The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier

by Peggy Darty, Darlene Franklin, Sally Laity, Nancy Lavo

  Amanda’s heart tripped over itself. “Mr. Holloway?”

  “Mm-hmm. Told me to let him know if we needed anything. I know you think he’s domineering and stodgy, but I found him to be rather… nice.”

  “Well, I suppose everyone has his good points,” Amanda hedged. The man probably kept tabs on everyone in his train. Yes, that had to be it. Of course, chances were he’d come to see if the problem was cholera, even yet hoping to force her and Sarah to stay behind!

  But, on the other hand, there was no harm in allowing a tiny part of her to dream he truly cared… as long as she didn’t voice the thought aloud. No one needed to know such a seemingly inconsequential gesture would be locked inside the treasure house of her heart forever. After all, someone destined for spinsterhood could probably use a few secret dreams to look back on in later lonely years. Pretending to adjust her bonnet during an elaborate stretch, Amanda turned to see if the wagon master was anywhere within sight.

  Seth nudged his mount over a knoll, keeping an eye on the straggling cattle that plodded in the wake of the wagon train. Not many head had been lost up to this point. Not many travelers, either, considering how quickly and effectively an outbreak of cholera could wipe out an entire company. They’d been pretty lucky so far.

  He’d noticed Amanda Shelby was up and about, too, after wearing herself out. Not that he cared, particularly, but someone with her spirit deserved a quick recovery, and he was glad the Almighty saw fit to give her one.

  Strange, how he’d started attributing occasional circumstances to God’s hand of late. Gramps would like that. Could he be smiling down from the pearly gates now? Next thing, Seth would find himself going back to praying on a regular basis, dusting off the little black Bible he’d kept out of Gramps’s possessions. Wouldn’t that be something. He smirked, hardly bothered by the fact that the concept no longer seemed so unthinkable. He must be getting old.

  Shifting in his saddle, Seth felt the letter he’d gotten at the fort crinkle in the pocket of his trousers. He compressed his lips. So Liza wanted him back. The gall of that woman! After worming her way into his younger brother’s life for no other reason than to spite Seth, she’d seen the error of her ways and wanted to call it quits. As if he’d go behind Drew’s back like that! He grimaced and shook his head.

  Time to get rid of that fool thing before Red came across it. Removing the papers from his pocket, Seth tore them to shreds and let the wind scatter the pieces far and wide.

  Women. There sure was a shortage of truly honest and decent ones. Ones with real spirit who could bring out the best in a man, make him want to settle down.

  When a certain feminine face and form drifted across his consciousness, Seth wasn’t quite so quick to squelch the green-eyed vision… even though he figured he had a lot of good years left to boss trails while he saved up for that thoroughbred horse ranch he’d always dreamed of.

  Urging Sagebrush after a cow that was too far off the trail, Seth spotted a familiar-looking cloth item on the ground and swung down to pick it up.

  CHAPTER 16

  Just before going over the sloping shoulder of the mountains, the girls paused for a last glance backward in the sage-scented morning, memorizing a scene they were unlikely ever to see again. The shining Sweetwater River, after its tempestuous roar through Devil’s Gate, meandered lazily beneath a lucid aquamarine sky. Independence Rock looked like a slumbering turtle in the vast expanse of dry sage, and on the eastern horizon, misty hills discreetly hid their cache of new graves.

  The trail ascending into the Rockies was lined with crusted snowbanks soiled with mud, twigs, and animal tracks. The route grew increasingly rough and rugged, some portions necessitating the use of chains and double teams to drag wagons one at a time up the steep grades. The temperature, too, reached new extremes. In the pleasant sunshine, rivulets of melted ice would trickle downhill to water sporadic patches of green starred with brilliant yellow flowers and clumped with iris. But at night, folks shivered around the insufficient sagebrush fires, longing for some of the spare blankets only recently discarded.

