by Conn, Phoebe
Gabrielle's bright glance swept over Jason's features with far more interest than she had shown in the inquisitive Indian. His gray eyes were fringed with lashes as long and thick as her own,
and his expression was kind as he spoke to Erica. However, his warmth vanished when once again he turned to look down at her. 'The Dakotas camped near the river will prohahly arrive just before sundown tonight. Men, women, and children will be followed by a multitude of dogs. We need provide no more than fresh biscuits and meat; that will satisfy them. We needn'4 prepare the delicacy they would serve to their own guests." Jason waited then, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his mouth for he knew Gabrielle would want to know exactly what that might be.
"Since you said they save the buffalo liver for the children, I can scarcely imagine what they think an appropriate treat for their guests," she responded. As he had expected she was too curious not to inquire.
"As I said they have many dogs. They use them to carry bundles of their possessions when they move about, but they consider the fat pups a real delicacy. They usually grab one, just bash in its skull to kill it, hold the carcass over the fire to singe off the fur, and then toss the little critter into the stew pot.
Erica let out a strangled scream as she ran off. She raised both hands to cover her mouth, wanting only to escape her companions before she embarrassed herself by becoming ill right in front of them. Gabrielle was just as sickened by that tale, but she forced herself to swallow the wave of nausea which swept over her and asked, "Well, how does a puppy stew taste? Would you recommend such a dish yourself?"
Jason laughed at her question. As always he was delighted with her courage. "I have eaten it. Til admit, but I swear I didn't taste a bite since it was all I could do not to run off just as Erica did just now."
Pleased that he would tell her such a thing rather than boast that he frequently ate puppies for breakfast, Gabrielle recalled his earlier comments about his admiration for the Indian tribes. "As you said, their customs do clash with ours, but
perhaps if we both try, we can find some way to live together in peace."
Jason's expression revealed his pain as he admitted, "God help me, Gabrielle, I want only to live in peace with you." He turned back toward the fort then and sprinted away as if he'd forgotten the most urgent of appointments. She stared after him, wondering why he still believed she was the one who made that desire impossible.
When Jason returned later to tell the other emigrants that he'd invited a Dakota chief and his entourage to join them for a light supper, his announcement met with considerable alarm. He reassured everyone quickly that it was no more than a formality he observed on each of his trips and that they need have no fear. However, not until the Indians actually arrived, shy smiles lighting their dark faces, did the travelers begin to relax. They kept the Indians together, however, and watched their wagons closely to be certain the savages did not use the noise of the party to cover thievery. When at last the Dakotas returned to their own camp, the relief which swept the wagon train was evident. First a man appeared with a concertina, then another with a fiddle, and before long several couples had begun to dance to their spirited music. The mood became as light and happy as it had been the night they'd celebrated after the buffalo hunt. Soon the festivities began to attract men from the fort, and the party grew in both size and volume. The men of Fort Laramie joined in the fun and invited the women from the wagon train to dance.
As Gabrielle clapped her hands in rhythm with the music, she thought about the Indian who'd laughed with her at the fort. He'd come to the wagon train with the others, but he'd done no more than smile again and had made no attempt to approach her. Surrounded by his friends, he had eaten his portion of the food they'd served and then had left, apparently preferring the comfort of his tipi to remaining to try to speak with her. She knew friendship between them was not possible
since they could not even converse in the same language; still she was disappointed that she'd been unable to tell him at least one white woman was not afraid of him.
"Do you like to dance?" Marlene whispered softly. "I have never had an opportunity to learn."
Surprised by that admission, Gabrielle assured the shy blonde it was an easy skill to acquire. "I am certain we can teach you before we arrive in Oregon City, for I know the men there will want to dance with us."
"Oh, no. I had not even thought of that, whatever shall I do?" Marlene turned to watch as a tall, thin man in buckskins came out of the crowd to invite Iris to dance and the brunette followed his moves with a quick, light step. "I shall never be able to learn in time!"
"Marlene!" Gabrielle teased with a sparkling smile, "we will not reach Oregon City for months yet, you will be able to dance beautifully by then." She wondered about the others. Erica would surely know how to dance, and Barbara too. Iris obviously could, but perhaps Johanna would think dancing too frivolous since she was such a serious sort. Margaret was as shy as Marlene. Gabrielle reached out to tap her on the shoulder. "Do you like to dance, Margaret?"
"I love to listen to the music, but I know none of the steps," she admitted apologetically. However, her brown eyes were filled with admiration for the dancers moving so energetically nearby.
"You two just come with me for a moment." Gabrielle took their hands, leading them around behind the nearest wagon. "In no more than five minutes' time I can teach you enough to be any man's partner tonight, now just watch closely." She showed them how to do the simple skipping step that was the basis for most of the dances. "All you need do is follow your partner. The man has to lead and he'll show you what to do. Just smile and pretend you know exactly what you're doing and before long you will." She showed them once again exactly
how to move; then she had each of them give it a try. Soon her two pupils were laughing happily as they danced upon the grass, their steps in perfect time to the music.
