by Tess LeSue
“Oh.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s very late . . . ”
“I had a lot of people to get through.” He was brusque.
“Of course. Just hold on a moment while I get my wrap.”
It was easier in the street than in the hall, as people were out and about, packing and repacking. At least he wasn’t alone with her now.
“These are your two?” he asked as he approached the two biggest wagons on the street. He knew perfectly well that they were her wagons.
“Is Wendell asleep?” Georgiana asked Kipp, who was guarding them. “Matt wants to just check over our wagons.”
“He’s taking the next shift.” The boy eyed Matt. “Why’s he need to be poking through our stuff?”
“Her stuff,” Matt corrected. “It’s a service I offer. Don’t worry, there’s no extra charge.” He hauled himself up onto the seat of the front wagon. He’d done the final check on it with Wendell before he let her pay Noonan for it. As usual, Noonan had done a slapdash job and had needed to make adjustments before Matt was happy.
Georgiana’s lead wagon was a massive hickory-framed prairie schooner, filled to the brim with supplies and trunks. He checked everything was strapped down and made sure the waterproofing was tight.
“Where’s your tools?” he asked.
“Other wagon,” Kipp said sulkily.
“No. You need some in each. Just in case. What if something happens to the other wagon?”
“Like what?” Kipp sneered.
“Like it gets smashed to bits in a river crossing.”
“Oh my.” Georgiana shivered and pulled her wrap tighter. “Would that really happen?”
“Or you might get separated. It’s best to be prepared. You got the food divided between the wagons, like I told you?”
“Yes,” Georgiana said before Kipp could answer. “The children and I helped with that this afternoon. That was on your list of instructions.”
“Good. Let’s go through your tools and see what we’ll put in this wagon.”
Georgiana followed him to the second wagon.
“These all your tents?” he asked.
Georgiana bit her lip. “I suppose we should move half of those to the first wagon too?”
He nodded. “And half the bedding. You don’t want to be caught out.” He saw the quilt he’d bought Wilby at the dance, neatly folded.
Together they readjusted the loads, moving things back and forth between the wagons to cover all of the “just in case” eventualities he could think of.
“I must say, Mr. Slater, you are very prepared,” she said when they’d finished the night’s work.
“Have to be,” he told her as he tied the canvas cover down tighter. “It can be deadly out there. I don’t like to take chances.”
The moon had risen over the rooftops, silvering the street. He watched as people scurried about, packing. The night before a roll out always had a strange cast to it. The streets were busy late into the night, and there were the sounds of hushed voices, hammers fixing the last bits and pieces, horses whickering uneasily, oxen lowing. Expectation walked the streets, and no one slept well.
“Thank you for looking after us,” Georgiana said. “You’re so thorough. It puts me at ease.” She didn’t look at ease.
“It’s my job.” He was being ungracious, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Your wagons look good now,” he said gruffly. “You need anything?” he asked Kipp.
“Only some sleep,” the boy sneered.
“I’ll send some coffee out for you. Mrs. Bulfinch keeps a maid on all night the night before a roll out. It’s a busy night. At least you’re not like poor Trent there.” Matt gestured to a man halfway down the street who had his belongings strewn everywhere, while his wagon gaped like an empty mouth. “He’s had to repack his whole wagon.”
“Why?” Georgiana asked.
“Packed the food right in the middle, where he couldn’t get to it. He seemed to think he’d have time to unpack and repack every night. Doesn’t seem to realize unpacking is the last thing you feel like doing after a long day traveling.”
Kipp didn’t show any sign of sympathy.
“Roll out is just after dawn,” Matt told them. “I’ll be here after four to help you with your animals.”
“Four,” Georgiana said numbly as she followed him back into the hotel.
“That’s right, missus. And you’d best get used to those hours as we’ll be rolling out every morning around dawn. We need to use every ounce of daylight we can if we want to make Oregon before the leaves fall.”
“California,” she corrected softly.
