by Rita Hestand
"No, he isn't." Cully braced himself for a battle with her now.
But none came.
"I guess being a wagon master is a pretty thankless job, isn't it?" She asked.
Cully stared, then a slow smile broke over his face, "Sometimes." And he walked off.
He could have kissed her for that. Damn, he wished he didn't like her so much. But after all, she was one of the mail-order-brides, and he wasn't in her plans!
Chapter Fourteen
A couple of days into the northern country, a band of Indians began to follow them. Cully watched them closely. They skirted the cliffs above the train, but they made no attempt to come closer. The weather was unusually hot, and Cully wiped the sweat from his brow. He would have to push the train to get them back on the trail to California. He almost looked forward to the day the other train took the Oregon trail. By going north, they would evade Independence Rock, and when they turned south they'd be at Ft. Hall quickly. This detour would set him back and he had to find a way to gain time. He glanced at the sky, and saw clouds building from the north. There would be a storm, he could almost smell it. They'd had rain a few times, and heat, but storms in this part of the country were deadly and very loud. It would scare the women, he was sure.
Abby saw the Indians and rode up to Cully's side, "Do you think they'll come into our camp?"
"I don't know. Right now, they just want to see where we are going. But I'll send Hobby out to talk to them if they come, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," Her eyes flashed with a smile. "I'm very confident of your ability to lead this train, Cully." She said and rode off.
He stared after her. Sometimes, the things she said went straight to his heart. He smiled to himself. She was quite a woman. Maybe if she wasn't a mail order bride….
They pushed on, even though Cully had Hobby scouted a place for cover. Hobby looked up into the sky. "Big storm coming."
"Yeah, I'd like to get the wagons in a safe place. If you spot one, let me know." Cully told him.
Hobby nodded, later he found a cove that would provide a little protection and told Cully.
That afternoon, the storm blew up, Cully had his hands full. The wind was so strong and the women in his train were having a time keeping the wagons going in such harsh winds. But not a one of them complained. Finally, one of Johnson's wagons fell over, and one of the children was hurt. Cully got the doc, and Johnny and Slim righted the wagon. They loaded it with extra baggage weighting it down for the time being. They were one of the few wagons that had unloaded a lot of their stuff beforehand. Cully was thankful for that.
The child's arm was broken, and the doc set it. "You'll be alright son," the doc told the boy. He gave his mother some pain medicine to give to him for the first day. The woman sat with her son, who was wanting to go out and see the storm with the men. "You stay right here young man." His mother insisted.
Cully smiled and shook his head, sounded like him when he was very young.
However, the storm wasn't over. The lightning was frightening, and some of the women became hysterical from the rolls of thunder and the strikes of lightning. They could hear the lightning striking in the distance, and it put a fear of God in them all. Cully could fight a lot of things, but the weather he figured was up to God.
There was a grove of trees and a big rock, that Hobby had found that would provide a bit of shelter for the wagons and Cully had them pull under them as the trees would not swallow the wagons but be far enough apart to give some room for breakage, and close enough to give a bit of cover.
They circled the wagons, and everyone gathered inside them for shelter except the men. The men donned rain gear and spent most the night riding around camp, making sure all was secure, and everyone was alright. The fact that the men did this, gave the train more confidence in their leader too. Even Johnson joined them.
Branches from the trees broke and gave some a scare, but they were far enough away that there was no damage to the wagons. One wall around them was rock and afforded a bit of relief from the pressing winds. The rain trashed against the canvas tops. Cully knew there would be some damage to the trains, but he hoped here it might not be as severe. He was right.
The storm lasted most of the night, and lanterns shown through the canvas long into the night.
The next morning, everyone gathered about to see the damage. On the two sides that the trees surrounded them, there were many long branches broken and lying about the ground. One wagon did sustain some damage, as a branch had fallen on the canvas and torn it. Johnny and Slim were there to help make repairs.
On the rock side it was clean and clear.
The men hurriedly cleared the path, so they could get out of there, while the women fixed breakfast and tended the children.
The clean smell of the rain lingered in the air. Birds began to chirp again, squirrels and rabbits scurried about.
As they moved on, they saw where lightning had struck in one place and made a small prairie fire.
When they camped again, the women hung their wet clothing out on a line from one wagon to another. They built extra fires to dry the clothes.
The Indians were back too, some of the train remarked.
"Don't be frightened," Cully warned them. "If they wanted our hide, they'd already have it."
However, the men did carry their rifles around with them now, just in case Cully was wrong about how friendly they were.
One day, not long after the storm, a small group of Cheyenne approached the train. They were dressed in headdresses and colorful clothing. One was unusually handsome and almost noble looking, with his straight nose and smooth, high cheekbones. The Cheyenne were a much more handsome bunch of Indians than most had ever seen.
Hobby rode out to them to talk. He talked a long while then after Hobby assured them they were not a sick train, the Indians followed him closer to the train.
Cully came out, nodded to them and then waited until Hobby reported to him.
"They want to know why you come this way. They want to smoke the peace pipe with you."
