The party went along single file down the dry creek’s ridge until nearing the top of Prospect Hill. At the most level ground, she heard Lucky’s signal to stop for noon. She hurried to catch up to the wagon, so the Warrens need not look for her. Busy getting the cold lunch, she didn’t bother to try and chat with her husband or his sister.
Charles broke the silence between them first. “Darling, I may have spoken too roughly yesterday. Since then, you’ve been doing well with being near when we need you and out of the way when we don’t.” He smiled at her, leaning in to kiss Marie on the forehead. “Thank you.”
Smiling from the appreciation, she responded, “You’re welcome. I wasn’t aware I’d been such a bother and plan to do better in the future.”
He gave her a warm look. “I’m glad. Granville said the next couple of days would be rough. The water might continue to be either bad or poisonous, meaning scarce grass for the stock and not much fuel for mealtimes. We’ll want extra biscuits and bacon cooked, too.”
A rider galloping up to them stayed her reply. She saw Samuel approach and swing off his horse.
Before either Warren could greet him, he said, “Warren, we’ll need your help. Another family’s wagon lost control, and the wheels rolled over someone and one of their animals.”
“I’m not a doctor. I don’t know how you expect me to help,” Charles retorted.
“You’re able-bodied and have a good shovel. That’s all the help we need to dig a grave for the poor soul.” Tipping his hat to her, he said, “Ma’am, a pleasure to see you,” and got on his horse. “It’s ahead a mile or so.”
The gray of Samuel’s face bothered her so she asked, “Is it one of ours?” When he nodded, she understood his demeanor and asked in a quiet tone, “Who?”
He pursed his lips together as if unwilling to say aloud before answering, “Jimmy.”
Chapter 3
Sam crawled into his bedroll in what seemed like days past sunset. The stricken expressions on everyone’s face as he’d spread the news of Jimmy Marshall’s accident kept him awake. He tried to shake off the sorrow, knowing many other children died along the trail, too. From helping bury the child to staying the night at a waterless campsite, the day had been one of the worst he’d experienced in a long time.
He tried to get comfortable on the rocky ground. Restless, he squirmed to lie face up again to stare at the star filled sky. The fire nearby had burned down to embers long ago. Sam let his gaze follow his favorite constellations for this time of year. He adored Marie. She’d comforted Mrs. Marshall and the smaller children while him and the other men did the somber tasks. Mr. Warren’s back gave out at around five strikes of his shovel against the near bedrock ground. Just as well, Sam thought while smiling a little. They’d really only needed his shovel. His men could handle everything else.
He woke with a start to the sound of Lucky’s bugle. While regaining consciousness, Sam saw the sun midway to noon. He groaned at the time. Heavy low clouds hung overhead and spread to the west, darkening the morning. He got out of bed, intending to follow his nose downwind toward the heavenly aroma of boiling coffee. The nearest water had to be at least five miles away, though. Either the wind was stronger than he’d thought, or someone had made a ten mile round trip without waking anyone else. He frowned at the idea; his men knew better than to let the crew sleep much past daybreak. As he passed various campsites, Sam noticed nearly everyone in camp had overslept. He approached the Warrens and grinned. All of his hands and a few others sat around their fire, enjoying the strong brew Marie had made.
Walking up to them, he chided, “Here’s all my help, sitting around like it’s Sunday church.”
Mr. Lucky, seated a little too close to Jenny, spoke up first, “Yes, sir. If you had ever tasted Mrs. Warren’s coffee, you’d be sitting here with us. It’s the best in camp.”
Marie shrugged, her face flushed from Mr. Lucky’s compliment. “I let the dirt in the water jug settle to the bottom overnight. I’m sure that’s the only difference.”
Frowning, Sam asked, “You’ve been carrying water stores up Prospect Hill?”
“Not stores so much as a large jar for emergencies like this.” She held up the empty glass. “You can’t be angry at the weight; it’s empty now.”
Sam grinned at her smile, unable to be irritated with her. “Would you have an extra cup for me?”
