The trapper stood with an easy smile, hands by his sides, making no threatening moves toward the knife. He regarded the hostile man much as he would a bug, deciding whether or not to squash it. “I’ll wager a horn of Monongahela whiskey you won’t find gold on the ground in California.” His smile widened. “Now you have a choice. You can accept my bet or you can choose to call me a liar again. Which will it be, sir?”
In the taut silence that followed, Lucy watched as the red-bearded man twice opened his mouth to speak then thought better of it. No wonder. Clint Palance had retained his quiet, conversational voice; his smile seemed genuine, yet the ominous set of his chin and the hard glint deep in his eyes suggested only a fool would tangle with him.
Apparently, Red Beard thought the same. With a face-saving shrug, as if he weren’t the least concerned, he backed a step away. “I don’t want no trouble.” He spun around. Amidst an audible murmur of relief from the crowd, he walked away.
Bessie’s gaze followed him. “Mercy me, did you see that? I think Mister Palance is a little ... a little ...”
“Frightening?” Lucy said.
Bessie nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s exactly right, a little frightening, and certainly not a man I would invite into my parlor.” She paused for a thoughtful moment. “On the other hand, there’s something about him … you must admit he’s devilish handsome.” Bessie gazed at Clint Palance with admiring eyes. “Don’t you think so?”
“He’s all right.” Lucy wasn’t sure why she concealed her true feelings when actually she found him most intriguing, as well as handsome. “How do you suppose he got that scar on his cheek?”
“They say ’t’was a grizzly bear. Imagine!”
No, she couldn’t imagine. All she knew was that in her entire sheltered, tranquil life, she’d never witnessed such a scene. She felt greatly relieved it had ended peaceably. As the questions resumed, she wanted nothing more than to get away from this disturbing man in buckskins. She moved in close, to where Jacob stood, and tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go inside.”
Abner, who stood next to him, shook his head. “I think we should hear this.”
“So do I,” Jacob replied.
Lucy concealed her chagrin. Why, again, did her husband show this sudden interest in California? Something cautioned her not to ask; then she silently laughed at her foolishness. Jacob was a prosperous farmer, thoroughly content with his life. Never in a million years would he uproot them to join the foolhardy stampede to the West.
Chapter 2
The potluck was over, thank God. Outside the church, Clint Palance stood alone and impatient in the weak, early spring sunshine. He was staying at the Potts farm and was anxious to return. He had much to do before the wagons bearing the Potts family and their possessions left for Independence, along with the three other families who had joined the trek west. They would pick up others along the way.
As he waited, a slender woman with thick brownish-red hair piled atop her head burst through the church door and started down the steps. Ah, Mrs. Schneider. When he first laid eyes on her, only hours ago in the churchyard, he felt a tug of excitement. Now here it came again. Funny. These days, rare was the woman who stirred his interest. During his years as a trapper, when he spent months in his isolated mountain cabin, he set his mind not to think about women. Had himself convinced he didn’t need a woman in his life and never would. Now, back in civilization, he hadn’t changed. Sure, from time to time he dallied with the occasional woman, but not the kind you married. Never would he be the kind of man who married, had a passel of kids, and settled into a life of boredom and, as far as he was concerned, entrapment. Still ...
Something about Mrs. Jacob Schneider caught his eye. Among the farm women here today, she stood out like a rose among thorns. Slender figure ... bright blue, wide-set eyes ... full red lips ... small, straight nose with its perky tilt. He could hardly keep his eyes off her.
A while ago he’d been amused when she clutched her husband’s arm, sending out that silly “I’m not available” signal. Like he couldn’t have figured that out. Too bad she was married. Wait. Why should he care? Leading the Potts’ party safely to California was all he cared about. He wouldn’t allow any female, married or single, to clutter up his mind.
She reached the bottom of the steps. “Mister Palance.” She gave a polite nod. Nose in the air, she was about to sail right by.
