Laine stared at her. “You’re happy he hit me?”
“No, not at all. But I do like to see weak people get a backbone.”
“Because of John?”
Truth registered in the boy’s eyes. Blue like Ed’s. they were so alike. “Yes, I guess so.” Not wanting to misrepresent John, yet she had to agree.
Laine shook his head. “I think John is strong. I think he’ll fight when he needs to. That’s the kind of man he is.”
She looked at the boy. “You believe that, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s not a coward. He’s one of them who needs a real reason to fight.”
“And where did you get that information?”
“Ed. He showed me how to size people up.” Laine laughed. “In fact, he told me my brother would pop me sooner or later. I didn’t believe him. But Ed was right. He said it’s important to know the man you’re facing and what they’ll do.”
“I see.” She wetted the handkerchief and handed it to him again. “It’s just about stopped bleeding.” Susan looked around but didn’t see Anna.
“Thanks. Doesn’t even hurt now.” Laine stood and handed her the hanky.
“Why don’t you keep it for now, just in case it starts bleeding again.”
“Thanks.” Laine walked off and went toward the saloon. The busiest place in town where most of the men had gone.
She hoped Ed would stop him from going inside, but it wasn’t her place to mother the boy. Susan left the water and was halfway to the store when her thoughts caught up to her. Why wasn’t it her place to stop Laine from making a mistake? He was part of their little entourage on the way to Oregon now.
Susan was almost to Laine when she heard a loud voice. She reached Laine and pulled him to her as a rough-looking man charged past them.
“Mitchum! I’m calling you out!”
Ed stepped away from his horse, looked at her, and Laine. He shook his head. “Nothing to call out for Mister.”
“You killed my brother back in Texas.”
Ed stared at the man. “I never shot anyone who wasn’t shooting at me.”
“Don’t matter. Today’s the reckoning.” The man pulled his coat, revealing his pistol.
Ed turned his back on the man. With one hand up, he undid his belt buckle and let his holster fall to the ground. “I’m not fighting anymore.”
The man cursed and fired at Ed’s feet.
“I’m not going to fight you.” Ed turned to face him. “Kill me if you want to hang.”
Throwing his gun down, the man ran at Ed.
Stepping aside at the last minute, Ed let the man run into the hitching post and fall down. “Told you, I’m not fighting you, today or any other day.”
Coming up, the man swung at Ed, missed. Swung again, and Ed stepped aside, missing the blow.
“Stop it now! Argyle, you been sporting for a fight all week.” An army captain grabbed his arms behind his back. “Now, settle down.” With a look over his shoulder, he ordered two men to take him. “Put him in jail. He can sleep off the whiskey.”
The captain looked at Ed. “Third fight he’s tried this week. He’s either out to kill someone or get killed. I’ll keep him locked up for a week, and you’ll be well on your way. You could have taken him. Why didn’t you? Might have saved me some trouble.”
Ed nodded at him and then picked up his gunbelt and slung it over his saddle. He glanced back at Susan and then shrugged. “Not worth the trouble.”
She was still hanging onto Laine. But a feeling of pride warmed her heart. Had Ed done that for the boy? For her? So, Ed could put away his past. Could he be a good husband for her?
Laine tore apart from her and ran to Ed. “You were great.”
Ed put an arm around him. “Let’s go in and get us a sarsaparilla.” He walked Laine into the saloon.
Susan smiled. Ed had said it loud enough for her to hear that they were getting sarsaparilla. Well, that was something. Ed didn’t fight. And wasn’t drinking whiskey. Already, she could hear men from the wagon train inside, getting ready to be in trouble with their wives.
It would be a hard night at the wagon train tonight. Susan laughed. Then she saw John walking toward her.
He passed her and walked into the saloon. She knew he wouldn’t be drinking sarsaparilla. That bothered her. She had smelled whiskey on his breath that first day she’d met him. Sighing, Susan went back to the store to find Anna.
Chapter 13
John made it back to the wagon well before midnight. The moon was full and shone silver on the trail. He’d drank too much. Again. Why the whiskey got to him, he wasn’t sure. It made him feel strong and smart.
Yet, he’d made a fool out of himself. Ed had tried to get him to go back with him and Laine.
John had refused. He had friends in the saloon. The same anonymous friends he always found in such places. They enjoyed his stories. Hung on his every word and bought him another drink when he feigned, he’d forgot the climax.
Now, he was stumbling drunk. The ground was enticing him. And if he hadn’t been amongst all the Teepees, he might have lain down and gone to sleep. He didn’t think they were the scalping kind of Indians, but John valued his hair too much to find out.
Almost to the wagon train, he stopped and leaned against a big boulder. Campfires and lanterns lit the night. On the way to his wagon, Susan’s wagon, that is, he heard more than one wife scolding her husband.
He laughed. He had no woman to rebuke him. No sir. Then he smelled the whiskey on his shirt. What would Susan say? Would he be able to stop if Susan asked him to?
Would he want to stop for her? That was the real question. Why had he gone in that saloon when he knew he’d come out drunk? Was it to scare her away and save him from having to marry her? Or having to be responsible for her?
