Bound and Determined

by Regina Jennings

  “Can’t have a rancher seeing a cavalryman being bested by an old wagon team,” he grunted. “What’s wrong with y’all?”

  They halted just short of the barnyard. Voices could be heard on the other side. He thought of calling out, but not until he got his horses under control. They were pacing, pulling back against him. The dun gave a little hop. Both watched the barnyard pen. Bradley looked over his shoulder. What could it be? Everything looked just as a farm should.

  Until something strange, something he’d never seen before, peered at him from around the side of the barn. It was just a head—foreign, unknown, and floating from up high. His blood ran cold.

  The horses just flat-out ran.

  “Whoa!” he called, but it was too late. Thrashing against each other, they turned. Bradley had to jump back or be taken down himself. The sorrel quickly found her feet and began pulling away. The dun righted herself to keep stride, and they were off. Bradley chased after the wagon. They cut sharply, but they were going too fast to make the turn. One wheel left the ground as the wagon tilted. The load shifted, and quick as Sergeant Nothem’s flapjacks, the buckboard flipped over and spilled its contents. Bradley dodged the apples rolling at him and raced to the horses, which were dragging the destroyed equipment behind them.

  Bradley caught a rein and pulled them to a stop. He stroked the frightened horse nearest him. “I don’t know what kind of critters they’re keeping at this farm, but—”

  “Private!” The man coming toward him wasn’t dressed in a uniform, but he walked just like those officers at Fort Reno did.

  Bradley jumped to attention right there among the spilled goods and tangled lines. He had one shot at keeping his position. He said a quick prayer that wrecking the wagon wouldn’t be enough to get him sent back in disgrace. “Private Bradley Willis, reporting for duty,” he offered. “I’m reporting for duty, but the horses have other plans.”

  The man marched through the busted crates and scattered sundries. He put a calming hand on each of the horses. “Captain Herald, here. They must not have warned you at the hotel.”

  “Warned me, sir?”

  “About the horses. As soon as they catch a whiff of the camels, they bolt.” Captain Herald’s hair was jet-black despite his age, and the loose, double-breasted shirt he wore hung on a frame that was made to carry more muscle.

  “Camels?” Bradley looked at the strangely shaped mammal stirring in the corral. “You bought cattle from a camel breeder?”

  “I didn’t buy cattle.”

  “But Major Adams said that I’d be accompanying you and your livestock across Indian Territory.”

  “The camels are my livestock. I’m taking them back to my place in Texas.”

  Bradley was rarely caught by surprise, but this particular fact knocked him back a notch. “Camels? You’re taking camels to Texas? If horses are afraid of them, how are we going to round them up?”

  “Who needs horses when you can ride the camels?” The captain’s drawn face looked like it hadn’t smiled that wide in a very long time.

  “Sir,” Bradley said, “I’m a cavalryman. A trooper. I ride horses.”

  But the captain wasn’t listening. “Let me introduce you to the herd, and then we need to bring the supplies into the barn. We’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to leave tomorrow morning.”

  Camels? Bradley strained for another look, but the animal had wandered back to the other side of the barnyard. This was his assignment? This was the mission Major Adams had sent him on?

  If so, his major was out of his ever-loving mind.

  “There ain’t no way I’m messing with those creatures.” The cowboy’s eyes never left the big bull camel. His perfectly white teeth stuck out about as much as the dromedary’s. “There ain’t no way that God made an animal that ugly.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Ambrosia adjusted her leghorn hat with the wide, apple-green ribbon as she gazed up at the camel. “And they’re dangerous, too. Ill-tempered, with razor-sharp teeth. Their favorite trick is to chomp the foot off a rider when he least expects it.”

