But she immediately hit a snag when she tried to get the oxen in motion. After countless starts and stops, they weren’t inclined to budge any farther. And she had no idea how to persuade them. Though plenty of men used whips to control their teams, she hesitated to do so.
“Get up,” she urged, but to no avail.
One animal stamped his foot, but the team didn’t move forward.
Climbing down from the wagon seat, she walked to the head of one of the oxen and tugged on the U-shaped metal piece encircling his neck. Still nothing.
She didn’t have the strength to muscle him where he didn’t want to go. To make matters worse, he shook his head as though silently scoffing at her puny efforts.
“You’re making me look bad,” she scolded the recalcitrant beast. “Come on, cooperate. Please?”
All she got in response was an ear twitch.
“Hurry up!” a man yelled behind her, his British accent instantly recognizable.
Couldn’t he see she was trying? If he was in such an all-fired rush, he should offer his assistance instead of just shouting orders. But he no doubt considered it beneath him to help others.
Mattie wished her father had chosen horses to pull the covered wagon. She prided herself on her ability as a horsewoman. They would have given her no trouble. But horses couldn’t live off prairie grasses like oxen. And oxen were supposed to be more reliable—though, apparently, someone had forgotten to tell her team.
Lord, please move these oxen.
Josiah appeared at her side as if in answer to her prayer. “Need some help?”
Though it wasn’t what she’d meant when she’d appealed to the Lord, she wasn’t going to question His ways. “Yes, please,” she accepted in relief.
He gave the animal’s rump a light tap, which was enough to get him moving, and the rest of the team followed behind as docile as lambs, trailing Josiah onto the ferry.
Her cheeks heated.
What had she done wrong? She had no experience with driving a wagon. Had the oxen sensed that? If she couldn’t control her team, she’d be subjected to dangerous scrutiny. It felt like dozens of eyes were focused on her even now, and she pulled the brim of her hat lower over her face.
Once the wagon wheels rolled onto the wooden planks, Josiah hopped back down to the ground. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” Mattie stepped onto the ferry then glanced back in time to see Josiah heading toward an area where several horses were penned.
When he reached the fence, he paused to stroke the nose of one animal. It was a different horse than the one she’d seen him riding yesterday.
The wind tousled his bright hair, causing a lock to fall over his forehead. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met.
But good looks could hide a multitude of sins, as she knew from personal experience. Even months later, she still sometimes had nightmares about what her life would be like if she’d married Charles Worthington back in Saint Louis. She touched her cheek, where a tiny scar served as a permanent reminder to look beneath the surface.
Josiah appeared to be a truly good man—stepping in on two separate occasions to help her out—but she’d been fooled before and wouldn’t naively trust that he was everything he seemed.
Too much was at stake.
And she still didn’t know whether he’d seen through her disguise. Had he discerned more about her than he’d let on? The thought left her unsettled, but she scolded herself not to borrow trouble.
Nonetheless, she had to keep her guard up. Around him and everyone else.
The river current suddenly rocked the ferry, pulling her focus away from the far bank. She tightened her hold on the wagon frame and turned to face west.
It was midafternoon by the time all twenty-five wagons were across the river, and their group made it less than two miles before the wagon master called a halt for the night. After their earlier obstinacy, the oxen seemed to take pity on her and hadn’t balked once on the trail.
At their campsite, the covered wagons were arranged in a circle, and the area inside quickly became a hive of activity and movement. Mattie had to take special care to avoid being trampled by a nervous animal. Or getting in someone’s way. Observing the chaos, she noted that everybody seemed to know what to do.
Except her and Adela.
She didn’t want to stand out as a novice, but belatedly realized she had no idea how to unhitch the oxen. Or what to do with them once they were free of the wagon.
She wasn’t living up to the promise she’d made to Miles Carpenter.
Glancing around, she spotted Josiah. He was occupied with a group of horses, so there would be no help from that quarter.
She’d have to do this on her own. Somehow.
Circumspectly, she watched the other drivers’ actions in order to imitate them. As she moved toward her oxen, she noticed Adela still sat on the bench seat, where she’d insisted on riding all afternoon, despite the uncomfortable jostling as the covered wagon bounced over the rough trail.
“Are you going to get down?”
Tilting her parasol to shade her eyes from the slanting rays of the setting sun, she shook her head. “No. This is the only place to sit.”
Mattie reached for the metal pin securing the nearest oxen’s neck thingamabob to the wooden doodad, which connected him to a second animal. “You don’t need a place to sit right now. You need to get busy starting a fire and cooking supper.” She abandoned her task for a moment to give her sister her full attention. “I can’t do everything myself, Adela. And since I’m taking over the jobs Papa would have handled, it’s up to you to see to the chores around camp that you and I originally planned to share.”
“But I don’t know how to cook,” the younger girl protested. “I don’t even know how to start a fire.”
“You’ll learn.” She wasn’t unsympathetic toward Adela’s plight, but coddling the younger girl would set an unwise precedent. “There’s some wood in that box strapped to the side of the wagon, and the matches are in Papa’s copper tin.”
But still, her sister sat motionless.
