Even though people had left her alone, she always felt as though someone was watching her, and when she peered around she’d usually spot Big Bart staring. It was a bit disconcerting, and she tried to follow Savanna’s advice and ignore it but that wasn’t so easy. Had Clancy traded her to that man? It wasn’t too hard to imagine he had, but she would never go along with it. It was a shame how low whiskey had brought Clancy down. It had made him crazy enough to drink tainted water.
She shook her head. There was no sense going over and over Clancy’s death. She’d just finished organizing the wagon when Mike yelled for them to start and off they went. No one was causing trouble while they were on the trail. No one had idle hands. Well, except for the gossipy women.
A strong gust of wind alerted her to the sky. She stared in horror at the angry dark bluish gray colored clouds. The wind kicked up something fierce. It was going to rain and she hadn’t thought to put Clancy’s duster near the front within her reach. She’d be drenched for sure. Many of the walkers jumped up into their wagons for shelter.
The skies opened, and an amazing amount of rain burst from the clouds. A gully washer for sure. Gusts of wind slanted the deluge sideways, and it was hard to see far ahead through the downpour. She could make out the wagon ahead of her, though, and as long as she could see it she’d be fine. She tried to remember where she’d seen Clancy’s coat, and if she was correct, she just might be able to grab it and still drive.
With a firm grip on the lines she turned to one side and reached around. No coat. She turned the other way and almost drove off the trail. Sitting back down, she felt lucky to still be following the wagon ahead of her. So intent on keeping in line, she was startled when Mike rode up next to her. She was even more startled when he jumped off Arrow and onto her wagon.
“I’ll drive for a bit. Go in and get something dry on.”
The wind almost carried his words away but she was able to hear him. Nodding, she gave him the lines. Then she held onto him as she climbed into the wagon. A shiver wracked her body. The temperature was plummeting. Quickly, she changed into warmer, dry clothes. She found Clancy’s coat and his hat and put them on then carefully climbed back out.
“I’m fine now! Thank you!” she yelled above the wind.
Mike nodded. “We’ll stop in a bit. I want us a ways from the river in case it floods. I saw you almost turn off back there. Are you alright?”
“Yes, I was trying to find this coat. I realized my folly just in time. Go! Help another damsel in distress. I’m fine, really.”
He gazed at her long and hard before he handed the lines back to her. He whistled and Arrow was back beside the wagon. Mike reached out and grabbed the horn of his saddle and the next thing she knew he was riding away. He’d warmed her inside and out. He’d been distant after the night Clancy died. She knew he wasn’t interested in her, but she’d thought they were friends. Now, he routinely sent one of his brothers or Smitty to check on her. When he’d talked to her, she had felt a bit less alone in the world. When he’d drawn back, she felt more alone than ever. Her shoulders sagged as dejection threatened to overwhelm her. She wished they could just sit and talk but he didn’t seem to want that.
Lightning snapped across the sky, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She couldn’t see the river, but that didn’t mean much. It was hard to see anything. Thunder boomed, and it was getting harder and harder to hold the oxen on course. Her arms were on fire, but she willed herself to keep going. She wondered how Natalie was doing; she could only hope she and Lily were dry. Just as her arms lost all feeling except the burn of protesting muscles, the wagon in front of her turned, and she followed it, taking her place in the circle. Jed came by and alerted everyone to the fact that the livestock needed to be brought inside the circle to keep them from running off.
Susan wished she could just crawl into the back of the wagon but she needed to take care of the oxen. Out into the downpour she went, keeping her head bent to avoid getting blinded by the rain. Puddles had already begun to form, and the wind whipped fiercer than ever.
“Come stay in our wagon!” Clarke yelled.
She shook her head. “I’ll be just fine. Thank you, though,” she shouted.
He gave her a quick nod and was soon out of sight. Quickly, she let the oxen loose and then climbed into the wagon. After taking Clancy’s coat off she wrapped herself in a blanket. The wind rocked the wagon back and forth.
What if it toppled over? Drawing her knees up to her chest, she laid her head on them. The thunder, lightning, and wind were all conspiring to fray her nerves. Maybe she should have taken Clarke up on his offer. A huge banging against the back end of her wagon made her jump. Puzzled, she crawled to the back and peered out.
Big Bart had one hand on her wagon and the other holding his hat on.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, more annoyed than afraid.
“Just checking on my wagon.” He gave her an eerie grin.
“It’s my wagon, and I want you to stay away from it and me.” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.
“You only think it belongs to you. Clancy lost it in a card game. I won both the wagon and you.” He reached inside.
She screamed and grabbed her buck knife. She’d never attacked another human but she didn’t have a choice. She lifted the knife and stabbed Bart’s hand with all her strength. His resulting bellow gave her pause, but she lifted the knife again waiting for Bart’s hand to reappear. When it didn’t she scanned the area behind her wagon, but it was too hard to see through the rain.
Her heart beat painfully against her ribs, and a lump formed in her throat. Could it be true? Did Clancy bet the wagon and her? She was more afraid the wagon might not truly belong to her than she was of Bart winning her. Bart might have a case for taking her wagon away, but he had no right to her.
