Amanda tapped her foot impatiently. Anything to keep from revealing that his dire predictions were beginning to get through to her.
“And that doesn’t even take Indians into consideration,” he continued. “Or the rattlesnakes, the cholera, and even the weather. You may think you’ve seen wind and lightning since that little storm we just had. But that was a spring shower compared to what we’ll face once we hit the high country. We could get pounded with hail. It could even snow on us before we’re through the passes, and the lot of us could freeze to death. Think about it. You’ve got a younger sister to be responsible for. Is that how you want her to end up?”
Amanda swallowed hard. What he was telling her was the complete opposite of what Pa had read in the guidebook he’d bought. Yet something in the wagon master’s face seemed honest. Trustworthy. He’d been over this route before, and he should know more than the books reported. But still—“Well, the Lord has been with Sarah and me up till now, and the Bible says He’ll take care of His own always,” she reasoned.
Mr. Holloway’s demeanor hardened. “I’d say that’s a mite presumptuous, myself. Expecting Almighty God to come to your rescue when you don’t use the sense He gave you.”
Amanda broke eye contact and lowered her gaze to the gritty ground. She took a few steps away, thinking over his words. If she hadn’t been enduring the railings of her own conscience along that same line, she’d have been livid. She could not deny that the Lord had already spared them from impending doom twice—and they’d barely begun the journey. Perhaps this was the last chance He was giving them to turn around.
But to what? an inner voice harped.
She stopped and turned. “I want to thank you for coming, Mr. Holloway. I know you mean well. But I’m afraid Sarah and I have to keep going west. We don’t have anyplace else to go. If we die along the way, then it’s God’s will. But we’re still going to try.”
He slowly shook his head.
“We don’t expect you to understand or to feel concern over us. You gave Pa’s money back, and we don’t have the right to count on you to look after us. We’ll just keep on by ourselves. We’ll be all right. Now, I’m sure your duties are calling you back to the train. I wish you good day.”
He didn’t respond for several moments, just stared. Then his expression flattened, along with his tone. “Well, now, that’s where we differ. About the last thing I can do is leave the two of you here alone.” He hesitated again, a look of resignation settling over his sun-bronzed features. “The train will camp by Alcove Spring tonight so we can start getting everyone across the Big Blue tomorrow. Pack up in the morning and come join up. Travel with the company.”
“But—”
“Do it.” Without further comment, he swung up into his saddle and galloped away.
Amanda wanted more than anything to ignore Seth Holloway. But for some unexplainable reason, she could not will herself to do so. Nor could she restrain her eyes from gazing after him.
CHAPTER 8
He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?” Sarah asked, emerging from the wagon to lounge on the seat, her journal in hand. “In an outdoors sort of way, I mean.”
“Hm?” Dragging her gaze from the departing horseman, Amanda turned.
“The wagon master. He’s handsome, I said. Not at all the way I pictured him from things you told me.”
Amanda barely suppressed a smirk.
“Well, not that he appeals to me, of course,” Sarah amended. “I fully intend to find someone much more refined, myself. But in general, Mr. Holloway seems to have a certain… charm.”
Charm! Amanda thought incredulously. That’s the last attribute I’d assign to Seth Holloway. “I didn’t pay him that much mind,” she finally said.
Sarah gave a dreamy sigh. “The man I’m looking for must be head and shoulders taller than anyone I’ve ever met, and stronger, with gorgeous thick hair, expressive eyes and lips, and a voice that sings across the strings of my heart. And he’ll be rich, of course. I refuse to settle for less.”
The raspy voice alone would eliminate Mr. Holloway, Amanda decided, but didn’t bother answering. After all, his eyes were too dark to be very expressive anyway, and his lips had yet to reflect anything but his anger and irritation. She wondered absently if he ever bothered to smile.
“Are we going to do what he asked?”
“You mean ordered, don’t you?”
“Well, are we?”
