the wagon.

  He lifted his head and found himself a
lmost breathless. “Damn, Sarah!” he whispered.

  From his tone, Sarah might have worried that he was scolding her, that he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him. But she was pressed against his body tightly enough to know better. She rubbed her cheek against the soft buckskin jacket and sighed.

  “God, Sarah!” River wrenched her away from him. “If you want to see that wagon again before daylight you can’t do this to me.”

  Sarah tried to move back into his arms, but he held her firmly. “What wagon?” she whispered, running her fingertips along the fringed sleeve of his jacket.

  River regretted pulling her so far into the dark grove. He couldn’t see her face to know if she understood what he was telling her. As he tried to decide, his hold loosened, and she slipped her arms around his waist, bringing her body against his again. In a moment her lips had found the opening at the throat of his shirt.

  He drew her firmly away, having made his decision. “Walk,” he choked out. After clearing his throat, he repeated, “Walk. I promised you a walk.”

  “I don’t want to walk,” Sarah protested, keeping one arm around his waist as he propelled her out of the grove.

  River chuckled. “Doesn’t that depend on where we’re going?”

  “Hmm.” Sarah leaned her head against his shoulder as she walked. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he whispered.

  “A surprise?” She giggled. “I used to love surprises.”

  River didn’t miss her use of the past tense. He wanted to ignore it. For tonight he wanted to imagine she hadn’t changed.

  Halfway there Sarah turned in his arms, making it impossible for him to walk. He didn’t have any inclination to scold her again. He lifted her face with his hand and kissed her warm lips, wanting to drink in her sweetness again before going any farther. God, it was starting to seem like an enormous journey to get her to his bedroll.

  “Sarah?” he murmured against her lips.

  She moaned softly in answer.

  “Sarah, at this rate we’ll never get there.” He drew away from her and started forward again, momentarily afraid he had lost his direction.