Undesirable

by Laura Stapleton

  Sam caught the scowl Charles gave her. Not wanting to cause trouble between the Warrens, he grinned and pulled a couple of more flowers from the larger bouquet. He gave the blossoms to Hester. “I might do that if Mrs. Warren doesn’t want any for herself. If doing so is acceptable to you, sir.”

  The comment seemed to surprise Warren. “Of course, it is.”

  “Good luck, Mr. Granville. If you can’t find her, I’ll be glad to take all the flowers.”

  He gave her a smile he didn’t feel. “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.” He tipped his hat, needing to get away from the simpering woman. Scanning the area, Sam saw Marie walking upwind from the group and away from the dust. She wasn’t too far from the wagon, so he and the horse trotted over to her. Dismounting as he neared, Sam, said, “Hello, Mrs. Warren.”

  “Hello again, Mr. Granville.” She nodded at his flowers. “Don’t tell me those are for Hester.”

  He held out the gift. “They’re not. She has more than enough. I gave every other lady their bouquet, and I didn’t want to discard these.”

  She took the flowers and smiled, burying her face in the fragrance. “Thank you, I think, for the leftovers.”

  “These aren’t left…” he began and caught himself. His plan to keep this unobjectionable worked too well. She began strolling in the wagons’ direction, a slight smile on her face. Sam fell into step beside her. As they walked along, Sam checked to see how close anyone else might be. Satisfied they were out of earshot, he cleared his throat.

  “That sounds like the beginning of something important.” She smiled at him and went back to admiring her flowers.

  “It might be.” He paused before saying, “Yes, these are what’s left. They’re what I made sure I had saved just for you.”

  Marie glanced over at him. “Just for me?”

  He stared ahead after seeing her face. Her pleased expression made his heart beat hard in his chest. “Yes. I wanted you to have a bigger bouquet than Hester.”

  “I don’t think this is, though.”

  Hearing the amusement in her voice, he grinned. “It’s not, despite what I’d planned. Some of the littler girls wanted flowers too. I might have given them more than expected.”

  She stared at her blossoms for a while before saying, “I love these. They’re beautiful and perfect.” Without looking at him, Marie asked, “You saw through my fib, didn’t you? About how I love flowers, I mean?”

  “Afraid so, Mrs. Warren.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “You might be getting to know me too well, Mr. Granville.”

  “I agree.” They neared the others, and he wanted to say more before rejoining the group. “I could compare every other woman’s beauty to the flowers I gave them. But I can’t say the same to you.”

  “Oh? I’m not sure how to feel about that.” She picked a crumpled blossom from the middle. “You couldn’t compare me to even the most windblown of them?”

  He shook his head. “You are lovely beyond any words I can use without a well-deserved beating from Mr. Warren.”

  Marie laughed. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  Her beautiful face turned up to him, the wind blowing around dark hair loosened from her bun. Marie’s dark eyes sparkling with amusement, Sam forgot himself, losing any amount of self-control as desire raced along his nerves. Before he could reply, her expression turned serious, and her eyes widened. Time seemed to stop as they halted, staring into each other’s eyes. In that instant Sam knew anything Warren did to him would be worth making love to Marie. Her face reflected the hunger he felt. “I’m not sure….” he began.

  “They’re leaving us behind, Samuel.”

  A glance ahead confirmed her statement. He smiled at her. “I have a solution for that.” Sam swung onto his horse, holding out his hand. “Don’t be shy.”

  “Very well.” She placed her right foot into the vacant left stirrup. After her hop and his pull, she sat sidesaddle like before. This time, she held the flowers close to her. Sam nudged Scamp into a trot. Marie yelped and wrapped her arm around Sam’s waist to hold onto him, too.

  Putting a hand on her arm, he shouted “Hyah!” and they galloped to the Warren’s wagon. He leaned forward, her holding on for dear life and him enjoying every inch of their contact. They soon arrived in the midst of the group and slowed. “I enjoyed that.”

  Her face still pressed against his back, she said, “I need the ground.” She shuddered. “My feet on terra firma seems best at the moment, not holding on for dear life.”

  He looked back at her, grinning. “Admit it, you enjoyed the speed.”

