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Bright Morning Star

Page 6

by J. R. Biery


  “Yes, we’ve worried about her and the lads all day. We almost stopped at noon to wait for them, but my husband argued she might come across to intercept our train and we would miss her and the boys. I’ve been angry at him, afraid he just didn’t want to waste the day and not make his blasted miles. Are you sure she’s all right?”

  “He made the right choice. Yes, she’ll be fine. I’m going to leave her in your good hands. I’ve got a lot of men to keep in line, so I can’t stay much longer. I’ll probably have to ride home in the dark.”

  Claire stood looking over the tail of the wagon at her friend. “Are you sure she’s all right?”

  Again Calum rode back and had to smile. They were all handsome women, even this tiny one. He knew a lot of men would faint at her blonde hair, blue eyes, and dainty features. But he preferred a woman of substance.

  “With you three ladies to see to her chores and this little lady to nurse her, I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He stared into blue eyes in a flawless face and understood why the boys had described Claire as pretty as a China doll. Too bad they had added that she had about as much sense. He untied the deer and turned Champ and let him rear. “She shot the deer before she got the bee sting collecting these.” He unlooped the knapsack full of blueberries and handed them to Claire.

  The girl had wasted no time in running to check on Bonnie. Maybe she was worthy of all the love Bonnie had for this friend and for the mail-order bride, Lynne McKinney.

  “Okay lads, your turn to shoot. Have you picked your target?”

  Mr. Wimberley rushed up and stood with his hand on the tailgate of the wagon. “Hey, I don’t hold with shooting.”

  Calum sat with an elbow on the pommel of his saddle and stared at the solemn face. He motioned away from the others and was relieved when Mr. Wimberley followed. Quietly, pitching his voice so only this man could hear, he told him all he had been thinking as he carried a helpless Bonnie back. No reason he should be the only one losing sleep worrying about her.

  “Then you should have stayed in Boston. As I told the lads, the Indians along this way won’t be a problem, at least ‘till you cross the Missouri. But you never know when vagabonds and robbers might attack a lone wagon train. With four helpless children, four beautiful white women, and only two men to defend them, you better start carrying your weapons and know how to use them.”

  He turned and saluted the twins as they raised their fingers in a smart salute to him. Father Wimberley nodded, and the boys ran after their new hero. By the time they had fired their rounds, the men had circled the wagons for the night early and quartered the deer. With the women busy cooking the meal, Calum wasn’t surprised to see the two men walk up carrying all their weapons.

  <><><>

  Claire stood over the pile of wet wood. She held her mother’s striker and flint and took a deep breath before trying again. The white spark landed on the wet bark and went out. She was so flustered and tired, but so were all the others. She looked at Henry and his mouth curved down in sympathy, but he raised his empty hands and shrugged. She watched where his hands still dripped pink before Mary Anne poured another ladle over his hands for him.

  Her Father set the deer haunch down on the bench beside her and patted his daughter’s shoulder. “You need dry kindling. Put a pile under your wet logs, then light it.” He looked to where the scattered gunfire was coming from.

  “Sorry, we promised, we’d be next.”

  “You and Henry are going to learn to shoot? She asked in surprise.

  He stared at his only child, smiled in spite of himself and bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll ask the Lieutenant, he may have some trick of the trade for starting a blaze with wet wood.”

  She went to the third wagon where her Father had stored all the tools and parts he hoped to sale. A man coughed behind her and Claire stepped down quickly, her hands full of a single dried corned shuck and a bit of straw. She stepped back despite herself.

  “Miss, sorry to startle you. Your Father said you could use a little help.”

  Claire blushed, the man was breathtaking in his bold blue and yellow uniform. There was something familiar about his blue, knowing eyes.

  He removed his hat and gave a small bow. “Calum Douglas, at your service.”

  Claire smiled, her spirits suddenly bright. He had said it just like a gentleman at a ball. She curtsied and extended her hand for him to help raise her up. “Claire Wimberley, thank you, sir. Do you know how I can start a fire with this wet stuff?”

