Their war of wills stretched on for several charged seconds, but the older brother had the advantage since Josiah wasn’t at full strength. Left with no option but to concede the field, he did so grudgingly.
Several days later, his disposition was little improved.
He shifted restlessly on the wooden seat. If he was searching for a better position, he wouldn’t find it. Covered wagons weren’t designed with the comfort of passengers in mind.
Since Josiah was driving her oxen, she’d taken over his duties, herding his string of horses. The decision hadn’t gone over well with him, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Someone needed to see to the responsibility in his place. It was a switch, him having to rely on Mattie, instead of the other way around.
She reined in beside him. “We’ll be stopping to make camp about a mile up ahead.”
He grunted in response, reminding her of a sulking little boy vexed at having his favorite toy taken away. The corners of her mouth curled up at the thought.
Catching her expression, his eyebrows pulled together. “It seems to me that you’re enjoying my current predicament a mite too much. But don’t get used to it. The swelling in my ankle has gone down, and tomorrow I’ll be back on a horse. No matter what Elias has to say about it. I’ve had about all I can take of choking on trail dust and bouncing around on this hard wooden seat.”
Though she worried whether his ankle was healed enough to withstand the strain, she didn’t attempt to dissuade him. She was frankly surprised that he’d submitted for this long. Only the fact that his stern-eyed brother was driving the wagon directly behind him had kept Josiah in check.
Meanwhile, Mattie had taken full advantage of the opportunity to ride away from the line of covered wagons and the cloud of dust kicked up by twenty-five teams of oxen.
There was a sense of freedom while on horseback that nothing else could compare with. Moving as one with the animal, the wind whipping past, it seemed as if all her cares were left far behind. She’d missed that feeling over the past weeks of walking.
She gave the horse’s neck an affectionate pat. “I had a mare with this coloring, back in Saint Louis.”
The corner of Josiah’s mouth quirked up in amusement as he glanced in her direction. “Which you no doubt rode sidesaddle while wearing a fancy getup that matched your horse’s pale yellow coat.”
He wasn’t wrong about her past life—leaving out the part about color-coordinating her riding habit and her mount. Her lifestyle back then was a far cry from her present position sitting astride the palomino, with her simple lavender cotton skirts hiked up to her knees and a pair of her father’s trousers sticking out from beneath, covering her lower legs.
Figuring he was simply trying to get a raise from her with his comment, she didn’t take the bait. “My father purchased her when I was twelve. And I begged and pleaded for him to let me ride her. He kept refusing, saying she was too much for me to handle until I got a little bigger, and the horse had additional training.”
“Let me guess,” Josiah cut in. “You ignored his dictates.”
“I might have...forgotten that he’d forbidden me,” she allowed.
“Why am I not surprised? So, what happened when you disobeyed your daddy and tried to ride the horse?”
“Well, I wasn’t strong enough to lift the saddle onto her back or tall enough to get the bridle over her head. But I couldn’t ask for help, since all the stable hands knew of my father’s restriction. Therefore, I decided to do without. It didn’t seem a problem—she was docile as could be when I led her out of her stall. This gave me great confidence, and I climbed onto the mounting block, certain I would shortly show my father he was wrong about both of us.” She paused, wondering why she had started telling Josiah a story that ended in her humiliation.
“Well, go on,” he prompted. “What happened next?”
Sighing in resignation, she continued. “The moment I sat down on her back, she bucked. Before I knew quite how it had come about, I found myself in the water trough. Wet, but unharmed.”
His eyebrows arched in alarm. “You could have been seriously injured.”
“That’s what my father said. He was furious. But the Good Lord was watching over me. And I told my father so. Still, that didn’t stop him from banning me from the stables for an entire month. He hired a trainer to work with the mare, and afterward gave her to me for my thirteenth birthday. She was sold, along with all our other horses, before we left Saint Louis.” When her father could no longer afford the upkeep for a full stable and needed money to finance their overland trip.
She didn’t want to dwell on that and turned the focus back to Josiah. “When you reach Oregon Country and start your horse ranch, will you train other people’s horses, besides selling the ones you’ve gentled?”
“Most likely,” he answered, accepting her change of subject without comment. “There’s sure to be a need. Too many people are of the opinion that the job’s done once they’re able to get a saddle on a horse and ride it around a couple times. But that mount wouldn’t be suitable for an inexperienced rider. Or a child.” He gave her a significant look.
“I’m not twelve anymore,” she reminded him.
He flashed a charming grin. “I had noticed. And you’re certainly more than capable of handling any saddle-ready horse now.” His gaze shifted briefly to his string of horses, then returned to her.
Her cheeks heated at the admiring look in his eyes, while his praise caused a warm glow to spread through her.
“Will you hire other trainers to help you?” she queried, in an attempt to bring the conversation back to its original focus.
“Why do you ask? Are you intending to apply for the position?”
“Of course not.” She’d given little thought to her future beyond reaching her relatives. “I was only curious.”
