Something about her intrigued him. What it was, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter because Caleb Whitaker had chosen to take the long journey alone. Beyond tomorrow, he’d never see any of them again. What a fool Caleb was, but that was his choice.
Maybe I will go along with Magnus in the morning even though it won’t do any good.
Chapter 3
Caleb Whitaker was a man of stern convictions who never shilly-shallied and never, with rare exceptions, changed his mind. He’d grown up with ten brothers and sisters in a mirthless home where his parents waged a constant battle against wickedness, sloth, and sacrilege. Because his father never spared the rod, Caleb, who was a rather stubborn boy, trod the well-worn path to the woodshed many a time before the importance of obedience and discipline became deeply ingrained in his nature. It was no surprise he had followed in his father’s footsteps, raising his children as he had been raised. Spare the rod, spoil the child.
Although Caleb was in many ways a fair man, God-fearing and hardworking, his children had learned in early childhood he could be a tyrant if anyone even thought of disobeying him. Both his two oldest sons had left home at an early age, grateful to escape their parents’ tyranny. Only the girls were left, and the youngest son, Tommy, who hardly said a word and acted strange. Caleb ignored him. The boy was nothing but an embarrassment.
Hester Whitaker’s unforgiving nature resembled her husband’s. In fact, she was, in her own way, every bit a despot as he was. Raised in a home as strict as Caleb’s, she saw nothing wrong with stern discipline. Her way was the only way—a belief that went hand-in-hand with her unyielding temperament. Lydia and Nellie were the only exceptions to her stringent rules. She doted on her two girls, constantly defending them against their father, never subjecting them to the firm punishment she meted out to her other children. Nobody knew why she favored her two daughters over all the others. She never explained, perhaps because she had no explanation.
Now, at dawn’s first light, Callie and her stepfather were the first ones up, Callie making the coffee, Caleb yoking the oxen. At the sound of approaching horses, he uttered a curse and looked across the meadow. “What do those damn fools want?”
Callie followed his gaze. Magnus Ferguson and Luke McGraw headed their way on horseback. Her pulse quickened, but she wasn’t sure why. It couldn’t be Luke. He was rude and none too friendly. It had to be Magnus. Such a handsome man. Available, too, although he’d never look at her twice.
They rode up, Magnus in the lead. While Luke briefly touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, Magnus, in a grand gesture, swept his hat off and nodded to Callie. Smiling broadly, he introduced himself to Pa. “I take it you’re Mister Whitaker?”
Caleb kept his usual stern-faced expression. “If you’re here to persuade me to join your wagon train, don’t waste your time.”
“Are you sure, Mister Whitaker?”
“Positive.”
A shadow of annoyance crossed Magnus Ferguson’s face. “Then I won’t bother you further. I’m a busy man with a wagon train to lead.” He cut a sharp glance at Luke. “Let’s go. Looks like we’ve wasted our time.”
“Go ahead. I’ll follow in a minute.” As Magnus wheeled his horse around and left, Luke dismounted, looking not the least perturbed by Caleb’s unfriendly words. “At least hear me out.”
“Make it brief.” Pa continued his task of yoking the oxen. “I’m listening.”
“Coffee, Mister McGraw?” Callie would try to make up for Pa’s rudeness.
Luke nodded. As if he’d been welcomed with open arms, he accepted the cup from Callie, took a leisurely sip, and addressed Pa again. “I’ve crossed the country several times and lived in the wilderness much of my life, so I know what I’m talking about. You don’t want to make the crossing alone. There’s safety in numbers, like when the Indians attack, or when crossing rivers, or when you get stuck in the mud. If you get injured or sick, we’ve got a doctor who’s traveling with us. And there’s also…”
By the time Luke had finished, Callie was more convinced than ever that crossing the country in a covered wagon by themselves was complete folly. They should not make the journey alone and would meet disaster unless they joined the Ferguson wagon train.
Pa listened with studied indifference, appearing engrossed in the proper yoking of his oxen. When Luke finished, Pa looked up. “Is that all?”