  The cowboy shuddered and took another step back from the corral. Ambrosia hid her smile. When her mother had tasked her with disrupting her father’s trip, she hadn’t realized it would be this entertaining. Unable to convince her father that the camels were a bad idea, she’d now moved to the next stage, which was preventing him from coming home with the beasts. Without some hired help, they’d never be able to cross Indian Territory, and thankfully the cowboys he’d hired to accompany them were a superstitious lot. At this rate, she’d be able to save her father’s health and her mother’s beautiful flower gardens in one fell swoop.

  Where was her father, anyway? He was jogging out toward the road, the last she saw, and in his condition, he shouldn’t be hurrying about like that. But it had given her the perfect opportunity to send another feckless cowboy packing.

  “I’ll stick to horses, thank ye very much.” The cowboy managed to pull his lips closed, even over all his teeth. “I’ll go tell your pa that I’ve reconsidered my offer.”

  “No need.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll tell him myself.”

  After a tip of his hat, the cowboy stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled away.

  She spun her parasol on her shoulder as she surveyed the camels. The two younger calves loped around the corral with a weird swaying trot, their flat feet splaying out with each step. How in the world could her father have become so infatuated? After listening to his stories for years, she’d imagined them as elegant, noble creatures instead of the awkward animals clowning around before her.

  The old bull gazed down over the end of his huge flapping lips, as if he’d read her unflattering thoughts.

  Amber stabbed the end of her parasol into the dusty ground as the camel curled his lips back and showed his teeth. “Keep acting like that, and you’ll scare them away faster,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be happier here in a barnyard than in mother’s flower garden.”

  The camels turned their heads in unison. Even after all these years, the older animals seemed to remember her father. They listened for his voice, but this was someone else. Their odd heads rotated away, and they jogged to the other side of the corral.

  More men coming to try their hand? Ambrosia gave her parasol another spin. Just a few minutes alone with her next victim, and she’d have another cowboy riding off into the sunset.

  But he wasn’t a cowboy—he was the cavalryman. She had to look twice for insignia because he strutted like he was at least a sergeant-major, but the lack of chevrons meant he was only a private.

  How very disappointing.

  “Private Willis, this is my daughter, Miss Herald. She’s going with us on this little trip.”

  She stood tall as the trooper took a full accounting of her. He himself was well built, but not an overly large man. He had a strong jaw, and his lips were uneven, with the bottom lip fuller than it should be. Ambrosia wasn’t sure whether it was enticing or not, but she was willing to give it some thought.

  “Ma’am.” He tipped his black slouch hat, giving her a quick glimpse of some deep-blue eyes. Then he turned to the pen. “Who do we have here?”

  And just like that, she’d been dismissed.

  “That’s Omar. He’s my mount,” her father said. “And let me introduce you to the other four.”

  Ambrosia bit her lip as she fiddled with the lace on her collar. A less clever woman would have been annoyed that he was ignoring her. Instead, she was planning his speedy departure. How long would this one last?

  “You stay and get acquainted,” her father said. “I’ll see about getting those supplies salvaged.”

  As her father left, the trooper crossed his arms over his chest and stood in silence before the dromedaries. Obviously he found them more interesting than her.

  Ambrosia moistened her lips and sashayed closer. “Camels,” she said. “I guess you weren’t expecting that.”

  The
sun reflected off his tanned face and thick eyelashes. “You never know what surprises a day will bring.”

  She smiled sympathetically. “It’s just a pity that my father troubled you for naught.”

  Now she had his attention, but whatever was going on beneath his handsome face, she couldn’t guess.

  “You’re making this trip with him?” he asked.

  She shot a look over her shoulder as if getting ready to impart a secret. Intrigued, he bent forward to hear her whispered answer.

  “If our plans hold, I’ll go, but so far all of our help has deserted us. The camels are extremely dangerous, and it would take someone with a death wish to handle them. Plus, Father is very unreliable when it comes to payment. I really don’t see what the incentive would be.”

  “Besides getting to spend time with you?” He said it evenly, as if it were a fact that everyone had already acknowledged.