“The chores aren’t going to do themselves, and you’re wasting daylight,” Mattie prodded. “Things will be even more difficult to do in the dark.”
Snapping her parasol closed, Adela tossed it into the wagon and clambered down from the high seat.
Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Save your thanks until we see if I can make anything edible,” the younger girl advised.
* * *
After constructing a temporary enclosure to house his horses for the night, Josiah headed toward the circle of wagons. Slipping between the tailgate of one and the tongue of another, he entered the ring and recognized Matt and his sister at the nearest campfire.
The boy squatted, feeding a piece of wood into the crackling flames, while Adela stirred a boiling pot.
“Evening,” Josiah greeted.
Adela turned toward him, the action sending her skirt swinging into the fire.
“Watch out!” Josiah reached forward, intent on pulling her out of harm’s way. But it was too late. The flames ignited the edge of the material.
A series of shrieks filled the air, and the girl’s frantic movements hindered Josiah’s attempts to extinguish the fire by smothering it.
Grabbing a large pan from the tailgate, Matt yanked the cover off the water barrel and filled the container, then tossed the water over his sister’s burning skirts, dousing the flames. “It’s out.”
Silence fell as Adela finally stopped screaming.
Several people had hurried over to see what all the commotion was about, but with the danger now past, they returned to their own campfires.
Everyone except Josiah’s brother and sister-in-law
.
Rebecca’s eyebrows knit in concern. “Are you all right?”
Adela looked down at herself. “My dress! It’s ruined.” No pain showed in her expression.
Was that because she was unharmed? Or was she in a state of shock?
Matt grabbed his sister and gave her a slight shake. “Never mind about your dress!” Fear raised his voice an octave higher than normal. “Are you burned?” Not waiting for a response, he lifted the sodden, fire-damaged edge of her skirt, wincing at what he saw. “You already have blisters forming.”
A moan slipped past Adela’s lips as the pain finally registered. “It hurts.”
Elias knelt for a quick look. “I have some salve that will help. I’ll go get it.” He stood and hurried away.
Rebecca took Adela by the arm. “Let me help you into the wagon. I’m sure you’d prefer some privacy while Elias tends to your injury.”
By the time the two women disappeared between the canvas flaps, Elias had returned, and he followed them inside.
Anxiety crossed Matt’s face.
“Don’t worry. My brother’s a doctor. Adela’s in good hands.”
“It’s my fault she got hurt. She’s never cooked over an open fire before, but I made her do it.” Moving toward the pot suspended above the flames, he lifted the spoon.
“She’s not used to this kind of life, but she’ll adapt.”
Matt tipped the spoon, and a large blob plopped back into the pot. “I guess it’s pretty obvious all of this is new to us.”
“Well, her attire was a bit of a clue.” The picture Adela Prescott had made perched on the bench seat, like a queen on her throne, still had Josiah shaking his head.
Though sensibly dressed, in contrast, it was clear Matt was just as much a greenhorn as his sister. But Josiah wouldn’t hurt the boy’s pride by mentioning it.
Yesterday, he’d wondered if the kid was hiding something. Today, he’d gotten his answer. Matt was trying to disguise the fact that he didn’t know how to handle life on the trail.
But he was smart—observing others to learn the skills he lacked—and had successfully unhitched the oxen on his own and herded them to the area where the other animals grazed.
Now he stirred the contents of the pot, poking at the charred chunks floating in a thick, mud-colored liquid.
It wasn’t recognizable as food—at least not to Josiah. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“I’m not sure. It’s Adela’s first attempt at cooking. We had servants back in St. Louis, and she never learned to prepare meals.”
“She’ll get the hang of it once she’s had a bit more experience.” Although, right now, it was a toss-up whether she would improve enough to produce edible meals before the Prescotts starved.
“Well, this is definitely past saving.” Matt dropped the spoon, and the wooden handle landed against the edge of the pot with a dull thud.
“What’s past saving?” Rebecca questioned as she climbed down from the covered wagon, followed by her husband and his patient.
“In all the excitement, their dinner was ruined,” Josiah excused, seeing no need to mention the food had been inedible even before it was scorched.
Eyeing the contents of the pot, Rebecca’s eyebrows arched, but she didn’t challenge his claim. “I left a delicious stew simmering over the fire, and there’s enough to share.”
“That’s very kind,” Matt began. “But we couldn’t—”
“We’d love to join you,” his sister cut across him.
His cheeks reddened. “Adela, we can’t impose on the Dawsons.”
“It’s not an imposition,” Rebecca assured. “It will give us a chance to get better acquainted.”
A moment of silent communication passed between the siblings, but finally Matt turned away from his sister’s pleading eyes and nodded his assent. “Thank you for your kind offer, Mrs. Dawson. We appreciate it.”
“Please, call me Rebecca,” she invited. “Come on over whenever you’re ready.”
Josiah walked with Elias and Rebecca back to their covered wagon. By the time Matt and Adela arrived, Rebecca had five bowls of mouth-watering stew dished up.
Everyone took seats around the campfire. Elias said grace, and they dug in.
