by Merry Farmer
She circled around the back of the cart and reached for their food supplies. By the time she had the bread and cheese laid out, Jarvis returned with a canteen of water that he’d taken from his horse’s saddlebags and filled. That wasn’t all he had, though. In his other hand, he carried a small bouquet of wildflowers. He held it out to Alice with a smile.
“I thought I’d bring you a sampling of the flora,” he told her.
A thousand butterflies took flight from her stomach to her heart all at once. Her throat squeezed tight at the kindness of the gesture, and at the implications. At least she could blame the blush that stained her cheeks on the heat.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as unable to hide her smile as she was to meet his eyes as she took the flowers. She held them to her nose to breathe in their fragrance… and to hide her face.
To the side, Franklin sniffed. “Wildflowers,” he said as though he could have presented her with an entire hothouse full of roses, if she’d only given him the chance.
Jarvis’s only reaction to the comment was a momentary flattening of his expression. “They’re the second prettiest thing on the plains,” he said.
“I’m ready for my lunch now,” Franklin declared in a loud, overly cheerful voice. He marched between Jarvis and Alice, forcing them to step wide of each other, and made for the small picnic Alice had set up.
It was for the best. Alice spared one last look for Jarvis, then took her flowers to the tuft of grass at the top of an incline where she’d set up lunch. Jarvis followed her without comment, and in no time, the three of them were enjoying their simple lunch in the midday shade. As she ate, Alice kept staring at the flowers, which she’d placed in the middle of their picnic.
After they’d eaten, Franklin got up to find an obliging tree in a modest enough location to relieve himself. It was exactly the private moment with Jarvis that Alice needed.
“Jarvis,” she began in a tremulous voice, then cleared her throat.
Jarvis was busy hitching Blossom back to the cart, but he glanced up with a smile as Alice grew near. She held her tiny bouquet in front of her. Jarvis nodded to it and said, “Do you like them?”
How one question could squeeze so much dread into her stomach, Alice didn’t know.
“Of course, I like them,” she said. “What woman wouldn’t?”
His smile faded when she didn’t return it. “But?” he said.
Alice took a deep breath. “But I shouldn’t accept them.” She held the bundle out to him.
He didn’t take them. “They’re a gift.”
She bit her lip, reluctantly pulling the flowers close to her stomach. “That’s why I can’t take them.”
She hesitated. Why was it so hard to do the right thing?
But no, it had to be done.
“Jarvis, the kiss we shared yesterday—”
“Was wonderful,” he finished for her when she hesitated.
More heat flooded to her cheeks. It was. She would be lying to deny it.
A rustling from the bushes several yards away where Franklin had gone filled her with urgency. She had to put an end to this, and she had to do it soon.
“I’m flattered, really I am,” she began again in a rush of words. “But I’m in mourning. I’ve been through so much in this last year. My life has changed in so many ways. This journey, this land… it’s all so new and unfamiliar. I’m not ready to rush into anything more, not as fast as all this.” She sucked in a breath at the end of her speech, then let it out when she was sure she’d said everything she needed to. “I hope you understand.”
Jarvis frowned. It was exactly the reaction he should have had. So why did it make her wilt with disappointment on the inside?
“I see.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, brushing his hand back across his hair. A few strands had come loose from the tie at the nape of his neck.
She waited for him to go on. And waited.
“I’m not ready for… this,” she restated.
“Mmm hmm.”
That didn’t sound good at all. In fact, it sounded like he wouldn’t accept a thing she’d said.
A burst of anger cut through her uncertainty. And why shouldn’t he accept what she’d said? Her feelings were her own, and if she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready. He would do well to respect that.
“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” she said, crossing her arms and accidentally crushing his flowers in the process.
Inexplicably, his smile returned. “We’ll see,” he said and went back to hitching Blossom.
Alice stood where she was, staring at him. We’ll see? She didn’t like the sound of that.
