by Danni Roan
Swinging into the saddle he turned toward the prairie and started out looking for a sign of deer. He was surprised at how well things had been going so far for the train. They had about another month of travel before they would go their separate ways, and he hoped that things continued on well.
Even Chad had been staying out of trouble for the most part, and Spencer knew it was largely due to the watchful eye of Mrs. Hampton and Miss Owens.
The morning warmed as Spencer rode farther afield scouting and watching for any indication of deer. Fresh meat would go a long way with a small train like this, and he hoped he would have good luck.
About mid morning he came on a small game trail and eased his rifle from its scabbard.
***
“Chad you get away from the edge of the water now,” Mrs. Hampton called waving at the young boy who was standing on the edge of the river. In a quieter spot some of the other children were splashing under the watchful eye of their mothers, but here where they were doing wash the water was faster, and she didn’t want him to fall in.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ wrong,” the boy sassed. “I’m just looking for fish,” he finished.
Mrs. Hampton turned the garment in her hand slapping it onto the wide rock beside her as she scrubbed the dirt and trail dust from it only to scream when a loud splash made her turn her head.
Chad had stepped too close to the edge and had toppled into the river.
“Help, help!” Mrs. Hampton cried but before she had finished her call for help Daliah had plunged into the river, fully dressed, grasping the boy by the britches and hauling him to shore.
“I think Mrs. Hampton told you not to get too close,” Daliah spluttered as she placed the boy on dry land then hauled herself and her sodden skirts from the cold water. “I had not planned on doing my wash with me in it,” she finished giving the boy a stern look.
Chad climbed to his feet shaking the water from his hair. “I would have been all right,” he insisted.
“So you can swim?” Daliah said, placing her hands on her hips.
“Well not proper yet,” Chad admitted, “but I’ll learn.”
Daliah turned to look at Mrs. Hampton who was getting herself back under control. “I’ll take him to the lead wagon and see if there are clean clothes there for him,” she said quietly, wringing out her skirt disgustedly.
It was bad enough she had burnt her hand the night before keeping the boy from falling into the fire, now she was soaked from head to toe and would have to find clean clothes for both of them.
“Chad you do realize that when you don’t listen to the adults here, you are putting yourself in danger don’t you?” Daliah said, as together they trudged back to the wagon.
“Well my pa can do anything, so why can’t I?” Chad bristled.
“Because you are only a boy,” Daliah said gently. “You have to grow into a man before you can do all of the things your Pa does.”
Chad looked up at Daliah seriously. He was cold and wet and falling in the river had scared him more than he was willing to admit. He was glad Daliah had been there to help him and perhaps he should listen to her a little more. Well as long as she didn’t ruin his fun.
He and his pa had been just fine before they took off on this wagon train, and they would be just fine when all the other people around now had gone away. No one stayed long. They never stayed anywhere long. It was just him and his Pa that was all that mattered.
Daliah looked down at the boy who trudged along the path beside her. He didn’t make friends easily, often fighting and arguing or taking the other children’s things. He didn’t listen well or follow instructions either for that matter. Perhaps in time he would trust her enough to know she was just trying to look out for him.
They had just made the break to the wagons when a horse approached and Mr. Gaines pulled up in front of them, the carcass of a deer draped across his saddle bows.
“What happened to you?” he asked looking at the half-drowned rats before him.
“I fell in,” Chad said grinning, “and Daliah pulled me out.”
Spencer looked at the young woman his eyes growing wide. “Thank you,” he said, grateful that for the second time in as many days she had kept his son from harm.
“Anyone would have done the same,” Daliah said. “I’m glad that I was near.”
Spencer ran a hand behind his neck and cringed. Was the woman criticizing him for being gone? They had needed fresh meat, and he had delivered.
“Daliah you go get yourself into something dry,” Mrs. Hampton said, walking over and draping a blanket over Chad’s shoulders. “You hand down that deer, and me and Orville will get it butchered while you get this boy changed,” she finished giving Mr. Gaines a curt nod.