“Yep.”
“We’ll be going alone.”
“If Indians, dangerous river crossings, snakes, and lack of medical care can’t persuade you”— Luke shrugged—“then I wish you well on your journey, and may God be with you.”
Pa shot Luke a piercing glance. “God is with me at all times, Mister McGraw. With His help, I will continue this journey alone, without the slightest doubt we shall arrive safely in the golden land. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He turned his back and walked away.
Callie wanted to cringe at Pa’s rudeness, even though Luke didn’t seem to mind. He gave a wry grimace. “I hope he’s right.” He took a final sip of coffee and swung back on his horse. His gaze swept their campsite. “Where are your stepsisters?”
How disappointing. What he probably meant was, where is Lydia? No doubt he was smitten and wanted to see her again. “Lydia and Nellie like to sleep as late as possible. They won’t come out until it’s time to eat breakfast. Ma, too.”
Luke frowned. His jaw tightened in a way that indicated he’d like to say something but thought better of it. “You’re a hard worker.”
“I like hard work.”
“Really?” His expression held a touch of mockery. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Go right ahead.” Her life was a dull open book. She had nothing to hide.
“How long have you been with the Whitakers?”
“That’s easy. From the day I was born, or soon after. They found me on their doorstep and were kind enough to take me in.”
“You don’t know who your parents are?”
“Ma suspects my mother was one of the fancy women who worked at the saloon in town. All I know is, they took me in and gave me a roof over my head. I’m forever grateful.”
“I see that. You work very hard.”
“Yes, of course I do—to repay them for their kindness.”
“Hmm…”
He seemed to be fighting to keep his words back. “You have something to say, Mister McGraw?”
“Yes, I have something to say. From what little I’ve seen, you do more than your share. By now, isn’t this debt you feel you owe paid in full?”
Nobody had ever asked her such a question before. No one had ever cared that much to ask. “It’s a debt that will never be paid in full.”
He frowned at her answer. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life being treated like a, like a…”
“Servant?”
“Yes, servant.” He sounded annoyed. “That’s not right.”
“Perhaps not, but that’s my lot in life.”
His eyes rolled skyward. He swore something under his breath then remained silent.
She surprised herself by blurting, “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”
“I’ve got to get back.” He touched a finger to his hat. “Good day then, Callie Whitaker. Have a safe journey, and for God’s sake, put a little fun in your life.”
He wheeled his horse around and headed back across the meadow. She would never see him again. She’d still be thinking about him, though. Never before had she met a man who saw her as a person, not just a servant girl. He said she was a hard worker. How strange to hear a man say something nice about her. If he’d told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, she couldn’t have been more flattered.
“Callie, have you got breakfast ready?” Lydia appeared, tousle-headed and still in her white flannel nightgown.
“Almost. You’d better hurry up.” For once, Callie’s usually agreeable voice he
ld an edge. She’d clearly understood Luke’s unspoken words. You work too hard. Why aren’t your stepsisters here to help?
Why not indeed? Luke’s comments had unleashed a vague feeling of resentment. Why did she have to do most of the work? According to Ma, both her stepsisters were too delicate and frail to make more than a token effort at doing chores. But were they really? Why couldn’t they do more of the work? She always ended up doing all of it, and that wasn’t right. Was she truly fated to be an unpaid servant all her life?
“Callie!” Ma called. “Soon as you finish breakfast and wash the dishes, see that Tommy is dressed and everything’s packed.”
“Yes, Ma.” Reaching for the biscuits, Callie set her rebellious thoughts aside. Ahead lay another grueling day. There’d be no time for silly resentments. She’d need every bit of energy she possessed just to survive.
