Brides of Prairie Gold

by Maggie Osborne

  "He's going to send me home on the first train going east, he said so." She returned Perrin's stare, too miserable and too panicked to question her next words. "I can't go back. You're the representativeyou have to speak to Mr. Snow in my behalf! After what you did to my father, you owe me!"

  "I did nothing to Joseph; I don't owe you anything!"

  "You"

  "You amaze me." Perrin's hands closed into fists at her sides. "Right now, I am all you have. No one else would help. Just me. Do you understand? You have offended a group of generous, kind-hearted women to the extent that they would rather see you suffer than endure a moment of inconvenience themselves."

  "They're nobodies!" The strength of outrage energized a body that had been too weary to stand just minutes before. She came to her feet with a snarl on her lips, hating it that Perm WaverlyPerrin Waverly!had come to her assistance. "Why should I care what a group of nobodies thinks about me?"

  Perrin's beautiful face settled into hard angry lines. "Will you for once stop congratulating yourself for being a Boyd? Will you just once stop riding the coattails of your ancestors and think about who you are? Haven't you ever wanted people to like you or admire you because you're you, not just because of an accident of birth?"

  Augusta drew back as if she'd suffered a blow to the stomach. "Shut up!" she hissed, shaking.

  "What do you plan to add to the illustrious Boyd line?" Perrin asked scornfully. She cast a disdainful glance around the mess surrounding Augusta's wagon. "Helplessness? Selfishness? An ability to offend everyone you meet coupled with a lack of kindness and an inability to care for yourself? Is that your contribution to the great exalted Boyd line?"

  "Shut up, shut up! I won't listen to this!"

  "Look at you! Why in the name of heaven didn't you ask for help? Is your stupid Boyd pride that overweening?"

  Augusta clapped her palms over her ears, scowling at the anger crackling in Perrin's eyes and face. She felt flogged by Perrin's fury and didn't understand it. If they had traded places, Augusta would have gloated.

  "None of you would have helped me anyway!"

  "The day you bend enough to ask for help is the day you become a real person and not the useless thing you are!" Perrin stepped backward and raised a shaking hand to her face, fighting for control. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I came to help you, not attack you."

  Augusta gathered her pride and found the strength to toss her dirty hair. "Dirty water finds the lowest level," she snapped. "I expect no less from you."

  Perrin spread her fingers and stared through them. "You and I will always despise each other."

  "I have good cause to hate you!"

  "And not enough sense to keep from showing it even when I'm the only person willing to help you." They glared at each other, then Perrin dropped her hand and almost shouted. "Go take your bath. Maybe if I don't have to look at you, I'll remember why I'm stupid enough to try to help. Maybe I won't change my mind."

  Icy reality chilled Augusta's bones. She remembered the earlier scene with Cody Snow, her tears and his implacability. She must be a lunatic to insult Perrin, the one person who might change Snow's mind as she had changed his mind about sending Winnie home, about letting Cora become a bride.

  What in the name of heaven was she doing? What kind of insanity pushed her toward destruction?

  Swallowing hard, she wrung her hands and frantically tried to perceive a way to backpedal without sacrificing what remnants remained of her dignity.

  "I can't return to Chastity," she blurted. Even the thought made her feel suicidal. "If you help me, if you'll make Snow change his mind, I'll pay you a generous sum!" Perrin's mouth fell open. "I have plenty of money. And you"

  "My services are not for sale," Perrin mumbled, her face pale. "If you don't leave right now, I swear I'll"

  Augusta took one look at Perrin's face, then turned and hurried toward the river. When she considered that her future, her life, depended on the fairness and fighting spirit of her worst enemy, she groaned in despair and began weeping again.

  "Goddammit!" Cody pushed back his hat, then swung around to face her. "I wish just once you'd stop interfering!"

  "I'll help her. Hilda will help a little too." She stared back at him from flat expressionless eyes. Standing in the sunlight, tendrils of dark hair fluttering from the edges of her bonnet, she was so stubbornly beautiful that she made his stomach cramp. She had felt so right beneath him.

  "I'd think you'd stand by cheering when Augusta rode out heading in the other direction! Instead, you want to help her." He shook his head in amazement and disbelief.