At the same time, it sent prickles of excitement down her spine.
Not ready. Jarvis chewed over those words, not liking the taste. Alice may have said she was not ready, but her body pressed against his, her mouth entwined with his, her eyes when she looked at him said otherwise. He wasn’t the sort of man to push a woman into a relationship she didn’t want, but in this case, he was certain that she did want it. As much as he did.
“There. That’s taken care of,” Franklin announced with his smug grin as he rejoined them. “Let’s get going. I know of a tidy little grove a few hours from Father’s ranch where we can camp for the night.”
He clearly didn’t notice the tension that had sprung up between Jarvis and Alice.
“She’s ready to go,” Jarvis said, straightening and patting Blossom’s back.
He didn’t need to say more. Franklin was already helping Alice up to the cart’s seat, so all he had to do was fetch his horse, Thunder, from the stream and mount up. As soon as Alice was settled, Franklin rushed to mount his gelding. With a nod to Jarvis, they headed off across the stream.
At least they tried to head across the stream. Even though the water wasn’t more than eight inches deep and four feet wide at the point Jarvis had found for them to cross, the second Alice’s wagon hit a rock in the far bank, there was a loud crack. Alice gasped as the wagon tilted hard to the side.
Panic wrenched Jarvis’s gut as the cart cracked again and tipped farther. Alice grabbed the cart’s seat just as the front left-hand wheel fell apart. Blossom whinnied as the harness pulled her sideways.
“Stay right where you are. Stay still,” Jarvis shouted to Alice.
He leapt off his horse and charged back to the stream. As soon as he reached the crumbling cart, he snatched Alice off of the seat and lifted her to the ground and safety. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He could feel the heave of her chest against his as she panted with fear. She may have been afraid, but the moment Jarvis had her in his arms, he knew everything would be all right.
“I’ve got you,” he said as gently as he could, easing her to her feet. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Fine,” she repeated with a tight laugh. “That’s not as reassuring as it should be.”
Even though her laugh was forced, now that she was safe, Jarvis returned it with a genuine chuckle of his own. Alice’s tension began to drain, and her laughter loosened. She pressed a hand to her chest, catching her breath.
That wasn’t the end of it, though. Jarvis let her go and marched back to the cart. Blossom was still alarmed about the tipping cart behind her. He worked as fast as he could to free her from the harness. As soon as he undid the last buckle, she leapt forward, putting distance between herself and the cart. The cart’s wheel cracked one last time and shattered. The whole thing broke apart at the seams.
“That doesn’t look good,” Franklin grumbled, still atop his horse.
“No, it doesn’t,” Jarvis agreed. He reached across the cart to lift Alice’s bag and their food supplies out and set them on the ground. “Not good at all.”
He tried half-heartedly to tug the ruined cart out of the stream, but his feeble effort only broke the cart further. There was no way they would be able to use it now.
“What am I going to do?” Alice fretted. The way she chewed her lip a
nd wrung her hands in her skirt made him want to sweep her into his arms to comfort her. “We’ve come too far for me to walk back.”
“You can’t go back,” Franklin agreed in alarm. “We can’t delay for another hour. Father needs us.”
“But without the cart,” Alice began, then let out a sigh.
“You… you could ride with me?” Franklin offered.
There was no way Jarvis was going to let that happen.
“We’ve still got three horses,” he said. “You’ll just have to ride.”
Alice looked at him as though he’d suggested she fly. “I can’t ride.”
“Didn’t you ever ride back in New York?” Jarvis asked. He started across the grass to fetch Blossom from where she’d come to a stop a few yards away, and brought her over to where his horse, Thunder, stood.
“Not really.” Alice followed him. “I was given a few lessons when I was much younger, but I used a sidesaddle then. We may have three horses, but we only have two saddles, and both are for men.”
