by Kit Morgan
“I’m afraid not.” Honoria felt her stomach twist. If only the boys would get along. Jack and Sam probably didn’t want to be around Duncan, Colin and Harrison anymore than they had to.
“Tarnation!” Jefferson sat on a nearby rock. “Well, if they’re not back by the time we finish, you three boys can have their portions.”
“Jefferson, isn’t that a little harsh?”
“No.” He stabbed at his potatoes.
Harrison’s eyes gravitated to the pan of eggs. “How long have they been gone, you say?”
“Harrison,” Duncan warned, but smiling. “Wait until we’re all finished.”
Harrison smiled back.
Honoria sighed. “Oh dear me.”
Jefferson turned to her. “Why aren’t you eating?”
She glanced at the pans of food balanced on rocks around the campfire. “Jack and Sam …”
“Can fend for themselves,” he said.
“But where could they be?”
“Look, honey, if those two aren’t smart enough to show up for a meal, then they suffer the consequences. I gave them a simple job to do and they …” He stopped, and Honoria saw his jaw tighten. “… they have to learn it’s unwise to slack off during a journey like this.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to start off their marriage with an argument, especially not one about his sons. They were a family now, and blending the two sides wasn’t going to be easy. She thought about it going into this, knew this was coming. She just wasn’t sure in what form it would arrive.
Honoria dished herself up a plate and sat next to Jefferson. She ate in silence, her eyes darting between the wagons for any sign of Jefferson’s sons. There was none.
“Let’s have another hand,” Pete shuffled the cards. “Ya boys in?”
Sam exchanged a quick look with Jack. “Yeah, deal us in.”
Jack leaned toward him. “Ya sure about that? Shouldn’t we be getting’ back?”
“Why? I’m winnin’.”
Pete eyed the pair and smiled. “That ya are, son – ‘bout wiped me out. Yer quite the gambler, ain’t he, boys?”
“Sure ‘nough is,” Mattson said. He elbowed the man next to him.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sharp little fella.”
“I ain’t little,” Sam spat.
Mattson chuckled. “He don’t mean nothin’ by it. He’s just upset yer winnin’.”
“Well, I can’t help it if I’m better at cards,” Sam boasted.
Pete smiled. “That ya are. And ‘cause yer so good, what say we raise the stakes, eh?”
“Sure,” Sam said. “To what?”
“Well now, how ‘bout that mare yer new brother was ridin’ today? She’s a mighty fine lookin’ horse.”
Sam froze.
“Don’t do it, Sam,” Jack said. “That horse ain’t ours to bet with.”
“Sure it is,” Pete said. “Yer all one big happy family now. What’s theirs is yers, yaknowhatImean?”
Jack frowned. “Does that mean what’s ours is theirs?”
Pete rolled his eyes. “Ain’t that what I just said?”
“I’ll do it,” Sam blurted.
“But Sam!” Jack protested. “What if you lose?”
“So what if I do? Ain’t my horse.”
“But he just said …”
“Shut up, Jack.”
Jack glared at him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Pa’s gonna be mad as a rattler.”
“Only if he finds out. Now deal them cards.”
“Yer the boss.” Pete smiled and began to deal.
“Well, here you are,” someone grumbled behind them. Someone with a fancy English accent.
“Oh no,” Sam groaned. “It’s one of them.”
Duncan stepped out from between two wagons. “You missed dinner.”
“So what?” Sam reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of jerky and bit off a healthy chunk. He chewed and eyed Duncan. “What are you doing here?”
“Actually, I was heading out of camp to have a private conversation with my brother,” Duncan announced as Colin stepped out from the shadows. “But then I heard the most interesting thing just now.”
“And what might that be?” Mattson asked.
Duncan stepped closer. “I thought I heard Sam betting my mother’s horse in a game of …” He looked at the cards. “… poker?”
“Funny, I thought I heard that too,” Colin said.
Pete’s eyes skipped between them. “Care to join us?”
“Certainly not,” Colin tossed his head at Duncan. “He has an appointment to beat the tar out of me.”
“Yes, and I always keep my appointments,” Duncan added. “Now, about my mother’s horse. Don’t go betting something that doesn’t belong to you or you’ll pay the price.”
Sam stood. “Really?” he sneered, looking Duncan up and down. “And what price would that be?”
Duncan smiled, then punched him square in the nose.
Sam reeled back, landing fanny first in the dirt. “Ow!”
Jack burst out laughing. So did Colin, until Duncan glared at him and said, “You and I will have a similar conversation if we have to.”
Colin immediately stopped. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’m more than happy to discuss things with you.”
“Very well,” Duncan said. “Let’s go.”
“Hey!” Sam exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You can’t hit me like that!”
Duncan casually turned around. “I just did.”
Sam launched himself at him, but Colin intercepted, blocking his path. “Not today – I’m next!”
Sam backed off, blinking in confusion. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m the next in line for a bit of fisticuffs. Now if you’ll excuse us, my brother has to beat me up.”