  Cheeks blushing, she stared at his shoulder. “I enjoyed the hugging part more.”

  “Why, Mrs. Warren! I’m shocked to hear such a thing from you.” He teased her, trying to ignore how his heart skipped a beat from her admission.

  She gave him a sly glance and a smile. “It was either that or landing on my rump.”

  Sam laughed and held out his hand for her as Marie slid from his horse. Before he could give a retort about her backside, her husband strolled up to them.

  “There you are, my dear.” His eyes narrowed when seeing the bouquet she held. “My goodness, Mr. Granville had a lot of posies left over, didn’t he?”

  She shrugged, smiling. “I suppose so. He was kind enough to let me have them instead of letting them go to waste.”

  Sam didn’t want to cause a fuss and figured under explaining his motives would be best. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Of course, Granville. I assume you have work to do this afternoon instead of romancing my wife and sister.”

  “In fact, I do.” Sam grinned as if Warren meant to be humorous and tipped his hat to both of them. He rode up to the front, his body still feeling warm from Marie’s touch, and he smiled. Any contact with her brightened his day and outlook. She’d held on so tight, the side of her face resting against his back. Rubbing his stomach, his skin seemed branded by her despite how the shirt’s fabric separated them. More and more, everything he saw or smelled called her to mind. The warm brown of Scamp’s coat matched her eyes, the animal’s main and tail matched Marie’s hair. Sam grinned. Not that he’d tell her all this. He would bet she’d rather hear how she smelled sweeter than any flowers she carried.

  He spent the afternoon daydreaming while trailing the stragglers. Deep blue mountains in the distance accented the bright azure of the sky. Gray-green sage dotted with near lime-hued grass and cactus colored the land. He grinned, appreciating the beauty despite the vast emptiness. Being here always helped him appreciate his family’s home in Oregon Territory among the rich vegetation there. He watched as wagons rolled single file to the river crossing. Each inched their way down the hill. The others backed up while waiting their turn. Loud voices, angry, caught his attention and he grimaced. He and his brother Nick rarely fought while out here, but other families seemed to thrive on conflict. Sam nudged Scamp forward to see what the problem was.

  While easing his horse to the river along a slender path cut into the cliff, he heard a crash followed by women’s screams. He tasted the metallic tang of fear. Sam turned his horse up the incline and back towards his party. Others gathered around an overturned wagon, and he dismounted once reaching them. Not until seeing Marie unharmed and tending to Ellen did he realize how much he dreaded a chance of seeing her injured.

  Before he could ask, Lucky said, “The axel broke, then the yoke, and the whole thing toppled over before anyone could think.”

  Sam noticed Ellen was cradling her arm. “Who else is hurt?”

  Indicating the young woman, Lucky replied, “We think Miss Winslow broke her arm. Her little brother and sister weren’t in the wagon.”

  “And her parents?” As soon as he asked, Sam watched as Ellen’s mother was freed from under the spilled contents and pulled clear by Mr. Winslow and Arnold. They helped her to lean against one of the ladies.

  “Her father is looking for the youngest two now,” Lucky said.
>
  “Very well.” He nodded, glad to see Mrs. Winslow feebly walking with Ellen’s and Marie’s assistance. “You all get the wagon righted. We’ll take an axle from one of the abandoned rigs around here, and a yoke, too.”

  The young man shrugged, “What if we can’t find any?”

  “We can. I saw some back a ways.” Sam turned to Uncle Joe and asked, “Ellen’s father built this wagon himself, didn’t he?”

  Joe replied, “Yes, he did, but not very well. Mr. Winslow made it out of old wood instead of buying new. He saved his money, wanting a chance to use the timber in the Territory he had heard about.”

  Sam nodded. “Then Lucky and Arnold, get him what he needs to fix this. Meanwhile, let’s see what we can do for the injured.” Uncle Joe followed as Sam went to Ellen where she stood among a large group. “Miss Ellen?”

  “Yes?” she sobbed.

  “Let me check your arm, see if how badly broken it is.” At her nod, he took her hand and supported her arm under the elbow. “Can you bend your wrist?”