Oh, no, she wouldn’t. “Mrs. Jacob Schneider!” His voice rang out extra loud.
She stopped and turned her head. “You know my name?”
“I made it my business to know your name.”
“Oh.”
Good. He could tell she was caught off guard and stuck for an answer. “I’ve been talking to your husband.” She turned to face him—one hell of a beautiful woman.
“You talked to Jacob?” She raised an eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t trying to persuade him to join John Potts and head for California.”
“Why is that?”
“Because ...”
He could easily see her struggle to remain polite and keep her mouth shut, but temptation triumphed.
“I think it’s insane. All these people leaving the only life they’ve ever known to take off on a wild goose chase for gold.”
“It’s not entirely the gold. Many plan to settle the land, make new lives for themselves.”
“New lives?” Her large blue eyes snapped with displeasure. “How can they leave family and friends behind? Go all that way, in all that danger, and for what? What will they find in the West they don’t already have right here?”
Clint shrugged. “It’s not for everyone.”
“It most assuredly is not, sir. Mister Schneider and I are quite content where we are. In fact, I doubt I shall ever set foot outside of Suffolk County.”
He cut off the sharp words that sprung to his lips. Long ago he’d learned there were times it was best to keep his mouth shut.
She tipped her head. “Are you originally from the East?”
“Kentucky.”
“A beautiful state, I hear. If you don’t mind my asking, why do you make that fearsome journey west time after time? Why can’t you stay in Kentucky where it’s civilized?”
He could hardly keep from laughing at this prim young matron with her narrow, wrong-headed view of life. Maybe she came from a wealthy background, but he sure hadn’t. He’d had a hellish childhood back in Kentucky, all because of a father who thought he needed a beating every day.
“Why don’t I stay in your beautiful civilized East?” He repeated the question to gain time while his mind raced west in a lightning journey, soaring over the open plains with their astonishing sightings of tens of thousands of galloping buffalo; over pristine lakes, streams, and forests never seen or touched by a white man; over the mighty snowcapped peaks of the great mountain ranges, to the edge of the continent where he’d stood and watched in fascination the giant waves of the Pacific crash against the rocky shore.
How could he describe the beauty of a land she’d never seen?
There was no way to describe it, no way she would understand unless she saw for herself.
He shrugged matter-of-factly. “I go west to catch the sunset.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s the best explanation I can give you. West to catch the sunset. If you’re wondering, I have yet to catch it. I probably never will.”
* * *
He was smiling at her. For the next few moments, Lucy found herself speechless, gazing like an idiot into Clint Palance’s deep brown eyes. His answer had caught her unprepared. She hadn’t thought a man who wore buckskins, carried a huge knife, bore the mark of a grizzly upon his cheek, and doubtless had no idea of sophisticated culture, could possibly say something so imaginative. Still, even if he had, he was not of her world and never would be. “Well, Mister Palance, it seems you know your goal in life.”
“Seems I do.”
“I know mine, and that�
�s to stay right where I am and not go traipsing across the country after a foolish dream.”
“Well said, Mrs. Schneider. I wouldn’t dream of attempting to change your mind.” With a smile and slight bow he touched the brim of his hat and backed away. “Good day.”
Disturbed by their conversation, Lucy watched Clint Palance walk away. She wasn’t sure why she was disturbed, except she found him unlike any man she’d ever known. At least he spoke well and knew his manners—which was unexpected—yet she sensed the raw, ruthless power that lurked directly underneath all that politeness. The man with the red beard had sensed it, too, and skulked away, tail between his legs.
Jacob appeared. “You ready?”
Oh, yes, she was ready and very much wanted to get back to her home, garden, and lovely quiet life.
On the buggy ride home, Lucy felt a gush of affection for her husband. She snuggled close, tucking her arm beneath his. “We have much to be thankful for.”
Jacob held the reins in his hand. “Indeed.” He gave a solemn nod, his eyes focused on the road.