  A spark coursed through her veins. He wasn’t ignoring her now. “I . . . I . . .” She swallowed, then braved a coquettish smile. “Please don’t rely on me to be pleasant company. A journey in sweltering weather across an endless prairie is hardly ideal. Now, maybe if we’d met under different circumstances . . .”

  Chapter

  3

  The camels were sure hard on the eyes, but Miss Herald was another story. She was a beauty, and from the act she was putting on, quite a handful, too. But what did she have to gain with the tall tales?

  And what was her father thinking, bringing such a little spitfire on a trip like this? She might talk a tough game, but the scorching grasslands in August were no place for a lady.

  “I appreciate the warning on the camels,” he said, “but I’m no cowboy. This is my mission, and that means something to me.” It didn’t matter if he was riding a buffalo and herding catfish, he had to keep the captain happy.

  Her parasol rotated slowly. Her smart, apple-green dress looked cool and crisp in the heat. “The camels have teeth like razors, and they chomp off the feet of their riders.”

  He couldn’t keep his face from scrunching up in amusement. Bradley Willis knew when someone was joshing him.

  “Then I’ll keep my feet away,” he said.

  “And they’re mean-spirited. They’ll do anything to throw their riders off. Believe me, you don’t want to fall from that height.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Bradley was intrigued. She might look like a proper lady, but she was up to mischief. And Bradley could never resist mischief.

  “There’s something else, something that I dread mentioning.” She lowered her eyes, and her cheeks went pink. “They say that riding a camel can affect . . .”

  “Go on.”

  She twirled an ebony curl around her finger. Adorable, and she knew it. “I really shouldn’t say.”

  “Too late now.”

  She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. “If you ride the camels, then you may not be able to sire a family later.”

  He stepped back to get a better look at the young miss, then burst out laughing.

  She frowned. “I don’t appreciate being laughed at.”

  “And I don’t appreciate women who try to do my thinking for me.”

  The coquetry was blinked away in a heartbeat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know why you’re trying to sabotage your pa, but that’s pretty low. Now, how about you stop with the nonsense and tell me something about these animals that’s helpful?” Although she was telling him plenty about herself.

  Had Major Adams known about the camels? Had he sent Bradley on this farce purposely? No way would a cavalry officer send a bona fide trooper on a mission like this.

  Unless that trooper had deserted his unit during a gun fight. And that major happened to be his future brother-in-law who was always looking for new ways to inflict torment on him. Major Adams knew exactly what he was doing.

  A rickety wagon pulled by one of the farmer’s horses came rambling across the yard.

  “Are y’all coming to help?” Captain Herald called.

  “Yes, sir!” Bradley took one last look at Miss Herald. She stood in a perfect circle of shade beneath her parasol. The wide green ribbon wrapped around her dainty waist waved gently in the breeze. She would melt away like a stolen sugar cube out on those plains.

  Good thing she wasn’t as sweet as one.

  Her eyes narrowed, as if reading his thoughts. With quick steps, she dashed past him to catch up with Captain Herald, ignoring Bradley’s bow as she passed.

  They came upon the scattered goods, and Miss Herald paused. She turned to Bradley, her narrow skirt flaring like a gentle fire. “How on earth did you spill a load in a wheat field? Was there a sudden curve you didn’t see coming?”

  “Oh, Ambrosia.” The captain laughed as he pulled the wagon nearer the mess of supplies.

  “I wasn’t in the wagon when it overturned,” Bradley said. “The horses tried it without me.”

  “They threw you out of the buckboard?” She glanced pointedly at his uniform. “Our troopers are not what they used to be.”

  “I didn’t lose control. I got off—”

  “And forgot to set the brake?” She smiled triumphantly. “I suppose cavalrymen aren’t accustomed to the responsibility of crating goods. They’re usually only looking out for their own hide.”

  He wondered what it’d take to wipe that smug grin off her face. He had a few ideas.

  “Another cowboy backed out on me.” Captain Herald grunted as he lifted a bag of beans to his shoulder. “And he was my last one. Good thing Private Willis is made of sterner stuff.”

