Next thing she knew, they were on the ground. His mouth was crushing hers again, and his hands were making their warm presence known on her bodice. They caused a burning desire, an aching need she’d never felt before. “Oh, Luke…”
His breathing came hard, his voice a harsh whisper. “Looks like I put your dress on too soon.” He fumbled for the buttons of her bodice and then stopped abruptly. “What am I doing?”
“You’re kissing me.”
She reached to caress the back of his neck, but he pulled away. “We can’t do this.”
“Why?” She wanted him back. Every throbbing part of her body wanted him back.
“Lots of reasons.” He stood, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. “I was hired to guide this wagon train, not paw the ladies.”
“You weren’t pawing me, and you know that.” She smoothed the front of her dress. “You’re not telling me the real reason.”
“No, and I’m not going to. It won’t happen again. Come on, let’s go.”
He’d apparently made up his mind. Further protests would be useless.
There’s a lot you don’t know about me, he’d said. As she suspected, something in his past hung over him. She couldn’t imagine what it was, except it had to be something so dreadful he couldn’t get past it and remained remote and unreachable. “What don’t I know about you, Luke?”
“We’d better get started. Like I said, it’ll take ’til dawn to get back.”
She’d get no answer tonight. In silence, she followed him back to the horses. Maybe she’d never get an answer.
* * * *
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when they caught up with the train. At her wagons, Callie slid from the back of Luke’s horse, untied Jaide, and bid Luke good-bye. In a state of exhaustion, she could hardly wait to crawl into her bed and get a bit of sleep before the day’s trek began. Pa climbed from the wagon just after Luke rode away. He frowned when he caught sight of her and said none too kindly, “So you’re back.”
“Yes, Pa.”
“I see you got the colt.”
“Yes, Pa. He crossed the river and ran into the woods. I had to—”
“You were out all night.” His stern voice contained not a bit of sympathy or concern.
“I was, but you see—”
“I’ll deal with you later.” He turned his back and started away. “Get breakfast started,” he called over his shoulder.
What! How could he? She would not turn the other cheek this time. She had a burning question on her mind, and by God, he would answer. “Why did you leave me behind?”
Pa slowed but didn’t stop. “Ask your Ma.”
“I want an answer from you.”
Pa stopped and turned, just as Ma poked her head out of the wagon. She glared at Callie. “Don’t talk to your Pa that way.”
“How could you have gone off and left me?” If her anger showed, she didn’t care.
Ma blinked as if she’d been taken unaware. “Don’t blame us. When we left, Lydia said you were visiting over at the Sawyer wagon.”
Callie swung her gaze to Pa. “You knew I’d gone after Jaide.”
Pa shrugged. If he felt the slightest guilt, it didn’t show. “We needed to leave, get out of the mud. Now I want no part of this. You women settle your differences among yourselves.” He turned around and walked away fast.
Ma climbed down from the wagon. She looked as if she’d like to walk away, too, but before she could, Callie asked, “Why would Lydia say such a thing? I don’t understand how you could have left me that way.”
Her stepmother regarded her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why are you so upset? You caught up with us, didn’t you? I’m sure Lydia didn’t do it on purpose.”
Callie clenched her fists and felt the blood rushing to her face. “That’s right, Ma, rush to her defense. You always do. Lydia lied deliberately. I know she did. Do you realize you left me in the wilderness? I might have died out there if Luke hadn’t found me.”
Ma leveled a suspicious gaze. “What’s going on between you two?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“You were out all night with a man who isn’t your husband. What are you trying to do, disgrace the family?”
Callie gasped at Ma’s remark. So outrageous. She should reply, but what was the use? Ma would never understand. Why waste her breath? She spun on her heel and started toward the tent.
“Where are you going?” Ma called.
“To bed. In case you’ve forgotten, I was up all night.”
“Callie Whitaker, you come back here and start our breakfast.”
“Not on your life, Ma.” She didn’t slow down. “If you want breakfast, fix it yourself.”
Callie’s overwhelming anger carried her out of her stepmother’s sight and into the tent, where Nellie was still asleep and Lydia, sitting up, rubbed her eyes and stretched. “What was that noise?”
Callie rolled out her bedroll and practically dived under the blankets. “It’s me. I’ve been up all night and now I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Where have you been?”
She turned to look at Lydia. “Why did you say I was at the Sawyers when you knew I wasn’t?”
“I thought you were.” Lydia shifted her eyes away. “How am I supposed to know where you are every minute?” Her lips formed a pout. “You were with Luke, weren’t you?”
“Thank God he found me.”
Lydia glared at her with hate-filled eyes. “So, you were out all night, disgracing the family.”
She’d been right. Out of malice, jealousy, whatever the reason, Lydia told a deliberate lie, knowing full well she was putting Callie’s life in danger. Even worse, Callie could scream and complain all she wanted, but it wouldn’t do her any good. She’d never get past her family’s unconcern. Other than Tommy, nobody cared.
She went to sleep, remembering what Luke said. Your family’s the same, but you’ve changed. Now you see them through different eyes. So very true. The old Callie would have apologized for taking up space on this earth. The new Callie was something else. Exactly what, she didn’t know and, at the moment, was too tired to care.