“Well, to answer your question—no, I won’t be hiring other trainers. At least, not right away. The ranch will be small to start, but I want to build it up to include breeding and raising horses, as well as training them.” He outlined his plans in more detail, his face animated as he spoke of everything he hoped to accomplish.
His return to good spirits was a welcome relief. Mattie had come to expect his ready smile, and she’d felt its absence over the past few days.
She refused to look too closely at what that might mean.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s wrong?” Adela asked a few nights later as they sat by the campfire after supper.
Mattie pulled her finger away from her mouth to answer. “I stabbed myself with the needle.” For the third time. She was commencing to feel like a pincushion.
Rebecca had revealed she was in the family way, and Mattie and Adela were helping stitch garments for the coming child, which was expected to arrive in just over three months’ time, somewhere around the beginning of October.
But Mattie’s mind wasn’t on the task. Instead, it circled round and round why Josiah’s mood mattered to her so much. His happiness shouldn’t have the ability to affect her that way. But it did. And she didn’t like the implications.
Despite her steadfast faith in his character, she couldn’t let down her guard. In fact, she had to be even more vigilant now that she’d recognized the emotional danger he posed to her. Because no matter how wonderful he was, Josiah was still the wrong man for her.
He wasn’t offering forever, only a temporary union. He’d made his position on the matter clear. He didn’t want to be joined to her, didn’t consider her as his wife. This marriage was nothing more than a means to an end.
And if she gave her heart to him, she’d be left with a gaping hole when they parted ways.
Still, her eyes were drawn to him. At the moment, he sat with his head bent over the saddle scabbard for his rifle, repairing an are
a where the stitching had come loose. She watched his strong hands work the supple leather. When he finished the job, he glanced up at her, almost as if he’d sensed her gaze on him.
Caught staring, she rushed into speech. “I was thinking I should learn the proper way to handle a rifle. It’s an important skill to have out here on the trail. And I want to know I can protect myself if the need should ever arise.”
“That’s a very practical mind-set,” Rebecca replied, then turned to her brother-in-law. “Why don’t you teach her, Josiah? The two of you can go a little ways from the wagon train, where she doesn’t have to fear that she might hit someone by accident.”
Mattie silently groaned in dismay. She’d said the first thing that popped into her head without giving a thought for where it might lead. Rebecca had spotted the perfect opening to get Mattie and Josiah off alone together, and she’d seized it.
Mattie wanted to protest against the suggestion, but that would seem odd after she’d brought up the subject herself. She silently willed Josiah to refuse.
He didn’t seem to receive her message. After nodding his agreement, he glanced at the sky. “We have about an hour of daylight left. I can give you a quick lesson now. Unless you’d rather continue with your sewing.”
Rebecca reached over and plucked the material from Mattie’s lax grasp before she had time to accept the reprieve. “There’s plenty of time for Mattie to work on this later. The baby won’t be here for several months yet.” She tucked the half-finished garment away in her sewing basket. “Now, off you go.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t. Won’t people worry if they hear shots?” Mattie argued in a bid to avoid Rebecca’s obvious attempt at matchmaking.
“I’ll let Miles know it’s only a little target practice and no cause for alarm,” Elias offered. Setting aside his knife and the small chunk of wood he was carving into a cross, he pushed to his feet to seek out the wagon master.
Mattie turned to her sister. “You should come with us, Adela.” The younger girl could use the lessons, since she was even more clueless about guns than Mattie. More importantly, she could act as a buffer.
Adela thwarted her efforts, however. “No, thank you. I saw what happened to you the last time you shot Papa’s rifle.”
Mattie could have done without that reminder, which increased her dread for the coming event. But out of excuses to delay, she headed to her wagon and retrieved the rifle.
Surely, she was fretting over nothing. Rebecca might hope for something to happen between them, but that didn’t mean it would. Mattie had been alone with Josiah on a number of occasions and nothing of a romantic nature had occurred.
That was before she’d lost a bit of the armor surrounding her heart, however. But no matter. She would simply strengthen her fortifications and ensure her emotions were well protected. It shouldn’t be too difficult a task.
But despite her optimistic thoughts, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she felt vulnerable as they set out together. He took the rifle from her, his fingers brushing against hers, and she quickly pulled away from the contact.
She and Josiah exchanged greetings with several people while making their way through camp, but they didn’t stop to chat. The notes of a fiddle and harmonica, playing a jaunty tune, drifted above the hum of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. None of this served to lessen her anxiety, however. The sounds faded as she and Josiah moved away from the circle of covered wagons, their footsteps crunching on the sandy soil.
Over the past week, the landscape had changed as the wagon train left the plains behind and moved to a higher elevation. Here, the ground was littered with large boulders and shrubby bushes.
It was to a cluster of these bushes that Josiah led her. “This looks like a good spot, far enough away from the wagons.” He turned his attention to the rifle and checked it over.
“It’s not loaded,” she explained. “After I fired it, I didn’t know how to reload the powder and shot.” Her cheeks heated at the admission.
