“Probably not.”
“I don’t know what will happen to us if we don’t get a claim.”
He stared at her, as if he wanted to say something, but then looked at the booklet again. “We’ll just have to make sure you do.”
She warmed at the way he said we’ll, as if they were together in this quest. She couldn’t let her hopes rise that something could grow between them. After all, she was a new widow and shouldn’t even be talking to a man she barely knew, much less allowing him into her dreams. And he had ridden into them, bold as can be, much to her angst.
“These lots here, sections sixteen and thirty-four of each township, have been reserved for schools that will be built later, so we need to know where they are and make sure we don’t claim one of those sections.”
“But how? Will they be labeled or have a flag or something to indicate they’re school lands?”
He gazed at her and blinked his long lashes. “This book shows where they are.”
“Looking at a map is not the same as open country.” She sighed and glanced at Michael, who’d fallen asleep, the partially eaten candy still in his hand.
“Stay close to me when the race starts, and I’ll see that you get land.”
He didn’t know she wouldn’t be the one to ride, but then she’d never told him about her family. For some reason, she wasn’t ready to share that information with him. Maybe if he knew about them, he’d no longer want to help her—not that she wanted his help—but she enjoyed his company. No man had made her feel cared for other than Grandpa in a long time, and she rather enjoyed that element of their relationship. She frowned. Was she taking advantage of him to want even that much, when she was supposedly a widow in mourning?
“Would you like me to leave this here so you can read over it tonight? I could come by and pick it up on the morrow.”
“That would be nice. I’d like to read through it so I’ll know all of the rules.” Grandpa would like to see it, too. How come he hadn’t known about the handbook?
Gabe rose and held out his hand to her. “I have an appointment to talk with a man about buying one of my horses, so I need to go.”
She allowed him to help her up, enjoying the feel of his strong warm palm next to hers. He was always the gentleman, unlike Tom. She stood a few feet from Gabe and realized she didn’t want him to leave, but he needed to. Grandpa would be back soon, and who knew when Jo would…
He rolled up the handbook and held it out to her. “See you tomorrow?”
She smiled and nodded, knowing she’d be counting the hours.
He mounted his fine horse, tipped his hat, and winked at her. A blush warmed her cheeks, and she waved, enamored like a schoolgirl. She watched him ride away, peeked at Michael, then turned to start supper. Another man strode into her camp—a scowling man she’d never seen before.
“Can I help you?”
He strode a few feet from her and stopped, his gaze shifting from hers to behind her where Gabe had been.
“Let me give you fair warning about that gambler.”
“What?” She didn’t know any gamblers, other than Tom. But how could this man possibly associate her with him? “Who are you talking about?”
“Gabe Coulter. You’d best stay away from the charming snake.”
Lara lifted her hand to her throat. “What did he do to you?”
“Not me, my brother. He stole his hard-earned money when my brother gambled at his table. The loss cost my brother his family—and me, my brother. He’s not a man who can be trusted.”
Just that fast, the stranger stormed off.
Lara swallowed the egg-sized lump in her throat. Gabe was a gambler? A man who lured unsuspecting cowboys, like Tom, to his table in hopes of stealing their wages?
Could the stranger be mistaken? Who was he? And why should she believe him? She shook her head. His enmity was too real. He must be speaking the truth. Lara fell back against the side of the wagon and stared at the book in her hand—Gabe’s book. She remembered the day she first bumped into him as he exited the hotel, dressed in his dark suit, his skin fairer than it was today. She’d thought him a suave businessman, but maybe she was wrong.
How could she have fallen for another untrustworthy man?
Half an hour after Gabe left, Grandpa rode Sunny into camp. He dismounted, tended to the horse, then hurried toward her, smiling. “I got some news.”
Lara stirred the soup then straightened and rubbed a kink in her lower back. “Good news, I hope.”
He nodded. “The soldiers are gonna let us move up to the northern border of the Unassigned Lands so that we’ll be on the starting line of the race on the twenty-second.”
