Luke stepped forward. At first glance, he appeared calm and composed like always, but Callie sensed his anger from the way his jaw clenched, the way a vein throbbed above one eyebrow. “It’s not an ordinary necklace. Pawnee men must earn the right to wear a grizzly bear claw necklace. They earn it through an act of bravery.”
“That so?” Coy struggled not to wither under Luke’s stony gaze. “Still, he don’t need it now. Why can’t I take it? They’re nothing but savages.”
Luke cast a withering gaze at the little group gathered around the corpse. “Go home, all of you. There’s nothing to see here. You don’t want to be around when the Pawnees come back to bury their dead.” He turned his attention to Coy. “They’re not savages. They’re people whose land we’re stealing. They don’t like it. Can you blame them? Don’t condemn them because they’re different. You only condemn yourself if you do. Now go, and go quietly. Remember, this isn’t a meadow anymore. It’s a sacred burial ground.”
“Can’t we take the jewelry?” Coy asked.
“It’s a sacrilege to loot their bodies.” Luke’s words came out as cold and clear as ice water. “Go. Just go.”
Shocked into silence, the group left without further protest. Starting back, Callie, Tommy in hand, walked behind Ma and her stepsisters.
“So Little Mouse found a voice,” Nellie murmured, loud enough for Callie to hear.
Lydia shrugged and whispered, “Now she’s in big trouble with Ma.”
Callie’s rage rose again. Maybe it had never gone away. “I am not Little Mouse. Don’t call me that anymore.”
“Well, listen to her,” Nellie jested.
Ma glanced back to make sure they were out of Luke’s hearing. “If you ask me, that man has lost his mind.”
Nellie sniffed indignantly. “Imagine! Treating Indians like they are human.”
Ma turned around and glared at Callie. “And what got into you, missy? How dare you talk to me like that! I’ve a mind to—”
“What, Ma?” Callie tossed her head. “Send me to bed without my supper? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” She hardly heeded the shock on her family’s faces. At this point, nothing they said or did could possibly matter. She’d seen them for what they really were. Shocking! How could she not have realized after all these years? Disgusting! She must get away, go someplace where she could calm down, pull herself together. Below, through the trees, she spotted the slim blue line of a stream. “Lydia, take Tommy.” She placed Tommy’s hand in Lydia’s, bolted from the group, and found her way down the wooded incline to the stream. Big boulders lined the banks. She found a flat one and sat down, grateful no one had followed.
For a time, she sat in a daze, waiting for her heart to stop hammering.
“What are you doing here by yourself?” It was Luke, calling from atop the steep incline. Somehow he’d spotted her.
She called back, “I’m fine. I don’t want to go back yet, that’s all.”
Luke swiftly descended the hill to where she sat. The flat space on the rock was big enough for two, so he settled himself beside her, his closeness knocking all rational thought from her head. The tough, lean look about him, the set of his broad shoulders in his buckskin jacket—oh, yes, everything about him was so disturbing. He frowned. “It’s not a good idea to be out here by yourself. In case you haven’t noticed, there are Indians around who are none too friendly.”
“I don’t care. I—” She swallowed hard. Biting back tears, she couldn’t continue.
“It’s that family of yours, isn’t it?”
At first, loyalty prevented her from replying until she could no longer control the words of anger and resentment that were bursting to be said. “Ma—Nellie—Lydia—I’ll never forget how they talked over the body of that poor dead Indian. How could they?” She balled her fists, making no effort to control her trembling. “How heartless! How disgusting! How—”
“They’re your family, Callie.”
Luke’s calm voice brought her back from the depths of her blind rage. “I know they’re my family. I love them all, but I think they acted horrible today. It’s like…” She fought for the right words. “All these years I’ve always looked up to them, like I was nothing and they were so much better than me. Not after today. How could I have been so blind? Why did I never notice how selfish and shallow they are?”
“Remember when I told you how some people change on these long journeys?”