Sam and Jack exchanged the same look of confusion. Pete and Mattson, on the other hand, looked thoroughly amused. “Yer the queerest bunch of foreigners I ever seen!” Pete laughed. He took one look at Sam and laughed some more.
Sam put a hand to his nose, saw the blood and yelped in surprise.
“Wow, Sam, you’re bleeding,” Jack commented.
Sam snarled. “Just wait until our Pa hears about this!”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “I look forward to it. And Mother’s mare is off the table.” He grabbed Colin by the jacket, pulled him into the shadows and out of sight. They could hear Sam continue his tirade over the older men’s laughter.
“He’s really mad,” Colin said as they walked.
“Too bad. I’m sure their father will be interested to find out they’ve been gambling.”
“From whom, us? Would he believe it?”
“Only one way to find out,” Duncan said as they left the wagon train and headed for the stream. Duncan snatched up the bucket he’d left nearby and handed it to Colin. “Let’s fetch Mother’s water.”
“What, you mean you’re not going to pulverize me?”
“Not right now. But I should.” Duncan stopped, spinning on his brother so fast that Colin ran into him.
“Oof!”
“Don’t ever worry Mother like that again,” Duncan said, his face an inch from Colin’s. “She was beside herself. She’s got enough to deal with right now.”
Colin hung his head. “I’m sorry, but I just had to …”
“Look for my jacket? I don’t believe you.”
Colin chewed on his lower lip. “I … left Mr. Greenly with a parting gift.”
Duncan’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Colin, what did you do? Nothing where someone gets hurt, I hope.”
“Of course not. Just wonderfully irritated.”
Duncan turned, his jaw set, and made a fist.
Colin’s hands went up. “It’s nothing! Just an old branch that scratches against the storeroom window every time he opens the door!”
Duncan’s eyes widened. “What?”
Colin shrugged. “I thought it … rather clever myself.”
D
uncan’s hand relaxed. “Colin, when are you going to stop these silly jokes? You’re not a child.”
Colin stuck his hands in his pockets. “No, I’m not, but … I need to laugh. I need to make this horrible empty hole Father left behind go away.”
Duncan sighed, put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked at the darkening sky. “We all do, brother. You’re not the only one with a gaping hole.”
Colin shrugged again. “Sometimes I feel mine’s bigger than everyone else’s. Am I wrong, then?”
“We all miss Father. We will for a long time. But you can’t keep playing jokes on people and expect them to understand. Play one on the wrong person and you’re liable to get yourself shot. Especially out here.”
Colin glanced toward camp. “What about Jack and Sam? They’re not happy with you right now.”
“That was no joke – they were about to gamble Mother’s horse away. And I have a feeling they’ll never be happy with me – or you, for that matter. But we’ll deal with them later. Right now I want you to promise me something.”
“Oh, here we go,” Colin sighed.
“No more jokes. Especially not now. Mother is having a difficult enough time.”
“Do you think they’ll fall in love?”
Duncan shook his head and sighed. “I haven’t any bloody idea. I hope so.”
“Does it bother you?”
“That she’ll love another man? A little. But she deserves to love again and be loved in return.”
“Will he? Jefferson seems a hard sort at times. Maybe he doesn’t care if he falls in love with her or not.”
“Let’s hope he does. For her sake.”
Colin looked toward the stream. “We’d best fetch her water. She’s probably used up the first round for the dishes.”
“We need to make her life easier, brother,” Duncan said. “The less she has to worry about, the easier it will be for her and Jefferson to … get better acquainted.”
Colin nodded. “Right. You’ll tell Harrison too?”
“Of course.” Duncan turned to the stream. “Now let’s go.”
They fetched the water, returned to camp and found Sam and Jack sitting next to the fire, looking chastened and sullen. Duncan smiled and went to look for his mother. He found her inside the wagon, rearranging things. “We brought the water.” He glanced past the wagon to their fire. “When did they return?”
His mother wiped her hands on her skirt. “Only a few minutes ago. Jefferson said he came across them on his way to speak with Mr. Mulligan.”
“Oh? Where have they been?” he asked innocently.
“I don’t know. Jefferson didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. But it looks like they were in a fight – Sam had a bloody nose.”
Duncan leaned against the back of the wagon and watched her in the soft lantern light. His mother was a beautiful woman and looked younger than her thirty-eight years. English born and bred, she had a quiet elegance that people admired. Jefferson Cooke was a lucky man. Duncan just hoped he came to realize it sooner rather than later.
He scanned their surroundings. Tonight was the first of many they’d be living like this – not just the journey west, but after their arrival. Wherever they arrived, they’d have to build a place quickly before winter set in. “Mother?”
“Yes, darling?” She hung the coffee pot on a hook.
“Do you think Sam and Jack have been in trouble before?”
She stopped and looked at him. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know … a hunch.”
“Jefferson hasn’t mentioned … well, anything specific. Only that they’ve …”
“Enough said,” he cut in. “I don’t want them causing you any.”