Spencer nodded. He would be glad when this trail had ended, and he could start building a proper home for his son.
An hour later with the help of some of the other women and her husband, Mrs. Hampton had a roast turning on a spit as the savory smell of fresh venison roasting over an open fire filled the area as folks gathered around preparing special dishes to share.
A festive atmosphere seemed to spring to life with the fresh meat, and soon everyone was pulling together to finish chores before sharing a meal.
“What can I help with?” Daliah asked, returning to the fire and hanging her wet dress nearby.
“I think Mr. Woolsey was complaining about his lumbago,” Mr. Hampton said. “Why don’t you go along and see about him while I get supper ready tonight. Your ointment might help him.”
Daliah nodded, returning to the wagon for the few items she had brought with her. Her mother had been gifted with home remedies, and she had learned how to use them to good effect by helping her mother on the trip west.
Already several of the women in the wagon train had asked her for headache powders, or ointment to sooth scraped or chapped hands.
Daliah was glad that she could do something to make others more comfortable. She only wished she didn’t have the cloud of doubt hanging over her head after the unpleasantness at the bank.
There were still those who felt that if she hadn’t done anything wrong, she wouldn’t have been dismissed. One man, traveling without his family, had even gone so far as to ask her where she’d hidden the extra money.
By the time Daliah had helped Mr. Woolsey rub the ointment on his aching shoulder and wrapped it in warm flannel, dinner was ready and she returned to the fire amidst the laughter and cheerful babble of the rest of the wagon train.
Stepping up to the fire Daliah automatically began serving others, but when Mr. Hampton told her to fix her plate and take a seat, she did as she was asked. Every day Daliah thanked the good Lord for the Hamptons. She didn’t know what would have become of her without them.
“You can sit with me,” Chad said patting the log next to him as he scooted closer to his father.
“Thank you,” Daliah said. It was jarring how sometimes the boy had such nice manners, and other times he seemed to run like a wild animal completely un-tethered.
“Is something wrong with old Mr. Woolsey?” Spencer asked, scooping up a fork full of potatoes and crisp roast meat.
“Just his lumbago,” Daliah said. “Nothing to worry about if he keeps it warm tonight. He should be right as rain tomorrow.”
Spencer looked up out of habit gazing at the stars to judge the weather for the next day. He hoped there wouldn’t be any rain the next day.
“What are you looking for?” Daliah asked, gazing up at the sparkle of stars above.
“Checkin’ the weather,” Spencer said roughly. “I’m hoping we won’t end up with too much rain. The prairie gets muddy and slows everything down.”
“Have you been across this way before?” Daliah asked.
“A time or two,” Spencer admitted. “My brother has a small cattle spread down in Texas and we stopped there a couple of years ago. It was pretty rough at the time though, and with Chad to think of, I moved on.”
<
br /> “But you’re going back now?” Daliah was curious as to the man’s intentions. He was quiet, bossy, and taciturn, but she still felt something in him that was familiar. A sense of loneliness and longing that if she were honest echoed in her own soul.
“Seems a few of the ranches in the area are hoping to get a town started,” Spencer said. “That’s why we’re all headed that way instead of to Oregon. There’s been talk the past couple of years about bringing a railroad to Texas, and when that happens, men like my brother won’t have to push their herds all the way up the Chisholm Trail to sell.”
“That sounds difficult,” Daliah agreed, not even noticing when Chad reached up and stole her corn bread. “Do they lose many cows that way?”
“A few,” Spencer said. “Long horns move pretty good and can feed well on the drive, but there are still rustlers, stampedes, and swollen rivers to deal with.”
Daliah laid her hand over her heart. “It sounds like a dangerous job,” she said.
Spencer shrugged wide shoulders pulling the fabric of his shirt tight. “Can be, but if you get a good price for your herd, it’s worth it, and in a year or two, you’ll have another bunch of cows to sell again.”
