He let go of her arm for an instant and caught it again. “Wait,” he whispered.
She turned, a question in her eyes. He dropped the rifle and bedroll and with one sweep of his arm brought her up against him. While that arm held her fast, his other hand buried itself in her hair and his lips sought and found hers. He tasted her willing mouth greedily and ended the kiss as abruptly as he had started it.
While she struggled to catch her breath, he smiled down at her, whispering, “Go in as if nothing has happened.”
Sarah caught herself before she laughed. “Oh, you make that sound so easy,” she whispered back.
His grin broadened. “I want to make sure it isn’t.”
She turned around so she wouldn’t have to look at his charming grin. Taking a deep breath, she started toward the wagon, trying to think how she usually walked, how she usually acted. I’m just going back to the wagon, she told herself. Back to the wagon I left only a moment ago.
It wasn’t easy. She ought to kick River for that last kiss. Now she wanted to run and hide in the wagon, to be alone long enough to think about this delightful change in River...and in herself.
When she finally arrived at the wagon, she took one last look toward the place she had left River. He was nowhere in sight, but she knew he might be hidden in the shadows. She resisted the temptation to wave before she climbed into the wagon.
River watched her go, praying with each step that their secret wouldn’t be discovered. For himself he wouldn’t care, but he had a feeling Sarah would find discovery humiliating, perhaps to the point of refusing to spend another night with him. He chided himself for his less than noble outlook.
She turned back at the wagon, and his guilt increased. He should move slower with her, let her learn to trust him, give her time to believe he loved her. He should wait until she had told him her story and listened to his plans. Then he should ask her to marry him. And until they came that far, he shouldn’t touch her.
She disappeared into the wagon, and he stared for a long moment at the spot where she had been. God, he felt lonely already. With a sigh, he retrieved his bedroll and rifle. He would make a round of the camp then turn up at Eli’s fire. He took one step forward and paused to look back at the wagon. “You’re a temptation, Sarah,” he whispered again.
Sarah heard Eli muttering moments after she climbed into the wagon. She lit the lantern and went to her trunk to find her brush and more pins to fix her hair. Eli was returning to the fire when she stepped out of the lead wagon. He didn’t give her a glance but walked directly to the supply wagon.
Sarah went to the fire to add more wood and jumped when she heard Eli swear. “Damn, worthless, fool boy.”
Sarah’s eyes darted to the blankets where Rice was just waking up. “What’s wrong?” she asked warily.
“Fool’s run off. Ungrateful brat.”
Rice struggled to his feet. “He’s gone?”
“Yes, he’s gone. Gone back to his uncle, I reckon.”
“Who are you talking about?” Sarah asked, but she had a feeling she knew.
Rice affirmed her suspicions. “Nathan Gaines.”
Sarah was almost afraid to ask. “What was he doing here, hiding?”
“We fed the little whelp,” Eli said, still angry. “Patched him up. Even brought the doctor. What does he do?”
Sarah interrupted. “Brought the doctor?” She felt chilled. This was somehow her fault.
It was Rice who answered. “His uncle beat him, but he was all right.”
Eli was fuming. “I’ll bet he went back to his uncle. Ain’t that just like a dog? Ya kick him, and he’ll still come home.”
Sarah and Rice looked at Eli then at each other. Rice shrugged, and Sarah went back to tending the fire. Both were afraid to speak into the uneasy silence after Eli’s words.
Walking into camp a few minutes later, River sensed the tension. His first thought was for Sarah, and he went to her, whispering close to her ear, “What’s going on?”
She glanced at Eli. “I’m not sure but it has to do with Nathan Gaines.” Her whisper wasn’t quite soft enough.
“Don’t even talk about him,” Eli interrupted. “He ain’t got the sense God gave a possum.”
River’s questioning gaze went to Rice, whose only answer was a wide-eyed shrug. They went about their duties in preparation for departure, giving Eli as wide a berth as possible. By the time they were ready to go, Sarah was more than glad to climb onto the wagon seat beside Rice.