Goddamn. Why did he feel it like an elbow in the ribs every time he thought of her in California?
It didn’t matter. He didn’t care, he told himself fiercely. He didn’t care one bit.
He bid her farewell at their shared landing, aware of the way her gaze followed him longingly.
He closed the door between them and went to bed. Deathrider was awake but was wise enough not to comment.
17
HE WAS BRINGING his whore with him! Georgiana couldn’t believe the nerve of him.
She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours, and it had been an exhausting morning. She felt like she’d done an entire day’s work before the sun was even up. For once, the twins had actually been helpful. Excited about the adventure ahead, they’d even slept in their clothes, so they could bound straight out of bed and head down to the wagons. It proved much harder to get Susannah and Wilby out of bed. In the end, Georgiana left them sleeping while she finished all her other chores. Nearly everything was packed already, so clearing out the hotel rooms didn’t take long. She’d dressed in her new clothes, which were far easier to don without a maid than her old gowns, most of which buttoned up the back and took forever to wrestle with. She’d made the traveling outfits herself, with Becky’s help, and she was pretty proud of them. She’d done quite a lot of needlework in the past but only frivolous things; this had been far more rewarding. She’d also done as Matt’s list instructed and bought new boots for herself and the children, and invested in shoe repair materials. Apparently, they’d be doing so much walking over the summer that their shoes would need constant maintenance. His attention to detail was incredible, she thought as she checked over the list before she left the hotel room. She dreaded to think of the disasters he must have endured to warrant some of the things on that list.
By the time she got downstairs, it was quarter to four and the hotel was bustling. Even the people not heading out were up, having a look-see at what a roll out looked like. It looked busy, that was for sure. Matt’s group was one of the first to leave for the season, so Georgiana didn’t know if theirs was normal or not. She’d only seen one other roll out, and that one had been enormous. The dust had hung over the streets all day in their wake.
Mrs. Bulfinch had a full breakfast on, which she charged double prices for, as she had to be up half the night making it, she grumbled. Georgiana was too nervous to stomach breakfast, and she saw the twins clearly felt the same. They were out on the street running around with the LeFoy girls, their excited voices carrying in the clear night air. The spectators stood by the dining room window and on the porch, yawning and drinking coffee. Coffee. That was what she needed. Despite being keyed up, her body felt slow and tired. Georgiana fetched a pot of coffee and some tin mugs from Mrs. Bulfinch. She’d settled the account the night before, so Mrs. Bulfinch demanded she pay on the spot for the coffee. Georgiana wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of the tightfisted hotelier. Although she was sure she’d miss the brass bed upstairs pretty quickly after a night or two of sleeping on the hard ground.
Matt Slater was up already of course. His animals were lined up at the hitching rail directly in front of the hotel. His strange brother was up too, still looking thin and surly from his recent illness. M
att was arguing with him, and their wolflike dog was circling them nervously, looking back and forth between them. Tom Slater looked as immovable as a rock. It just made Matt frown more and gesture harder, but whatever was happening, Tom didn’t seem to be budging. Eventually, Matt seemed to have enough and stomped off.
“He’s used to getting his way,” his brother told Georgiana as she descended the porch steps and passed in front of him. “Youngest child.”
She smiled politely. Tom Slater made her anxious. There was something in his stillness that was utterly unnerving, and his eerie pale eyes followed you a little too closely. He put Georgiana in mind of a snake: coiled, ready to strike.
“Would you like a coffee?” she offered.
“You’re very thoughtful,” he said, after he’d accepted her offer. “My brother is a lucky man.”
Georgiana was startled. Surely, he knew the engagement was a sham? Matt must have told his own brother. It was hard to tell if he was being serious or facetious; he was near impossible to read. She was glad to get away from him. She busied herself pouring coffee for Wendell and Kipp, and then rounded up the boys and had them help fetching the last of the belongings from upstairs.