* * * *
Although she never had one of her own, Callie loved horses. They had brought along several: Pa’s horse, a palomino named Duke, the mounts for Andy and Len, a reliable filly named Pearl, her buckskin yearling, Jaide. She especially loved Jaide and hoped she could train and ride him someday. In the meantime, riding Duke was one of the few pleasures of the journey. At home, she had taken care of the handsome gelding, although Pa had never let her ride him. Now, since Pa spent most of the day driving the wagon, he allowed Callie to saddle Duke and walk him alongside the train, a welcome break from having to trudge on foot. Thank goodness, Ma, Lydia, and Nellie didn’t object. They’d never shown the slightest interest in horses. Lydia, in particular, tried to avoid “the scary things.” Pa didn’t trust Tommy with any of his animals, so, to Callie’s delight, she had Duke to herself and rode as often as she could.
Today was no exception. After the two wagons started their daily trek and the handymen got the cattle moving, Callie swung into the saddle and urged Duke forward. She glanced across the meadow. The circle of wagons was gone. So they’d already left. Ah, well. The day was sunny, the heavily wooded scenery beautiful, and she shouldn’t complain, even though she wished she could have talked to Florida again, and Luke, too.
Occasionally, one of the hired hands joined her when they weren’t busy herding the hundred head of cattle. She enjoyed riding with them both. Andy, always smiling and friendly. Len, always arrogant and slightly condescending, but never boring. They both possessed a contagious enthusiasm that brightened her day, and no wonder. They were going to get rich! Soon as they got to California, they’d start gathering those gold nuggets that lay for the taking all over the ground.
Skinny, sharp-nosed Len pulled his horse alongside hers. “Little Mouse, how goes it today?”
Little Mouse. He’d picked that up from her family. She didn’t like it but never thought to object. Not until now. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
His mouth pulled into a mocking grin. “I call you that because you are a little mouse, a meek little mouse who always does what she’s told.”
“I could change.”
“You?” Len snickered. “That’ll be the day. Better stay like you are. You’re safer that way.”
She felt defeated and subdued, as she always did after any sort of confrontation and could think of nothing more to say. They rode in silence until Len remarked, “Guess your pa still wants to go it alone.”
She nodded. “What do you think?”
“I think whatever gets me to California the fastest is the way to go, and that’s traveling alone. Those big wagon trains are safer, but their pace is slower than molasses.”
She remembered Luke’s warning. “What about crossing the rivers? Won’t it be more dangerous if we’re alone?”
“Hell, no. Don’t worry about it, Little Mouse. Your pa knows what he’s doing.” Len spurred his horse and took off to chase one of the cattle that had wandered away.
Toward the end of the day, they came to the Big Blue River. The wagons of the Ferguson wagon train were parked along its banks. Not one had crossed yet. Pa, still driving the wagon with Ma beside him, shaded his eyes for a closer look. “What in the Sam Hill are they doing?”
Callie, still astride Duke, reined up beside the wagon. “It looks like they’re unloading everything.”
“Look at those fools.” Pa cast a look of disgust. “They’ll lose at least two days trying to get across.” He flicked his whip over the oxen and they started up again.
As they drew closer, Ma pointed. “Oh, look, there’s that awful woman with the bloomers. Try to avoid her, Caleb.”
Too late. Florida spotted them and waved. “Have you come to join us? Isn’t this terrible?” She spoke in a cheery voice, gesturing toward the growing pile of possessions she and her children were unloading from the wagon. “Luke says we must take everything out of the wagons. Then, what scares me to death, is we’ve got to float them across. You should join us, Mister Whitaker. There’s safety in numbers.”
Pa gave her a thin-lipped smile. “We’ll find our own place to cross farther upstream. Somewhere more shallow than this.”
Luke rode up. “Not a good idea, sir. Those shallow crossings can be tricky. A lot of them are full of quicksand. Believe me, you don’t want to get stuck.”
“I’ll take my chances.” With a look of disdain, Pa flicked the reins. The wagon started to roll again on a trail by the riverbank, headed upstream.
“If you hit quicksand, whatever you do, don’t stop!” Luke called after him.
Pa appeared not to hear and didn’t slow his pace.
Callie, still atop her horse, paused to speak to Luke and Florida. “Wish us luck.”