Amanda met her sister’s questioning face as Mr. Holloway’s blunt accusation about presuming upon God came to mind. Loath as she was to admit it, his remark did have merit. “Well, at—at first I didn’t plan to,” she hedged, “but already in the few days we’ve been on the trail, God has had to rescue us twice. We really shouldn’t expect Him to come to our aid every time we encounter any sort of peril.”
Sarah did not respond.
“The fact is,” Amanda went on, “the wagon master is right. Sooner or later we’re going to face some serious difficulties we won’t be able to handle on our own. With the other emigrants there’d be someone who could help us. Folks look out for each other. I’m afraid if we don’t join the train it could be to our folly.”
“I see what you mean.” Sarah glanced westward momentarily, in the direction their visitor had taken. Then she sat, opened her diary and began writing once more, a fanciful smile curving her lips.
Amanda saw that Seth Holloway was no longer within sight. Reaching into the wagon, she retrieved her sewing and returned to the crate she’d occupied earlier. If the man had not appeared at their campsite out of the blue, she’d never have guessed the other wagons were within such close proximity. They, too, must have had to wait out the horrific rain. Oh well, she concluded, knotting the last stitches in the apron she’d been making, if she and Sarah were actually hoping to meet up with them in the near future, it would be wise to turn in soon so they could get an early start. She bit off the remaining thread. After making swift work of attending to all the evening chores, Amanda hurried to the wagon, where she discovered Sarah already asleep in bed. She shed her cotton dress and tugged on her night shift, then took her place beside the younger girl on the hard mattress. But her mind remained far too active to relinquish consciousness easily. In the stillness broken only by the uneven cadence of the night creatures, she analyzed Mr. Holloway’s unexpected visit.
Something about the man disturbed her in a way she had never experienced before. It wasn’t so much his domineering manner, or even his patronizing attitude toward her and her sister—those she could understand. But when he’d realized they were determined to make the trip with or without the benefit of company, he’d mellowed. For a few seconds he’d even seemed… kind. And she preferred him the other way. Sarah was right. Seth Holloway did possess a certain rugged, outdoors look that some might consider handsome. But aware that the man had proclaimed her brainless and foolhardy, Amanda saw no reason to concern herself with such inane fantasies as trying to convince him otherwise. With a sigh, she fluffed her pillow and settled down on its plumpness.
Seth, on the last watch of the night, poured the dregs of the coffee into his mug, then drank it slowly as he walked the outside perimeter of the circled wagons. Spying Red keeping a lookout on the westward side, he joined him. “All’s quiet, eh?”
His friend nodded. “Ain’t seen hide nor hair of them Injuns or any other creatures lurkin’ about.”
“Me neither.” Seth tossed the dregs from the mug into the bushes. He would have preferred not to have had an encounter with the Shelbys, much less have to talk about it, but it needed to be aired. His partner would also be affected by their joining up with the train. He cleared his throat. “There’s something I might as well tell you.”
Red looked up, his brow furrowed. “You happened on some other trouble?”
Seth shrugged. “Not exactly. Well, maybe. I, uh, spotted the Shelby sisters trailing us some ways back.”
“What?” His partner’s jaw went s
lack, his expression tinged with a combination of humor and disbelief.
“You got it. Fool females took it upon themselves to set out after us. I tried to persuade them to turn around while they still could, but it was no good. Trying to get through to that older one’s like butting up against a stone wall.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Stubbornest gal I ever did come across.”
“Hm. Worse than that sister-in-law of yours is, eh? The one who soured you on marriage, I mean.”
Seth didn’t dignify the comment with anything but a glower. The mere thought of his younger brother being linked up with that conniving, sharp-tongued Eliza always made him angry. Red snickered, then rubbed his jaw in thought. “Well, if they made it this far on their own, I s’pose they have as much a shot at goin’ west as anybody else.”
“Maybe. At least on the easy end of things,” Seth grated. “Figure if we’re gonna end up playing nursemaid, we might as well have them within reach. I told them to join up with us this evening. Who knows, they might get their fill when they stare the Big Blue in the face.”