An incredulous expression enveloped his features. “Are you telling me you continued to go on guard duty with a gun that wasn’t loaded? Never mind. The answer is obvious.”
She was stung by the insinuation that she had done something which could have endangered their group. “Well, would you have wanted me to try to take a shot even if there had been trouble?” she demanded, feeling the need to defend her actions.
He didn’t take so much as a moment to consider before he answered. “No. You likely would have caused more trouble than a whole gang of outlaws. It’s a good thing for you there wasn’t anything that needed shooting. Or perhaps I should say, it’s a good thing for me. I might have stood in a place that should’ve been well out of range yet somehow still managed to be in your line of fire.”
“I’ll have you know that I wasn’t actually aiming for that cute little bunny rabbit,” she shot back, indignant.
He skewered her with a skeptical look. “So you say now.”
“It’s the truth!”
“Nonetheless, I should have thought to go over the basics with you long ago. It’s not as if we had anything better to do with our time when we were on guard duty. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before this. I was remiss, but no more. Loading the rifle will be your first lesson.”
She extended the bag that contained the necessary items, and Josiah took it from her.
“I’ll show you how to do it the first time, then you can try it yourself after that.” He began his instruction, walking her through the process step by step. “Guns are useful tools, but you have to handle them with the proper caution.”
She kept her mind focused on his words rather than the shape of his lips as he spoke. And she paid heed to what he was doing instead of allowing herself to be distracted by the flexing motions of his hands.
Finding that it only took a bit of mental discipline to stay focused, her tension drained away. This wasn’t the ordeal it had seemed a short while ago. She’d simply blown it out of all proportion in her head.
Once the gun was loaded, he handed it to her. “I want you to aim for that clump of brush over there.” He pointed a short distance away, to an area where five large scrub bushes were bunched together, covering several feet of ground.
“Any one in particular?”
“Nope. For now, let’s just concentrate on getting your shot in that general vicinity. Once you’ve done that, then you can try aiming for a specific target. Now, bring up the rifle and fit the stock against your shoulder.” He moved in close behind her and explained how to sight down the barrel.
Reaching around her, he placed his arms alongside hers to make a slight adjustment in her positioning, and for a minute she lost track of what he was saying. It took a determined effort to bring her mind back to his words.
“...don’t rush your aim before pulling the trigger. You only have one shot, and then you’ll have to reload. If you miss your target the first time, it’s not going to wait until you’re ready to shoot again. And seeing a wild animal bearing down on you can lead to panic and fumbling, which often prevents a person from getting off another shot. So, no matter what else is going on around you, remain calm and steady. Make your first shot count. Or it might be your last.”
She nodded her understanding, but staying calm and steady was easier said than done. A distracting male standing too close seemed to have a similar effect on her as facing a hostile attack.
Unaware of her dilemma, Josiah continued. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that this rifle’s got a kick like a green-broke horse.”
“No, you don’t. It’s not something I’m ever likely to forget after the last time.”
“You’re going to feel it, even with the gun sitting tight against your shoulder. Be ready for it. Brace your legs a little farther apart. Right before you squeeze t
he trigger, take a deep breath in and hold it, otherwise the movement could throw off your aim. Now, pull back the hammer to cock the gun, and fire whenever you’re ready.”
He backed off a few paces, giving her some much-needed space, which allowed her to focus on the task at hand. She aimed at the center of the group of bushes and tried to do everything exactly as he’d specified. Preparing herself for the loud blast that would sound in her ear, she pulled the trigger.
Though she was fully aware the kick was coming, it still knocked her back a couple steps. She came up against the solid wall of Josiah’s chest, and her finger accidentally jerked on the trigger again. She thanked God the gun was a single shot. If not for that, she could have easily ended up with a piece of lead through her foot.
* * *
Josiah put his hands on Mattie’s upper arms and shifted his body away from her. Once he was certain she wouldn’t stumble without his support, he released his hold.
He’d thought he was handling himself well, ignoring the sweet scent of her soft skin and not letting her proximity affect him. But then she’d practically fallen into his arms, and he couldn’t delude himself any longer.
When she was near, he felt emotions he didn’t want to feel. Hadn’t thought he could feel anymore. Not with a heart that he’d done his level best to bury away.
Mattie was stubborn and fiercely determined to have her own way, but she was also courageous and protective of those weaker than her.
He, in turn, wanted to shield her and keep her safe, so that she never knew a moment of pain or heartache. But it was different from the brotherly affection he felt for Rebecca. And more than the caring of a mere friend. He felt an emotional connection to Mattie unlike anything he’d experienced before—even with Georgiana.
Holding Mattie close had seemed right and natural. But it wasn’t. She might be his wife on paper, but she would never belong to him, could never be his wife in his heart.
Clearing his throat, he glanced away from her and toward the spot where her shot had kicked up a tiny cloud of dust behind the bushes. “Not bad. You hit your target.”
Wed on the Wagon Train Page 15