She had a point. Still, Jarvis was no more interested in leaving her behind than he was in scrubbing the mission entirely and taking her back to the fort. He raked a hand through his hair, tugging the leather tie out of his ponytail, then making and securing a new one. It gave him time to think.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” he said at last. “I’m not great at riding bareback, but I’ve done it a time or two. I’ll ride Blossom and Alice can ride Thunder.”
“Thunder?” Alice swallowed.
Jarvis broke into a smile. “He’s not well named. Well, maybe he was once, but he’s a good old boy now. He won’t cause you any trouble.”
“Maybe not,” Alice argued, “but that still doesn’t change the fact that I can’t ride. Especially not astride.”
Franklin glanced back and forth between the two of them, at a loss.
Jarvis shrugged. “You’ll just have to learn.”
“Learn?”
“Yep. Staring now.”
He let go of Blossom’s halter and brought Thunder around to Alice.
“What?” She balked. “No. No, I couldn’t even think of riding a horse, especially with a saddle like that. I… I’m in a skirt, for pity’s sake. I certainly couldn’t ride astride.”
“You could borrow a pair of my trousers?” Franklin’s suggestion sounded more like a question. His head was tilted to the side, and he watched Alice as though imagining what she would look like astride a horse.
Swift, hot jealousy, pure and simple, socked Jarvis in the gut. He hated the way Franklin looked at Alice, hated the way he was clearly indulging in some adolescent fantasy of her, hated the fact that he had a good idea.
“Your britches are probably small enough to fit her,” he grumbled. It was a low blow, but at that moment, Jarvis didn’t care.
“That’s very kind of you, Franklin, but I couldn’t,” Alice insisted.
“You can’t stay here and you can’t go back,” Jarvis argued. “I don’t see that we have much choice.” She was about to protest, but he added, “Didn’t your father tell you to try new things? Wasn’t that what he said last night?”
Alice’s lips pressed tight. Her cheeks flared pink. It was enough to tell Jarvis there’d been more to that particular conversation than he’d overheard.
“All right,” she said at last, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “I’ll try something new. Give me the trousers.”
Franklin dismounted and skipped around to his saddlebag, pulling a pair of grey trousers out for Alice. He handed them to her with more of a grin than he should have worn. Lucky for Jarvis, for Franklin too, Alice took them without meeting Franklin’s eyes. She motioned for the men to turn around while she slipped the trousers on under her skirts.
“All right,” she said at last, signaling she was changed. “Now what do I do?”
“You say hello to Thunder,” Jarvis answered her.
He took her around to Thunder’s head, pointing out the names of all of the parts of his bridle and saddle. Alice nodded as he ran through everything. Thunder, for his part, looked a little worried to have an inexperienced rider on his back. Once Jarvis had run through the names of everything she would need to know and adjusted the stirrups so that she would be able to reach them with her short legs, he gave Alice a hand up.
“Oh, oh,” she gasped as he lifted her.
“Swing your leg around his rump and get settled in the saddle,” Jarvis instructed her.
“I think I could show you a better way to do that,” Franklin attempted to butt in.
Jarvis wasn’t having it. Fortunately, he didn’t have to, as Alice somehow managed to follow his instruction. She yelped when her skirt rode up to her thighs, but the trousers covered anything that would have been left hanging out. Which was a crying shame.
“I’m going to put your feet in the stirrups this time so that you can feel where they are,” he said as he tucked one of her boots where it needed to go. As he walked around to her other side, he said, “Try to get a feel for where they are so that you can slide in naturally next time.”
“Next time?” Alice echoed in alarm. “There’s going to be a next time?”
“Well, it does take two days to ride out to this place.” Jarvis teased her with a wink.
“Oh,” she sighed.
“Thunder here’s a well-trained horse, so he’ll respond to commands from the reins and from your feet. Tap him here to make him go forward.” He took hold of Alice’s booted foot and touched it to the appropriate spot on Thunder’s middle. “Here to make him back up if you need it.” He moved her foot. “Pull this way to make him turn right and this way to make him turn left.” He moved her hands to correspond to each direction. “And pull back to get him to stop.”