“Oh Clancy, how could you have seemed so compassionate and caring when you were really a scoundrel of the worst sort?” Her words were carried away by the wind. Frightened, she scrambled and grabbed the musket. Her father had taught her how to use one. She put out the oil lamp so she didn’t cast any shadows and then sat in the middle of the wagon. Big Bart wouldn’t stay gone for long.
As tempted as she was to run to the Mott wagon, she couldn’t bring trouble down on them. So she sat in the dark and waited. Every noise startled her, and it was a loud night. The rain kept falling steadily. Her back was sore, and sleeping would have been nice, but she refused to take the risk.
Her intuition paid off. A few hours later, Bart’s hand appeared and she stabbed him again. How stupid could he be? She’d thought for sure he’d try to come in the front of the wagon. She smiled as he yelped in pain. Lifting the musket, she aimed for the back and waited once again. It wasn’t a heavy gun, but it seemed heavy after holding it up for so long.
The sound of ripping canvas caught her attention and she turned around. He was cutting through it with his big knife. She didn’t have time to think she pushed the barrel out the hole he’d made and shot. Next she took her knife and was ready for him to come at her, but Bart started screaming in pain. She inched to the hole and looked out. Bart was holding the side of his head.
“She shot my ear off!” he yelled to someone. She couldn’t see who.
Susan sat back in the middle of her wagon as she reloaded the musket. Her body shook, and fear clutched her heart. The constant thunder made it impossible to hear what was going on. A flash of lightening illuminated a man outside her wagon, and she picked up the musket and aimed.
“Susan! Are you alright?”
She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “Yes. Yes!” she called out to Mike.
He popped his head in the wagon and took his time looking her over as though he was looking for injuries. “I’m coming in, put the rifle down.”
She glanced from him to the musket, and her eyes widened. “I shot him.” The words echoed inside her head, and she gripped the gun tighter.
She couldn’t seem to let it go. It was a relief when Mike crawled in and took it from her. “I stabbed him too. Oh, my.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, but you did what was necessary to defend yourself. Bart was mumbling something about owning both your wagon and you when Smitty took him to get bandaged up.” He sat behind her and pulled her between his legs until her back was against his chest.
When he wrapped his strong arms around her she felt so safe and valued as she never had in her life. She leaned back into him and drew from his strength. They were silent for a bit and she enjoyed being in his arms.
“Is there anything in this wagon Bart would want?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. He told me that Clancy lost both the wagon and me in a card game.” Her voice cracked.
“I don’t condone gambling in my party. Don’t worry about any debts of Clancy’s from gambling. They won’t count, and I’ll make sure Bart knows that. We should make it to Fort Laramie in a few days. It’s going to be a hard go with all the mud, but it’s nothing we haven’t done before. I have a feeling we’ll have repairs to make on wagons in the morning. Many canvases have holes in them. We’ll inspect the wagons before we head out. There are a few wagons that aren’t being taken care of. The wheels aren’t being greased properly. Best to take care of it before we try to get through the mud.
“You’d best check mine. I didn’t know about greasing the wheels.”
“Yours and Natalie’s have been taken care of on a regular basis.”
“I never saw—”
“Eli did it. He hates to be thanked all the time, so he does plenty people don’t know about. It’s just his way.”
“You’re so good with them. I see why they look up to you.”
He tightened his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “We’ve had a few rough years, but they are both young men to be proud of. Someday we’ll settle on our ranch. I’m not sure when. Guiding people west suits us for now.”
Would he ever truly settle down? Somehow, she couldn’t picture it. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but deep down, a tiny voice whispered that it did. She had feelings for him. Feelings she tried to deny, but it was no use. They were there, and she had to try to squash them. There was most likely a damsel in distress on every train.
“Try to get some sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.” He hesitated before he pulled his arms away.”
Disappointment flowed through her. “Of course. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” She pulled away from him.
Mike smiled. “It looked as though you had everything handled.” He laughed.
“It’s not funny! I could have killed him.”
“You’d have been within your rights. He tried to attack you. He’ll be put on notice that he only has one more chance before we ban him.”
The blood drained from her face. “Ban him? I’d best watch my back.”
Mike nodded. “You need to be vigilant, but me and the boys will keep an eye on you.”
Susan nodded. “Thank you.”
Mike climbed out of the wagon then looked back at her. “Get some sleep.” He was gone before she could respond.
The storm left as quickly as it came. Mike drank his coffee as he watched the sun come up. He sighed; the ground was full of puddles and deep mud. It would be hard going today, but they’d get through it. A positive attitude gave the rest of the party hope. Word of Bart’s visit to Susan’s wagon had tongues wagging early. Some of the women went from fire to fire to talk and then after they ate they formed a small grouping. He didn’t need to hear them to know they somehow blamed Susan. He stood and made his way through the mud to Susan’s wagon. She hadn’t made a fire but she sat outside of her wagon, holding her head high.
“Did you eat?”
She nodded. “The Motts made enough for me and the Lewises. Clarke sure has a way with fire making. I swear he could make a fire in any conditions. They even invited me to place my coffee pot on their fire. Would you like some?”