She had not expected more. In the months since they had married, she had gradually come to realize that the attentive man who’d won her hand no longer existed. She hadn’t expected Jacob would remain an ardent suitor, yet she hadn’t dreamed he’d grow more taciturn, a man with little humor. Perish the thought, but more like his brother every day. Even so, as the months went by, she made every effort to look at his good qualities and forget the bad.
Although ...
Now and then she remembered what Sarah had said shortly after her marriage. “You’ll love married life. I cannot describe what Daniel does to me. It’s just so wonderful.” A blush crept over Sarah’s cheeks. “You might say I get carried away on the wings of love, if you know what I mean.”
No, she did not know what Sarah meant. Because of her sister’s glowing words, Lucy had assumed her wedding night would open the door to a lifetime of blissful nights where she, too, would be carried away on the wings of love. Ha! Such was not the case. Sarah had rhapsodized about “those joyous hours of passion,” but Lucy found that about one not-so-joyous minute practically every night would be more like it. After that, Jacob would quickly roll over and go to sleep, leaving her wondering what on earth Sarah was talking about.
Still, she loved Jacob. After all, she couldn’t ask for a better provider. Not only that, his honesty and integrity gave him great stature in the community. At gatherings, she always experienced a swell of pride when she stood by her handsome husband’s side, sharing the looks of admiration and respect cast his way. Then, too, there was little Noah. She was grateful to Jacob every day that he trusted her to be the mother to his adorable little boy.
Of course, Jacob could be more generous. He’d been the soul of generosity at first but lately had pinched every penny. All things considered, she was happy with her life and grateful to Jacob for making it so.
“I feel so sorry for Bessie,” she remarked as the buggy rolled along.
He slanted a glance. “Why?”
How could he possibly not know? “Bessie doesn’t want to go to California.”
A frown crossed Jacob’s face. “Why not?”
“How would you feel if you had a perfectly fine home and six children to raise, nearly seven, and all of a sudden you’re forced to live in a tiny wagon for months and months with all sorts of dangers? And end up, if you ever get there, thousands of miles away from home?”
“It’s her husband’s wish.” Jacob cracked the whip sharply, as if to convey a message that the subject should be at an end.
She wouldn’t let it end, not yet. “Would you do that to me?”
“Do what?” He stared straight ahead in that maddeningly detached way of his.
“Sell the farm and move west.”
He turned his head and looked down his nose at her. “We have a good life right here. You know what Abner says.” With a snap of the reins, he recited in the ponderous voice she was now so familiar with, “Psalm twenty-three, Verse five: ‘My cup runneth over.’ ”
Despite her growing annoyance at Jacob’s increasingly excessive recitation of the scriptures, she felt better. She hadn’t realized it, but Jacob’s obvious interest in Clint Palance had caused her unconsciously to worry. Now she felt at ease. My cup runneth over. Yes, she should remember that and remind herself every day what a fine, satisfying life she led as the wife of Jacob Schneider.
Days later, Lucy began to suspect she was harboring a wonderful secret. She waited, not saying a word to Jacob or anyone. Two weeks went by, weeks she spent in a state of ecstatic expectation, each day fearing she would find the tell-tale sign that would prove her wrong. It never appeared, and when one day she noticed how her breasts were swollen, and how she felt nauseous in the morning when she arose, she knew for certain a baby was on the way.
Boy or girl? Which room would be the nursery? Her mind churned with questions and plans. When should she give Jacob the exciting news? She could hardly wait. Joyously, she pictured how happy he’d be, how delighted that he might soon have another son.
That night she put Noah to bed early and waited until she and Jacob sat down for supper. She planned on waiting until the end of the meal, but as soon as she sat down, she could contain herself no longer. “Jacob, I have news.” Heart pounding, she fixed her gaze across the table and awaited his answer.
With maddening slowness, Jacob placed a large scoop of mashed potatoes on his plate, then covered it with gravy. “What’s your news?”