“Is your brother married,” Daliah asked, not sure where the question had sprung from.
“No, he’s on his own. He hasn’t ever been married, but being the youngest he has time if he wants it.” He grinned then, surprising Daliah who noted how his face lit up when he smiled. “Problem is there ain’t hardly any young eligible women there abouts.”
Daliah smiled. “Perhaps as the town grows, there will be more people and a better opportunity for your brother to find someone suitable,” she said offering her own smile.
They talked a few minutes longer before Daliah heard someone call out in pain and ran to help. Another careless burn was only a minor distraction on the trail.
Chapter 9
The next morning Daliah woke feeling happy to be back on the trail after her discussion with Mr. Gaines the night before. She felt that surely in a brand new town, she could make a new start for herself. She wondered if there were any jobs she might do, or if perhaps she could start a business of her own.
The idea of her own place, her own job, and being her own boss appealed to her. She was good with simple remedies and helping those with minor injuries or illnesses. Perhaps she could sell some of her salves or ointments.
As the morning rolled into afternoon, her mind was so full of thoughts of the future that she walked right past the Hampton’s wagon and on to the next.
“Miss Owens?” a warm rich voice washed over her making her stop and look up to see Mr. Gaines and Chad.
“Oh, good morning,” Daliah said tipping her hat up, so she could see the man.
“Can I come eat with you?” Chad asked, squirming out of his father’s grasp and dropping to the ground. “I’m hungry.”
“You are always welcome at our fire,” Daliah said with a laugh.
“See Pa, I told you that she wouldn’t care. The lady with the big hat always likes it when I come for lunch.”
Daliah couldn’t help but laugh. The boy was precocious, and she did think he needed a lesson in manners, but he still made her smile. “Will you be joining us Mr. Gaines?”
“I might be back,” Spencer said leaning on his saddle horn and scanning their surroundings with a keen eye.
“I’ll save you something Pa,” Chad said taking Daliah’s hand and dragging her toward her wagon where Mr. Hampton was already setting up the camp stove.
Spencer sat up straight turning his horse back along the line to see that everyone had heard the word for noonin’. Even at their pace, horses and oxen needed a rest and a chance to feed. It had been a clean run so far, but anything could happen when you weren’t looking.”
Casting a glance back over his shoulder, he watched the pert young woman walking along next to his son. Chad deserved a mother, but there was no room in his heart for that. When he’d lost his wife, he’d given up on all of that nonsense. He was sure he would manage just fine on his own, and as the boy got older, it would only get easier.
Something nagged at the back of Spencer’s mind trying to force him to recognize the lie, but he pushed it away. At least in Texas his son would have family. He could grow strong and tall in the wide-open spaces of the Lone Star State, learning to work cattle and build something that would eventually be his.
At the far side of the line Spencer saw a horse step in a hole and he kicked his mount forward toward the team hoping a broken leg wouldn’t mean that they had to put the animal down.
“Mr. Gaines,” a young man in a straw hat called holding tight to the horse’s reins. “I think his foot is stuck.”
Spencer jumped from the saddle soothing the spooked horse and helping the boy hold him steady while they checked the leg. Squeezing his fingers into a crevice he wiggled a rock loose and the horse pulled its hoof free.
Holding his breath Spencer went over the horse’s leg finding a tender fetlock but no serious harm.
“I’ll get some liniment for this leg,” Spencer said striding back to his horse. You keep him easy and let him graze. Hopefully, he’ll be fine by the time we take off again.”
“Yes sir,” the man said, stroking the big horse’s nose.
“Miss Owens, do you have anything for a bruised leg?” Spencer asked, jumping from his saddle as his horse skidded to a stop.
“Of course,” Daliah said, handing Chad a plate and heading for the wagon. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Not me,” Spencer said. “One of the Matthew’s horses.”