Lara smiled. “That is good news.” She’d wondered how they would have any chance at getting land when they first had to cross the sixty-seven-mile-wide strip of land that paralleled the Kansas border before they even reached the beginning of the Unassigned Lands. “So when do we cross the Cherokee Outlet?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
A loud roll of thunder rattled the sky, as if displeased with the news. Lara looked up, as did Grandpa. Rain would only make things harder for them.
“I hope we don’t get much rain tonight. If the river swells, it will make crossing more difficult.” Grandpa leaned over the soup pot and sniffed. “Smells good.”
Lara smiled, knowing it smelled the same as it did most nights. If only she had a piece of beef or chicken to add to the pot, but no one had any to spare. At least Grandpa had caught a turtle earlier. Although not her favorite meat, it did make the weak soup a bit hardier.
“Grandpa! You’re back.”
She turned to see Michael crawling out from under the wagon. Quickly, she grabbed a rag and dipped it in the bucket then carried it to her son and relieved him of the stickiness on his fingers, as well as what was left of the peppermint candy.
“I wasn’t done with that.” Michael’s lower lip pooched out.
“You may have some more tomorrow, but you’ve had enough for now. Supper will be ready soon.”
“Me and the boy will walk to the river and get some water for the goats.”
“All right. Have you seen Jo?”
He shook his head and grabbed two buckets, and then he and Michael left camp.
Lara looked around. She’d only unpacked the things she needed most, but packing would still take a bit of time. She dreaded moving out of Kansas but was excited over the fact that she was leaving the state for the first time. Would they find a new home in the Oklahoma Territory?
God alone knew.
Jo smiled at the trio of cowboys that surrounded her and her new friend, Melinda. She’d hated leaving Caldwell, but she never expected she would meet so many interesting people while traveling.
“Did you really fight Indians?” Melinda batted her eyes at Pete, the most handsome of the three Texans.
“Yep. Some Apaches snuck across the Red River into Texas and tried to steal some of the boss’s cattle. We couldn’t let them get away with the beasts, so we shot at the Injuns and they shot back.”
“Was anyone hurt? Did you kill any of the savages?”
Jo nearly rolled her eyes at Melinda’s fascination with Indians. Most of the Indians she’d seen were the peaceful type, who only wanted to survive and be left alone. She’d even read about some Indians who were part of the Civilized Tribes who were doctors and lawyers. She and Lara had traded milk with a family who were part Cherokee for small game more than once. “So, why are ya’ll in Kansas? Seems like you’d start the run on the southern border.”
Rafe, the tallest and thinnest of the group, pushed his hat up on his forehead. “Came up here to deliver several dozen horses and are headed back. Thought we’d give the run a try and see if we could get land of our own. If not, we’ll keep on going back to Texas.”
“What a brilliant idea.” Melinda clapped her hands.
Jo liked the girl, who was the same age as she, but she was learning that Melinda could
be annoying and immature.
Buck, the most homely of the three, stepped closer to Jo and smiled, revealing wide front teeth that stuck out too far—probably how he came by his name. “Yer about the prettiest thing I ever did see with all that golden hair and them eyes as blue as the sky.”
Jo tried not to show the repulsion she felt. She might talk to cowboys, but she’d never let one get close. She had lofty plans for her life that didn’t include a smelly husband who lived in a crumbling shack. She wanted a pretty house with shiny wood floors, all the food she could eat, and a handsome husband with deep pockets, and if she had to use the beauty God had blessed her with to get it, she would.
She turned to Melinda. “It’s nearly suppertime. I need to get back to camp.”
Buck sidled up to her again, his elbow stuck out like a broken wing. “I’d be happy to escort you, ma’am.”
Jo shook her head. “That isn’t necessary.”
The man’s congenial expression darkened. “What’s the matter? Am I not good lookin’ enough for yer hoity-toity ways?”
Jo blinked, surprised by his swift change. “No, it’s just that I don’t want my pa seeing me with men he doesn’t know. He’s a sure shot and doesn’t like fellows following me around.”
