* * * *
After resting for four days, the company continued on from Fort Laramie. Despite her truce with her family, Callie lived for the moments she could slip away to Florida’s wagon where she was always greeted with open arms and treated like a welcome friend. She kept up her lessons, her reading skills increasing every day. By now she’d graduated from primers. With Florida’s help, she was reading Nathanial Hawthorne’s, The Scarlet Letter. She never realized the pleasure one could find in books until she became deeply engrossed in the problems of poor Hester Prynne and her illegitimate child. Also, her stolen moments away from her family gave her more chances to talk with Luke. Other than their ride together the day Len died, he hadn’t paid her any special attention. Often, though, they talked together by the Sawyer campfire, always when others were around.
One day Florida was driving the wagon. Callie sat beside her, admiring the skillful way her friend handled the oxen. “I wish Pa would let me drive, but he says it’s a man’s job.”
Florida chuckled. “That’s rich! Your pa has some crazy notions.”
“It looks like fun.”
“I don’t know if having to look at an oxen’s behind all day is a whole lot of fun, but—” Florida’s face lit with a sudden revelation. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Honey, you’re going to learn to drive this wagon, and I’m going to teach you.”
Callie jumped at the chance. Soon she was handling the reins with ease, yelling getup! whoa! gee! and haw! as if she’d done it for years, cracking the whip smartly over the oxen’s heads. After only a few days’ lessons, she became a real help, spelling Florida with the driving. She wished she could offer her help to Pa but didn’t dare suggest it. She already knew what he’d say.
By now, Callie was enjoying herself. No longer did she feel awkward and out of place. These were people she knew, and they liked her. The men paid more attention to her now. At the nightly campfires, she never lacked for dancing partners. Magnus Ferguson never let a night pass by that he didn’t ask her to dance several times. Sometimes she caught him watching her intently. She still marveled at his interest, finding it hard to believe the esteemed leader of the wagon train could be interested in an uneducated farm girl from Tennessee. He was, though. So far, she’d been friendly and nothing more, but she knew in her heart if ever she signaled she liked him especially, he might propose.
* * * *
Late one afternoon, Callie and her stepsisters were combing the prairie looking for buffalo chips when Nellie burst out ecstatically, “I have news. You would never guess.”
“Uh-oh,” Lydia answered. “I’d wager I can guess.”
“I’m going to have a baby.” Nellie pressed her palms to her stomach. “Coy’s baby. I’ve never been this happy in my whole life.”
Oh, no. Callie couldn’t smile. She tried to keep her dismay from showing. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Does Ma know?”
“Not yet.”
“I won’t even ask if Pa knows.”
Nellie laughed with giddy unconcern. “Of course he doesn’t know yet. I don’t plan to tell him until our plans are set.”
“Have you told Coy?”
“I plan to this very day.”
Lydia, too, looked doubtful. “How do you know he wants to marry you?”
“Are you daft?” Once again, the usually sullen Nellie broke into joyous laughter. “Coy adores me. He’ll jump at the chance.”
Apparently convinced, Lydia broke into a smile. “Nellie, that’s wonderful. We’ll have the wedding right here in camp. Reverend Wilkins can marry you. Afterward, we’ll have a grand party to celebrate.”
“How perfect! What should I wear?” Nellie’s eyes sparkled with happiness. Callie had never seen her so excited.
Callie kept silent while her two gleeful stepsisters discussed Nellie’s wedding plans. She wished she could join in the excitement. From the bottom of her heart, she hoped Nellie was right and Coy Barnett would jump at the chance to lead her to the altar, but a nagging uncertainty prevented her from sharing Nellie’s joy.
That night, an especially buoyant group joined together around the campfire with more than one reason to celebrate. They had traveled more than twenty-five miles on an easy trail. Best of all, they’d reached Independence Rock, the most noted landmark along the way. The site was a popular stopover for the trains headed west. Tomorrow they would spend the day adding their signatures to the thousands already scratched into the sturdy granite.
