“I was watching the shooting match back there.” He pointed in the direction from where Josie and Harley had come while he seemed to stumble over his words. “And I was hoping to have a word with you.”
Harley grumbled. He shook the man’s hand. “Make it quick. We got business at the trading post.”
The man hesitated. He glanced around, then held out his hand to Josie. “I’m Anthony Hammond. I’m very impressed with your skills with that firearm.”
Josie glanced at the man’s outstretched hand. Slowly, she raised hers and placed it in his, then jerked back almost instantly. Being around Harley’s rough friends was one thing, but neither she nor Harley knew this man. Other than the Wilders, she hadn’t had any kind of contact with a man in years, and it was better that way.
“Hammond . . . do I know you?” Harley’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. By the look on his face, the name seemed familiar to him, but from his uncertainty, it was clear he had never seen this man before.
Anthony Hammond’s forehead scrunched, and he shook his head. “I don’t believe so. I don’t recall hearing your name before, and as I said, you and the lady caught my eye because of that shooting contest.”
Lady?
Josie smirked silently. Her eyes darted downward at her clothing. Leather britches and a leather hunting shirt, moccasins laced up to her knees. Her hair was braided in one long rope that hung down her back nearly to her waist. Her fashion style had been the same for years. There was nothing ladylike about her, and that was as it should be.
Next to her, Harley grunted. He still studied the man with his keen eyes, undoubtedly trying to place him. Something about Anthony Hammond nagged at him, but he hadn’t put his finger on it, yet.
“Are ya interested in another match?” Harley leaned forward slightly to stare the man in the face.
Hammond gave a quick laugh and even took a step back, waving his hand in front of him. “Oh, no. I can assure you I am not interested in entering a shooting match. I’m afraid my skills with handling a weapon are nowhere near the level of Miss –” His brows rose.
Harley didn’t give her a chance to respond to the man’s unanswered question. “Her name’s Josie, and I’m Harley Buchanan. What is it ya want, then?”
Anthony Hammond smiled uneasily, then glanced over his shoulder. Off in the distance, wagons were camped along the creek that flowed past Fort Hall. Years ago, Josie had camped along the same stretch with her sisters after they’d arrived at the trading post. Little had they known then that they would not continue their journey to Oregon.
What would life be like if Cora had found someone to take them all the way to Oregon? Instead, Nathaniel Wilder had offered her his name to protect her, but instead of taking them further west, he’d brought them all to Harley’s Hole. The only one who had left to pursue her dreams had been Caroline.
“I’m looking for someone to help guide a group of families back to Independence.”
Harley laughed. Josie glanced from the old mountain man to Anthony Hammond. She masked her surprise at his request by studying the tufts of grass on the ground. Folks usually needed guides to get them to Oregon, but not in the opposite direction.
“This isn’t a joking matter, Mr. Buchanan.”
Josie glanced up. Anthony Hammond had lost his smile and was looking at Harley with a serious, almost desperate expression.
Harley cleared his throat and rubbed his bearded chin. “What’s that got to do with me’n Josie?”
Hammond shifted weight. His eyes darted from Harley to Josie, then back to Harley.
“After seeing your . . . uh, granddaughter shoot, I was hoping she might consider hiring on with us.”
Josie swallowed a gasp, then coughed from choking. Harley gave her a hard pat on the back. He waited until her coughing fit ended, then looked at her with an all-familiar glance that sent a renewed ripple of apprehension to Josie’s stomach.
“No.” She shook her head.
Anthony Hammond took a step closer, holding out his hand. “Please, at least come and meet the people you’d be helping. They’re mostly women and children. They’ve been through a lot, and they’re scared.”
He spoke in a quiet, soothing voice, and his eyes looked at her with kindness and patience.
Josie’s wide eyes stared up at Harley. “Can we talk in private?” She grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the trading post, away from Anthony Hammond.