  She tried, wincing. “A little, but it really hurts.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry to hurt you. Now, can you bend your elbow?”

  Ellen did as he asked. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as my wrist.”

  “That’s good.” He held her arm, palm up, and supported her with a hand underneath. “Tell me when the pressure hurts.” Sam gingerly pressed from her elbow to her wrist on the underside of Ellen’s forearm. Halfway to her hand, she winced. “There?”

  “Yes, very much right there.”

  “All right.” Knowing where the break was, Sam put her uninjured hand under her own arm to brace it. “I have bandages and a splint in the camp wagon. Come with me and we’ll get you set.” Seeing Lefty helping Ellen’s mother walk toward them, he asked, “How is she?”

  “She’s favoring her right leg, sir,” he replied and shrugged.

  “I see.” Sam said, “Mrs. Winslow, if you’ll wait here for a moment I’ll get what you need for your leg.” After the woman had nodded, he addressed Marie and Jenny. “If you two will watch while I fix up Miss Ellen’s arm, you can do the same for Mrs. Winslow.” The two paid attention as he placed a splint under Ellen’s palm running to near her elbow. Sam then wrapped a bandage snug but not tight around her forearm.

  Uncle Joe retrieved a small laudanum pill. “Take this, it’ll help the pain.”

  As Ellen swallowed the medicine, Sam turned to Marie and Jenny. “Do you remember how I found where the bone was broken?”

  They both nodded, Marie saying, “Yes, I’m sure we can do this.”

  “Good. If you need help, let one of us know, and we’ll retrieve Mrs. Norman or one of the other ladies.” He gave Jenny the bandage and a leg splint and gave Marie the laudanum bottle. He said to Joe, “Let’s go and fix up the Winslow’s and their wagon.”

  An ashen Mr. Winslow had the wagon propped up on stacked boxes, most of their possessions on the ground outside. The ladies shielded Mrs. Winslow with their skirts as Marie and Jenny doctored her leg. Lefty, Arnold, and Lucky escorted the other wagons on to the next clear spring.

  By late afternoon, the Winslows were ready to rejoin the group. Most of the others had gone ahead and were out of sight. Sam, Winslow, and Uncle Joe lifted Mrs. Winslow onto a thick pile of bedding the women had fixed for her. The two youngest crawled into the wagon with her, soon falling asleep.

  Marie broke away from Jenny and Ellen, coming up to Sam. “Here’s your laudanum.”

  He took it while asking, “You gave her only one?”

  “Only one, the same as you gave Ellen.”

  “Good. I’ve seen a lot of people addicted to this. The last thing I want is a fight over the stuff.” He slipped the medicine into his saddle bag.

  Before she could say anything else, Lucky galloped up to them. “Hey, boss, we've camped up a ways. The grass ain’t so bad, and there’s some wood. It’s not too far from here if you start soon.”

  Giving him a wave, Marie left and joined the other women. Turning to Lucky, he said, “Sounds good. We’re ready to go.” He mounted his horse, whistled, and Winslow started the oxen moving. He turned to see the children still on the seat, somber from the accident. Sam noticed Lucky stayed put and addressed the young man. “Mr. Martin?”

  “Boss, maybe I should walk with Miss Jenny and the ladies. In case they get scared.” The young man shrugged a second too late to be casual.

  Grinning at the obvious ploy Sam retorted, “You can see danger better from horseback. I think the ladies will feel much safer with you up here rather than down there.” He grinned at his employee’s grimace. The young man didn’t know Sam had the same idea to remain near Marie. He’d not mind her seated behind him on Scamp again. Even on a warm afternoon like this, he’d liked her pressed against him again during a gallop.

  He glanced over at Lucky. The young man was silent, something out of the ordinary for him. Sam grinned. He probably daydreamed about Jenny. The girl had caught his eye the first day they rolled west, as he’d caught hers. Sam didn’t think he and Marie could say the same. Later, he could dwell on when he first fell in love with her. Right now, he needed to get them to a good camp.

  The last two families lagged behind at the last ridge. He needed to get them over what would be the final incline for a while. He forded a shallow part of the river on his way back to them. Once across, he leaned forward as his horse climbed the steep incline. Sam gritted his teeth when hearing how Mr. Winslow hollered at Ellen. He couldn’t make out the words from this distance, just the angry tone of the man’s voice.