Once they were under way, River rode beside their wagon, and Rice related to both of them the events of the night before. He ended in a bewildered tone, “We were going to protect him from Bull. I don’t understand why he would go back.”
“Maybe he wasn’t sure he could trust us,” River suggested. “If Bull had to come get him, he would have been in trouble again. At least going back, he knew what to expect.”
Sarah could see Rice wasn’t convinced. “You were right to try to help him, though,” she said. “At least he knows there are people who will be kind to him.”
“But Eli’s so mad,” he protested. “If he comes to us for help again, Eli will turn him away.”
River laughed. “I don’t think so. Eli’ll cool down. He always does.” He smiled at Sarah. “Just be glad he isn’t mad at you.”
“Aw, that don’t bother me,” Rice said, missing the look his companions had exchanged. “I know he don’t mean nothin’.”
“See,” said River. “It’ll be the same with Nathan. I better make sure everyone’s coming along all right. The road’s nothing but sand, and if anyone can get bogged down in it, Ortman will.” He tipped his hat to Sarah and waved at Rice before turning the pinto away from their wagon.
Chapter Thirteen
River had been right about the road, and travel was slow. It seemed they had again left all trees behind except a few willows on little islands in the North Platte.
Sarah listened to Rice talk about the von Schiller girls, especially Gretchen. She had quite suddenly become his favorite. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but Gretchen was prettier, sweeter and much smarter than her younger sister. In fact, he was beginning to wish Frieda would get lost.
“She cried last night, and that’s why we had to stop looking for Nathan,” he said. “If we had found him while she was there I would have had two people to look after.”
Sarah would rather not have been reminded of Nathan and his troubles. “How’s Mr. von Schiller’s toothache?” she asked.
“It’s bad,” Rice answered. “I told Doc Carroll about it, and Doc said he oughta have the tooth pulled. That’s why I went to see him last night, you remember, to tell him what the doctor said. I just suggested it, but I didn’t mention the doctor. I think he’s going to try to pull it himself or maybe see if his wife can.
“I suppose that’s probably why Frieda cries so easy,” Rice went on. “She’s worried about her father. Anyhow, I wish she hadn’t come last night. She was the reason we went to the Gaines camp in the first place, so she could walk with Nathan and leave us alone.”
Nathan again, Sarah thought. She wanted to know if he was all right, but she wasn’t about to go to the Gaines camp to find out. She was tempted to ask Rice to go or at least ask around, but she didn’t want to put him in any danger. She knew part of her motive was guilt, but even if his beating had nothing to do with her, she hated to think of anyone at Bull Gaines’s mercy.
In the afternoon, they saw a great herd of buffalo, and toward evening, River took two of the men hunting and came into camp with their horses loaded with meat. They cooked what they could and jerked the rest, decorating the wagons again. Sarah was sure the clouds of sand would make the meat gritty, but Eli seemed unconcerned. Because of the extra work of cutting the meat for jerky, Sarah had little time to worry about Nathan. River spent the evening in camp, providing an additional distraction.
“By this time tomorrow, we should be able to see Chimney Rock,” he told her, looki
ng up from the rifle he was cleaning. “You can see it for more than thirty miles.”
Rice had told her about this strange rock formation that towered over the prairie. To him, it meant they were getting close to the mountains. She looked at Rice and smiled at the excitement on his face.
“We’re about a week from Fort Laramie, Miss Sarah. That right, River?” the boy asked.
River nodded, but whatever he was going to say was cut short by Eli’s voice. “Ya oughta give Sarie a ride out to that old rock when we get close, River. It’s off the road a piece but wouldn’t seem like no trip a’tall on horseback. That’s exactly what ya oughta do.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” River said, grinning at Sarah.
She turned to her work to hide the color she felt rising in her cheeks. She couldn’t fault River for anything he had said or even how he had said it, but the look in his eyes had made his thoughts all too plain.
