“That’d be fine, ma’am. Thank you.”
“Independence Rock.” Anne picked up her pace as they walked between the wagons and the low, muddy river.
“Yes, we’re halfway now.” Elise smiled. Both she and Anne could be proud of this accomplishment, and what tales they would have to tell when they returned to England.
Lavinia, Rebecca, and Abby walked with them today.
“We’ll dance again tonight,” Lavinia said eagerly. Her parents had allowed her to attend the revels at Fort Laramie, the second fort on the trail. Rebecca wouldn’t permit her daughter to try on Anne’s gowns, but she’d allowed the loan of a gauzy shawl from India, and Lavinia had gone to the dance walking as tall as a princess. Anne had worn a dress that wasn’t a ball gown at all, but one she might wear to a country house dinner party. Even in that, a modest gray skirt and bodice, she’d caused a sensation at the fort.
Their friends in England would swoon from shock if they saw her now. Both Anne and Elise had lost weight, but they’d gained muscle and stamina. Despite their precautions, their faces had tanned. Their lips were chapped by the constant wind, and their hands had grown rough from hard labor. Even so, when Elise looked at Anne objectively, she thought her mistress was more beautiful than ever.
So, apparently, had the soldiers at Fort Laramie. Lavinia had coaxed the ladies into attending the dance. It was the first time Elise had danced in nearly a year, though Lady Anne had attended many parties and balls in last year’s season. Elise accompanied her to most of them but did not always join in the dancing. Neither woman had found herself without partners all evening at Fort Laramie, however. Elise would recall the commanding officer’s charming words to her for many a year.
“We get a lot of women traveling along the trail,” he’d said as they waltzed about the parade ground in the moonlight and the regimental band played. “But we seldom see such beauties as we have here tonight.” He’d gazed directly into her eyes as he spoke, and Elise had found herself blushing. Surely that statement was a bit bold for a man who had a wife present. But the commander’s lady was off dancing with Rob Whistler and some of the higher-ranking officers. Elise decided to take it impersonally. “Yes, we’ve some lovely young ladies in the wagon train,” she said.
Anne had been the center of a flock of officers and pioneer men. They cut in on each other furiously, and the poor girl had probably danced with more than fifty men. She returned to the camp exhausted but pleased that she had brought a bit of color into their lives. The only thing that could have made the evening better, Elise reflected, was if Thomas had stayed sober. He’d come and claimed her hand near midnight, and the whiskey on his breath was overpowering.
Eb Bentley hadn’t danced, but he’d warned her that he didn’t dance much. He was off guarding the wagons and livestock, a necessary precaution in view of the sizable Indian camp just outside the fort grounds. Eb always seemed to have guard duty when the musicians tuned up. Elise began to think it was his design. But what did it matter? He was only the scout, and his absence didn’t disappoint her in the least.
They camped beneath the mammoth rock on the plains the last afternoon of June. Elise and Anne quickly raised their tent while Thomas unhitched the mules. They no longer expected him to put it up for them. What had once been a complicated and frustrating task was now another ten-minute chore.
Since they’d formed the wagon circle early, they had time to bake. Several of the men had gone hunting, and they rode into camp bringing quarters of buffalo and tales of the hunt. By the time Elise had built a fire, they were parting out chunks of meat to each family.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Anne asked as she filled the coffeepot.
Elise shrugged. “This dress. I promised Lavinia I’d fix her hair. By the time we’re done with supper and cleaning up, I won’t have time to change my clothes. But I’ll help you dress if you wish to wear a gown.”
“I thought perhaps my green promenade dress,” Anne said, “but the evenings have been so warm of late that perhaps I’ll wear the one I wore at Fort Laramie.”
“It made a sensation with the soldiers,” Elise said. “I’m sure everyone here would love to see it again—it’s a beautiful dress.”
“Funny how we’re keeping our fanciest gowns in reserve,” Anne noted.
Elise smiled. “I fear we’d be snubbed again if they saw you in your full finery, my dear. They’d all think we imagined ourselves above them.”
“They already think that.”
“Several of the ladies act friendly to us now.” Elise didn’t add that nearly all the gentlemen seemed to find excuses to help them out. When Thomas wasn’t about, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Bachelors like the Adams brothers and Wilbur Harkness happened by their campfire morning and evening to ask whether the ladies had plenty of water and fuel. Most of them lingered to gaze at Anne as long as they could get away with it.
“Mr. Whistler promised us two days of rest,” Anne said, “though I wouldn’t exactly call laundry and baking rest.”
Elise smiled at her. “I suspect he was referring to the livestock getting the rest. We’ll work all day, for certain.”