Chapter 9
Aware her complaints would fall on deaf ears, Callie refrained from any further comment concerning Lydia’s outrageous lie. Nobody said a word. Life went on as usual. Callie worked as hard as ever, only now, because of her protests, Ma and her stepsisters helped more than they had before. Still, the main burden fell on Callie’s shoulders. For the sake of peace in the family, she did her chores without complaint, speaking when spoken to. On a day-to-day basis, she coped with her stepsisters as best she could. No problem with Nellie, who seemed wrapped up in her own little world, so in love with Coy she could talk of nothing else. Lydia continued her dark glances, not so much about Luke, who stayed away, but because Magnus Ferguson had begun to seek Callie out.
One day Lydia asked, “Do you think you’ll marry Magnus?”
The question took Callie by surprise. “He’s a fine man, but right now I’m not thinking of marrying anybody.”
“You’d be a fool if you didn’t.” Lydia’s shrewish voice revealed her annoyance.
Callie took special pains to stay away from Luke, which wasn’t difficult since he made no effort to seek her out. She told herself he was deliberately staying away. It was for the best. Luke wasn’t a marrying man. Soon as he could, he’d head for the wilderness again, content to live alone. She should be overjoyed Magnus Ferguson often sought her out, but she wasn’t. Maybe she should try harder to like Magnus. Lydia was right. She’d be a fool not to marry a man so wealthy and attractive. The problem was, whenever she tried to picture herself as the wife of the esteemed Magnus Ferguson, the vision of herself in the arms of Luke McGraw blocked everything else from her mind.
As they traveled on, Callie came to realize how petty her problems were compared to the depressing sights beside the t
rail. Never a day went by that they didn’t pass hastily dug graves. Some were unmarked or had a simple wooden cross with a name. Some had a more elaborate marker that gave the cause of death. Callie read every one, always distressed by the number of ways a person could die on the trail. Death by disease was the most common, mostly cholera, typhoid, or pneumonia. Children’s deaths were the saddest, like the six-year-old boy riding on the yoke who fell off and got run over. The high number of accidental deaths continually reminded Callie of how dangerous this journey could be. Killed by a grizzly. Bitten by a rattlesnake. Drowned in the river. Shot accidentally.
One morning during breakfast, gunfire sounded from a nearby wagon, a sound so common they hardly noticed anymore. Magnus rode up soon after, a look of disgust on his face, and spoke to Pa. “One of Riley Gregg’s boys just shot himself in the foot. Once again, I’m making the rounds with a warning, Mr. Whitaker. We’ve got to stop these accidental shootings.”
Pa, who was an excellent shot and took good care of his guns, nodded in agreement. “Some of these dang fools never even saw a gun before. Now seems like every man in this train is armed. Guns all over the place, and they don’t know what they’re doing.”
“There are far too many arms on this wagon train, and far too many accidents caused by careless handling.” Magnus looked toward the campfire where Len sat finishing his breakfast. “You’d best pay attention, young man. How many guns do you have?”
Len broke into his customary cocky smirk. “Three. My colt revolver, my double barrel pistol, and my rifle.” He stuck out his chest. “I’m not a fool like some. I know how to handle them.”
“You don’t need that many guns.”
“That’s my business, ain’t it, Mr. Ferguson?”
Magnus frowned with displeasure. “You do not know how to handle them. I’ve seen you sticking your pistols in your pants with no regard to safety. That’s dangerous. You’re a menace to yourself and to others. Even the animals aren’t safe around you.”
Len’s upper lip curled with contempt. “I don’t need your advice.” He threw down his plate and stalked off.
Callie expected Magnus would be offended by the young man’s insolence. Instead, he shrugged and shook his head. “Arrogant young fool. If he gets to California without killing himself or some poor innocent soul, it’ll be a miracle.”
One day later, they had stopped for the noontime break when a shot rang out, followed by an agonized scream. Along with everyone else, Callie rushed to where Len lay on the ground clutching his stomach. Andy, his face white with shock, knelt alongside. “Len shot himself. Had his gun in his pants and was pulling it out when the dang thing went off.”
Doc Wilson was summoned. After he examined the ugly wound in Len’s stomach, he shook his head. “Won’t last the day.” He dug into his bag for a bottle of laudanum. “Give him this to ease the pain.”
They made a bed for Len. Pa and Andy pitched a tent over his head.
Andy choked back a sob. “Guess we can’t do nothing except wait for him to die.”
Wait for him to die. Callie had never thought much of Len, but hearing his screams, knowing he would soon be gone, caused a wrenching grief within her.
Magnus appeared. When he saw Len and heard what happened, a look of disgust crossed his face. “What a fool. I warned him and he didn’t listen. Serves him right.” He strode away.
How could he be so heartless? Maybe he cared and was just trying to hide his true feelings.
During the long afternoon, while the saddened company waited for Len to breathe his last, Callie, struggling with her anguished thoughts, had to get away. She saddled Duke and rode him out on the wide stretch of prairie.