“I remember.” How could she forget that night she first met Luke? She remembered every word he’d said.
“Your family has stayed pretty much the same, but you’ve changed. Now you see them through different eyes.”
“I should never have left Tennessee.”
“Leaving Tennessee was the best thing you ever did. If you’d stayed home, would you have learned how to read?”
“Probably not.”
“If you’d stayed home, would you ever have stood up to your Ma like you did today?”
“Never.” She bit her lip in thought. “I’m not sure how I feel about talking to her that way. I know I was right, but I feel guilty just the same.”
“You shouldn’t.” Luke pressed his hand over hers. “The old days are gone. You can never go back to what you were.”
“Ma was really mad. I doubt—”
“Don’t worry. Soon as she realizes she can’t push you around anymore, she’ll come around. So will your pa and sisters.” He scanned her critically and nodded approval. “You’re tougher than you realize. I knew it the first time I saw you.”
The first time I saw you. His words brought up the image she couldn’t forget. Luke standing naked in the creek…every bit of his lean, hard body exposed. Bold words rushed to her lips. Why not say them? This appeared to be her day for honesty. “The first time you saw me, you were bare-ass naked.”
Luke threw back his head and let out a great peal of laughter. “So you remember.”
She’d become acutely aware of his hand over hers. Its warmth had spread, pushing all other thoughts from her mind. “Of course I remember. So do you.” What am I doing? His overpowering presence caused a panic to rise within her. “I’d best get back.” She rose to leave, but before she could take a step, strong fingers held her wrist like a vise.
“Not so fast.” He rose and clasped her upper arms. “I find you…” After a brief pause, he pulled her roughly to him so she was wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips against hers, gently at first, but then more hungrily, caressing her mouth in a kiss so searing it made her senses reel. She slid her arms around his neck, pressed close, and returned his kiss with reckless abandon. Time stood still while blood pounded in her brain and her knees trembled until finally he broke away, clasped her shoulders, and shoved her away at arm’s length. “No more.”
She stood breathless. Luke kissed me. She had imagined kissing him many a time, but now that he had, she had no idea what to say.
Before she found words, he shook his head, as if to clear his mind. “Forget this happened.” His breathing slowed. He backed a step away, appearing to have gained control over the passion that had gripped him.
But I don’t want to forget. She swallowed her words. The purposeful look in his eyes told her not to argue.
The unbelievable moment of passion had passed. He took her arm. “Let’s get back to the camp. I’ll give you a ride.”
Callie couldn’t think straight on the ride back to camp. Perched behind Luke on Rascal, she was obliged to circle her arms around his waist, thus pressing herself tightly against his broad back, aware every minute of its warmth and strength. She had hoped to slip back quietly, seen by no one, but no such luck. Both Lydia and Nellie were standing outside their tent when Luke and Callie rode up to the wagon. They stared in astonishment when Callie, vowing to act as if nothing unusual had happened, slid off Rascal’s back. “Thank you for the ride, Mr. McGraw.” She could have been talking to a stranger.
“You’re welcome, Miss Whitaker.”
Lydia tilted her head to one side, her standard flirtatious pose. Her full lips formed an enticing smile. “I do hope you’re not mad at us, Mr. McGraw.”
“Of course not.”
“Will you stay for supper?” She slanted a sharp glance at her stepsister. “It’ll be ready soon, won’t it, Callie?”
“Thanks. Another time.” Luke quickly rode away.
When he was out of sight, Lydia spun around to face Callie. “So what was that about?”
“Why, I…I…”
“What were you doing with Luke?” Lydia tossed her head. “Looks to me like you’re going after every man in this train.”
Callie had to clamp her mouth shut to keep it from dropping open. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about last night when you made a fool of yourself chasing after Magnus Ferguson. You know he belongs to me.”
“Does he?”
Ma appeared. “He most certainly does. Callie, I’m shocked at your behavior. Yelling at me…trying to steal Lydia’s gentleman friend away. Is this how you act after all we’ve done for you? What were you doing with Luke McGraw just now?”