  A minute later he knelt, used his knife to uncap a bullet and dumped it over the small dry kindling she had found. He pocketed the lead shot and took her flint and striker. In a poof the flame shot up, with a sizzle and pop the wood began to burn.

  “Is this what you’re cooking for supper?”

  Claire nodded, trying to not look as inept as she felt. Tom and Jim had followed him over and were watching in awe. Boys, run cut me a couple of forked trees, about this big around. He held out his finger.

  They held up their hands. Calum glowered fiercely. “Right, I guess knives would be too dangerous as well.”

  He turned and, using his knife, whacked through the top of a young tree, then he cut the spreading limbs off. In minutes he had the thin slices of the deer skewered over the fire. “After you finish cooking tonight’s supper, just put the other haunch up and leave it over the fire all night.”

  “Bonnie usually puts the beans over the fire for the next day.”

  “You can put both up.”

  He tipped his hat to her and the other two women who were now coming out of the woods. “Good-day, ladies, later.”

  Calum was glad he had been working with green recruits the last month. He needed every bit of his patience. Robert Wimberley was afraid of guns, a challenge in itself. Henry Lambton was just uninterested in them. Although reluctant, Calum was able to motivate them and train both to at least handle the guns safely, how to load and fire each one. He encouraged them to practice.

  The women were a different story. Elizabeth Wimberley didn’t hesitate. She was only interested in learning to fire the pistol, but when she sighted down the barrel, she fired as though she had already picked out her target. Bella only took the weapon at his insistence. She seemed horrified at the idea of ever firing it until he asked her what she would do if Indians attacked, and she was the only one left to protect her son.

  Instantly, she stiffened. He went through the instructions again and all three women paid close attention. Claire was last. He was not surprised when the little blonde came to practice with a lace collar added to her plain tan dress. She really was pretty, but he could have done without the fresh spray of perfume. Flirting, she pretended she couldn’t figure out how to hold the weapon. He willingly pulled her into his arms, supported her arm and held her tiny hand within his own. When she finally fired the gun, he was not surprised when she squealed at the noise and the kick of the shot. It was a relief when he finished and little Mary Anne showed up. She didn’t ask, just waited.

  He released the annoying blonde and took the little girl with her impish features and big eyes onto his knee. “Don’t you think there are enough people to shoot the guns, that you’ll be safe now?”

  “I can do it if Tom and Jim can, please,” she tilted her head, batting her lashes over those lovely gray eyes.

  Calum laughed. What was it about women? Were they all born knowing how to work their eyes and voice to get their way?

  When they walked back to eat, Calum left the others and walked over to the wagon where Bonnie slept. He was rewarded by the opportunity to see her sitting up, rumpled and still half asleep. Her dress was open a button and a damp cloth was on her neck over the sting.

  As she opened her eyes and saw him, her eyes changed from soft, nutmeg brown to a lighter shade with little sparks of yellow. Calum tried not to, but he hoped the lights were for him.

  All during the meal, he sat next to Bonnie, attentively cutting her meat, getting up to get her
coffee. Claire sat on the bench across from them, trying to catch the Lieutenant’s eye or draw him into conversation. Ignored, her father or mother would try to answer her questions when the silence stretched out. It was clear, the officer had eyes only for Bonnie.

  As soon as the meal was over, he escorted Bonnie back to her wagon. She watched him lift Bonnie up to sit on the tailgate. Although the wagon was between them and the couple, she could see his tall legs, the blue cloth decorated with bold yellow bands down the sides of each leg.

  She tried, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. As the couple talked, she watched Calum lean so his legs were at an angle, then move back straight. After the third time she saw him mount up and ride slowly off into the dark. It wasn’t her place, but she was surprised that her father didn’t ask him to stay until daylight.