Luke, on Rascal, soon rode up alongside. “Are you all right?” His voice held an infinitely compassionate tone.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “It’s not fair! He’s only twenty and full of life. He was going to California and get rich finding gold. But now… Oh, I can’t bear it.”
For a time they rode in silence, broken only by the muted sounds of hooves clopping on the hard-packed earth.
Finally, Luke leaned to one side and caught Duke’s bridal. “Stop a minute.” The horses halted. “Look around you, Callie.”
She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but she took a long look at the scene around her. A bird, likely a hawk, soared in the sky. The branches of a nearby cottonwood tree stirred in the slight breeze. A prairie dog popped its head from a hole in the ground, looked around, and popped back in again.
Luke leaned his arm across the saddle. “Here’s how I look at it. Len’s going to die. You can cry all you want, but you can’t bring him back. Before this journey’s over, you’ll see death many times, but if you waste your time grieving, you’re a softhearted fool. You can remember the good things about Len, but what’s more important is don’t let a day pass without taking a look at this beautiful land you’re passing through. Give thanks you still have your life. Live it and enjoy it as best you can.”
Amazing a man of few words like Luke could make such a speech. He never ceased to surprise her. “You could be right.”
“I know I’m right. Out of the sadness of death, we gain new strength to go on. It’s like God is testing us.”
Callie heaved a sigh. “It’s such a cruel test.”
“I know, but you will survive and be the stronger person for it. I’d like to think that I—”
She’d been listening intently and didn’t want him to stop. “Go on.”
He shook his head and looked toward the campground. “Time to get back.”
She wished he’d kept on. He was about to reveal something about himself, something kept hidden that haunted him every day of his life. Maybe someday he’d tell her. She flicked the reins. “All right, let’s get back. Poor Len.”
He had died while she’d gone for her ride. They buried him in a shallow grave under a cottonwood tree, marking the spot with a simple wooden cross. The next morning, before they began the day’s trek, Callie stopped by Len’s grave one last time. “I’ll never forget you,” she whispered, and quickly turned away. She remembered Luke’s wise words from yesterday. If you waste your time grieving, you’re a softhearted fool. He was right. She had no time to grieve. Of necessity, she’d bury her memories of Len deep in a corner of her mind, to be retrieved at another time, another place. For now, she couldn’t let herself dwell on Len’s tragic death, or think morbid thoughts, even though the farther they went, the more graves she saw alongside the trail. Back in Tennessee, she hadn’t given much thought to death and dying, but on this wagon train, they were part of her daily life. So very real.
* * * *
When Callie first met Magnus Ferguson, she had nothing but respect and admiration for the leader of the wagon train. She still did, but as the days went by, her high opinion of him sometimes faltered when she saw the ill-concealed resentment growing among his appointed captains. Magnus was too arbitrary. Didn’t listen to the opinions of others. Made bad decisions, ignoring the good advice of his captains.
One day while visiting Florida, Callie had the chance to ask Luke about the growing dissension. “What are the captains so angry about?”
“Simple. Winter’s coming and we’re not moving fast enough.”
“What do you think?”
Luke’s long pause warned his answer wouldn’t be all that reassuring. “Whether we’re going to California or Oregon, we’re in big trouble if the snow hits before we get there.”
“Magnus says we have plenty of time.”
Luke frowned. “I’ve already told you my opinion of Magnus Ferguson. You’re right. He’s in no hurry. The captains think differently. They’ve heard the horror stories about what happened to the Donner Party when they got caught in the snow.”
“Are they true?”
“Yeah, they’re true. The captains fear we’ll suffer the same fate. That’s why t
hey’re complaining our progress isn’t fast enough. The more they protest, the more that pig-headed idiot turns a deaf ear.”
Florida chimed in, “Luke, didn’t most of the Donner Party starve to death?”
“Not all, but many did.”
“And the ones that lived, didn’t they…?”
“They took to cannibalism.”
Callie stifled a gasp of horror. “You mean they…?”
“Ate the dead.” Luke’s mouth twisted wryly. “You don’t want to hear the details. Let’s hope Magnus comes to his senses, and soon.”
Callie remembered Luke’s words when, only days later, Magnus fell ill with a high fever and ordered the company to stop while he recovered. Everywhere she went, she heard complaints. Why was Magnus so special? Others had fallen just as ill and the train had kept going. After two day’s rest, Magnus recovered enough they could move on, but simmering resentments continued. By the time the train reached Fort Laramie, frayed tempers exploded when Magnus ordered a four-day halt. He had good reasons. The stock needed rest. There was blacksmithing to be done. Even so, the captains objected. That night, Callie stood with Florida and listened to a heated argument between Magnus and his captains. In the end, Magnus prevailed, but just barely.
Walking back to their wagons, Florida said, “Land’s sake! Magnus had better watch out or his high-and-mighty self will be tossed out on his you-know-what.”
Callie hoped he wouldn’t. She still admired Magnus as a leader, although there was something about him that didn’t quite ring true. But no, she must be wrong. What was she thinking? She pushed her feeling of distrust aside. Magnus Ferguson was as fine a man as they came. She’d be disloyal to think otherwise. Besides, his personal interest in her continued. Any day now, she might find herself in love with him, if only she could forget about Luke.
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