  Hard days later they crested the summit, where massive clouds churned threateningly across the curved sky. Early snow dusted the range to the north. Sarah hunkered down into the turned-up collar of her coat and frowned at her sister as Amanda drove onward. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to cross the Great Divide?” she hollered above the howling wind. “Somehow, I expected to see a dramatic gorge, or something spectacular—but it’s only a grassy meadow!” She perused the wide, bumpy plain between two solid walls of impassible mountains.

  “My thoughts exactly.” Amanda grinned as a gust flailed her scarf. Then she sobered. “They say Dr. Marcus Whitman knelt with a flag and a Bible and prayed over the West on his first trip through this pass; before he ever set up the mission where he and his wife ministered to the Cayuse Indians.”

  Sarah pondered the tragic end of the courageous missionaries a moment before turning to a cheerier thought. “Well, at least the place isn’t as rough and rugged as the route we had to take to get here. But I still would have expected some unforgettable landmark to indicate the crossing of the Great Divide!”

  Amanda nodded in agreement.

  The train rolled steadily through South Pass, then began the downward grade to the west. They paused at a spring for an icy ceremonial toast from the westward-flowing water, then continued down to camp beneath the willows at Little Sandy Creek.

  After supper, Sarah Jane left Amanda working on sewing projects and headed toward the Hill wagon.

  Bethany and Tad came running the minute they saw her.

  “Look at the pretty flowers I picked, Miss Sarah,” Bethany said, proudly displaying the colorful wildflowers in her hand.

  “And I found a real nice stone.” Tad held out his open palm. “Pa says I can keep it, too.”

  Sarah smiled. “That’s nice. I’m happy for both of you.” Their father laid aside the worn harness he was examining and stood. “Mind keeping an eye on my pair while I go talk to your sister?” he asked.

  Meeting his gaze, Sarah felt the color heighten in her cheeks. “Not at all. I’ll take the children for a walk.”

  “Thanks. Much obliged.” With that, he strode away.

  Sarah wondered what he and Amanda would be discussing, then filled her lungs and exhaled. A person could have all kinds of things to talk about on an extended journey like this one. Maybe he was weary of having to look after their wagon in addition to his. Maybe he needed some mending done.

  “Will you tell us a story, Miss Sarah?” Bethy’s huge blue eyes rounded as she gazed raptly up at her.

  “A scary one,” Tad chimed in. “With dragons and sailing ships and—”

  His sister pouted. “No. One with princesses and castles.”

  Sarah Jane wrapped an arm around each of them and gave a light squeeze. “Tell you what. I’ll tell you my very favorite Bible story, about Naaman the leper and his little slave girl.”

  “Oh goody!” Bethany clapped. “I like that one, too!”

  Sewing the hem in a flannel baby gown, Amanda looked up as Jared came toward her. “Good evening,” she said politely.

  He removed his hat and inclined his head, then without waiting for an invitation, lowered himself to a comer of the blanket. His posture remained rigid. “Where is everybody?” she asked lightly, gazing hopefully past him for his brood.

  “The kids, you mean? Sarah took them for a walk.”

  Amanda gave an understanding nod. Something was in the air, she could feel it. Taking up her sewing again, her fingers trembled unaccountably, and she pricked her finger.

  He appeared nervous, too, fiddling with the brim of his hat, not quite meeting her gaze. “Amanda, I have something to ask you,” he began.

  Now she was more than a little uneasy. “Something wrong with one of the children?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation in a safe direction.

  “No, no. Nothing like that. Nothing l
ike that at all.”

  “Oh, well, have we been making pests of ourselves, then? Sarah and I? Taking up too much of their time?”

  He let out a slow breath. “This has nothing to do with Tad or Beth. Well, actually it does, sort of.”

  “I don’t understand.” Alarm bells were clanging in earnest inside Amanda’s head. Please, please, don’t let it be what I think it is, she prayed silently even as her heart began to throb with dread. Laying aside her project, she expended the enormous amount of effort required to look directly at him.

  “This’ll probably come as a shock, but I want you to hear me out. Don’t say a word till I’m done.”

  “But—”

  Jared’s straight brows dipped slightly, silencing her. He cleared his throat and looked around. Then his eyes met hers. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it’s been on my kids—and me—losing their mother.”