His head reeled from the liquor and the questions. What had he done? Those people back in the saloon were no more his friends than the Indians who glared at him as he walked past them.
He’d seen Ed take off his gun. Had he done that for Susan? Maybe Laine. Regardless, Ed had made a change. Something he had yet failed to do. Well, tonight, John vowed to the moon and the stars, that he’d not take another drink. He was through being the fool.
He stumbled to the wagon and unfolded his bedroll. Soon he was asleep. Tomorrow, he’d tell her.
The sun peeked over the horizon and stabbed his eyes, which set loose the pounding in his head. John sat up, closed his eyes, and stumbled to his feet.
“I’ll get the oxen.” Ed’s voice, strong and solid but without judgment broke through the noise in his head.
John opened his eyes which set off another round of painful pounding. “I’ll get them. It’s my job.”
Ed grinned. “I just figured you might need some help.”
“Help, I can accept.” He looked at Ed. “I saw you walk away from that man yesterday.”
Ed nodded. “I figured the boy and Susan didn’t need to see me shoot a man down.”
“You’re that sure you could have taken him.”
Ed looked at him, his eyes hard and steady. “Yes. I could have killed him. I don’t want that life anymore.”
John smiled and put his hands to his head to try and stop the ringing. “I made a vow to the moon and stars last night. No more drinking.”
“How many times have you made that vow?”
John stared at him. How did he know? “A few. But this time, I meant it.”
“If you marry Susan, you better mean it.”
That shocked him. John pulled on Ed’s shoulder. “You falling in love with that woman?”
Ed stopped and looked west. “I don’t know, but I want to change. I need to for myself. For Laine. And Susan.”
John nodded. “You’ve just given me the push I need. I’ll stop drinking. I mean it this time. It’s time we changed for ourselves. Regardless of who Susan chooses.”
Ed smiled. “That’s what I think. I feel better. If I’d have shot tha
t man, I’d have been in the saloon with you still drinking and trying to stop the nightmare of dying men’s faces.”
“I’m glad you took off your gun.” John looked and saw that Ed still wore the pistol and holster.
Ed saw him look. “For protection. Rattlers. I heard a settler lost an ox to a rattler just last night.”
John nodded. “Thanks for not judging me. I hate myself enough after getting drunk.”
Ed clapped him on the shoulder. “I know that all too well myself. Let’s get those oxen and get them yoked. Soon we’ll reach Independence Rock. Right on time too. Pioneers say you want to be there by the Fourth of July. And that’s tomorrow.”
John nodded. He hadn’t had the foggiest notion of what day or even what month it was. So wrapped up in his own world, he’d forgotten about the time they needed to get to Oregon. Winter snows could come early.
As it was, Dan had talked about how they needed to make a cabin before the first snow. A warm cabin. Or they’d have to stay in the city and John knew that none of them had enough money to do that.
Dan had shown him the plans he had to build the cabin. What to do to make it winterized and how much wood he’d have to chop. The barn they’d have to build. So much work.
After the barn was built, they’d have to buy a cow for milk and butter. Hunt for meat to carry them through the cold months. And then buy seeds to bury in the ground and hope for a crop the following spring.
So much to do. Just thinking about it caused his still aching head to hurt more. He appreciated Ed for not blasting him for his stupidity. John still cringed at what Susan would do. A fine example he’d displayed for Laine.
After the oxen were yoked and on their way, John pulled out his notebook. Wanting to write, he climbed into the wagon and set the reins beside him. He gave a gentle tap of the leather to let the beasts know he was still here, and they were to keep on walking.
He took his pencil from his pocket and opened the notebook. He was writing. What he wasn’t sure, but it was to Susan. He flipped to the last page.
Susan, the first time I saw you walk into that dingy hotel, you brightened up the whole place. Oh, I saw you were scared. Frightened by all the men in the room wearing despair as if it were a cloak. No hope. That is until you walked into that room.
I wasn’t the only one. I saw Charles, the clerk. He looked at you, and a twinge of a smile played on his lips. He was quite taken with you. He knew you were coming. Dan would sit with us, Charles and me, and tell us all about what he knew of you.
We all waited in great anticipation. I guess it was Dan’s passing that had diverted our attention, and we hadn’t realized that was the day. Until you walked into the hotel. I was most taken.
I have to tell you that your eyes, your lips, and the blond of your hair were so refreshing as if the Lord had sent an angel to give us hope that life could be good. It had been so long that I don’t think a man in that room could remember the last time they had hope.
Then you asked for Dan.
My heart sank to the depths of sorrow. You, Susan, who had come all this way only to be met by the news that your hero had fallen. Not even in battle but by a drunken man in the saloon. And Dan rarely went to the bar.
He was celebrating, he’d told me. For once, I didn’t go, or it could have been me who was killed. But I lived. And when you walked into the hotel, I came alive. Do you remember? I went to you right away. I knew you’d be upset.
I ran to Dan’s room and grabbed his things and took you to the wagon Dan had bought. I’d helped him buy the stock. Dan had been saving for some time and had plenty of money to stock the wagon for the journey.