  "Believe me, I'd love to see Augusta leave. But when I was picked as the women's representative, I promised to be fair. Whether I like it or not, sending Augusta back to Chastity isn't fair! At least not without giving her a chance."

  "I gave her a week."

  "She's come a long distance in a week. Remember, this is a woman who had never even dressed her own hair before coming on this journey. Right now she's overwhelmed and she's too exhausted to think, let alone function. Give her another week, let us help her, then if she's still falling behind then send her home and good riddance. But let us try. You let us try with Winnie."

  Cody ground his teeth. He itched to shake her until her bones rattled, until he knocked the starch out of her spine. Wanted to kiss the pinched expression off her mouth. He glanced at Smokey Joe, who was sorting a bucket of wild strawberries not six feet away.

  "I want to speak to you privately."

  She glared at him. "There's nothing you have to say that can't be spoken right here." She too slid a look toward Smokey Joe, who made no secret that he eavesdropped on every word.

  Fuming, Cody strode toward a field of sunflowers, hoping she would follow. When she didn't, he returned to where she waited, her face stony and turned away from him.

  "All right, damn it. I'll give Augusta one more week. That's all. And I'm agreeing to this solely because you asked it, no other reason." To hell with Smokey Joe and whatever he made of this odd conversation.

  Perrin nodded, then caught her skirts against a puff of dusty wind, starting to turn away.

  "But Winnie leaves on the train coming through the gap now."

  She spun back to him, her dark eyes narrowing. "You have to send someone back? Is that it?" she snapped, sarcasm whipping her voice. "Don't punish Winnie because of your contempt for me!"

  "My contempt? Or your indifference?" He glared at her. "I just returned from finding Winnie and bringing her back. She spent the night in Murchason's camp," he said, disliking himself for enjoying the shock dawning on her expression as she suddenly noticed the bruises on his face, the cut on his chin. "In exchange for a bottle of laudanum, Winnie spent the night with a bastard named Clavell."

  He'd beaten Clavell to within an inch of his life. He wished he had finished the job.

  Perrin gasped. "Oh, my God." Her face paled beneath her sunburn and she swayed on her feet as if the marrow had leaked out of her bones. Throwing out a hand, she leaned on his arm.

  Her touch made him suck in a quick breath. His eyes narrowed and his groin tightened sharply. Immediately she snatched her hand away and high color flooded her face. She pressed her palms against her stomach, then looked up at him, cheeks flaming.

  "Cody" Large imploring eyes searched his.

  "No," he said firmly, not mistaking her meaning. "Winnie goes home. If I'd sent Winnie home when I wanted to, she would not have spent the night with Clavell. She'd have only half the distance to travel to get home to Chastity, only half the dangers to face. I hope to Christ that she isn't pregnant."

  Perrin nodded once, then walked away from him without a word, her head down, a hand at her eyes.

  He watched her skirt swaying from her hips, saw the pale nape of her neck.

  Abruptly Ellen came into his mind. Ellen, whom he had trusted and loved. Ellen, who had become another man's mistress while he was on campaign in the Dakotas.

  Stiffen
ing, he watched Perrin for another minute, then he turned and strode in the opposite direction. The surest way to avoid that kind of pain was never to love again.

  But he couldn't get her out of his mind. Even the wind whispering through the sunflowers seemed to murmur her name.

  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "Mr. Snow agreed to give you one more week," Perrin said coldly. "Hilda and I will each spell you at the reins once a day so you can get some rest. We'll teach you a few basic recipes so you can teed yourself and maintain your strength. This afternoon, we'll show you how to put up a wash so you'll have clean clothing to wear." Her eyes narrowed. "I hope you have a good memory, because we'll only show you once."

  Augusta lowered the tortoiseshell comb she pulled through wet hair and closed her eyes. She had bathed, then immediately reapplied the lotion Perrin had given her. Since she was standing in front of a mirror hanging on the side of the wagon, Perrin supposed Augusta knew how grotesque the dried milky lotion made her appear. But relief from sunburn and stinging insect bites had momentarily conquered the towering Boyd pride and vanity.

  "Thank you," Augusta whispered.