  “I understand, but—”

  This time a pleading look cut her off. “I came pretty near to changing my mind about heading west, when she died. But there was nothing to go back to.”

  Feeling a shiver course through her, Amanda held her hands out to the warmth of the fire a few feet away.

  “Gave more thought to dropping out when it seemed the trip was gonna be too hard on the young’uns. But then you and your sister stepped in.” He shrugged. “Now they’re normal kids again. Happy, enthusiastic about living out west. And you know what? So am I.”

  “Jared—”

  “Not till I’m done, remember? I might never have enough gumption to bring this up again.”

  Amanda clamped her lips together.

  “What I’m trying to say is, the kids and I would be mighty pleased if you were to go with us to wherever we settle. It’s not right for them to grow up without a ma. I’d marry you, of course, make no mistake about that. And I’d be good to you, Amanda. Real good. I think the world of you, and so do my little ones.”

  Her mouth parted, whether in shock or dismay, she really wasn’t sure. But her heart truly went out to Jared Hill. No one had to tell her he was a kind man, a sensitive and caring father. And she felt instinctively that he’d make a wonderful husband, too… if a woman were so inclined.

  He tipped his head self-consciously. “Oh, I know I’m not much to look at. You could do lots better than me, that’s for sure.”

  Amanda reached over with her hand and covered one of his, stilling its assault on the poor hat. “You, Jared Hill, are one of the nicest, most decent men I have ever met in my entire life. And you’ve done twice as much for us as we’ve ever done for you.”

  He smiled wryly. “Pretty sure I hear a but coming.”

  “Not for the reason you think,” she admitted, then rattled off the first thing that came to her head. “It isn’t you. It’s me. I already have my future all planned out… and it doesn’t include marriage—to anyone. There are things I want to do, on my own. And there’s Sarah to consider. I’m the only family she has.”

  “But your sister’s welcome to come with us, too,” he insisted. “We’d both look after her until she found someone she wanted to spend her life with. You wouldn’t have to worry about her at all.”

  Amanda hesitated.

  Jared filled the silence. “Well, it’d be enough if you’d just think on it. Would you do that? Who knows, maybe by the time we go the rest of the way to Oregon you might change your mind.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” she answered in what she sincerely hoped was a kind tone. “It’s not fair for you to get your hopes up too high.”

  “Then I won’t. But just know the offer stands. I’ll not beat you over the head with it. It’s up to you.”

  “Thank you, Jared. I really mean that. It’s the kindest, nicest offer I’ve had in my life.”

  He grinned, a touch of embarrassment tugging it off center. “I might have figured you’d had others.”

  “Only one. One too many,” she confessed bitterly.

  His expression softened into one of understanding. “Must have been a dimwit to let a fine woman like you slip away.” His face grew solemn and he cleared his throat once more, then ambled to his feet. “Well, I’d be obliged if you just gave the matter some thought. It’s all I ask.”

  Amanda got up also. “I will. Truly. But—”

  “I know.” With a cockeyed smile, Jared turned and went back in the direction of his wagon.

  A host of conflicting emotions made her watch after him until he was out of sight.

  That night, when the majority of folks gathered around the campfire for a hymn sing, Amanda remained behind. Taking down the empty wooden pail outside her wagon, she glanced toward the gathering. Hardships of the journey showed on everyone, clothing ragged and worn hung loosely on the thinner forms, but the faces aglow with the golden light of the big fire looked peaceful. It was no surprise to hear “Abide with Me” issue forth soon after the singing began. Smiling, she drew away and strolled the short distance to the stream.

  The quiet, gurgling brook had been pretty in the fading light of day, but now in the growing darkness it surpassed its former beauty as the ripples spilled over rocks in the streambed, catching remnants of firelight in shining ribbons of silver and gold. Amanda set down the bucket. Stooping near the edge, she trailed her fingers in the cold current, then licked her fingertips, enjoying the sweetness of pure water after so many bitter and cloudy springs.

  “Nice crisp evening,” a low voice said quietly.

  Amanda sprang to her feet.