At one point during the evening, Callie saw Nellie disappear with Coy Barnett, no doubt so she could tell him her news. She hoped for the best. Please, let it be all right. Much later, Nellie returned, her face wreathed with a smile. “I told him,” she whispered to Lydia and Callie. “He’s so happy he’s about to burst. We’re going to get married.”
Lydia clapped her hands with delight. “That’s wonderful. When?”
“Tomorrow night, but don’t say anything yet. I’m going to talk to Ma and Pa first thing tomorrow. Then Coy’s coming over. He’s got to talk to Pa. You know, ask for my hand.”
Callie asked, “Do you think Pa will approve?”
“He’d better. If he doesn’t agree, I’m counting on Coy to talk him into it. After all, I’m twenty-three. I’ve got a right to marry whoever I please.” Nellie’s newfound bravado caused her to break into a wide, happy smile. “If worse comes to worse, I’ll tell him he’s going to be a grandpa. That’ll change his mind in a hurry.” She turned accusing eyes on Callie. “You thought Coy wouldn’t marry me, but you were wrong, weren’t you?”
“Looks like I was.” Callie was only too happy to agree.
The next morning, Nellie, brimming with excitement, asked Lydia and Callie to make themselves scarce during the first break of the day because that’s when she was going to tell Ma and Pa. They readily agreed and strolled to Florida’s wagon when the train stopped for the morning break.
“You girls look all excited,” Florida commented when they settled themselves outside her wagon. “What’s going on?”
Lydia smiled. “Nellie and Coy Barnett are getting married. She’s telling Ma and Pa right now.”
“Lordy me, that is exciting news.” Callie caught the hesitancy in the older woman’s voice. “When?”
“If Reverend Wilkins agrees, it’ll be tonight. Everyone’s invited to the wedding…”
While Lydia rattled on in her scatterbrained fashion, Callie and Florida exchanged guarded glances. Callie could plainly see her friend was just as wary as she was and no doubt guessed the reason for such a hasty wedding. Lydia was still chattering away when Callie caught sight of Gert Gowdy headed toward them from across the encampment. Even at a distance, Callie could tell from the woman’s long, purposeful strides she was angry.
Gert arrived at the Sawyer wagon. “He’s gone.” She stood with clenched fists. “I want Luke to go after him.”
“Go after who?” Florida asked.
“My hired hand, Coy Barnett, that’s who! That little weasel ran off during the night. He’s gone, no warning, no nothing! Who’s gonna drive our cattle?”
Luke appeared. “How do you know he’s gone for good, Gert? Maybe he—”
“Coy’s gone. Took all his gear and lit out. Never even waited for his wages. Go after him, Luke. Bring him back. He can’t do this.”
Luke shook his head. “Sorry, Gert, but he’s within his rights to leave if he wants. I can’t force him to come back.”
Lydia gave a little cry of realization. “Oh, no!” She slapped a hand over her mouth.
The awful truth struck Callie, too. Coy’s gone…Nellie! She leaped to her feet. “There’s something I’ve got to do.” Not waiting for an answer, she hiked up her skirt and started running across the field toward her wagon, fast as her feet would carry her, Lydia close behind. She had to get there before Nellie had a chance to talk to Ma and Pa.
* * * *
> Luke watched as Gert, still angry, stomped back across the field to her wagon. “She’ll be all right once she calms down. I’ll see she gets enough help. Coy won’t be missed much, if at all.”
Florida wrinkled her nose with disgust. “Good riddance to him. I swear, that man was as randy as a goat, chasing after half the women in this train.” She looked toward the Whitakers’ wagon across the way. “Oh, dear. Nellie’s in such big trouble.”
Luke remained silent. As always, he avoided gossip like the plague, even when talking with his sister. She was right, though. Coy and Nellie had been sneaking off to the woods for weeks. It all fit. Even Callie and Lydia rushing off like they did came as no surprise. It was obvious they were in a hurry to tell Nellie the news about Coy. What a mess. Caleb Whitaker’s family lived in fear of him, and rightly so. God help any daughter of his who got herself pregnant out of wedlock. “Better say a prayer for poor Nellie.”