Rafe nudged Buck in the arm. “C’mon. You don’t want to mess with a hair-trigger pa and get shot before you even get a chance to own your own land.”
Pete nodded his agreement, but Buck still frowned. Jo tried to soften the tension. “Perhaps I could tell him about you, and maybe tomorrow you could meet him rather than taking him by surprise this evening.”
Buck’s shoulders lowered as if he’d relaxed. “That sounds like a fine idea.” He took her hand, bent, and slobbered a kiss on the back of it.
Jo struggled not to shudder, and forced a smile. She waved, trying to ignore the glistening spot on the back of her hand. “Until tomorrow.”
Melinda took her arm and hurried her away from the cowboys. “I thought you said your pa was dead.”
Stomach curdling, Jo wiped her hand on her skirt. “He is, but that was all I could think of to get rid of him.”
Chuckling, Melinda shook her head. “You’re a sharp one, Joline Jensen. I’d have never thought to lie my way out of such a situation. I probably would have fainted if he had’a kissed me.”
“Well, that’s the only time he will ever kiss me.” Her stomach rolled, and she pressed her palm against it.
“What about tomorrow? What will you do then?”
“He’ll never find our camp in all this disarray, and I plan to stick close to home tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right, because you’ll have a hard time explaining that you don’t have a father.”
“Maybe I could pass off my grandpa as him, but then he’d never go along. And Lara would be livid if I brought a man back with me.”
They wove around campsites, tents, wagons, and staked-out horses and cattle. Most people nodded a greeting, but some didn’t even look their way. Jo wondered what she was doing in such a place. She was meant for something better, she could feel it in her bones. She was meant for silk not shabby calico. For diamonds not dust. She just knew it.
Suddenly someone stepped into her path, and she bumped into a solid chest.
The man grabbed her arms, steadying her, and she looked up. A pair of intriguing blue eyes stared back at her from a relatively handsome face. His lips turned up to create a cocky smile. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
“We have nothing. Please unhand me, sir.” Tired of pushy men, Jo flipped back her head and stared the man in the eye.
“What if I don’t want to unhand you?”
“What if I decide to scream?” She lifted an eyebrow. “There are plenty of people around who will rush to my aid.”
The man chuckled. “Maybe. Maybe not. They’re all busy with their own business.”
“C’mon, Jo, we need to go.” Melinda’s voice trembled, revealing her anxiety.
The man’s eyes flicked toward Melinda with a show of disinterest, then back to Jo. “Why don’t you stay and spend some time with me? We could have a good time, and I got a big fat steak ready to cook.”
Jo couldn’t remember the last time she had steak, but she couldn’t endure this man’s company. More than likely, he would drive away her appetite. “Thank you for the offer, but I need to get back or my five brothers will come searching for me, and you don’t want them to find us alone.”
For the first time, the confidence left his eyes. He seemed to be mulling over her comment, and then he turned her loose. He reached up as if to trail a finger down her cheek, but she jerked her head back. “Too bad, pretty miss. We could have had a good time.”
Melinda tugged on Jo’s arm, and she hurried away with her friend. If she didn’t know better she’d think there was a run on women, not land. Jo didn’t mind the company of a handsome, suave man like Mark Hillborne. In fact, she welcomed it and hoped she could find his store if she ever got to Guthrie. Maybe he’d even give her a job, and then she could get a place of her own.
Melinda sighed. “I sure wish I was pretty and could attract men like you. And you’re so brave. Weren’t you quiverin’ in your petticoats back there?”
“Naw. You have to show a man you’re not afraid, or they’re more likely to take advantage of you. Just face them square on, and even if you’re scared spitless, don’t let them know it.”
“I could never do that. Even my own brothers make me tremble at times.”
“It’s hard for a woman to get by on her own. We need men, so you might as well get used to that fact.” And she definitely needed a man—a wealthy man—to set her plan of living in a fine home in action. She simply had to find the right one. But maybe she already had. If Mark was as wealthy and as prosperous as he was a braggadocio, he might just be the man for her. He certainly was handsome enough with his sandy brown hair, deep blue eyes, and muscular frame. She sighed.