  Several yards away, the wagon master stood after filling and capping his canteen. He thumbed the brim of his hat in a polite gesture.

  “Mr. Holloway.” She returned her attention to the creek as, to her dismay, the rate of her pulse increased.

  “You don’t cotton to singing’?”

  Her hands slid into her coat pockets in an effort to remain casual. “Normally I would. Just not tonight.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod slightly. “I was glad to see you back on your feet so soon after being sick.”

  Slowly raising her lashes, she peered toward him. Warmth coursed through her, almost making the cool, fall evening feel more like a midsummer night. She swallowed. “I heard you’d come by. Thank you for the concern.”

  His dark eyes were completely lost in the shadow of his hat brim, but Amanda could feel the intensity of his fixed gaze. “I like to make sure my company stays healthy.”

  Amanda didn’t respond.

  “You’ve been kind of a surprise—or rather, amazement—to me,” the man went on. “Never thought you’d stick out the hardships of the trip.”

  “I hope you didn’t lose any bets over it,” she blurted, immediately hating herself.

  But he chuckled.

  Amanda felt compelled to smooth over the hasty remark. “We’re thankful God has brought us this far.”

  With a soft huff, he started toward her. “You’re really serious about giving the Almighty all the credit, even though you’re the one doing all the work?”

  Sensing that he was baiting her, Amanda frowned. It seemed immensely important for the wagon master to understand her simple logic, her simple faith. “He gives us strength to do it.”

  “I suppose,” Closer now, he picked up the pail and dipped it into the stream, filling it to the brim, then set it next to her on the grass.

  Her surprise over the act of kindness almost clouded over the realization that he hadn’t made light of her convictions this time.

  Mr. Holloway continued to stare. “Oh.” He reached into an inside pocket of his buckskin jacket and drew out a calico bonnet. “I believe this belongs to you.”

  “Y—yes,” she gasped. “It does. I lost it a few days ago.” Taking the article from him, her fingers brushed his calloused hand, and a maddening blush flamed her face. It intensified with the awareness that the cloth retained the heat of his body. She knew better than to trust her voice. “Thank you,” she could only whisper.

 
He nearly smiled. “Wouldn’t want you coming down with something else, now, would we?” he teased.

  Amanda’s lips parted in disbelief at this glimpse of yet another aspect of his personality. He was far more complex than she’d given him credit for… and perhaps, far more fascinating. Realizing the dangerous turn her imaginings were taking, Amanda became aware that she was gawking at the man and clamped her mouth closed.

  “Well, I wouldn’t stay out here too long, Miss Shelby. Night brings out all kinds of thirsty animals.” He bent to pick up the water bucket, then motioned with his head for her to walk beside him.

  “Do you—?” Both of them spoke at once.

  Having paused at the same time as well, they smiled. He gestured for her to go first.

  Amanda only shook her head. “Never mind.” In an attempt to prolong the conversation she was on the verge of making some inane query regarding the trail. She was more curious as to what he had to say.

  “I… don’t suppose you like horses.”

  Completely taken by surprise, she turned her gaze fully on him. “I—they’re beautiful creatures. I’ve never had one of my own, of course, but who wouldn’t think they’re wonderful animals?”

  He showed no visible reaction. They had reached her wagon. Setting the pail up on the schooner within her easy reach, he then assisted her up as well.

  Conscious of the touch of his hands on her waist, Amanda had to remember to breathe as he lightly set her down. ‘Thank you, Mr. Holloway,” she managed as, with a half smile, he walked away.

  Inside the warmer confines of the bowed top, Amanda fought a peculiar assortment of giddy, fluttery sensations she had never before experienced. Left over from her bout with sickness, she rationalized. That was it. Surely her imaginings were getting the best of her. It was time to calm down.

  When at last she had regained her composure, she thought again of the unexpected marriage proposal—more than likely the cause of all this confusion—and knelt in the honey-colored lantern light.

  Dear heavenly Father, I thank You for the opportunity to come to You in prayer. You’ve been so merciful to Sarah and me over the many miles we’ve traveled. You’ve looked after us, kept us from harm, and given us so many blessings, so many friends.