“Of course, I would. There’s a little more coffee left, but no cups. Let me wash mine out for you.” She stood to do just that when he held up his hand.
“I can’t take the coffee away from a lady. My cup is sitting idle back at the wagon. Let me get it and rejoin everyone.” He walkedaway before she began to argue.
He hurried back, seeing Mr. Lucky entertaining the group with his next tall tale. Jenny hung on his every word a little more than everyone else. Next to Marie, Sam asked, “Ma’am, may I have some of your superior coffee?”
She laughed and poured him a cup. “Superior? I’m hoping you find it tasty at least.”
He breathed in. “Hmmm, smells good so far.” After a sip which turned into a longer drink, he said, “I was going to order us rolling on after this cup, but I might wait until I’ve had two. This is good.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Marie poured herself a little and stood, giving more to those who held up their cups. She placed the coffee pot back over the embers.
While listening to Lucky, Sam looked up at her still standing. “Mrs. Warren?” Catching Marie’s attention, he patted the ground next to him. “Have a seat, please.”
She smiled. “I think I will. At least, until you need your second cup.”
Shaking his head, Sam said, “As much as I love your coffee, I’ll have to pass today. We need to get rounded up and going.”
“I agree.” After a nod to the horizon, she added, “It’s later than we usually head, out and everyone is already very slothful. Everyone except Mr. Lucky, that is.”
He grinned before taking a deep drink. “Chuck and Larry aren’t too bad, but Uncle Joe is a slow starter. He’s really best at night watch. I can count on him to never fall asleep while on duty.”
“That’s good.” When Lucky jumped to his feet, Marie told Sam, “I’d figured Mr. Lucky to be the best night guard, considering his energy.”
Sam chuckled at her observation. “Not at night since he’s worn himself out during the day.”
Bristling with nervous energy, Lucky asked, “We’re about ready to go, aren’t we, boss?”
“Yes,” Sam replied and added, “as soon as I see the bottom of my coffee.”
“Great, I’ll get started.” The young man nodded at Marie. “Ma’am,” he said and strode off in a hurry.
Sam looked around the camp, frowning, and asked her, “Should we have saved some back for the other Warrens?”
Marie drank the last few drops before replying, “It’s no matter. Hester might have minded none left, wanting the excuse to be here with you.” She stopped, face flushed. “I mean, she enjoys talking about you. In a kind way, of course.”
He struggled to keep a neutral expression at the thought of Hester showing interest in him. Not saying anything for a moment, Sam instead finished up his coffee. “I see.”
She smiled at him, “Don’t feel too cornered. Every unmarried woman in camp feels the same way about you as she does.”
Feeling a little less uncomfortable, he stood and held out his hand to help up Marie. “I’m not surprised, ma’am. The Granville charm is very powerful on the fair sex.”
Seeing the Warrens approaching camp, she chided Samuel in a quiet voice, “I’d have to see this so-called charm before believing you.”
“I thought my appeal was blatantly obvious, yet, you don’t see? Your harsh words hurt my heart, Mrs. Warren.” He stood, addressing a sleepy Uncle Joe and quiet Arnold, saying, “All right ladies, coffee time is over. We need to start rolling if we’re to make Independence Rock by noon.”
As
everyone hurried through their last chores before leaving, the campsite buzzed with activity. Sam helped those lagging behind tend their animals and get moving. Once every wagon wheel turned, no matter how slow, he could relax and keep an eye out for Marie. He smiled when thinking of how she might enjoy Sweetwater River’s somewhat flat riverbed. Walking, at a decline or incline both, was tough on people and animals.
He spotted her near the Warren’s wagon, inching its way down the long hill. She’d been keeping close to her family lately, not on her usual explorations of whatever caught her eye. Sam didn’t know why she’d neglected her curiosity in the week or so before yesterday. Today, though, he understood and shared her somber mood. She’d been fond of Jimmy, taking it on herself to fill some of the gaps his own mother was too sickly to fill for him. It was going to take her and a lot of others time to get over the boy’s death.