“Oh, darling.” She made her way to him. “I don’t foresee them causing any for me.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced toward the fire again. This time, Sam and Jack weren’t there. “I think I’ll take a stroll. Good night, Mother.”
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Good night, Duncan. Make sure Harrison has his bedroll out. Sleep well, my darling.”
“You too.” He turned, determination on his face, and went in search of Jack and Sam. If he didn’t set them straight now, this would be a long journey indeed.
Chapter Nine
My dearest Benedict,
Several weeks have passed since our departure from Independence. The days are long but filled with activity. I find I can ride only so long in the wagon, then have to stretch my aching limbs. Harrison often walks with me. Jefferson has given him several driving lessons, much to my chagrin. I know he’s probably old enough and oxen aren’t prone to stampeding off a cliff, but I worry about my baby.
My favorite part of the day is early morning. There’s something about living outdoors, the freshness of the day, a cup of hot coffee and the slow steady warming of the sun. The boys enjoy it too.
Speaking of the boys, they’re quiet of late, as are Jack and Sam. They appear to be getting along, but don’t talk to each other unless they have to. I hope that one day they will become friends, if not brothers. But who I am to talk? I’m not even truly a wife yet …
Honoria set her pen down. She’d found a nice flat rock to sit on and write, which she hadn’t been able to do since they left. Jefferson didn’t know she kept a diary. Should she tell him, or keep it to herself for now? What if he found it one day while rummaging through the wagon, read it and saw that she still wrote to her dead husband? What would he think of her then?
Not that he thought much about her now.
She closed the book, put it, her pen and ink back into their satchel and watched the sun climb in the sky. It was time she cleaned things up and prepared to leave. But the writing helped her sort things out. And right now, she was puzzled over Jefferson’s lack of attention. He seemed to avoid her the last few days, especially at night – why?
And why hadn’t they had marital relations? Did he not find her attractive? Perhaps he was afraid he’d get her with child – that could be it. Not that she was in a rush – she just didn’t want this to be the norm. She was getting to know him slowly but surely, and he her. The question was, did he like who she was? Good heavens, did he regret marrying her?
“Here you are.”
She smiled and looked at her husband. From her perch on the rock, they were practically at eye level. “Enjoying a moment, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I was doing the same over there.” He pointed.
She looked at the wagons. “Did you have enough to eat?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes fixed on her. He stepped closer. “You look happy.”
“I do?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Are you?”
“Happy?” He shrugged. “I suppose. The weather’s holding – we can’t ask for much better than that. Except that none of us gets a bellyache that Doc Waller can’t cure.”
She smiled weakly. He didn’t know what she was really asking. If she wanted an answer, she would have to ask the real question.
“The boys are packing things up. You can sit here for a spell if you want,” he said.
She smiled again. “Thank you. That’s most considerate of you.”
He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “I thought you might like a minute or two alone. I notice you look for them.”
She stared at him a moment. “You do?”
“Of course. I watch everything you do.”
She blushed. “Why, Jefferson Cooke, I had no idea.”
He smiled at her. “I like watching you.”
Her blush deepened. “I … watch you too, now and then.”
He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat again. “Well, I guess …” Then without warning, he leaned toward her and kissed her!
Honoria’s eyes widened before his arms came around her and he broke the kiss. She stared at him, not knowing what to do or say.
For a moment she felt as if this was her first kiss – awkward, shy but still thrilling.
“Honoria honey, I … I’ve been wanting to do that for quite a spell.” He reached up and brushed another wisp of her brown hair aside. “But I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”
She took his hand, lowered it and smiled. “You’re my husband, you have every right.”
“I know that. But I wanted you to … want me.” He gazed into her dark eyes with an openness she’d never seen before.
She swallowed and squeezed his hand. “Your kiss was … nice.”
Jefferson’s smile was lopsided. “Nice? Can I try for stupendous?”
She laughed, then quickly stilled as he lifted one hand to cup her face. He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers. A familiar tingle went up her spine, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Desire? He kissed her again, harder this time, as his arms tightened around her. Yes, definitely desire. But a part of her was afraid of that. It wanted to hide instead. But why? She was married to him, after all, and he had every right to kiss her. Why not enjoy it?
But as quickly as her desire came, it vanished. She pulled away with a shaky breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked concerned.
“Yes, of course. It’s just that … someone will see.”
He chuckled. “We’re married. It don’t matter if they do.”
“No, I suppose not.” She looked at him. “But it’s time to leave.”
Jefferson nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” He watched her a moment, as if deciding whether to kiss her again. She’d let him, of course … but would she like it or want to push him away again? What was wrong exactly? She was getting to know him – isn’t that what she wanted? “I’ll get Harrison,” he finally said. “Have him help me hitch up the team.”
She nodded and hugged her satchel.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She looked at it. Could her answer be any worse? She shrugged. “Actually, something can’t be nothing, now can it?”
“That would be a good trick.”
She forced a smile. “It’s my diary, pen and ink. I’ve not written in it for a time.”
“Oh?” he said with another lopsided smile. “I used to keep one myself years ago.”