Matt offered Rebecca a compliment on her cooking.
Adela added her agreement with an appreciative smile. A moment later, the happy expression slipped from her face. “I’ll never be able to make anything half as good as this.”
“Of course, you will,” Rebecca encouraged her. “It simply takes a little practice.”
Adela looked unconvinced, but she didn’t argue, and the conversation turned to other topics.
“Did you get your horses bedded down for the night?” Elias questioned.
Josiah nodded. “One of the mares is a bit skittish with so many other animals around, but Miles asked me to take first watch, so I’ll be able to keep an eye on her and make sure she settles.”
Elias turned to the Prescotts to explain, “Josiah plans to start a ranch and has a string of horses he’s taking to Oregon Country.”
“They’re only green broke and have a tendency to spook at unfamiliar noises,” Josiah elaborated. “But they come from hardy stock and will make good saddle horses with a little more training.”
Elias clapped his hand on Josiah’s shoulder. “He’s already got them eating out of the palm of his hand, just like the high-strung bloodstock he worked with outside Nashville.”
Josiah didn’t want to be reminded of the past, and all he’d left behind in Tennessee.
He was determined to focus on the future, instead. “Thoroughbred racers are best left in the East. Practical mounts are what’s needed out west.”
“My baby brother has a special knack with animals. Like your oxen. They followed him like great big puppy dogs this afternoon. And I bet they were much better behaved for you afterward, too.”
Matt’s head bobbed up and down. “It’s a handy skill to have.”
“It’s a way to earn a living,” Josiah conceded. “But not like Elias, here, who can use his medical skills to help people. Now, that’s a talent in short supply in Oregon Country.”
Rebecca nodded. “My parents and sister moved out to the Willamette Valley two years ago, and they arranged a doctoring job for him in Silver Springs.” She beamed with pride at her husband. “The townspeople are building a clinic and house for us that should be completed by the time we arrive.”
Finished with his stew, Josiah set the bowl aside. “While the rest of us will have to scramble to put up some sort of makeshift shelter before winter sets in.”
“Being a doctor does have some perks,” Elias allowed.
Just then, a small dark-haired boy raced past their campfire. He giggled in glee as if playing a game, while his frazzled mother, the preacher’s wife, chased after him.
“Henry Linton, slow down,” she called out. “And watch where you’re going!”
But the little boy paid her no heed. He was still going full speed when he reached his father, a man in his late twenties with a neatly trimmed beard.
The preacher snagged his young son and swung him up into his arms to prevent Henry from barreling over his little sister, who was sitting on the ground playing with a doll. “Whoa there, young man. I think you and I need to have a talk about minding your mama. And having a care around Lizzie.” He sat down with the boy on his lap and spoke in low tones, his expression stern.
Tessa Linton brushed a straggling lock of red hair off her forehead. “I apologize for my son’s behavior. He’s been dashing around all day. I expected that he’d have tuckered himself out by now. I’m certainly worn-out from running after him.”
“Then you deserve a rest.” Rebecca glanced toward the dark-haired preacher. “It
looks like David has things well in hand.”
“For the moment, at least.” Tessa’s expression was wearily resigned, but it was edged with affection. “I’d best take advantage of the calm while it lasts.” She moved toward her own campfire and sat down next to her husband.
“What adorable children.” A soft smile tugged at Adela’s lips as she watched the Lintons, her opinion plainly unaffected by the boy’s misbehaving.
The corner of Elias’s mouth curled up in a lopsided grin, then he picked up the thread of their interrupted conversation. “What are your plans for when you reach Oregon, Matt?”
“We have an aunt and uncle in Oregon City and will stay with them to start.”
Adela nodded and her eyes lit up. “Our relatives own an elegant hotel. The dining room’s paneled in solid mahogany, and the lobby has a large crystal chandelier ordered from New York. Although I’ve never seen it, I imagine it’s magnificent.”
“It certainly sounds lovely,” Rebecca acknowledged. “So, you’ll be living in the hotel, then?”
“Oh, no. Uncle Ephraim has a grand two-story house a few blocks from the hotel.” Adela twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger. “The drawing room is big enough for social gatherings, and the dining table can seat a party of twelve.”
“You’re looking forward to a lifestyle similar to what you had back in Saint Louis.” Josiah didn’t bother to phase it as a question since the answer was obvious.
Adela immediately concurred. “Of course. There will be entertainment and music, and we’ll have a string of handsome beaus—”
“We?” Rebecca’s brow pleated in puzzlement.
“Oh! I meant me. And the friends I’m sure to make,” Adela hastily clarified, with an overly bright smile.
Matt spooned the last few bites of stew into his mouth as if suddenly in a hurry. “It’s getting late. Adela and I better head back to our wagon.” He placed his empty bowl in Rebecca’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for a delicious meal, Mrs. Dawson—Rebecca,” he quickly corrected.
“You’re welcome,” Rebecca replied with a smile, then moved to collect Adela’s bowl and stack it with the other one. “Why don’t I come by in the morning to give you some pointers on how to prepare breakfast?”
Wed on the Wagon Train Page 3