  He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. While Sam didn’t care for how her father talked to Ellen, he knew Jack’s yelling lacked any abusive action behind it. He stayed back as Uncle Joe and Arnold helped Winslow ease the wagon down the embankment. The rest of the family stayed up on the ridge, waiting until it was safe to follow. His men knew the drill. Soon they all rolled or walked through the water to their camp for the night.

  They didn’t have far to go and caught up in an hour or so. The latecomers pulled their wagons into the familiar circle. With the Winslows finding their own place, Sam looked back at the ridge in the distance they’d traveled. The accident, heat, and wind took the starch out of him. He’d noticed how even Lucky lacked his usual energy. If not at such a distance, he’d send someone to the snow laced mountaintops to the north. He shook his head at the idea. The snow would be melted and warm by the time it reached them here in the lower elevations.

  To the south, he saw women bringing back full pails. He knew nearby lakes held bad water, but the river ran half a mile south. Sam saw how almost everyone filled their water barrels upon reaching their own wagons.

  He rode Scamp to the river, hoping to find decent grass for the animal. The north wind brought aromas that made his stomach growl. A few had dinner cooking already. He dismounted, his horse trotting to the water as soon as Sam’s boots hit the dirt. Following, he noticed how the women took advantage of the early stop to wash clothes. He hoped the men saw the chance to hunt. Catching sight of Lefty downstream, he led a reluctant Scamp over to the younger man.

  Lefty paused in staking out their oxen to greet him. “Hello, boss. I don’t think Uncle Joe and me are ready for the second watch tonight.”

  Sam suppressed a yawn. “Can’t say I blame you. Lucky and I aren’t ready for first.”

  Lefty added, “One thing’s for sure, I’m never complaining about a bed ever again.”

  Sam smiled. “Me neither.” They watched Scamp drink until full. They followed as the animal pulled toward new grass growing along the bank. He shook his head. If he’d been thinking, he’d have taken his horse’s saddle off back at camp.

  After a little while, Lefty said, “I reckon the ladies have the right idea, washing clothes and all.”

  “Is that an offer to do our wash?”

  “Nope!” The young man shook his head. “Just an observa
tion, boss.”

  “It’s a good idea. We’ll all pitch in so none of us spend all day and night scrubbing.”

  “Don’t tell them I thought of it.”

  Sam laughed instead of replying. He tied off his horse at a sagebrush near the grass and oxen. Making a motion for Lefty to follow, he walked back to camp. “We’ll bring back the animals later on this evening. They deserve the chance to eat as much as they want.”

  At camp, Uncle Joe coaxed a fire out of the sagebrush. He looked up as they approached and nodded. “I did some scouting around for game already. Didn’t see anything.”

  Lucky rustled around in the wagon, adding, “We still have meat from that pronghorn you shot day before, Joe.”

  “That’s right,” said Sam. “That’ll take care of this evening, and we’ll keep an eye out tomorrow. Until then, let’s wash up our clothes.” The three men groaned, but each went to gather their worst laundry. They took turns carrying all of it sacked up in a sheet. The half mile seemed longer to the one loaded down.

  Once at the water’s edge, each took a garment and began scrubbing. Lefty had the most difficulty but managed to keep up with the others. All of them had to pause every so often and warm their hands back to near body temperature. The cold, clear water numbed them too soon.

  Lefty took a pair of pants from under the water. “How close are we to those hot springs again?”

  Sam shook his head. “Not close enough to get warm anytime soon.”

  “I’ve seen how some can boil you alive,” said Joe.

  “After killing and plucking a chicken, we cooked it in one.” Lucky grinned at the memory. “The meat was real tender.”

  Joe nodded. “If you find a spring warm enough for a bath but not too hot, keep hold of your soap. The currents can pull it out of your hand.”

  “Especially soap,” Lucky added.

  Spying Lefty’s alarmed expression, Sam added, “Don’t worry. There are a few hot springs that are warm and mild. You’ll see.”

  The boy frowned as if not quite believing him. “I’m not partial to being stewed alive.”