Florida clucked with sympathy. “Those Whitakers, a strange family if ever there was one. The only one I feel sorry for is Callie. I don’t envy her having to live with that bunch. She deserves better.”
Luke responded with a noncommittal nod. Smart though she was, his sister had no idea what went on inside his head. A good thing, too, considering how he kept reliving the night he held Callie Whitaker in his arms and they had nearly made love. He’d wanted Callie so bad he was barely able to restrain himself. He’d done the right thing, but even now, was there ever a time when she wasn’t on his mind? Just the other day he caught himself wondering where she was. It was then he’d realized how he kept track of her whereabouts every minute of the day. Crazy. He’d better get over it. He didn’t want a woman in his life, not now, not ever.
He smiled at his sister. The white cap on her head, the one she always wore, was a constant reminder of that terrible day that changed his life and hers, too. The never-to-be-forgotten day carved deep into his memory.
* * * *
When Callie arrived, gasping for breath, her stepsister and stepparents stood by the wagon. It looked as though Nellie was about to speak.
“Nellie!” Callie gasped for breath, her chest heaving. “I need to talk to you right away. It’s something private.”
Ma and Pa regarded her as if she’d gone berserk. Nellie cast her a scathing glance. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now? As you very well know.”
Lydia arrived, equally breathless, and gasped, “Nellie, we need to discuss something.”
Ma scowled. “What’s this all about?”
“Nothing important.” Callie sent Nellie the most significant look she could muster. “Whatever you were planning can wait. We need you right now, this instant.”
“All right then.” Nellie frowned with annoyance. “I’ll come with you since you insist, but you’d better have a good explanation.”
Callie and Lydia led Nellie away from the wagon, leaving Ma and Pa with puzzled expressions. By the time they reached a nearby strand of woods, Callie’s mind was racing. Up to now, she’d acted on instinct, thinking only that she must stop Nellie before she talked to Ma and Pa. But now what? Her heart sank. Nellie had to hear the awful truth, and hear it right now. She turned to Lydia. “Will you tell her?”
Her stepsister’s eyes widened with alarm. “Me? Oh, no, I couldn’t. You tell her.”
Callie should have remembered her flighty stepsister avoided disagreeable scenes as much as possible. No time to argue.
They reached a secluded spot beside a little stream. As they settled themselves on the moss-covered bank, Callie said, “There’s no easy way to say this.”
Nellie stared at her, baffled. “What’s this all about?”
“I’ll have to tell you flat-out. Coy’s gone for good. Gert says he lit out and took all his gear. He’s not coming back.”
The blood drained from Nellie’s face. “You’re lying.”
Her response was what Callie had expected. “Why would I tell such a horrible lie? It’s the truth, I’m afraid, and I’m terribly sorry.”
“He’s really gone?”
“Gone. I doubt you’ll ever see him again.”
Nellie looked toward Lydia. “Is this true?”
Her sister returned a slow, silent nod.
“Oh, my God.” Tears rolled down Nellie’s cheeks. She regarded Callie, eyes wide with desperation. “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought he loved me. I know he loved me. How could he have run off that way?”
“I can’t imagine why he would do such a terrible thing.” Because he’s a no-good low-life. Mercifully, she kept the truth to herself.
“If Pa finds out, and he will, he’ll kill me.” Nellie buried her face in her hands and started to sob.
Callie reached to pat her stepsister on her shoulder, a useless gesture, considering the circumstances, but what else could she do? Nellie had gotten herself in deep trouble. Callie had no solutions and couldn’t see there were any. “Pa’s not going to kill you.” It was hard to sound convincing when she suspected he very well might.
Frowning with concern, Lydia took her sister’s hands. “I’m so, so sorry, Nellie.”
“I can’t believe it,” Nellie cried.
“But it’s true, I’m afraid,” Lydia replied. “That no good skunk!”
“What shall I do?” Nellie’s voice shook. “When Pa finds out, if he doesn’t kill me, he’ll throw me out. I’ll be disgraced. I’ll have no place to go.” Her voice rose to ever-higher levels of desperation. “I’ll have to kill myself.”