"Tell them much sickness along the Platte, and I'd be glad to smoke with them."
Cully eyed the chief closely, "What's his name?"
"Dull Knife, he is chief council to the Cheyenne and he is much respected by his tribe. He is more peaceful than most Indians you will meet."
"That's good to know." Cully smiled. "He's a better looking Indian than most too."
Hobby grinned.
Cully, and Hobby joined the chiefs in a circle on the top of a hill. There was a lot of talk and Hobby had to translate a lot, but Dull Knife did know some English.
"We have seen the disease," Dull Knife began, staring at Cully. "You are wise to stay away from it." Dull Knife told Cully. "We do not like so many wagon trains coming through our land. We do not like gold miners taking from the land. But the numbers of the white man are great and growing day by day. We have signed treaties they do not keep. Still we keep our word. We do not war like the Sioux."
Cully smiled, "We do not intend staying on your land, only passing through, we will head south soon and for California," Cully informed him.
Hobby translated, and chief Dull Knife listened with interest.
"You do not go the Oregon trail?" Dull Knife wanted to know.
"We won't, but my party is only fifty wagons, the others will go the Oregon trail." Cully explained.
"You hunt for the yellow gold?" Dull Knife asked.
"No sir, we have mail order wives for the men there." Cully tried to find a way to tell him.
Hobby translated, and the chief smiled. "It is good. Man does not need to be alone."
Cully nodded and smiled.
"We smoke pipe now, and you be on your way…" Dull Knife said with finality.
Cully nodded.
"They say if no one is with the sickness, you may pass, but you must go quickly."
"Tell them thank you, and we will." Cully nodded.
Hobby
told them, and the chief agreed. After they smoked and talk of minor things, Cully and Hobby rode off slowly.
"How much longer will we travel their land?" Hobby asked Cully.
"I figure about three days, then we'll turn south." Cully informed him. "I'm surprised they didn't come sooner."
"There was no need," Hobby chuckled, "They have had their eyes on us all along. They saw we did not cause trouble. It was the sickness that concerned them. They say the sickness is bad, they have seen it, and seen the graves along the trail where many have died this season. They moved back to the north themselves to avoid it. Two years ago, they lost many from this sickness. Dull Knife was the one I spoke with about this. He's a peaceful chief, and most listen to his council."
Cully hung his head. "It's one thing they never deserved from us."
"It is true." Hobby nodded. "I am glad you see that."
Cully eyed Hobby. Although Hobby was a good scout, his allegiance still lay with the Indians, but Cully figured that was good, as it gave him more knowledge about the Indian people.
***
Later that evening Abby brought Cully some chicken and dumplings. He was leaning against a wagon, with one foot propped on a wheel. He was drinking coffee and hadn't expected her to wait on him. He'd been enjoying the sunset and felt more relaxed than usual.
She was wearing a pretty dress, and with her long hair hanging low on her back. Her hair was so lovely, so shiny too. He wondered what it might be like to run his hands through it. He wondered if it smelled like lilacs. Then he sobered.
"Thanks, looks good. Did you make it?"
"Yes, I did." She smiled, her attention being drawn to the prairie now.
He tasted it. "It's good. You're going to make someone a fine wife, Abby."
The mention of her being a wife had her reacting a bit.
"That was quite a storm." She remarked, changing the subject to something safe.
"Yeah," He almost laughed. He knew he was attracted to her. He knew she was attracted to him. But he also knew she was off limits and he understood her withdrawal.
"What did the Indians want?" She asked curiously.
"To know how long we plan to travel on their land." He told her, staring at her as he ate. It was a pure pleasure to look at her.
"Are they upset?"
"The Indian will always be upset that we are here, the Cheyenne have been fairly peaceful for a while. They are one of the tribes that signed the '51 treaty. They've seen for themselves the sicknesses on the trains before us. They said there were many graves. Even though they signed the treaty, they want no part of us on their lands. That's not going to change. They are a prideful people and they want their lands untouched. Funny but they consider us the heathens."
Abby look saddened with this news. "Isn't it unusual to go north instead of west? I mean I know you had a reason, but it is strange."
"Yes, but we avoid the Sioux. And hopefully we avoid the Cholera. This trip has proven the necessity of staying clear of the main trail. You know, in a way, I understand Dull Knife. We bring destruction with us and he knows it."
"Oh," she looked down. "I never thought of us as being destructive, but I guess in their eyes we are."
"Their chief Dull Knife, said they had been there, seen the graves along the trail, there were many. So, they know why we came, they just wanted to know how long we'd be around here and if we carried that disease too. I figure they have a right to know. It has killed a lot of the Indians."
"I guess you are right. Do all wagon masters consider the Indians so?" She finally looked at him.