Neither spoke for several seconds.
“Guess I’ll head on back to my end,” Seth said with resignation. “Folks’ll soon be up and cooking breakfast before those cockamamie Sunday services they insist on having.”
“Strange comment, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so—’specially comin’ from the grandson of a circuit-ridin’ preacher.”
Seth branded him with a glare. “See you later.”
“Sure. Could be an interestin’ day.”
Ignoring his partner’s chuckle, Seth strode away.
When Amanda came within sight of the train of emigrants, the next evening, the first thing she noticed was the warm glow of lantern light that crowned the circle of wagons like a halo. It bolstered her spirits, as did the happy music drifting from the encampment from fiddles and harmonicas. Drawing nearer, Amanda heard soft laughter and the sound of children and barking dogs.
“I think I’m going to like being with the others,” Sarah said happily.
Before Amanda could answer, her eyes locked on to Seth Holloway’s where he leaned against the nearest rig with his hands in his pockets as if waiting for the two of them to arrive.
His expression unreadable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward them. “Pull up over there,” he instructed with a slight jerk of his head.
Amanda nodded, guiding the team to an empty space in the formation. As she did so, a threesome of men approached. “Evenin’, ladies,” a solid-chested older man said, thumbing his hat. “Name’s Randolph. Nelson Randolph. This here’s Ben Martin and Zeke Sparks,” he said, tipping his head to the left and right to indicate a rawboned man in his early thirties and a narrow-faced one with a long nose and prominent ears. “We’ll help get you into place.”
“Why, thank you.” Amanda accepted his proffered hand as she climbed down. “I’m Amanda Shelby.”
“And I’m Sarah, her sister.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Randolph said, reaching to help Sarah also. “We’ll be neighbors of yours along the way, so you’ll soon get to know us an’ some of the others in this mob.”
“An’ which ones ya should keep an eye out for,” Ben Martin said with a good-natured wink. He nudged his lanky pal in the ribs.
In a matter of moments the mules had been unhitched and the wagon rolled into the open slot, its tongue beneath the back of the wagon ahead of it.
“When you gals get settled in,” Mr. Randolph said, “make yourselves to home. Mosey in by the big fire and introduce yourselves, if you want to. Folks generally do most of their visitin’ in camp. Or just sit an’ listen to the music, if you druther. With it bein’ Sunday, folks seem to like hymns best.”
Amanda smiled. “We’ll do that. Thanks for your help.”
As the men left, she glanced around self-consciously at the several curious but friendly faces turned their way and returned a few smiles. No one was familiar, but then Amanda hadn’t actually met more than one or two emigrants back in Independence before Pa had taken sick. The only person to whom she’d spoken was Mr. Holloway, and he was nowhere to be seen. “Well,” she said, turning to Sarah, “we’re here.”
“Yes.” The younger girl’s gaze swept across the open circle, where a few couples were blending their voices in song. Clusters of children frolicked everywhere.
Amanda recognized her sister’s peculiar smile and its accompanying blush immediately. Habitually checking to see which young man in particular had caught Sarah’s eye, she noticed a gangly youth who extracted himself from a group of others and sauntered toward them.
“Evening, ladies,” he said, grinning broadly on his approach. He doffed his hat in an elaborate gesture, revealing curly brown hair, then plunked it back on, blue eyes sparkling as his attention settled on Sarah. “I’m Alvin Rivers. Delighted to welcome you to camp.”
Amanda noted the young man’s clothing seemed of finer cut and quality than that of the men they’d met earlier.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Rivers,” Sarah gushed. “My name is Sarah Shelby, and this is my older sister, Amanda.”
Amanda cringed.
Alvin gave her a respectful nod, then switched back to Sarah again. “Anything I might do to help you get settled in for the night? Check your wheels? Grease the hubs?”
“Grease the hubs?” the younger girl echoed in puzzlement.