“That’s it?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Well, that’s not exactly it, but it’s enough to get started.”
She sent him a dubious look. Jarvis replied with a smile.
“That’s it. Let’s mount up and head out again.”
Franklin walked away to remount his horse. As soon as Jarvis stepped over to fetch Blossom—already racking his memory for what he remembered about riding bareback—Alice squeaked, “You’re just going to walk away and leave me to figure this out on my own?”
Jarvis drew Blossom over to a reasonable-sized boulder and muscled himself to mount, grabbing a handful of her mane.
“You’re not figuring it out on your own. You’ve got two competent riders here to make sure everything goes as it should.”
“Yes you do,” Franklin added. “Any help you need, just let me know. Although I still think it would be better if you rode with me.”
Alice’s gaping mouth snapped shut. “Maybe it is a good idea for me to learn to ride,” she mumbled.
Jarvis chuckled and walked Blossom up to Thunder’s side. “Now tap him gently to get him to go forward, like I showed you.”
Alice took a deep breath, held it, and tapped. Thunder started forward at a lazy lope. For the first time, Jarvis was glad the militia kept such pitiful horses in their corral. When Thunder didn’t bolt or rear or throw Alice, she let out her breath.
“I… I guess this isn’t so bad,” she admitted. She gripped the reins like they were cords holding her to life and stared hard at Thunder’s head, but her shoulders relaxed a hair.
“You’ll get the hang of it in no time,” Jarvis promised her. “I bet you’re a natural horsewoman. And once you learn to walk, I’m willing to bet you’ll fly.”
Chapter Seven
When she had first started her journey west along the Oregon Trail, Alice was convinced she would never be able to sleep outside. Now, months later, as she spread out the thin bedroll she’d brought from her family’s supplies and lay down, she wondered how she had ever been able to sleep cooped up in her city bedroom. The starry sky above her was a comfort, a new old friend. Her muscles may have been sore, and her legs ached from where they had rubbed against Thunder’s
sides all day, but her soul was at peace.
“If all goes smoothly, we should get there just after midday tomorrow,” Franklin said from the other side of the campfire.
“Mmm hmm,” Jarvis replied. It sounded as though he had already lain down and wasn’t particularly interested in conversation.
“I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again, that’s for sure,” Franklin went on.
No one answered him, and after a short pause, there was some shuffling as though he was putting himself to bed.
Jarvis and Franklin didn’t exactly get along. The twist of that thought popped Alice awake, just as she’d been drifting off. They didn’t overtly dislike each other, but they hadn’t struck up a friendship, the way she’d seen other men do. Harry had been one of those men who other men got along well with and who women found themselves sweet on in a hurry. He wasn’t as rugged and manly as Jarvis, though. No, Harry had been the second fiddle, the charming man who didn’t threaten anyone. He’d been a dear and a darling.
Her throat squeezed tight and she blinked up at the canopy of stars. How many nights had Harry slept outside before a bullet ended his life? Had he had any peace at all in the midst of war? Everyone had told him not to go, told him that he didn’t have the constitution for hard warfare. In the end, everyone had been right. But she still loved him. She’d love him for the rest of her life.
A quiet sob escaped from her before she could stop it, and she sniffed.
“Alice? You all right?” Jarvis whispered into the night.
“I’m fine,” she replied by rote. What else was she supposed to say? That the stars reminded her of the first boy she’d loved? The boy she’d married? The boy she’d lost?
She cleared her throat and rolled to her side. “Oh Harry,” she breathed out. “Why did you leave me?”
Because I had to. The answer echoed in her heart. Because it was my duty to fight for what was right.
Maybe. Maybe it was. And maybe it was her duty to move on, to make a new life in this new land. Or at least to help other people, Franklin’s father and aunt for a start. She would help them to settle their dispute and move forward. Wasn’t that what the trail was all about? Moving forward?