Florida glanced at the swift-flowing river. Her face filled with worry. “I’ll say a special prayer for you.”
Callie could tell she meant it from the bottom of her heart.
Luke, too, had a look of worry. “Be careful.” He was smiling, yet serious.
She tilted her chin in an attempt to look a lot braver than she felt. “We’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll see you on the other side.” She urged Duke into a trot and rode away. Acutely aware Luke’s gaze must be fastened on her back, she sat straight in the saddle, tall as she could, and took care not to bounce like a beginner, like Lydia would do. At least he’d think she was a good rider, although why his opinion should matter in the least, she didn’t know.
* * * *
Pa drove the first wagon, followed by Andy driving the second, nearly a mile upstream until they came to a stretch of the riverbank lined with a sparse fringe of trees. Len rode his horse partway into the stream. “This here spot is pretty shallow. I don’t think we’ll find one better.”
Callie gazed in consternation at the place they’d chosen. This was the best the boys could find? Maybe the bank wasn’t as steep, but the current still ran high and swift. She wasn’t the only one concerned.
Lydia frowned with unease. “Are you sure, Len? That river looks way too dangerous to me.”
Len laughed with scorn. “I’ll show you how dangerous it is, Miss Lydia.” Still laughing, he rode his chestnut gelding back into the river, only farther this time. “See how easy?” He held tight to the horse’s mane.
Suddenly the horse sank almost from sight. It must have stepped into a hole. In a panic, it bucked, reared and threw its rider into the water. Len came to the surface only to find the panic-stricken animal lashing out in all directions. Everyone gasped when a fatal blow of the horse’s hoof just missed his head. By some miracle, he managed to drag himself from the river and collapse exhausted on the bank. His horse scrambled out beside him. “Still think we can make it,” he panted, struggling for breath.
Callie waited for Pa to disagree, to say they should find another place, but after a careful scanning of the river, he nodded his head. “We’ll cross here, just a few feet farther upstream to avoid that hole. Andy, start driving the cattle across. We’ll follow with the wagons.”
Ma looked doubtful. “Caleb, are you sure? That water looks—”
&nb
sp; “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Go ahead, boys.”
Ma shut her mouth. Callie dismounted and removed Duke’s saddle. The women watched with growing concern as Len and Andy, whooping and waving their hats, drove the horses and cattle into the stream. Although an occasional errant cow balked, or swam in the wrong direction, they all made it across. When the last animal reached the opposite bank, Pa nodded with satisfaction and cast an I-told-you-so glance at his wife. “All that fuss for nothing. Get in the wagons. We’ll cross right now and be way ahead of that idiot, Ferguson.”
Andy made ready to drive the first wagon across with Ma on the seat beside him, Nelly and Lydia in the back.
Len, already on the far bank, called across. “Remember what they said, Andy. Once you get started, don’t stop for nothing.”
Andy drove the wagon down the bank and into the river. Callie caught her breath as she watched Ma gripping the seat, and Andy beside her cracking the whip above the oxen’s heads. He was yelling like she’d never heard before, encouraging the animals into the swift stream. What if the wagon tipped and they were tossed into the icy water? Nobody knew how to swim. It would be a complete disaster.
No need to worry, they made it across. Callie’s confidence soared as the wagon rolled to the top of the opposite bank and her family jumped down, all smiles. Now only she, Pa, and Tommy had yet to cross in the second wagon.
Pa grinned with satisfaction. “See how easy that was? Let’s go.”
Callie took her little brother’s hand and started toward the wagon. He pulled back and started to cry. “No, scared! Don’t want to go.”
She stopped and knelt before him. “Don’t be scared, Tommy. It’s easy.” The boy shook his head and continued to cry. She called to Pa. “We’d better wait. I need to get him calmed down.”
Pa got down off the wagon seat and strode to where they were standing. “Why are you coddling the boy?” He pointed toward the wagon. “Get him on the seat right now or I swear I’ll leave him behind.”
Wagon Train Cinderella Page 3