Harley dug in his heels and turned to Hammond. “Where ya camped?”
Hammond’s gaze lit up with a glimmer of hope. He turned slightly and pointed toward a grove of trees where several covered wagons were parked in the shade. It was too far to make out any details about the people in that area.
“Perhaps the two of you could discuss it, and then meet me there in, say, an hour? My mother and I would be happy to have you join us for supper.”
“We’ll be there.” Harley offered his hand to Hammond, then allowed Josie to drag him away.
“I can’t believe you gave him the idea that I’d even consider what he said,” she hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. “Even if I could be a guide to a group of emigrants - which I can’t - I’m not going to do it.”
Harley stopped in his tracks and shot her one of those hard stares that he normally reserved for Travis or Ethan.
“An’ why can’t ya?” Harley faced her without flinching, a challenge in his eyes.
Josie shook her head. She expelled an exasperated breath of air. “I didn’t even want to come to Fort Hall. You know I’ve got no use for being around people, least of all a bunch of strangers.”
“Ya heard what the man said. It’s a buncha women’n children. Seems like they jes wanna get back to where they came from, and need someone to get’em there. I’ve heard of folks turnin’ ’round all the time ‘cause they realized they’d made a mistake in headin’ west.” Harley paused and wiped his hand under his nose. “The least we could do is meet them folks ’n hear what Hammond’s got to say, Josie. If ya ask me, this might be a good opportunity for ya to get out in the world and stop hidin’ at Harley’s Hole.”
“I have no wish to get out in the world,” she retorted, leaning toward him. She narrowed her eyes and glared at her mentor. Harley chuckled.
“Ya look more’n more like yer sister, Cora. ’Specially when ya get yer back up. Ya got her spunk and determination, too, I suspect, if ya’d only let it shine more. ’N not jes ’round me.”
Josie opened her mouth to offer a retort, but she held back. Some of what Harley had said was true. Years ago, she’d been proud of being compared to her oldest sister. Cora was fearless, and she never held back from speaking her mind or going after something that was important to her.
Josie had always looked up to Cora and had been determined to be just like her someday. Everything had changed that horrible day, when . . .
“At least hear what Hammond’s got to say,” Harley repeated. “I’d never ask ya to do somethin’ ya ain’t capable of doin’, and ya know I’m always lookin’ out fer ya ’n want what’s best fer ya.”
Josie shook her head. A week ago, she’d argued with Harley about coming to Fort Hall. Now he was trying to get her to leave on a journey that would take months. She was nowhere near ready or prepared for such an undertaking, neither mentally nor physically. He must be more drunk than she’d thought.
She raised her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. “They can find someone else. Why does it have to be me? There are dozens of men – highly capable woodsmen that know the country – who could take them back east.”
Josie stared at Harley. Her anger evaporated, just as it had when he’d talked her into that shooting competition. This time she wasn’t going to budge, however. How could he even consider the notion that she should scout for a group of people that would take her away from her beloved and secluded valley?
Harley grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “it’s time ya get out and experience the
world.” He coughed, then gazed toward the wagons.
“Let’s take Hammond up on his offer to eat supper with ’em. I’d like to know why they are headin’ back, and why he thinks yer the person he should hire. Maybe then we can find him someone suitable.”
Josie pressed her lips together. If she refused to at least eat supper with the emigrants, Harley would be even more adamant. He’d probably leave her standing in the dust. He was just stubborn enough that way.
Anthony Hammond had said the group was mostly women and children. What harm would it do? Harley knew her fears. He wouldn’t leave her alone with them, knowing she’d already declined Hammond’s offer.
In a way, Harley was right. She needed to be less afraid of the world. What had happened to her nearly eight years ago was in the past. The memories of that horrible day would remain with her until the end of her days, but she couldn’t live in fear for the rest of her life. That’s why Harley had taught her to defend and protect herself.