  Her parents said Goodnight and retired next, urging the others to sleep well. Bella lifted her son to take him to bed and apologized to Claire for leaving her with the cleanup. Henry gave her the same annoying shrug, he had earlier. Peeved, Claire stood, ready for bed as usual, but tonight she was left with the job of clearing up. Fine, it was a good thing that no eligible man would notice her. She didn’t want to be a wife and have to do this every day.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Claire came out of her wagon last, groaning as she sat on the tailgate, still in her wrapper. Bonnie, had risen early, eager to get the fire stirred to life, coffee made and hoecakes fried. The deer meat hung over the ashes of the fire where it had smoked overnight. Claire inhaled the hot smells and groaned.

  Bonnie served her friend a stack of cakes drizzled with molasses.

  “Thank goodness you’re back with us. Yesterday was a nightmare.” Mother Wimberley stepped up and finished frying cakes and serving, scolding Bonnie to sit down and take it easy. The men were soon yoking oxen and saddling horses for the boys to take down to the stream for water.

  Claire came down from her wagon when the area was clear, stood in her gown and wrapper and whined. Bonnie was back, washing the dirty dishes and doing the cleanup as she was supposed to do. Claire watched while her mother walked over to fuss over Bonnie again.

  Mother turned and looked her way, “The men will be moving the wagons out in a few minutes, hurry darling, get dressed.”

  Claire shook her head, her untamed curls like a soft yellow cloud around her head. “No, I can’t do this today. My feet and legs are killing me,” she looked past her mother to where Bonnie hummed and worked.

  Whispering, she continued to complain, but leaned closer to her mother. “Why can’t we just take one day and rest? I’m not tough like some people, I wasn’t built for walking along like a cow day in and day out.”

  Bonnie’s eyes flashed, or Claire would have thought she hadn’t heard her. Instead of yelling at her, the tall woman finished the last plate and quickly turned to preparing the food for their lunch. Claire watched, already wanting to eat again, as Bonnie rolled pieces of cooked venison inside hoecakes. She stacked them all inside one metal plate and secured another overtop of it. She made a second package as Claire hobbled up to the cold fire pit.

  In all the years they had been friends, Bonnie had only seen the girl this worked up once before. It was when Tarn Michaels turned all of his attention onto Bonnie.

  “Can I see your big bite?” Claire demanded.

  Bonnie stared at her, wondered why Claire was complaining about her. She turned so the swollen, red, muddy spot on her neck was visible.

  “Oh. My goodness. Does it feel better, do you feel okay? The way everyone and your toy soldier were fussing over you, I expected it to be bigger.”

  Bonnie loaded the prepared food, stood the coffee pot in the corner and wedged everything in place with the bag of fruit. Finally, she turned and answered the angry girl.

  “He’s not my soldier, and he’s certainly not a toy. He escorted us back for our safety. Why, don’t you like Lieutenant Douglas?”

  Claire considered her next words carefully. She wanted to just blurt it out. ‘He made me feel invisible.’ Instead, she said, “He wouldn’t look at me, couldn’t see me. He was so wrapped up in paying attention to you that he never even spoke to me at dinner.”

  Bonnie laughed and reached out to point at Claire’s open robe and bring her finger up to thump the tiny chin and give it a tweak. “You dear, are a little too visible.”

  Claire heard the men, saw Bella holding Barney’s little hand as she walked him back from the bushes. Claire wondered if Bella had heard the two friends quarreling. No, it wasn’t a quarrel when one friend just kept smiling like a bear in honey while the other went on scolding and complaining.

  In horror, she saw Henry and the twins staring and grinning. ‘Getting an eyeful,’ as Bonnie would say. Embarrassed, Claire tried to run back to the wagons, but her legs and feet refused to cooperate. The most she could manage was an ungraceful waddle.

  <><><>

  Claire watched as Bonnie walked alongside the wagon and Mr. Wimberley and the twins led the first team out of the circle. Claire fumbled around inside getting dressed.

  “Don’t worry goose, no need to be jealous. I told him I’m married and not interested. Today you just take it easy. This dumb ox is back on duty,” Bonnie called.

  Dressed except for her shoes, Claire climbed out onto the bench to apologize to her friend, her best friend in the world save for Lynne. What had gotten into her? She hadn’t meant to be cruel, but she had been.