All she had to do was figure out a way to snag the man and get him to marry her.
Chapter 15
Lara stood up in the stirrups and stared at the long row of soldiers, looking dapper in their uniforms, lined up in front of an ocean of prairie schooners. Everyone was eager to be off and on their way across the Cherokee Outlet and moving closer to the Unassigned Lands. Jo had been especially helpful in packing this morning, and they’d gotten done early, so Grandpa suggested Lara ride to the front of the line to see if she could learn anything while he greased the wagon wheels and got the livestock ready to travel.
An officer rode forward and slowly made his way between the soldiers and the people, shouting instructions. When he drew near her, he said, “I expect everyone to keep in line, and I’ll treat each of you the same, so no fighting or rushing to get ahead. We leave at ten when the bugles sound. No one crosses early.”
“That’s Captain Woodson.” A mounted man to her right said as he gestured at the soldier.
Lara nodded. Excitement swirled inside her. Soon they’d be in the Oklahoma Territory. Would the land be the same? Would they see Indians? And if so, would they be hostile toward the people moving across their lands?
A short while later, the captain rode back in their direction. He lifted his arm, and mounted buglers all down the line raised their horns. When he lowered his arm in a swift jerk, the bugles sounded. All around her, the excitement was tangible—something you could feel in each person and animal.
Captain Woodson shouted, “Forward—march!”
The cavalry soldiers turned their horses, and the lead wagons and horsemen started forward into Oklahoma. She reined Sunny around and trotted back to their camp, not far from the front of the line. All was packed when she arrived, and Grandpa, Jo, and Michael were seated on the wagon, ready to go. The goats bleated at her as if scolding Grandpa for tying them behind the wagon again.
“The lead wagons have started moving.”
“We heard the horns, Mama.” Michael stood up, bouncing on
the seat.
“Did anyone give instructions?” Grandpa lifted his hat, brushed down his already sweaty hair, and then replaced it.
“Not much. Just that we should stay in line and each of us would be treated the same.”
Jo looked around at the rows of wagons surrounding them. “I don’t see how they expect all of these wagons to stay in one line.”
Lara shrugged. “We’ll have to cross the Bluff Creek Bridge. I’m guessing we can only do that a wagon at a time.”
An hour later, as the mob narrowed into a single line in preparation to cross the Bluff Creek Bridge, Lara stared at the mass of humanity. There were wagons that looked brand new being pulled by strong stock, while other folks had rickety ones pulled by a broken-down horse or slow-plodding oxen. There were buggies of all kinds, schooners, buckboards, even a few people pushing handcarts. And there were hundreds of riders on horseback, many who wore the GAR patch on their sleeve, with all they owned tied up behind their saddles.
Lara yawned. The day was sunny and warm, in spite of the rains they’d received the night before. The pace was achingly slow, but they were now close to the bridge. Once on the other side, she’d trade places with Jo and see that everyone had some lunch.
As they rode up the trail leading to the bridge, Lara noticed a big covered wagon pulled by four horses that had the words The Great War Show printed on the canvas cover.
“Look at that!” Behind them, a large wagon hauled a single-mast ship. “What do you think they plan to do with that on the prairie?”
Grandpa shook his head. “Gives a whole new meaning to prairie schooner.”
Lara chuckled. “Look at that boat, Michael.”
Her son oohed and aahed as they watched the big wagon circle around and out of sight. It seemed everyone’s spirits were high, and many were singing. Still, most every man she saw was armed. Every now and then, a shot rang out and someone bagged a meadowlark, jackrabbit, or prairie dog.
As she reached the end of the bridge and had the advantage of high ground, she spied an unusually tall, old-fashioned buggy pulled by two shaggy yellow horses. A gangly-legged colt trotted alongside, nuzzling at its mother. A woman drove the wagon, holding the reins in one hand and a baby in the other. A tow-headed boy followed along behind, lobbing clods of dirt at a disgruntled cow. As long as Lara lived, she’d never forget the sights she’d seen this day.
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