After that fateful day, Josie had withdrawn from everyone. She’d become quiet, apprehensive, and had lost all joy in life. Cora had made the decision to take her family west for a new start. She’d always blamed herself for what had happened to Josie.
“If I could, I’d kill him for what he did to you,” Cora had said, tears of anger and anguish running down her face after finding Josie beaten and violated in their family’s barn.
Josie had grabbed her sister’s arm. “You can’t, Cora. There’s nothing you can do. If you kill him, who’s going to look out for us? You’ll get arrested and hanged.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again, Josie. I promise. After Mama died, I swore to protect you, Caroline, and Patrick. I’m so sorry I failed you.”
Cora had kept her promise. She’d protected all of her siblings, and they’d made a fresh start. They hadn’t made it all the way to Oregon, but they’d ended up at Harley’s Hole, which was even better. For nearly eight years, Josie had lived to forget what had happened to her.
Weeks and months went by without a thought of her past. Every now and then, the horror would replay in her dreams, making her fearful for days, but the nightmares came less and less. What would happen if she left Harley’s Hole? The valley had protected her all these years. The thought of being surrounded by people, especially men, brought about an uncomfortable feeling.
“The best way to get over yer fears is to face’em head on,” Harley had always said when they were hunting in the woods. “That don’t mean ya don’t respect the critters that’re out there. No question any number of ‘em can kill ya, but if yer scared, how’re ya gonna bring home meat? B’sides, bein’ scared all the time stops ya from livin’ life.”
He’d been a patient teacher, showing her how to avoid predators or what to do if she encountered one; as well as how to shoot her rifle and throw a knife. Determination to never be defenseless again had driven her to hone her skills with the rifle.
She was no longer the scared fifteen-year-old girl who had left Ohio eight years ago. She’d conquered most of her fears and was as confident in the woods as any of the Wilder men. Being among people, however, was a completely different matter.
“Fine. We can eat supper with them, but that’s all.” Josie raised her finger and pointed it in Harley’s face. “And no drinking.”
“That’s my girl.” Harley chuckled. “Let’s head to the tradin’ post ’n see what we can do about gettin’ our winter supplies. Moray ain’t gonna swindle me like he does with Nathaniel or Travis. I’m gonna get a fair deal on our pelts for once.”
After haggling with the trader for nearly an hour, Harley left the trading post with a satisfied smirk on his face. He led the way toward the wagons. A small part of Josie had been hoping that he would have changed his mind about meeting with Anthony Hammond again after his successful trading, but clearly, Harley hadn’t forgotten the invitation to supper.
A group of children were kicking around a tin can, yelling and laughing as she and Harley entered the wagon camp. Several older girls sat huddled around a fire and looked up at them with curious eyes. A few women busied themselves with laundry or fixing meals. All around, the aroma of beans and bread filled the air.
“Sure smells good ’round here,” Harley remarked. He patted his belly and smiled. If there was anything Harley loved more than his whiskey, it was good cooking. No wonder he hadn’t refused the supper invitation.
Anthony Hammond appeared from around one of the wagons, a wide smile on his face. He headed in their direction with an outstretched hand.
Josie’s eyes were on him as he approached. There was nothing intimidating about the man. He was genuinely friendly, and his blue eyes kept her gaze glued to him. He could even be considered quite handsome . . . to a woman who was looking.
“I’m so glad you could make it. Supper will be ready soon. My mother asked me to tend to the pot while she’s finishing some washing down by the creek. She’ll be along shortly.”
He swept his arm out in invitation to join him by one of the wagons. Several chairs had been set up near the fire, and there was even a small wooden table that was set for four.
“Would you care for some coffee?” Anthony pointed to the pot sitting in the fire, then he grabbed a nearby glove and began pouring the dark brew into tin cups.
Harley cleared his throat. Josie’s lips twitched in a suppressed giggle. More than likely the old mountain man would have preferred an offer of some whiskey.