  Those two words shocked them both. They studied each other warily, then Perrin hurried toward Winnie's tent before Augusta added something that would spoil a moment that made her seem almost human.

  Wringing her hands, Jane tried to say good-bye while the teamsters transferred Winnie's goods into one of the wagons heading east, but Winnie was sobbing too loudly to hear.

  "You're going home," Perrin said, echoing Jane's words. She pinned Winnie's good hat on top of chestnut curls.

  Winnie grabbed her hands. "Please, please, please! Give me another chance. Please, don't let him send me back! Please!"

  "Oh, Winnie," Perrin whispered. Tears swam in her eyes.

  "I'll never do it again, I swear! I just I kept thinking about Billy Morris, and I knew the laudanum would help, so I but, Perrin!" Her fingernails dug into Perrin's hands, tears flooded her cheeks. "If I go home, I won't be strong enough to resist! I'll die. Please, help me!"

  Perrin turned aside, blinking hard at the teamsters transferring Winnie's belongings. She had wept and pleaded for Winnie again this morning, but Cody was intractable. Winnie had thrown away her second chance.

  Perrin rubbed her forehead. Was there something more she could have done to help Winnie? Anything? In the end, all she had accomplished was to put Winnie through the hell of withdrawal and delay the inevitable. For the rest of her life, she would blame herself for Winnie's fall from grace.

  "I'm sorry," she said helplessly, watching Winnie's expression fade from pleading to hopeless resignation.

  In silence, she and the others followed as Cody escorted a weeping Winnie Larson to the eastbound train, then helped her up onto the wagon seat beside a grizzled old man whom Cody had hired to drive her. Winnie covered her face and sobbed into her gloves.

  Jane dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron. "She was so happy to be free of the opiates," she whispered. "She really believed she would never be tempted again."

  "Winnie brought shame to herself and her family. She's killing herself," Sarah stated flatly. She dashed an angry hand across her lashes. "Now we've lost two. Lucy and Winnie."

  They watched the eastbound train roll past oxen carcasses and piles of abandoned furnishings. Then Smokey Joe banged his gong, signaling it was time to mount their wagons. Murchason's train had entered the gap. Cody Snow's train was next in line.

  The trail dropped south again. Now they could see the soaring craggy peaks of the Continental Divide. The sight stunned and awed them, taking the heart out of everyone.

  Bootie lowered Cora's wedding dress to her lap, putting down her needle, and swept a fearful frown toward the towering peaks. "I swan, I just don't know how we're going to get over them."

  "We'll go through South Park," Jane explained. "It's a natural break. Easy as apple pie. You won't even know you're crossing a mountain range."

  "Hold still," Thea cautioned, gazing at Jane, then down at her sketch pad. "How will I finish this if you keep fidgeting?"

  Twin lines puckered Jane's brow. "I told you, I don't want my portrait shown in your display."

  Mem set aside the lamp wicks she was plaiting, stretched her back, then leaned to inspect the lace Jane tatted for the collar on Cora's wedding dress. "What display is that?" she asked Thea.

  Thea waved her charcoal stick. "You know how Cora is always looking for a way to earn money"

  "She's doing the men's laundry," Bootie contributed.

  "She wants to display my work when we meet up with other wagons at South Pass. She says she'll set up a display and do the selling if I'll pay her a twenty percent commission on sales."

  "A commission?" Bootie inquired, blinking. "Fancy that. Where did Cora learn such a word, and what does it mean?"

  "I'm serious, Thea," Jane said, frowning. "I don't want my portrait offered for sale."

  Mem let the conversation swirl around her for another minute before she wandered away from the group, walking across some of the driest, most barren land she had seen. No wonder the oxen were going lame one after another. Cactus hugged the ground; the spines wreaked havoc on the poor oxen's feet. There was no water; dust choked everyone. It was a dismal stretch of country.

  For thirty idle minutes she watched Miles Dawson and the' teamsters wash the hooves of the limping oxen with strong soap, scrape away diseased flesh, then pour on tar or pitch. If the treatment was successful, perhaps tomorrow the train would make more than the six meager miles they'd traveled today.