Arnold stayed with Sam. Both men rode at the back and to the left of the group. Greenhorns rode behind just once before they learned to avoid the choking dust. He smiled. Arnold thought he knew everything right up until he needed help out of a mess. Still, the youngster had not made the same mistake twice in anything. Sam thought he’d made a fine hand in the past couple of weeks.
Independence Rock loomed ever closer as the morning passed into afternoon. Everything took extra time in a group, whether fixing a broken wheel or stopping at a clear spring for a drink. If alone, he’d just gallop over. Instead, he forced himself to be patient.
Arnold looked at him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Sam answered by saying, “When we get to Sweetwater. Joe and Lucky already know.” Hearing an exasperated sigh from the young man, he agreed with the frustration. They’d spent today on a vast barren plain. Low mountains lay all around them and seemed to recede as they approached, teasing the impatient travelers. After inching past Black Rock, Independence Rock grew larger every few miles.
His stomach growled in protest as they brought up the rear to the new camp. Many others also rested in the area, the cooking smells thick in the air. He’d be happy with a biscuit and hunk of ham at the moment. Settling everyone into place came first, and second? A duty he owed himself and his brother.
He rode past each family to ensure their welfare. Several others helped the Marshals set up, and Marie was among them. She gave him a slight smile and nod as he passed, and Sam tipped his hat in return. He dismounted at the Granville wagon when seeing Uncle Joe there. “How is everything? Under your control?”
“Yes, sir.” The elder man grinned at him. “The boys are out helping others with the livestock while I unload for tonight.”
“Very well, good job.” Sam didn’t need to glance at the sun to know he had plenty of time. This next task was one of his favorites on the trail. He unsaddled and staked out Scamp near some grazing before turning to Independence Rock. A chunk of granite seeming so small at a distance grew into a monolith up close. Grinning, he went to the far side, to the familiar climbing spot and dug in to ascend. When separated by circumstance, he and his brother Nick used this piece of the monument to communicate. He laughed when seeing Nick’s last message to him ending with Nick and Beth Granville. Rather arrogant for him to assume Beth would accept his proposal, Sam thought, and yet, she had.
He cut in his name and the date below his brother’s. Satisfied with his carving skills, Sam climbed higher to sit at the top. The view stretched in all directions. The mountain ridge to the south, he chuckled at calling them mountains, finally seemed large. The chilly wind blew more up here, making him glad for the warm day. The first time he and Nick had the idea to conquer this rock, a gust sent them tumbling. His blood still ran cold when remembering the loss of control he’d felt right then. In every climb since then, both men crept close to the surface.
Looking west, he shook his head when thinking of how he’d not planned to ever be here again. Yet, when Anne ended their engagement, the trail called to him. Sam wanted the isolation while the wheels rolled. He wanted to meet people, wanted to get out of his own mind. No sense in wondering what he could have done differently. She’d been unfaithful to him early last year and had a new child and new marriage as a result.
The heartache eased the further he went from Oregon. He’d expected it to return as he inched closer to the territory. But it hadn’t, and he knew why. Examining those on the ground, he sought out Marie. The people seemed so small from this point of view. Any number of wagons, people, or even trees by the riverbank might be hiding her. He did see a few of his men. None of them seemed in a hurry or busy, so chores must be done for a while.
Sam leaned back on his elbows, legs stretched in front of him. He had time before dinner to daydream about Marie and smiled. She seemed to be a sponge, absorbing the ages of the company she kept. He enjoyed visiting her when she spent time with Jenny and Ellen, or Jimmy, but not so much with Charles and Hester. She always had a ready smile for Sam, and her eyes sparkled more when he saw her with the youngsters.
He knew the pain of being betrayed and wouldn’t wish it on any other man. Yet, he couldn’t help but want to spend more time with her during the day. She had an open friendliness to everyone, not just him. He liked her demeanor, but wanted more from Marie and disliked the needy feeling. Sam sighed and lay down upon the rock full length, putting his hands under his head as a pillow. She’d been kind enough before asking him to kiss her at the saloon. He thought her lovely, charming, and a client to get from one town to another in the next few months. Until Fort Laramie.