Jason leaned against one of the wagons. He preferred to remain in the shadows and watch since he felt so little like dancing. He realized the amusement was good for the travelers—there was little fun on the long journey—but he could not dance with one of the brides without dancing with every one of them. Knowing that would take the entire night, he did not want to ask any of them. Clay was dancing with the young women, as were two of the drivers; and the employees of the American Fur Company had taken most of the other girls on their arms. Jason was satisfied that he'd not be missed, but then he noticed Gabrielle was no longer standing on the sidelines. He looked quickly through the assembled dancers, and seeing no sign of her long red hair, he dashed around the perimeter of the enthusiastic group to see where she might have gone. He'd seen the friendly Indian brave that night too and had kept a careful watch on the young man. But had he left quietly with his tribe only to return later alone? Jason pushed his way through the crowd, desperate to find Gabrielle before she came to some terrible harm, and when he found her happily giving dancing lessons he lost all control of his temper.
"You must not wander off by yourselves like this, ladies, the risk is simply too great. Now Til have to tell the musicians to put away their instruments and send everyone to bed if you three can't remember to stay where you belong!"
While Gabrielle was exasperated at finding herself again the object of Jason's wrath, and for the second time in one day, Marlene and Margaret were so devastated by his stinging lecture that their eyes filled with tears and they began to sob pathetically. The pair behaved like rambunctious children being scolded for breaking a piece of their grandmother's highly prized crystal. Coming swiftly to their defense, Gabrielle explained that they had not gone far and were only
practicing a few dance steps so Margaret and Marlene could join in the fun.
It was Jason who was embarrassed then, for he'd not meant to yell at the young women so rudely. "Forgive me if I frightened you; I am overzealous at times, I know. Just go back to the party and enjoy yourselves, and I will want to dance with you myself in a moment." He waited w
hile they turned to go, but Gabrielle pushed her two pupils on in front of her and then returned to speak with Jason in terms so blunt she was sure he'd understand.
"I'm the one you're mad at, Jason, only me. I can take your temperamental outbursts, but most of the other girls can't. They shouldn't be subjected to your constant stern lectures when they don't deserve them. It was Erica this morning. Now it is Marlene and Margaret, who are so sweet they didn't even understand what risks you were talking about. Can't you just take me aside instead of punishing everyone else too?"
"I told them I was sorry. What more do you want?" Jason asked with a weary sigh. He'd not explain again that he was responsible for their welfare when she knew how lightly he'd taken those responsibilities in her case.
"We're not sheep, ewes you're herding across the plains to please some waiting rams! Damn it! We're women and deserve far more consideration than you ever show!"
Jason folded his arms across his chest, barely able to contain his anger as he replied. "Apparently you think I'm the one who deserves the stern lecture now. Well go ahead and give it; I'm listening." But he wasn't, he was listening to the dance tunes the two musjpians were playing with such carefree abandon. He wished he could pull Gabrielle into his arms and dance the night away.
"Jason?" Gabrielle called his name softly as she walked to his side, for she much preferred his charming smile to the frown he now wore. "I am not angry with you, and I can't bear the fact you're always so angry with me."
Bathed in the soft Hght of the moon, her expression was so sincere and at the same time so inviting that Jason drew her into his arms and kissed her with a passion so brutally demanding that her lips were bruised by the force of his affection. Yet when he finally released her she did not draw away. She laid her cheek upon his chest and hugged him tightly, wanting all that he could give. "I have missed you so terribly, Jason." She was close to tears herself then, clinging to him and not daring to hope he'd missed being with her as well.
Jason held the slender beauty, sifting her flowing tresses with a tender touch as the memory of her splendid loving filled his loins with a painful ache. He had never needed another woman as desperately as he needed Gabrielle; yet each word he spoke, each gesture he made seemed to be the wrong one. He enfolded her in a warm embrace, praying she would stay with him for as long as they could escape the others' notice, until dawn if only she would agree. "Let us find a place where we can be alone, for whatever torment you have felt is slight compared to mine." He kissed the top of her head lightly and waited patiently for her to agree, but when she drew away the sadness in her expression broke his heart.
'*You know that is impossible, every bit as impossible now as it was before. I must go!" With that breathless goodbye she left him, returning to the outer ring of spectators to watch the others while they danced. She wiped the tears from her eyes before they could be seen, but she was so depressed she did not think she would ever again be able to find the simple happiness which made dancing such a joy. It was then she recalled that she had not danced since the last night she'd been with Beau. There had been a party to send his uncle's family upon their way to Oregon, and she and Beau had danced until their feet were numb, not wanting the night to ever end for they knew how many months they would be parted. They would never have said goodbye had they known it was to be forever.
Jason returned to the impromptu party, and as he'd
promised, he danced first with Margaret and then with Marlene. He held the shy young women lightly in his arms, complimented them upon their grace, and was pleased when they blushed with pleasure. It had not occurred to him that any of the brides would not know how to dance, and he wondered what else he and Clayton had failed to consider. He was afraid Gabrielle had been close to the truth. While he'd certainly never regarded the young women as sheep, he'd not thought of them often or gotten to know them. It had all been a business proposition. Men they knew wanted wives and he and Clayton had decided to provide them. How he wished he'd listened to his conscience, for he'd thought the scheme would prove increasingly difficult as the journey progressed. He'd been worried then that the women would suffer, but now he knew it was his own heart that could not take much more.