He looked off into the distance, "Maybe not all, but all wise ones do. We must. Out here, it's different. Either we get along with them, or we risk war with them. I've seen whole trains burned, heard of many white women being kidnapped. I'd rather get along. Besides, they were here first. The way I figure it, they have some rights, and we should respect that. Unlike white people, they don't usually tear the land up, dirty it up. Dull Knife is a good chief, he wants peace. But he also doesn't want to get pushed off his own land by greedy white people. And our government, like it or not, will put them on land that won't grow a fig. The buffalo are being slaughtered, and soon there will be none. The Indians know this. The Cheyenne seek peace. It is safer to travel around them than worry over the Sioux. The Sioux have been causing trouble all along the way. Part of it is not wanting us here, another part is the lies they've endured. They've been worried about so many trains coming west, settling the land for themselves and not moving on. It is their land, Abby and the truth, we're moving right on top of it and taking it away from them. Naturally, they will fight to keep it."
"I've never had much dealings with Indians. I mean, I guess I might have killed a few, who tried to steal from us, so I had never seen this side of them. Never even considered they had a side, I guess."
"I didn't expect you to. But, there are all kinds of Indians, just like there are all kinds of white men. Right now, the Cheyenne are peaceful even though I could see that Dull Knife would never last on a reservation, he does want peace for his people though. They want to relocate the Cheyenne to the south. They would die there, they are northern Cheyenne, and this is their country. The Sioux however, are not as understanding, they are upset that people have brought the white man's diseases to them. They have no immunity to the diseases we bring. They have never been exposed to such things. It kills many of their people. In fact, it kills more than the wars do."
She stared at him now. "I guess, I've never thought about them as having the same kind of problems as we have."
"They are people too, Abby." He smiled warmly. "I think that's what we tend forget. We've called them heathens for so long. Unlike us civilized people, they respect the land, and the animals on it. They kill only to eat, and they don't pollute the land like we do."
"Of course," she started to walk off. "And women, despite their sincere desire to be people too, listen to the gossip about these people. It's not something we know a lot about."
"Thanks for the dumplings, they were sure good." He smiled and came up to her to hand her his plate.
"Oh, yes, glad you liked them."
"Did the storm scare you?"
"No," she hastened to say, then smiled as she looked at him, "Yes, a little. The thunder it seems so loud here."
"Out here, there aren't as many trees on the prairie, and when it thunders, it is very loud. It's a strange land, here, some very beautiful. But also, just as dangerous." He told her. "The lightning is as bad or worse."
"I noticed." Her voice lowered. "I think we all did."
He touched her chin, lifting it, so she could stare into his eyes. "Don't worry, Abby, I won't let anything hurt you."
"You won't?" she whispered.
"I won't." he promised, his gaze met hers and they both stared for a long moment in complete silence.
She backed away from him, as the tension between them became almost visible.
"Thanks…" she whispered.
He smiled, "None needed, I will protect all of you to the best of my ability."
Knowing he was not singling her out, she nodded, but a tear lodged in one eye.
He saw it.
He'd pushed her away with his words, and he knew it. Still, it was for her own good. She had a goal and she should stick to it. He didn't need to get involved, but it sure was upsetting seeing that tear in her eye. He remembered what Dull Knife said, "man needs woman." Cully had never thought about it, until now. Maybe he was right.
Chapter Fifteen
Another baby was born right after the storm, but Cully managed to keep the wagons rolling. He had no choice. He had to get to Ft. Hall soon.
The woman had seven kids already and all boys. This baby was a girl and pleased both her and her husband.
The Indians followed them for miles and finally when Cully turned south, they gave it up and went to their own lands. They seemed satisfied that he kept his word.
They were only one
day's ride from Ft. Hall when danger stepped into their paths again.
They had camped for the night and the women were busy preparing supper.
Abby was pulling some wash off a line she'd rigged between two young Ponderosa Pines. She didn't hear the snake, but Cully happened to round the wagon just in time to see it going straight for her. She was oblivious to the danger.
In a rush, he ran, grabbed her around the waist and rolled her away from the snake, as he held her tight.
"What in the w…" she began, as he looked down into her brown, expressive eyes.
A flash of an angry frown stared up at him, but that faded as he realized how close they were to the danger, how soft she was beneath him.
Then suddenly the snake hissed.
With a piece of a branch only inches away, he struck out at the snake and killed him, beating him many times against a rock, and into the hard and dusty ground. Then he turned his attention to the woman in his arms, the soft, sweet, beautiful woman. She could easily have been killed, and the thought sent a cold chill through him.
She'd finally seen the snake and her eyes were huge, and so damned beautiful he couldn't take his gaze from her if he wanted to.
She looked at him and he was lost in those oh so brown eyes.
He felt her suddenly tremble, but the urge to protect and defend had been so great he forgot to keep his distance and he lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. He only meant to feather touch her lips, so as not to startle, but that was impossible when her lips moved slowly against his.
In a state of pure shock, she seemed to allow the kiss to deepen for a moment, as his lips took on a sweetness that melted the tension that always followed them. He raised his head for a moment, saw the surrender in her eyes, and dipped to kiss the corner of her mouth. She didn't object, in fact he saw her eyes soften on him. She was such a temptation.
He had to let her go, but he'd treasure the moment.
"You didn't hear the snake, did you?" He asked huskily as he got to his feet, bringing her with him.