“I don’t see why Sooky gets to sleep in,” Philip complained.
“You don’t mind if we wake her, do you, Ma?”
“It’s Mother, not Ma. And leave your sister be. You focus on your own jobs and leave your sister to me.”
“Yes, Ma.”
She rolled her eyes. They were the most contrary creatures. Still, she mustn’t complain—at least they were eager to help this morning. Although she was sure she’d hear Susannah screaming bloody murder any minute now as the twins dragged her out of bed.
“Animals,” Matt said curtly, as he rounded her up. “We need to get your animals harnessed. I’ve got to sort three other parties after you and get to the town square before five.”
“Wendell and Kipp are looking after—”
“They’re your animals.” He cut her off and swept her along to the pens at the end of the street, behind the hostler’s. “You need to know what you’re doing.”
“Just in case?” she said wryly.
“Just in case.” He was clearly tense this morning.
Georgiana eyed her oxen with distaste. They were huge, slobbery, misshapen animals, nothing like the cows back home. Their new milk cow, Bella, was narrow and sweet looking in comparison. She and Sissy, the goat, were waiting patiently in the next pen. Matt had not looked impressed when she and the children had named them.
“They ain’t pets,” he’d said.
“They’re sort of pets,” Georgiana had countered. “And if they’re going to be giving us milk, I think we should treat them with at least a little respect.”
“I had a house cat when I was a girl,” Georgiana said mildly now, as he held open the gate to the pens for her. “And of course a horse . . . ” She cleared her throat. “But I must say, I have no experience with working animals like these.”
“It’s not that much different to a cat.” He closed the gate behind her.
So he had a sense of humor after all. It had been hard to tell these last few weeks.
He had Wendell and Kipp harness up the second team, and made her harness the animals for the lead wagon. He refused to listen when she suggested she could watch him do it. So she could learn.
“You’ll learn quicker if you do it yourself,” was all he said.
It was even harder than she’d thought it would be, but he was a patient teacher. She dropped the harnesses and shied away from the bulk of the oxen when they moved. They were enormous. The front two had giant curling horns that looked like they could impale her if the oxen so much as shook their heads.
She protested when he told her to lead them back to her wagon, but he ignored her and went to check on Wendell.
She twisted the lead around her fist and gave the yoke a pull. The two animals in front rolled their eyes at her. She pulled again. One opened its mouth in a slobbery great yawn.
“Come,” she ordered, pulling again.
“You have to be tougher than that. They ain’t bright,” Matt called.
She flushed. He’d been watching her.
“Move!” She used the scary voice she usually saved for the twins and pulled on the lead with all her weight. This time they moved forward a step before stopping.
Matt took pity on her and gave the lead animal closest to him a slap, yelling, “Ha!”
Georgiana flinched, expecting the team to stampede. But they were ponderous animals and merely lurched forward, plodding toward the gate.
“Unwrap that thing from your hand!” Matt called. “Or if they run, you’ll be dragged to your death!”
She seriously doubted these beasts were capable of running, but she did as she was told. Luckily, it was a straight line from the pen to the wagon, because she didn’t think she would be able to steer them. It was also lucky that they were so slow, as Matt was able to catch up and help her before she had to get them to stop. He then taught her how to harness them to the wagon. It wasn’t hard, just awkward. And it meant Georgiana had to get right up close to the ugly beasts.
“You’ll get used to it,” he told her.
She sincerely hoped not. She hoped Wendell and Kipp would be doing most of the harnessing. In return, she would cook for them. Once she’d learned to cook.
It couldn’t be too hard. People did it all the time. And Mrs. Tilly had written out a bunch of easy recipes for her.
“I’ll meet you at the town square,” Matt called over his shoulder as he moved along to his next job. “Don’t forget: you’re to go to the front of the courthouse steps, on the right by the horse trough.”