“You will do no such thing, you hear me?” Callie got to her feet and began to pace. “We’ll think of something.” Over Nellie’s quivering, sobbing form, she exchanged troubled looks with Lydia. Both remembered Pa’s rants over the years, his dire threats should any of his daughters so much as let a man touch them, let alone allow a man to do the unthinkable and “get herself in trouble.” Callie dreaded to even think of his rage when he discovered a daughter of his was pregnant. He could indeed cause her bodily harm. Even if he didn’t, Nellie was right. Most likely he’d throw her out. Where would she go? Nellie would have a hard time finding anyone who would take her in. Her snobbish, superior attitude had made her no friends among the members of the wagon train.
Nellie’s sobs stopped. She looked up with a surprising trace of a smile on her lips. “I just thought of something.”
Callie asked, “What?”
“He’s coming back.”
“What do you mean?”
Nellie wiped her eyes. “I remember now. Just the other day Coy said he wished he could find a faster way to California. This wagon train’s been moving awfully slow, you know.”
“So?” Where is this leading?
“So, isn’t it obvious? Coy’s gone off to search for a wagon to buy so we can go off on our own. Or maybe join a wagon train that’s faster than this one.”
Callie exchanged incredulous glances with Lydia over Nellie’s head. “I don’t think so, Nellie. I know it’s a shock, but you’ve got to accept that he’s not coming back.”
“That’s not so!” Nellie’s eyes blazed with purpose. “He is coming back. I know he is.”
Lydia shook her head. “Sister, I don’t think—”
“I don’t want to hear another word.” Nellie rose to her feet, fists clenched. “Coy’s coming back. Now you leave me alone.” She darted away, leaving Callie and Lydia staring at each other in dismay.
“What can we do?” asked Lydia.
“There’s nothing we can do, except wait until she comes to her senses.”
* * * *
After one day’s rest, the train headed out from Independence Rock, next stop South Pass and the Sweetwater River. Despite the generally happy mood of the campers, Callie heard grumbles. According to legend, they had needed to reach Independence Rock by July fourth if they wanted to get to their destinations before the snow fell. It was now August fou
rth. Although the grumbling continued, Magnus Ferguson, using his jovial persuasive skills, convinced most of the members they had plenty of time to get where they were going and therefore had nothing to worry about.
During the following days, nothing Callie or Lydia could say would change Nellie’s belief Coy would return. If anything, she looked happier than she ever had before, sullen pout gone, her eyes ever alert for that inevitable moment when Coy would reappear and whisk her away to the grand life she imagined would be hers.
A week went by. The company stopped for the day near Devil’s Gate on the Sweetwater River and circled the wagons not far from another, much larger, wagon train which they learned was called the Donovan Train. Callie was cleaning up after supper when Luke passed by and remarked, “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Callie stopped to watch as three men rode over from the Donovan Train and into the center of their camp. How solemn-faced they were, as if they weren’t riding over for a friendly visit but something deadly serious. She, along with many in the camp, drew closer as Luke, Magnus Ferguson, and the captains gathered around a tall, broad-shouldered man with the look of authority about him. “I’m Sam Donovan and these are two of my captains from our train.”
Magnus stepped forward. He introduced Luke and his captains then offered the hospitality of the camp.
“Can’t stay.” Donovan and his unsmiling companions remained mounted. “We have come on a serious matter.”
“Go on, Mister Donovan.”
“Tomorrow morning we will have a trial. We’re looking for jurors to volunteer.”
“What kind of trial?”
“Murder.”
Murder. A stirring ran through the crowd. Callie brought her hand to her heart. The very sound of the word alarmed her. Beside her, Nellie stiffened. “How awful,” she whispered.
Magnus asked, “What kind of murder, Mister Donovan? Can you give us the details?”
“It’s a sad affair, Colonel Ferguson.” Donovan cast a quick glance to where Callie and the other women of the camp stood listening. “It’s not one I relish discussing in front of the ladies, but the fact is, this morning one of our members was gunned down in cold blood. The man who murdered him was a member of your wagon train. In all fairness, we decided to let you know, in case you’d care to supply jurors for his trial.”
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