  Finally, she managed to get the shoe onto her sore foot, lowered that aching leg as she struggled with the other and began to explain. “Bonnie, dearest Bonnie, I’m sorry. Yesterday when I saw how hard your work is, I promised myself to thank you and hug your neck. You just do everything so easily, and you never complain.” She turned to look beside the wagon but her friend was gone.

  Ahead she saw Bonnie walking back to help the boys connect their oxen to the wagon. Mary Anne ran up to her and Bonnie caught the sweet girl in a hug.

  “I can drive today, if you need me,” Mary Anne said.

  Laughing, Bonnie swung the child up onto the wagon seat. “I certainly do.”

  Claire felt like crying. She had meant to say all those things, to do more for Bonnie. Instead, she had insulted and yelled at her.

  If it had changed her mood, Bonnie didn’t show it. Singing Goodbye Liza Jane, in her strong voice, Bonnie led her team onto the road. Claire smiled as the children joined in the song and the boys took their position beside each of the trailing wagons.

  When Father and Henry rode by, they looked different. Each wore pistols on their hips and carried a rifle in a saddle scabbard. Resting in the wagon boxes, ready to pull out if needed, were the loaded shotguns. Claire’s hand was still sore from the pistol. She hadn’t dared to try the shotgun yesterday. The Lieutenant had told her to have Bonnie show her later, when she felt better. For some reason, that had made her even more jealous.

  Claire looked back to the campsite, the only sign that they had been there was the circle of ashes in the center of the trampled and eaten grass. Claire could still see the handsome Lieutenant standing beside her tall friend, excited to lead the still dazed looking girl back into the shadows to say Goodnight. What had he said to Bonnie, and why was he so attentive to her. He had ignored Claire completely? Determined, she climbed carefully over the locked wagon tongue into the other wagon and worked her way through her parents’ neat quarters.

  Claire emerged onto the wagon seat beside her mother, who patted her daughter’s knee and smiled. “It’s hard to stay angry isn’t it, when the day is so beautiful,” Mother said.

  As they rode to the top of the little rise, they were surrounded by rolling fields of blue-green grass on one side, a pine thicket on the other.

  Bonnie’s song changed to In the Pines, and the children’s sweet voices filled in around her lower, vibrating one.

  Suddenly Claire swore and twisted on the seat, trying to see the girl singing. “Switch sides, Mother,” she or
dered and her Mother shook her head, but obliged by sliding under her impatient daughter. Claire leaned out and stared back up the trail. At the top of the rise, Bonnie stood illuminated by the soft glow of morning. “I knew it,” she stomped her foot and turned around, gripping the seat beneath her in anger.

  “Darling, what is wrong with you today?”

  “Don’t you hear her, don’t you know what it means?” Claire cried.

  Claire’s mother looked completely baffled.

  Claire sulked, making a fist to prop her chin on. “Bonnie never sings. The last time she was happy all the time, was when she was falling in love with that horrible, Tarn Micheals.”

  “No, you mean that nice Lieutenant Douglas is another bastard.”

  “No, but he is handsome. Why would two handsome men fall in love with Bonnie?”

  Mother stared at her pretty daughter, heard the unspoken complaint, ‘and why not me.’

  “Well, Bonnie is loving, sweet, patient, hard-working and smart.”

  “No, she barely had better marks than me. Lynne was the smart one. How smart can Bonnie be, if she married a bounder like Tarn?”

  “Have you forgotten, you were pretty taken with him for a while yourself,” her Mother said.

  Claire knew it was true, didn’t see the point of arguing. “But Bonnie is so tall and plain and her clothes are horrible. What do they see?”

  As their wagon wound up the next hill, Mother Wimberley leaned out her side. She saw Bonnie on the last rise. The girl was striding along in step with the team, her mouth open in laughter as she talked with the children. Too long limbed and lean, but with large, high breasts, there was no denying she was a striking woman. Instead of ruining her complexion, all the sun had seemed to polish Bonnie’s skin gold and her hair sparkled with copper highlights. For a minute, it looked like she was going to step off the trail into the air, like some winged goddess of old.

 

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