It didn’t help that she was already remembering the last time she had cut up meat this way. She and River had worked together and, when they were done, had gone to wash their hands in the river. If he offered to go with her this time, things would be different. When he moved to kiss her, she wouldn’t pull away, and she wouldn’t say anything that would make him angry. Back then, she had still held some hope of explaining everything to him.
The following day they continued along the track that roughly followed the North Platte, even though part of the time they were several miles from the river. The road was sandy in places but better than the day before. The prairie was dotted more and more by yucca plants. It made Sarah think of a desert, and she mentioned this to Rice.
“Nah, this is a lot nicer than a desert,” he said. “I’ve seen some rattlesnakes around here, though.”
After these encouraging words, Sarah decided to ride most of the day. By evening she was glad to stretch her legs and offered to excuse Rice from his usual job of getting water. He eagerly agreed, and she set off with the buckets. After going a few yards, she wondered why she thought she wouldn’t have to worry about snakes now, if they had worried her all day. She was watching her path so intently she was startled to see a pair of boots planted almost in front of her.
Taking an involuntary step backward, she looked up into Nathan’s bruised face. “You shouldn’t come out here alone,” he said.
Sarah recovered quickly. “Were you in trouble for talking to me?” She went around him and began filling the buckets, not wanting him to be hurt again because of her.
“He’s planning something. Don’t wander around alone.”
She looked up to ask what he meant and discovered him walking swiftly away from her. He changed direction abruptly, and she realized anyone who saw him now would never guess they had been together a moment before. As she walked back to the wagon, she had a feeling Nathan still watched her. She didn’t turn to see. She was afraid the slightest glance in his direction would give him away.
Because she was preoccupied with Nathan and what he had said, she was well into the supper preparations before she realized something was wrong at the next wagon.
The Williams family had been next in line, and Sarah had seen the children playing near the wagon earlier. The team had been unhitched and, she assumed, watered and turned into the corral, but there was no supper fire burning. She saw no sign of either parent and realized the children’s play was more subdued than usual.
“Eli, what do you make of that?” she asked softly, indicating the neighboring camp with a nod.
As Eli came to stand beside her, Tom Williams climbed from the wagon. He walked past his children without speaking and started around the circle. The smaller boy hollered and tried to crawl after his father, but Amy grabbed him. He sat crying while Albert and Amy tried to comfort him.
Eli’s eyes narrowed. “Ya go hush the young’un. I’ll see what his pa’s up to.”
Sarah approached the children with some trepidation. Since they had been told to stay away from her, her presence might make matters worse. “Amy?” she asked softly. All three heads turned in her direction. Even Allen gave up his crying, watching her as his body shook with silent sobs.
“Amy, where’s your mama?”
The little girl stared at her before deciding to speak. “In the wagon.”
Sarah took the last remaining steps separating her from the children and knelt on the ground beside them. “Is she all right?”
Albert turned his attention to Amy, but Allen continued to stare at Sarah, shuddering occasionally. Sarah could tell Amy wasn’t sure she should answer. Finally the little girl stood, placing a hand on each of her brothers. “Papa’s gone for help. You’re bad. You’re not suppose’ to be here.”
With a sigh, Sarah nodded her understanding and rose to her feet. “I’ll be nearby if you need me, Amy.” The little girl didn’t answer, and Sarah went back to her own fire.
She couldn’t help but watch the children as she went about her work. It wasn’t long before Eli, Tom and Dr. Carroll were hurrying toward them. Tom and the doctor went into the wagon, and Eli joined Sarah.
He turned to look at the children before he spoke. “The missus is havin’ her baby, but it ain’t nearly time.”
The von Schiller girls had been right behind the doctor. They went to the children, and Sarah could hear the girls coaxing them to follow. “Food. Eat?” When they understood, each girl lifted a little boy to her hip, and Amy, after a glance at Sarah, followed them away.
Rice and River came to the fire, and Eli filled them in. As they started to eat their supper, Tom came out of his wagon and lit a fire, putting water on to boil. Eli went to talk to him, reporting back that there was nothing yet to tell.