Georgiana felt disgruntled as she watched him go. She didn’t like the curtness of their interactions these days. Although they were safer than those breathless encounters in the lamplight, which only ended in kisses. This was better, she reassured herself. Especially after that horrid night at the dance when she’d made a fool of herself dressing up for him, while he was off with his whore.
“You ready?” Wendell interrupted her thoughts, appearing at her side.
Oh my. It was time to go.
“Boys!” She called the twins down from the lead wagon, where they were stashing the bags they’d brought down from upstairs. “Go to the outhouse, please! I don’t imagine we’ll be stopping for a while.”
“We’ll be stopping in the town square.”
“You saw that group that headed out last week.” Phin’s voice dripped disdain. “They were hours in the square before they left.”
“Listen to your mother,” Wendell cautioned them.
They ignored him.
“Just do it, please,” she sighed. “Or I’ll make you ride with your sister all day.”
That worked. They were off the wagon and tearing round the side of the hotel to the outhouse. She left them to it and ran upstairs to rouse Susannah and Wilby. She managed to get Susannah up and dressed without too much trouble, but Wilby was still dead to the world. She did her best to dress his sleepy, floppy body and then carried him downstairs. Susannah followed along behind, dragging their bag.
“I’m hungry, Mama.”
“I know, petal. We’ll get something to eat in a moment.”
Wendell helped her make a nest out of the quilt just behind the buckboard. They’d kept a tiny space free, specifically for this purpose, as they’d assumed Wilby and Susannah wouldn’t be walking as much as Georgiana and the twins.
Once Wilby was tucked in, Georgiana escorted Susannah to the outhouse, and then they washed their faces and hands in the laundry and bought some biscuits from Mrs. Bulfinch. The old woman even charged them for the napkin she wrapped the biscuits in.
“Best eat it all,” Georgiana warned her daughter. “Each crumb you drop is
worth a small fortune.”
Her heart was pounding as she handed Susannah up and checked on the twins, who were sitting on the bench of the second wagon with Kipp.
“Well, here we go,” she said, handing them each a couple of biscuits. Grudgingly, she gave one to Kipp too.
“You didn’t get jam or butter?” Phin complained.
“I couldn’t afford it,” she said dryly.
“Can we carry the rifle?” he asked.
“No.” She felt anxious as she made to leave them. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride up front with me?”
Kipp looked hopeful they’d agree, but they didn’t. She fretted over leaving them. It was hitting her now, what they were about to do. It was insane, wasn’t it? Dragging four young children along such a hard road. But what choice did she have?
Her chest felt tight. Today they were finally leaving to go and get Leo. It was easier to think about him, now that she was on her way. Moving felt better than sitting still.
“Be good,” she warned the twins. “And you remember what Mr. Slater said: children die all the time from falling off wagons and going under the wheels.” She stole a glance at the giant ironclad wheels and shuddered. “You be extra careful. I don’t want to lose you as well.”
“What do you mean ‘as well’? You haven’t lost anyone.”
Leo.
“She means our father, you idiot,” Philip told him.
“Just be careful,” she repeated. Would they be safe with Kipp? Maybe they should come with her?
She heard a “Ha!” and the Barrys’ wagon rolled out. Tom Slater rode with them. His horse was tethered behind, with the Barrys’ other animals, and he didn’t look happy about it, but the doc wouldn’t let him ride yet.
A cheer went up from the spectators on the porch of the hotel as the first wagon rolled.
“You ready?” Wendell called.
“You’ll see us at the square, Ma,” Philip said patiently. “It’s only a couple of blocks away.”
“Mother, not Ma.” She patted his knee and left for her own wagon.
Susannah was sitting stiffly next to Wendell, shivering in the cool night air. It was still black as pitch. Wendell had a lantern hung on the wagon frame by his head. It cast a pool of golden light around them. He didn’t help her into the wagon; it didn’t even seem to occur to him to do so. She used the wheel hub to climb up and settled on the bench, pulling Susannah close. She checked on Wilby, who was still asleep in his quilt nest.