“Right. We do it most every night, miss. With the bucket of grease hanging back by the axle.”
Both girls followed his gesture.
Amanda hadn’t missed his surprise at Sarah’s question. She had a vague recollection of Pa mentioning something about that chore, but she’d neglected to do anything about it up until now. How fortunate that Mr. Holloway wasn’t around to witness her stupidity. “Thank you, Mr. Rivers,” she said. “Sarah and I would be most grateful to have you tend to greasing the hubs this evening.” While I watch to see how it’s done!
“Glad to, miss.” He tipped his hat and started toward the back of the wagon, with them in his wake. “Where do you two hail from?” he asked casually over his shoulder.
“Pennsylvania,” Sarah answered. “Tunkhannock. And you?”
“Baltimore, Maryland. My aunt and uncle are looking to buy some prime land in the Oregon Territory where there’s room to spread out. Too many people were bottled up in the little valley we lived in back east.” He took down the grease bucket and set to work.
“Excuse me, miss,” Amanda heard someone say. She turned to see a pleasant-faced grandmotherly woman smiling at her, accenting deep laugh creases on either side of her smile. “Since it’s late, and all, I thought you and your sister might like some stew. We’ve finished up, but there’s plenty left in the pot. Name’s Minnie Randolph. Husband and me are three wagons down.” She pointed in that direction.
“Why, thank you, Mrs. Randolph. You’re most kind. I’m Amanda, and she’s Sarah. Shelby.”
“Glad to know you. When we heard you two were coming, I figured you’d be tired by the time you got here. And don’t worry about a thing, you hear? A lot of folks’re gonna be keeping an eye out for you gals on this trip. We didn’t get to know your pa, but he seemed a decent sort the little time we saw him readyin’ for the journey. Downright shame he had to pass on so sudden-like.” Obviously noting the distress the reminder had caused, she quickly cleared her throat. “You just come right on down as soon as you’re ready.”
Amanda nodded her thanks. She turned back to Sarah, catching the end of something Alvin Rivers was saying as he finished the last wheel.
“…so you wouldn’t mind if I come by of an evening and show you around?” His voice cracked on the last word.
“That would be very nice,” Sarah answered.
And once all the other eligible young men in the group catch a glimpse of my fair and lissome sister, you’ll have to stand in line, Amanda couldn’t help thinking.
“Sarah,” she called. “We’ve
been offered some supper. Let’s go wash up.”
Her sister gave a nod of assent, then turned to Alvin. “Thanks for helping out with the wagon. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, miss,” he said, hanging the bucket back on its hook. He took a large kerchief from a back pocket and wiped his hands. “Tomorrow.” The grin he flashed at her broadened to include Amanda. “Miss Shelby.”
Amanda nodded. She bit back a giggle as he moved backward, almost stumbling over a rock in his path before he turned and strode away. Then, aware of someone else’s scrutiny, she glanced curiously around. Part of her expected to find Seth Holloway’s critical gaze fixed on her, ready to find fault, but it wasn’t the wagon master after all.
Two wagons ahead, a tall, somber man stared unabashedly. He held a fussing little girl in his arms. Another small child, a boy a year or so older, clung to his knees. He patted the towhead and said something Amanda couldn’t hear, then bent and scooped him up. He placed the two tots inside his wagon and climbed in after them.
“I’m ready,” Sarah Jane said, coming to her side.
“Hm? Oh. I’ll be just a minute.” Accepting the dampened cloth her sister held out, Amanda scrubbed her own face and hands, then brushed her hair and retied the ribbon. “Best we not keep Mrs. Randolph waiting.” Shaking some trail dirt from the hem of her skirt, she fluffed it out again, and the two went to join the kind older woman.
After enduring even those few days of their own inadequate cooking, their neighbor’s hearty stew tasted like a feast fit for royalty. Amanda relished every drop, mopping the last speck from her bowl with the light biscuits, even as steady, sad crying carried from the next wagon. It caught at her heart.
The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier Page 45