“I am with child!” She couldn’t prevent the way her words bubbled or the happy smile that wreathed her face. As it was, she wanted to run around the table and hug him tight but knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t approve.
“Are you sure?” His expression hadn’t changed.
“Very sure.”
“Hmm.” He took a sip of water. He dipped his fork into the mashed potatoes and took another bite.
What was wrong? Why wasn’t he beside himself with delight? As she waited, she thought her heart would pound its way right out of her chest. “Jacob, answer me. What’s wrong? Don’t you think it’s wonderful?”
Jacob finally laid down his fork. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Concern flickered through her. Whatever was coming, it wouldn’t be good.
“Abner and I have sold the farm. We’re going with the Potts’ wagon train to California.”
Chapter 3
As the full meaning of Jacob’s words sunk in, Lucy gasped and gripped the edge of the table. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“You lied to me!”
His voice was cold and exact. “Don’t you dare call me a liar. Negotiations to sell the farm took time. I wasn’t going to have you nagging at me. It was best you didn’t know.”
“You have actually sold the farm?” she asked in a suffocated whisper. Perhaps she hadn’t heard right.
“It’s gone.”
“I cannot believe this.”
Jacob shrugged. “Abner and I made a joint decision. We have three weeks to move. Actually—” Jacob settled back comfortably in his chair, looking as if he were discussing the weather, “we plan on leaving sooner. As you know, the Potts’ party is undoubtedly well on their way to Independence by now. When they arrive, they must wait for the end of the inclement weather. That gives us time to catch up. Although we have no time to lose if we want to reach them before they leave for California.”
The truth dawned. “This is Abner’s doing, isn’t it? He was the one who wanted to go, not you.”
“I said it was a joint decision.”
“No, it wasn’t. You always do what your brother wants. You never stand up for yourself.”
Jacob’s face grew white with anger. “Shut your mouth. I’ve heard enough.”
Shock yielded to fury. “Why is it I had no say in the matter?”
He looked surprised. “I am you
r husband. I make the decisions, not you.”
“The baby!” She knew she was screeching, but she didn’t care. “How can I live in a wagon these next few months? Out in the open, never having a roof over my head? Well, I can’t do it. It’s impossible; the last thing in the world I ever would have wanted.”
Jacob nodded, maddeningly calm. “I admit, the timing is unfortunate. Even if I had known, I wouldn’t have changed my plans. I know it won’t be easy. In talking to Mister Palance, I gather women must take on a huge burden on these treks west. However, I won’t be hiring extra help and will expect you to do your share, baby or no.”
She felt herself shaking with anger, so distraught she could hardly speak. “I won’t go.”
“You are my wife. You will go.”
“You’ll have to drag me.”
He returned an expression of pained tolerance. “Perhaps you’d best reconsider. You can’t stay here. The farm is sold. You’d be without support of any kind, that is,” his mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile, “unless you return to your father and your beloved Pernelia. I know how happy you’d be, living under her roof again.”
How did he know? She had never revealed her desperation to escape the clutches of her stepmother. Jacob wasn’t stupid. Somehow he must have guessed.
“How long have you and Abner been planning this?”
“Haven’t you noticed the price of apples these days?”
“You mean the farm’s been losing money?”
“Three years in a row.”
The awful truth dawned on her. “You planned this before we were even married and never said a word?”
“The Lord spoke to Abner. He told him we must go.” Jacob cast a pious glance upward toward heaven. “Jeremiah forty-two, Verse six: ‘Whether it be good, or whether it be evil, we will obey the voice of the Lord.’ ”
“Well, the Lord never said a word to me!”
Jacob rose from the table. “I suggest you go to Boston tomorrow. See what your father has to say about a wife who refuses to obey her husband. Meanwhile, you might want to look up Genesis three, Verse sixteen, ‘Thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.’ ”
Heartbreak Trail Page 2