Closing his eyes, he still saw her beauty that evening in the lamp’s glow. Every campfire he’d seen her at since reminded him of how close he’d been to kissing her. He’d watch her from his peripheral vision, not wanting to stare. She’d glance at him, but not often enough for him to think her request for a kiss had been more than what she’d claimed. A quick experiment? He shook his head. Not for him, he’d be like a baby with candy. One taste and he’d be gone.
“Oh! This is lovely. Very much worth the effort. Good job, Mr. Granville.”
Sam sat up as if poked in the back by an arrow. “Marie?” He turned to see her behind him, inching her way to where he sat. “What the hell are you doing up here?”
“Making biscuits. What does it look like I’m doing? I’m enjoying the view just as you are.” Next to him, she sat and took in the surrounding countryside. “The girls said I was crazy to try. I think they're out of their mind for not.”
Her sunbonnet hung down her back, her fingers rough from the rock. He took a hand of hers in his, examining for cut marks. “You’re lucky you didn’t fall. Getting up here is tough enough in trousers; I can’t imagine climbing up in a skirt.”
“It wasn’t easy, no.” She gave him her other hand to examine with a grin. “Trying to be modest and not get tangled up in several yards of fabric did add to the difficulty.” As he traced her scratched palm with his fingertips, she said, “I’m not bleeding, so no harm was done.”
Grinning, he looked up from her hand. “Have you given any thought to getting back down with modesty and body intact?”
She frowned. “No, and I should have. I might have to wait until nightfall and feel my way down.”
The idea of her doing such a thing in pitch black terrified him for her safety. “No, I’ll help you and need to apologize for my language just now.” The faint beginning of freckles on her nose distracted him for a moment. She returned his smile until he added, “You’re the last person I wanted up here.”
Her smile faded. “Oh. Very well, I can understand you’d like some time alone. Everyone needs quiet time, especially in a group like ours. Plus, you’re responsible for everyone and with Jimmy yesterday…” Her eyes grew watery. “I’m feeling the need to be alone, too, all of a sudden.” She stood, a little wobbly from a gust of wind. “I might be back for help in getting down, if or when you’re ready.”
He got to his knees, reaching out a hand to her. “I’d prefer my alone time to be with you if you don’t mind, ma’am.�
�� She held on to him when another gust threatened to topple her. “See? You’re being told to stay put until the winds die down a bit.”
With a frown, Marie sat next to him. “It seems so.” She straightened her skirt, adding, “I appreciate you allowing me to interrupt your solitude until it’s safer for me to leave.”
Sam nodded, his glib charm failing him all of a sudden. Alone with her, but in plain sight of everyone else, he could say anything to her. Maybe do nothing, but no one would hear him speaking from his heart. “I might have been abrupt in saying you’d be last on my mind. It’s truer that you’re the first person I’d want up here with me.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. Had she thought of him as much as he did her? Or had he stopped being on her mind after a while? The part of Sam wanting her warred with the part knowing to leave her alone. He smirked, contemplating the ribbing he’d get from Nick at this, now that Sam had fallen for a married woman himself. Their mother would beat both of her boys if she knew and they’d deserve it.
“You're overly kind, sir. At any rate, I’m glad you’re not angry I’m here,” she said.
“How could I be, ma’am? I’m up here on a beautiful day with a lovely lady. Chores are done until dinner, and afterward is washing up in a clear river.”
After a pause, she said in a quiet voice, “Now that no one else can overhear, I’d like to speak to you frankly about my ill-conceived request at the fort.”
“There’s no need if you choose not to.”
“That’s kind of you to want to protect my reputation, kinder than I deserve. I just wanted to apologize for putting you in an awkward position.”
Sam took in a deep breath. “No need to. I hope you figure out why I had to refuse.”
“I do, yes.” She looked to the south at the mountains. “If not angry and desperate, I’d never have asked and still feel ashamed for doing so.”
Undesirable Page 7