  Continuing around the squared wagons, she lingered a moment to observe Sarah, Hilda, and Cora sitting in the hot shade beside Sarah's wagon, their heads bent over a chalk slate. Mem called a word of encouragement, then walked toward Perrin's wagon.

  "Feeling any better?" she inquired, finding Perrin resting on the shady side of her wagon, fanning her face and looking limp in the dusty heat.

  "A little. Thank you for the ointment."

  At the gap, where they had last done laundry, someone had moved Perrin's clothing from a thicket of willows and draped the garments over a stand of poison oak. Cody's clothing had ended up on the poison oak as well. Unaware, they had worn the clothes, then both had fallen ill for several days. Perrin had taken the worst of it. Her face and limbs were still swollen and lumpy, on fire with an itching that no treatment completely eased.

  "It was an unfortunate accident," Mem said, sitting on the ground beside Perrin's camp chair where she could view the snowcapped mountain peaks. They were as inspiring as she had hoped mountains would be if she was ever lucky enough to see any.

  "I wonder if it was an accident," Perrin commented, idly scratching her arms. When Mem lifted an eyebrow, she sighed. "Strange things have happened lately. Sand mixed with the coffee grounds, a hole in the sugar bag. We lost five pounds before Hilda noticed. Maybe I'm just but it is odd."

  "You push yourself too hard. You'd regain your strength faster if you'd stop wearing yourself out helping Augusta."

  "Augusta will make it now." They gazed past the animals being doctored in the square, inhaling the pungent thick scent of hot tar. Despite the relentless heat, Augusta worked around her wagon, practicing new and still shaky skills. Perrin waved a fan in front of her swollen face. "She's determined. She isn't going home." A whiff of grudging admiration underlay her flat tone.

  "Good for her," Mem answered tersely. "Too bad for us."

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence, lulled by the heat, until Mem grew too restless to sit still any longer. She pulled her long legs up under her and stood. The unremitting heat made her sleepy unless she kept moving.

  Rubbing her peeling sunburned forehead, she scanned the desolate hills surrounding them, then brightened. "Ah, here they come again. At least I think it's them, that Indian family." Three dots emerged from a distant ravine, moving slowly toward the train. "Last night I traded some bread loaves for a pair
of quilled moccasins. Did you trade for anything?"

  "I exchanged a jar of strawberry jelly for some beadwork." Perrin yawned, started to scratch the itchy welts on her chest, then made herself replace her hand in her lap.

  Mem hesitated, then lowered her head and shook the dust from the folds of her dark skirt. "Perrin? There's something I've been wanting to well, have you noticed that is, do you think there's a special fondness between Augusta and Webb Coate?"

  Perrin's eyes flew open and she laughed, cracking the white ointment that slathered her face. "Absolutely not! Last night I was showing her how to turn out her wagon when the Indians came. As far as Augusta is concerned, Indiansand that includes Webbare uncivilized barbarians. Creatures to fear and despise. She can't say a civil word about Webb." She examined the patches of color blooming on Mem's cheeks. "Why do you ask?"

  The scarlet deepened on Mem's cheekbones and she wished she had held her foolish tongue. Worse, the words kept coming. "Webb and I meet nearly every night by Smokey Joe's fire; we've done so almost from the start of the journey." When she observed Perrin's surprise, she clasped her hands tightly. "Webb is my friend, and I'm his. We've confided things about ourselves that no one else well, that's neither here nor there." She frowned at the distant peaks, then lowered her head. It felt so good to talk about him, just to speak his name aloud. "It upsets me to think that I'll never see him again after we reach Oregon."

  Perrin studied her flaming cheeks. "And you really think he cares for Augusta?"

  "I know he does." She had come this far; there was no point turning coy now. "Webb helped her that first week. He's the one who told Augusta how to make her first fire and set up her tent. I overheard him whispering instructions to her."

  "No, you didn't," Perrin disagreed, suddenly smiling.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You heard Heck Kelsey." When Mem gaped in disbelief, Perrin laughed. "When Heck finally told Cody what he'd done, Cody didn't believe it either. I did, because Webb was with Sarah and Cora and me when Heck was standing behind Augusta's wagon pretending to be Webb. Haven't you heard Heck imitate Cody and Webb before? Heck Kelsey can mimic any accent he has ever heard."