“Oh, I don’t know that it has ever been used on a horse before,” Daliah said. “Don’t overdo it,” she added, starting to hand him the pot. Pulling it back she looked at the man’s unhappy face. “I think I’d better do it,” she finally said. “Take me to this horse,”
“You don’t need to trouble yourself,” Spencer said. “Just give me the pot.”
“No,” Daliah said, feeling mildly embarrassed. “I’m afraid this is all I have and I can’t have it being wasted,” Daliah insisted.
“Fine,” Spencer growled, grabbing his horse’s reins. “Climb up.”
“I’ll walk,” Daliah said.
“We don’t have time,” Spencer said grabbing her around the waist and swinging her up on to the horse as her breath left her lungs.
“Mr. Gaines,” Daliah protested clutching the saddle horn where she sat across the saddle swells.
Spencer swung up behind the young woman threading his arms around her and taking the reins as he trotted toward the other wagon. He couldn’t help but smile at the little squeal of fright the woman gave. She should have just given the stuff to him.
Five minutes later Spencer admitted that he had been wrong. He would have used far more of the liniment than Miss Owens had and based on how the horse kept stomping its foot the stuff was plenty powerful enough.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Daliah said, screwing the top back on the jar. “I need to go wash my hands.” Before the man could react she was striding through the camp toward her own wagon, her head held high in irritation.
Climbing into the wagon quickly and putting her jar away Daliah tried to settle her breathing. Mr. Gaines was a complex man, and she didn’t want to fight with him, but she also could see a need in him that she couldn’t quite place. It was as if some force warred within him that she couldn’t understand, and his treatment of her today was only a symptom of the disease as a whole.
The man obviously loved his son, but couldn’t seem to take the time to sort out the boy’s behavior. He was hard working and took great care to provide for those who rode with him, but he didn’t get close to anyone.
She wondered if he had been a very different man before he had lost his wife. Perhaps he had been cheerful and fun loving, or deeply caring and full of hope for a bright future.
Bowing her head Daliah said a prayer for Mr. Gaines and for Chad, determining
in her heart to keep a closer watch on the boy. Someone needed to help Mr. Gaines with the child, and she would do all she could to keep him safe and out of trouble.
Stepping back out of the wagon a few minutes later, Daliah hurried to the fire where Chad was chatting at Mrs. Hampton.
“We’re just warming up the stew I made last night,” Mrs. Hampton said, “but maybe Daliah will make us some biscuits to go with it,” she added, smiling at the young woman as she approached.
“I’d be glad to,” Daliah agreed, tying her apron around her middle.
“Can we have honey on ‘em?” Chad asked.
“How about jam instead?” Daliah asked. She wanted to keep some of the honey for her cough medicine and other healing items she mixed up when needed. Thinking of it made her miss her mother keenly today. Her mother had taught her so much over the years and had tried to instill a deep sense of kindness and giving in Daliah.
“Why do you look sad?” Chad asked peering up into her face. Children could be so discerning at times.
“I was thinking of my mother,” Daliah admitted with a soft smile.
“I don’t hardly remember my ma,” Chad said, “but I got a blanket she made me, and Pa says it’s special ‘cause she made it just for me.”
Daliah’s heart warmed to the boy, and she smiled. “I’m sure your mother loved you very much,” she said.
The boy shrugged tossing a stick into the small fire. “What happened to your ma?” he asked.
“My mother and father died of a fever,” Daliah said checking the biscuits she had cooking on the fire.
“I’m glad I got my Pa,” Chad said. “He said we’re movin’ to live with my uncle Dan, and I can have my own pony,” he finished with an exciting smile.
“I’m sure you’ll be a great help to your father in your new home,” Daliah said grinning.
Again the boy shrugged. “Is it time to eat yet?”
“In a few minutes,” Mrs. Hampton called. “You go fetch your father and then we’ll eat.”
The boy took off shouting for his father as he raced down the line of wagons, making Daliah smile.