“Coffee sounds good,” he grumbled and accepted the cup Hammond held out to him.
“Tell me, Hammond, why’re ya headin’ back east? Yer more’n halfway to Oregon at this point.”
Hammond’s smile faded slightly. “My mother and I have been here at Fort Hall for nearly a month.” He glanced around the camp and toward the other wagons. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “All of these folks are wanting to head back, too. They’re all widows. Their husbands died, and they see no point in moving forward.”
“Surely there’s men who’d wed up with ’em. Women die along the trail jes like men.”
Josie flinched at Harley’s matter-of-fact response. Hammond simply nodded.
“Some of them did find husbands, others would just rather go home to the families they left behind.”
“An’ yer ma?”
Hammond stared into his cup, letting the steam surround his face for a moment. “Pa died of dysentery shortly before we got to Fort Hall. It was always his idea to come west.”
Harley nodded. “What about you? Yer a strong, young fella. Ya could continue on with another outfit.”
Hammond shook his head. “My mother never wanted to come. She was always reluctant to come west. She said the west broke her heart once because she lost someone before. Now it’s happened again. She wants to head back to Ohio.”
Josie studied the man as he stared into the fire. He tried without much success to hide the grief in his eyes. Some part of her wanted to reach out to him and tell him that the pain would ease with time, but she remained rooted to the spot, gripping her rifle.
“So why’d ya come to me’n Josie?”
Hammond’s smile returned, but only half-heartedly. “My mother could use a female companion. I’m not much use with a gun, as I’ve said. I’ve been looking and waiting for the right person to come along. Someone I can trust to take my mother and all these families back to where they started so they can pick up their lives and move forward. So far, the only people willing to scout for us have been . . . less than what I would consider trustworthy.”
Harley nodded. So did Josie. It was easy to feel sympathy for these people. It wasn’t that long ago that she and her sisters had been in a similar predicament.
Swindlers were all too common along the trail. If her brother-in-law, Trevor was here, he’d be more than capable of taking these families east, but he was currently scouting for the army at Fort Laramie.
Josie’s heart slammed against her chest when she caught
Harley staring at her. There was no doubt what he was thinking. He was going to try and talk her into accepting Hammond’s offer. Even though she felt sorry for these people, she wasn’t equipped to guide them hundreds of miles through the wilderness.
“Yer more’n capable, Josie,” Harley said, as if he’d read her mind. “I think ya oughta reconsider.”
She shook her head. “You know I can’t,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You know why I can’t do this.”
Harley pulled her aside and gripped both her arms. “Can’t, or won’t. I thought I taught ya better than sayin’ ya can’t do somethin’. Ya only have to go as far as Fort Laramie. The army will escort ’em back the rest of the way, and Trevor can help, too. You’ll be among a bunch of women, not rowdy men.”
Josie stared at the ground. She couldn’t look Harley in the eye. She was disappointing him by running from her fears. She’d always confronted the challenges he’d set before her, but this time it was different. Her chest tightened and iced over.
“I’ll shoot ya fer it,” he said suddenly. “I win, ya have to go. If you win, I’ll say no more ’bout it.”
Josie’s head shot up. She scrunched her forehead. “I’m a better shot than you, Harley. You know I’ll win.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not this time.”
Was he giving her a way to save face? Josie nodded. “Fine. Set up your targets.”
Harley asked for some tin cans from Hammond and set them up on some logs outside the wagon camp. Several women and children followed them, murmuring excitedly. Harley took his position to take the first shot.
“Best of three wins,” he announced and sighted his first target.
“Anthony Hammond, what on earth is going on here?”
Josie’s head turned to look at the woman who came rushing toward them. Harley turned as well. His face – what wasn’t covered by his beard – turned white as a sheet, and he stared as if he’d seen a ghost. At the same time, three shots fired in quick succession from somewhere behind them, and all three cans went flying into the air.
Josie's Valor Page 2