The Indians appeared at dawn, lances in their hands, their bows and quivers filled with arrows slung upon their backs. They did no more than sit silently upon their ponies, but the mere sight of them was enough to frighten the emigrants into heeding Jason's order to turn out with astonishing speed. Although they were not followed, the wagons continued to roll at a brisk clip and few wanted to stop for the customary noon break. Knowing the animals could not be driven at so relentless a pace, Jason ordered a halt. He'd gone out to scout the trail and had seen no evidence that large numbers of Indians were roaming about, but he was uneasy. The Dakota had not ridden out to bid them farewell for no reason. He posted a double guard that night, and although no one sounded an alarm during the night, at dawn the silhouettes of the Indian braves could be seen atop the nearby hills. They were following the wagon train, silently stalking it, and that second night no one slept.
Clayton paced nervously in front of the tent as he attempted to make Jason see reason. "I think you should give the order to turn back."
Jason rejected that idea as preposterous. ''If they want to
attack us they will. Clay. It won't matter to them if we're heading east or west. They aren't trying to make us turn back; | it's something else they're after."
Startled by that possibility, Clayton asked abruptly, "What could it be?"
"I'm not certain yet," Jason admitted slowly. "But we'll keep right on moving as if we enjoyed their company." He'd cleaned his rifle three times that night, but now he laid the weapon aside. 'Try to get some rest, you may need it."
"How can any of us rest with those savages drawing closer by the hour? This is insanity I tell you, we've got to return to Fort Laramie!"
"Why? We can't camp there all summer. No, Clay. And keep your fears to yourself, I'll not have you spreading hysteria about the camp." Jason had been born with the perfect temperament for stress. The worse a situation grew, the more calmly logical his thoughts became. Picking up his rifle again, he got to his feet as he announced, "I'm going for a walk. Now do us both a favor and get some sleep."
He moved slowly around the ring of wagons, walking on the inside tonight so as not to provide a tempting target. He offered the same advice to all who seemed to need it: if the Indians attacked, the wagon train was well prepared to defeat them. When he came to Sam Duffy's wagon he waited a moment, wanting to speak with his wife. She seemed even more nervous than the other women he'd seen that night. Her bony fingers kept wrinkling her apron as she responded to his greeting.
He'd kept a close eye on the woman and her three children, feeling certain she'd not complain no matter how badly her husband behaved, but there was no sign Sam had repeated the brutal assault he'd interrupted.
"How are you tonight, Mrs. Duffy?" he inquired politely.
"I am just fine, sir, thank you."
The woman smiled shyly as she replied, seemingly embarrassed by his interest. Although her once-blonde hair
was now lightly touched with gray, she was still remarkably pretty when she smiled.
"I want to hear about it if you're not," Jason reminded her softly, but when her apprehension seemed to increase at that remark, he moved on. She was a proud woman, he hoped not too proud to ask for help if she needed it.
When he reached the brides' wagons, he found all the young women huddled together, their usually animated conversation being conducted in hoarse whispers. The eyes they turned upon him were filled with fright, and he could think of little to say to reassure them. More imaginative than many of the others, Iris' mind was filled with the prospect of gruesome tortures and she leaped to her feet the moment she saw Jason approaching.
"Can't you post more guards to protect us, Mr. Royal? We have no way to defend ourselves against the bloodthirsty savages who coul
d be surrounding us at this very moment!"
Prying her fingers loose from his arm, Jason smiled as if her request were completely unnecessary. ^'Miss Stewart, you mustn't worry so. The camp is adequately guarded."
"But how can it be?" she persisted. "We have no more than our drivers and they can't stay awake all night!" Iris was terrified, shaking with fright, and this time grabbed his left arm with both hands but he again pushed her away.
"They won't have to. Miss Stewart, there are other guards as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. Good night, ladies." He tried to include them all in his glance, but Gabrielle raised her hand to catch his attention as she leaped to her feet.
"I'll be happy to stand guard, you know I can shoot well enough to do it." She was tired of listening to the frightened whispers of the others and wanted to do something far more active than merely complain as Iris had.
Not wishing to alarm the other young women, Jason kept on walking. He knew Gabrielle would pursue him until she made
her point. As she drew near, he whispered so only she could hear, "Come with me and we'll discuss it."
Running along heside him, Gahrielle again extended her offer. "I mean it, Jason. Please let me help you."
Certain her traveling companions could no longer observe them, Jason turned to face her. ''You do understand what you're volunteering to do, don't you? You might be able to shoot branches on a tree but do you honestly think you could kill an Indian?"
Appalled by that grisly prospect, Gahrielle nevertheless responded confidently. ''Yes. If I had to I could do it."
Jason sighed, sorry she was so naive. "Not just any Indian, Gahrielle. Let's say a young one, a handsome fellow with a grin which could melt snowflakes before they hit the ground. Ponder that possibility a moment and then give me your answer."