  All the cowboys had backed out? Why? Then Bradley looked at Miss Herald. She batted her eyes at him before reaching for an empty gunny sack and collecting the apples that had scattered.

  What was she up to?

  Bradley grabbed a small barrel and carried it to the farmer’s wagon. “Where’d the hotel’s wagon and horses go?” he asked.

  “I caught that cowboy sneaking away from the farm,” Captain Herald answered. “After abandoning the mission, the least he could do is take them back to town for me.”

  “Can the camels pull this wagon?”

  The captain set a crate on the buckboard with a thud. “They could, but they don’t need to. A camel can carry six hundred pounds on its back.”

  Bradley choked down his surprise. Supply wagons were the bane of the cavalry’s existence—having to slow down for them, always looking for a safe crossing. Without wagons, they could travel unencumbered. Then again . . .

  “So they’re more like oxen?” Slow animals that plodded along. His hopes for a quick assignment and neat resolution to his trouble back at Fort Reno were fading.

  “Only their strength. Depending on the length of the race and the terrain, some can travel faster than horses.” Giving Bradley no time to dispute that claim, the captain continued. “We’ll fit the two younger calves up with frames so they can carry our supplies.”

  Balancing the sack of apples on her hip, Miss Herald said, “I hate to delay us, but it’s going to take some time for Sears, Roebuck to deliver a camel sidesaddle. I doubt they even carry such a thing.”

  “I swear, daughter. You and your objections, when I know from your mother that you packed a split skirt or two. And I’m going to make saddles for the three of us.”

  Bradley expected more of an argument, but Miss Herald gave that one up easily. What was going on here? Was her father forcing her to take this trip?

  “Why camels?” Bradley asked. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “I’m going to keep them for my own enjoyment, and there’s nothing you can say to talk me out of it.” At this, he cut a quick look at his daughter. “Now, once we get the saddles built, we’ll use these pillows to pad them. . . .”

  The instructions continued, right along with the absurdity. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Bradley needed a good report from Captain Herald if he wanted to stay in
the service. That meant following his orders and keeping his willful daughter from ruining their mission.

  Ambrosia wrapped cotton batting around the frame of the saddle, just as her father had instructed.

  “That’s it.” He walked across the barn to inspect her work. She had to admit, he hadn’t collapsed yet despite the hard labor. “You show an aptitude for this,” he added.

  “It’d be easier with the right tools. Why don’t you rest while I go to town and see what they have available?”

  “And lose another day? I’m ready for the adventure. Aren’t you?”

  She focused on the twine she was wrapping tightly around the batting. Was he ready? So far he’d been well, but she had her doubts that he could keep it up.

  That cavalry trooper was watching her again. She wasn’t surprised by his attention. Amber knew how lonely troopers were, but no matter how outrageous her behavior and her demands, Private Willis was not discouraged. Had she lost her touch?

  “Captain Herald,” the trooper said, “I hope you don’t mind me sharing my opinion, but I think it’s a pity that Miss Herald has to make this trip with us. The heat is unbearable, and there are dangerous men in Indian Territory. Riding across the plains is no place for a lady.”

  On the other hand, he might be useful yet.

  “I appreciate your concern, Private Willis,” said her father, “but she insisted that she was up to the challenge. She wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Private Willis’s eyes crinkled. “Sir, are you in the practice of letting your womenfolk tell you what to do?”

  The twine tangled in her hands. “How dare you talk to my father that way! He’s been unwell.”

  “Calm down, Ambrosia,” her father said. “You’ve made it no secret that you don’t approve of my plans. Maybe Private Willis will appreciate my mounts more than you do.”

  “That’s another problem,” the cavalryman continued. “Your daughter seems to have an unhealthy fear of the camels.”

  Uh-oh. None of the cowboys had stuck around to speak to her father after they’d decided to bail. Private Willis was going to mess this up. “I’m not afraid,” she said. “I just think this is a bad idea.”