He’d asked me once if I wanted to go along, but I’d turned him down. I don’t really know why. That’s not true. I know exactly why. I was afraid to take a chance at a new life. I was safe and content with my life of existing. Nothing was expected of me, and I met those expectations completely.
Then you came. You needed help. And when Sam said you couldn’t go to Oregon without a man, a husband, it became clear to me. I could take Dan’s place. After all, hadn’t I wanted to for months?
Secretly, I looked at Dan and wished I was him. That I had something to look forward to. Now, I could be him. So, I asked you to marry me. Not thinking past that day or night, I took Dan’s place. Almost married you, but Ed showed up.
The one man who could take Dan’s place legally. Logically, he’s the better choice, too. I think you know that. Last night, you can see the date at the top of the page, I made a fool of myself.
Not that it was the first time. Liquor has been the bane of my soul. I drink, and I don’t care. Then I drink because I don’t do anything, and the cycle repeats. Last night, Susan, I made up my mind. I will not touch another drink.
Perhaps it won’t be hard as there are no more stores until we get to Fort Bridger. And that’s if we take that cutoff. So, I have plenty of time to dry out. If I disappear from time to time, it may be because I can’t stand myself.
There are times that I have stopped drinking, usually because I didn’t have the money, but as the days of abstinence stretched out, I saw horrid things. Fear. Big and ugly as any monster you can imagine would come at me and shake its horrid fist in my face until I would find a way to get a drink.
They are my demons. Many I have collected along the way, but today with the help of the Lord, I am getting rid of them. I’m not sure how. I asked Ed to help me, and he said he would. Ed isn’t as wicked a man as I had originally thought, but I believe he carries his own nightmares.
What about you, Susan? I’m too shy to ask you, but are you afraid? You seem so brave as to come all this way alone to marry a man you didn’t know. I doubt I have that much courage. Perhaps after I am free from the liquor, I will discover that I, too, can be brave.
Well, the oxen are slowing. I better put up my writing and see to them. It’s one thing I seem to be able to do. Red and I have become friends over the miles. However, this journey ends, I hope we will all be friends.
John Burke
He set the book down and then halted the oxen. John had heard how some had been run over by the wagon wheels when trying to get off the moving wagons. And after his night of drinking, he wasn’t the most agile.
He climbed down, took up the reins, and encouraged Red to move on. John grinned. Red looked at him as if he enjoyed having his old friend back beside him. Or maybe it was because the big ox enjoyed having his ear rubbed.
Chapter 14
Susan wiped the ever-present dust from her face. The grueling hours walking and coughing dust were taking its toll on the pioneers. But she was determined to go on. She wore a handkerchief over her mouth and nose to keep from breathing some of the dust.
The wagon master said rain was scarce, and it was likely to get dustier.
Susan thought that hard to believe. They were definitely at a higher altitude now, and the Rockies were clearly visible, having lost their purple shadow. Now, they showed brown, jagged rocks with some even now still topped with snow.
Her two men worked hard. John was keeping the oxen and wagon going the right direction, and Ed, well, Ed did what he did. But she was sure he did it well. She’d asked John if he didn’t want Ed to walk with the oxen and trade-off, but he’d said no.
Ed never talked about the man who’d try to shoot him. Or the fact that Ed had taken his gun off that day to stop the fight. He was a private man who kept his thoughts and his heart to himself.
Not that she was any different. She hadn’t really told the men about herself. She never really faced her troubles. Not recognized her own shortcomings. Perhaps, if she had been different and more open to people, she’d have been married in Pennsylvania with a family of her own and not half a continent away walking in the dust.
And that with two men she really didn’t know and was supposed to choose between them and marry one of them. What had she done to herself? Her lack of intention and decisiveness had cost her once again.
There was little point in cleaning up in the morning. All of them looked as if they were part Indian because they were covered in the red dust. The day was warming up too. Hotter than hot now.
In the far distance, she could see a mound rising up out of the flat plains. Such an odd sight.
Ed happened to ride back to her to see if all was going well. He did that from time to time, as if it was his duty to check on her and make sure she was safe. But always at a distance. Never did he dismount and walk alongside her.
And John, he never left the oxen except to occasionally climb into the wagon and write in his notebook. She wondered what he wrote. Stories? Thoughts? He never said, and she, being a private person, never asked.
Ed pointed to the mound. “That’s Independence Rock. We’ll camp there tonight if all goes well.”
She nodded. “And if all doesn’t go well, where will we camp?”
He looked at her as if that was the oddest thing to ask. He didn’t answer and soon rode off.
Susan watched him ride away. It would be nice if one day, he would take her and whisk her away like a knight in shining armor. She folded her arms. This wasn’t right. She needed to make a decision. The first thing she needed to know was if either of these men wanted her. She’d not asked because she was afraid the answer would be no, and neither of them wanted her.
Today that would end. She would begin to make her decision. No longer was she going to accept what was leftover as if she never had a choice. This was her choice. Dan had provided the wagon for her. This was her chance.
If neither of them wanted her, then she needed to know now. There were other single men on this wagon train. Not to mention, Oregon was full of single men looking for a good wife.
Susan Page 8