“I…nothing.” Faced with Ma’s and Lydia’s anger, Callie wanted to run away all over again, but this time there was no escape. She’d had enough upheaval for one day. At least it was suppertime. If she knew her family, their desire to be fed would far outweigh any other emotions they might have. She squared her shoulders and addressed them all. “If you have anything else to say, say it now because I’m going to start supper.” She waited. No one said a word. Hiding her little smile of triumph, she went to light the campfire.
That night, one rumor after another swept through the camp. The Indians had left the area. No, the Indians were lurking close by, waiting for the dead of night so they could attack and kill them all. As a result, no one had the slightest interest in merriment around the campfire. They could hardly wait to depart as early as possible the next morning and leave this dangerous area behind.
Callie did her best to act her normal self for Tommy’s sake. After his frightening experience with the dead Indian, he had crawled into the wagon and not come out. No one else seemed to notice the boy’s distress until Callie, with her usual patience, persuaded him to come down from the wagon and sit by her side. “Shall we have another reading lesson?” She still shared her lessons with the boy, but no progress yet. He sat quietly by her side, seeming to pay attention, although she was never sure if she was getting through or not. She just kept trying.
“We’re starting with Lesson Seven today.” She opened the McGuffey’s Reader to the proper page and pointed to the picture of a boy bending to feed a hen. “Ned…has…fed… the… hen. Do you understand, Tommy?” The boy sat motionless. She read the sentence again, moving her finger slowly from word to word.
Laughter from across the campfire reached her. Ma, Pa, and her stepsisters regarded her with great amusement. “Is something funny?”
This time it wasn’t Nellie full of ridicule, it was Ma. “You’re the funny one if you think you can teach the dummy to read.”
“Told you it’s a waste of time.” Nellie’s face carried its familiar smirk.
“He’s not a dummy and this is not a waste of time.” Callie knew her words would fall on deaf ears, but she had to say them anyway. “He might not talk, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn to read. I believe he understands everything we say.”
Pa made a scoffing sound and walked away.
Ma said, “Nellie’s right. You’re wasting your time.”
She wanted to scream he is not a dummy! You are the dummies because you don’t understand. Can’t you see he’s hurt by what you say? Instead, she returned her attention to Tommy and focused on the book in her lap. “She…is…a…black…hen. Just like it shows in the picture, Tommy. Now let’s see if you can read it to me.”
The boy stared silently at the page. Finally he placed a finger under the first word. In an unwavering voice, he read, “She…is…a…black…hen.” He looked at her with a pleased smile, like he was saying, See? I can so read!
She wanted to shout with joy, clap her hands and do a little dance, but she hid her delight and acted as if nothing unusual had occurred. “That’s very good, Tommy.” She hoped to share this momentous occasion with her family, but they’d all wandered off. No one had heard. “That’s all right, Tommy, you and I know this is just the beginning, don’t we?” She continued the lesson. Not easy, considering her brain was bursting with so many things to think about. Tommy was learning to read! Wonderful news, but that was the good part. What if the Indians attacked? They could all be killed and it wouldn’t matter in the least who could read and who couldn’t. And what about Ma? Today, for the first time ever, Callie totally defied her. What would happen? What should she do?
What occupied her brain most was the amazing fact that only hours ago she’d been in Luke McGraw’s arms. Why was she thinking of him? She should feel more excited that she, more than any girl in the company, had captured the attention of Magnus Ferguson. Strange how little she cared. Maybe Luke’s low opinion of Magnus had something to do with it. Or maybe the overwhelming thrill when Luke kissed her knocked every sensible notion from her head. Callie cast a quick glance at her stepsister who’d just returned to the campfire. Lydia’s withering glance in return spoke volumes. She was fit to be tied, and Callie hadn’t the least notion what to do.