Sarah was cleaning up the dishes when the von Schiller girls and their mother brought the children back. Mrs. von Schiller went into the wagon while the girls played with the children. Rice went to join them, and Sarah made a guess which girl was Gretchen.
There was an outburst of German from the wagon, and Gretchen went to see what had happened. After a moment she came back for Rice. Sarah could hear her agitated chatter as she pulled Rice by his arm toward the wagon. “My English dou know. Mama vill say...I vill say...dou vill say to doctor.”
They had no more than climbed into the wagon when Tom climbed out. Sarah heard Eli mumble something about a crowd and knew he was watching the other camp as intently as she.
Tom brought out blankets for the children but left it to Frieda to put them to bed. He sat by his fire, staring at the flames. River filled a cup with coffee and took it to him. He had to tap the man’s shoulder twice before he looked up. River left the cup in his hand and returned.
When her chores were done, Sarah sat beside River. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. There were low moans from the other wagon now. Sarah turned her face into River’s shoulder at the sorrowful sounds.
They watched the neighboring camp as their fire died. Sarah knew she should turn in, but she wanted to be up if there was anything she could do. She didn’t think she would sleep, anyway. She kept thinking of Martha’s dreamy expression when she had first told her about the baby. She prayed Tom had been wrong and both mother and child would be fine in the morning.
The children finally fell asleep with Frieda curled up beside them. Tom went to look into the back of the wagon but returned to his place by the fire without saying a word.
Sarah found River’s strong arm around her more comforting than any words he might have spoken. She closed her eyes and felt sleep steal over her.
The moon had risen when a scream awakened Sarah, a long, anguished “Nooo” that dissolved into heartbreaking sobs. She sat up, and River’s arm tightened around her.
After a few minutes, the four who had been at the woman’s side climbed out of the wagon. As she watched, the doctor went to speak softly to Tom, and Rice said goodbye to Gretchen and her mother.
It was Rice who brought them the news. “The baby’s dead,” he said softly.
> He was pale and shaken, and Sarah began to realize what the boy had been through. River brought a crate and nearly pushed Rice onto it. He sat silently for a moment.
“Gretchen was real good,” he said finally. “Me and her would help her mother talk to the doctor. I was awful scared. They talked about what they might do, but it didn’t seem like there was nothing that would save the baby.”
Sarah laid a hand on his arm. He looked into her eyes and whispered, “It was awful, Miss Sarah.”
Sarah knelt beside him, wanting to draw him into her arms but afraid to even offer. He took her hand and spoke again. “It’s wrapped in a blanket in the wagon. It was just so tiny.”
Sarah felt tears come to her eyes. She had never witnessed a birth, let alone the birth of a dead child. And Rice was only a boy.
In a moment, Rice turned to River and said in an even voice, “Doc says it would be best if we waited here a day.”
River nodded. He watched Rice carefully, amazed at what he saw. After a moment he smiled sadly. “You did good, son,” he said, giving Rice’s shoulder a squeeze. “We better all try to get some sleep.”
The next morning, Tom carried Martha out of the wagon and set her on a camp stool so she could attend her baby girl’s funeral. Frieda and Gretchen had taken charge of the other children. The rest of the train gathered around the tiny grave, and Reverend Fleenor took the opportunity to preach a sermon on God’s help in time of need. When it was over, Rice remained behind to fill in the grave, having declined all offers of help.
“The reverend knew we wouldn’t stop again tomorrow,” Eli grumbled. “He snuck a church service in on us today. Though he has mellowed, ain’t he.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sarah, walking with River. “Well, let’s get that bread baked. If he wants to pretend it’s Sunday, so can we.”
River gave Sarah a quick kiss on her temple and murmured a goodbye before he left her to make the rounds of the wagons. Sarah helped Eli with the bread, then went to the river to wash the clothes, much as she did on Sundays.
Cassandra Austin Page 19