The hopeful expression on her face twisted his gut. “I wish I could, but people are talking enough as it is. Has anyone said anything to you?”
A look of sadness enveloped her. “No, they always think they know the truth of every matter. I try to be a nice person, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what I ever did to get on their bad side.”
“Susan you are the sweetest, nicest woman I know. You’ll probably never know why and there probably isn’t a valid reason. They just like to gossip, and I’m sorry as can be that they picked you to gossip about.” He glanced over his shoulder at the women and nodded at them. “I know it’s hurtful, but you didn’t bring this upon yourself. It’s going to be rough going today with all the mud. Remember, don’t stop unless you have to. Go around a stopped wagon if possible.”
She smiled at him and his heart warmed. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. If anything comes up—and I mean anything—just let one of us know. I’ll check on you later.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
He tipped his hat to her and then walked on to the next wagon. Her blue eyes drew him in and he never tired of gazing at her. Her sweetness and generosity of heart shined through in everything she did. He wished… He wasn’t a man for wishes.
He approached the group there was no help for it. “Ladies. It’ll be hard walking today but we need the wagons as light as possible.”
“Of course, Mike,” Connie Ranger said as she smiled at him. “What are we going to do about the Susan problem?”
“Excuse me?” He frowned. “Susan is not nor has she ever been a problem.”
“Tell that to Bart,” Trudy Sugarton quipped.
“Bart tried to get into her wagon last night, and she defended herself. I would think you’d have more concern for the women on this wagon train. Especially a woman alone.” Most of the women looked away but not Connie or Trudy. “How would you have felt if someone tried to come into your wagon? He even tried to slice through the canvas to get to her. No one should be subjected to such a thing. Now I suggest you ladies go back to your wagons and get ready to leave.” He couldn’t help the anger in his voice. Why did people act this way? He continued on from wagon to wagon, making sure all was ready. Jed and Eli had also made the rounds making sure all the wagon wheels were in good shape. It was time.
“Captain Todd!” A woman raced toward him. He recognized her as Mrs. Wicker. She was always meticulously dressed but today she was sodden and her hair looked to be a tangled mess.
“Ms. Wicker, what’s wrong?”
“It’s my girl Livie. She went to get water and fell in. The current took her away! Please help us!”
“Jed, Eli ride down river and see if you can spot her! I’ll start where she went in and look.” All three quickly mounted up and raced along the river bank. Mike stopped at the place where Livie had gone in. He scanned the area and his heart skipped a beat when he saw blood on the hanging tree branch. It did not bode well for the girl.
His head whipped around in the direction of Jed’s yell. Mike turned Arrow and raced down the river bank. Jed held Livie in his arms and by the way she lay, Mike knew she was dead. The poor girl couldn’t have been any older than ten years old.
All three brothers rode back to camp with Livie cradled on Jed’s lap. Mr. Wick stepped forward and took his child into his arms. Unshed tears clouded his eyes. “Thank you for finding my gal. We’ll take time to bury her before we go?”
“Of course we will.” Mike slide off Arrow and gathered a few men to dig a grave. It was heart wrenching to watch as Livie Wick was buried. They had no choice, they had to move on. There were many tears but unfortunately death was a big part of going west.
“Wagons ho!” he yelled halfheartedly a while later. The men pushed each wagon, one by one, out of the ruts they were in, and they all slowly got going. He hadn’t bothered to stop at Bart’s wagon. He’d been fighting the urge to hit the man. Although his head was ban
daged, Bart drove his own wagon. How he did so with cut hands and his ear nearly blown off, he didn’t know.
They were able to travel further than he’d thought. If their luck held out they’d make it to Fort Laramie end of day tomorrow.
“Mike, hold up!” Eli yelled as he rode his horse alongside Mike’s. “Bart really has it stuck in his craw the Willis wagon is his. I asked if he had a bill of sale, since gambling wasn’t allowed. I even asked if anyone else was a witness to the transaction, but no on both accounts. I told him that the matter was now closed.”
Mike nodded. “You did well. I’m proud of you. You’ll be leading your own party one day.” Mike smiled but the thought of Eli on his own wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate. They’d always been a team, him, Eli, and Jed, and of course Smitty. His brothers were becoming grown men. Pride and sadness filled him. Pride for how well they could handle themselves and sadness that someday they’d want families of their own. Heck, he was turning into an old mother hen.
That night Mike wandered over to Bart’s wagon to have a chat. Bart threw quite the glare at him. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up. I can find someone to drive your wagon if necessary.”
Bart spit on the ground. “I ain’t asking for any favors from you.”
“I know. I was just concerned. I’m confused by a few things. You say that you won both the wagon and Susan? How can that be when gambling is forbidden along the trail?”
“It ain’t your business. That wagon is mine, and so is that hellcat. It was all fair and square. No gambling took place. He wanted whiskey, but had no money. He traded me the wagon and his wife for it. I was to take possession of both at the end of the trail. I’m opening a saloon and I’ll need a few girls to tend to the men. I’ll keep my distance for now, but once we’re in Oregon you’ll have no say. None at all.” He gave Mike a snide grin.
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