Chapter 8
By the third day after the Indian battle, the collective mood of the Ferguson company had changed from fear to cautious optimism. They were making good time, averaging over twenty miles a day along an easy trail. Food and water were plentiful, both for humans and animals. For the most part, Callie’s life remained the same. With Florida’s help, she finished the last lesson in McGuffey’s Reader and progressed to Florida’s tattered copy of The New England Primer. At last she could read! She hadn’t realized how much her illiteracy made her feel like an inferior being, not worthy of respect. Now she could hold her head up, knowing she could read as well as Nellie and probably better than Lydia.
No one in her family had said another word concerning her rebellion at the Indian battlefield. For her part, each day’s grueling trek left little time for dwelling upon her family’s shortcomings and the shabby way she’d been treated. She’d hardly thought about it since. Ma treated her the same as before. Nellie, caught up in her romance with Coy Barnett, seemed off in a dreamy world of her own, barely aware of her surroundings. Lydia acted friendly enough, but every now and then Callie caught her casting a hateful glance her way. Did the glance say stay away from Magnus or stay away from Luke? Probably both. No problem there. Callie hadn’t spoken to Luke since the day they’d kissed. The times they did see each other, he acknowledged her presence with a quick, impersonal nod, the same he would give every other woman in the train. It was like he was deliberately avoiding her. As for Magnus, he stopped by their wagons to chat at least once a day. Obviously he was interested in her, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t feel anything but friendship for the leader of the wagon train.
One day the captains decided to stop early when they came across a beautiful spot for the wagons to camp, a wide clearing surrounded by dense green woods, bordered by a sparkling stream. As usual, Callie ventured out in search for fuel for the fire. At the beginning of the trek, she’d mostly gone alone. Ma and her sisters had always found excuses to beg off, but lately she’d formed the habit of joining Florida and her daughter, Hetty. She looked forward to these strolls, filled with woman talk and chatter about the events of the day.
Hetty stooped to pick up a round, brown object and placed it her gunnysack. “Just look at me. I never thought I’d be collecting Buffalo droppings and not think a thing of it.”
Florida grinned. “Don’t say droppings, honey, say chips. It’s easier that way.” She sighed and picked up a chip of her own. “Lu
ke said we’ll soon be grateful for the buffalo. It won’t be long before the woods will be gone and these things will be our only fuel.”
Hetty raised her eyebrows. “I don’t see those high and mighty stepsisters of yours out here.” She made no secret of her dislike for Nellie and Lydia.
Callie made a wry face. “They can’t stand touching buffalo dung.”
“Ha! Do they think they’re better than us?”
Callie had no answer, aware nearly everyone in the train felt as Hetty did. Ma, Nellie, and Lydia had become known for their laziness and the lofty way they acted, as if their social standing was a cut above the rest.
“Looks like rain,” Florida commented.
Callie looked up. The sun disappeared behind swirling dark clouds. She held out her hand and caught a raindrop. “We’d better get back.”
Holding tight to their bags full of buffalo chips, the three turned and headed toward the campground. All of a sudden, the few drops of rain turned into a torrent. They’d wandered a long way from camp, farther than Callie had thought. “Let’s run!” They started running. The wagons weren’t even in sight yet when she felt a thud on her head, and then another.
“It’s hail,” Florida yelled.
A torrent of hailstones almost as big as Callie’s fist began to pelt them from above, so hard the three had to stop in their tracks. They dropped their bags and threw their arms over their heads to protect themselves from the increasing force of the stones. Callie’s heart thumped madly. She’d heard horror stories about people unlucky enough to be caught in a vicious hailstorm. They could be hurt, badly injured, or killed. No time to reach the wagons. She spotted a large oak tree with spreading branches and pointed. “Let’s go there! It’ll give us some sort of shelter.”
As the heaviest deluge yet sent huge balls of ice hurling down upon them, they raced for the oak tree. When they reached the thick, sheltering branches, they found instant relief as they huddled underneath, soaking wet and shivering. Only a few hailstones crashed through, their progress slowed by thick branches that rendered them harmless by the time they reached the ground.
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