“At least we’re capable of putting in two days of demanding labor now. I’d never have imagined it.” Anne clamped the top on the coffeepot and brought it to the fire pit. “Shall I put the grate on now?”
“Yes, and I’ll set the stew on that. Too bad we’ve no potatoes.”
“No, but the dumplings Rebecca taught you to make are almost as good.”
Elise heard a distant shout. She shielded her eyes and looked upward. “The boys are climbing the rock.”
Anne stood beside her. “Do you want to go up?”
“I think not. I’ll save my strength for this evening.”
That night’s gathering was held outside the wagon corral. The leaders felt there was little danger, but nevertheless three men were detailed to guard the encampment and make sure the livestock remained calm.
Elise and Anne walked to the bonfire with the Harkness family. The Adams brothers joined them, and Elise took note that Anne crossed the distance with Wilbur on her right and quiet Daniel Adams on her left. Lavinia had her own followers. Several of the young men watched her as the group neared the grassy expanse near the bonfire. As soon as the fiddler and the accordionist began to play, a fellow of about eighteen came to claim Lavinia. Wilbur took Anne’s hand and swept her away, much to Daniel’s chagrin. He wandered off toward a cluster of other single men. Mrs. Legity and Mrs. Libby came over to stand with Rebecca and Elise.
“That’s Johnny Klein with Lavinia,” Rebecca said. “He spends most days back with the herd, but he manages to see my Lavinia at least once a day. Wouldn’t surprise me if she heard a proposal before this journey’s over.”
Mrs. Legity’s lip curled. “So long as it’s not that Daniel Adams. He’s twice her age.”
“I doubt he’s much over thirty,” Rebecca said placidly. “Besides, he’d probably be in a better position to take care of her than one of these young pups would. He seems like a steady man, and he and his brother have the wherewithal to set up a prosperous farm.”
Rob Whistler, wearing a pale shirt that looked clean in the moonlight, strolled over to them. “Mrs. Legity, would you care to dance?”
The widow shed her arrogance and held out her hand. “Why, Mr. Whistler, it would be my pleasure.”
“Rob’s a good man,” Rebecca said. “Always dances with the widows first.”
Elise hadn’t thought about it, but she saw that Rebecca was right.
“Agnes Legity was in a snit earlier, going on about how Rob shouldn’t dance, since his wife isn’t here.” Rebecca smiled and shook her head. “She doesn’t seem to think that matters now.”
“Mr. Whistler is a man who can be trusted, I’m sure,” Elise said.
“Yes, I’d say so. Now Eb, he’s a different sort.”
“What do you mean?” Elise wasn’t sure whether to be shock
ed or not.
“Oh, not that he can’t be trusted. He can. You won’t likely see him out to dance though. That’s all I meant. But he’ll be right there in the morning, making sure everyone’s got what they need. And while we mend our wagons and do our washing, he’ll scout ahead for the next campsite and make sure the trail’s safe for us.”
“Well, Mrs. Harkness!”
Elise and Rebecca turned at the cheerful voice. Rebecca’s husband, Orrin, had come up behind them.
“Be you looking for a dance partner?” he asked.
“Don’t mind if I do since there aren’t any army officers about to dance with.”
Rebecca smiled at Elise and took Orrin’s hand. Elise stood alone for only a moment before Hector Adams approached her with a shy smile.
“Miss Finster?”
“Yes, sir?”
“May I?”
“Delighted.” She took his hand and stepped out with him in time to the music.
Eb walked slowly about the encampment, just within the circle of wagons. The oxen and mules were quiet tonight. Maybe the music coming from over near the bonfire soothed them. They’d made a big corral this time, with ropes tied between the wagons and boxes and gear piled up to discourage the animals from trying to get out.
Very few folks had stayed in camp. Even the young children were allowed to go over to watch the dancing for a while. Their parents would carry them back to their tents when they fell asleep.
Eb didn’t mind watching the other folks’ stuff while they played. He and Rob had a good company this time, and only a few troubles had beset them—small ones at that. A broken wheel, a child who burned his hand, a few cattle that wandered off but were soon recovered. But no one had complained about the rules, and all the heads of household cooperated with taking their turns in the lineup and participating in chores that benefited the entire outfit. He hoped the rest of the trip went as well.
Several times in his rounds, he crossed paths with Abe Leonard and Thomas Costigan, the other two guards. He wasn’t sure Thomas was the best pick for the job, but he seemed alert each time Eb saw him. If he sneaked off and shirked his duty, Eb would make a note of it.
Two hours had passed when Rob entered the circle between two wagons and strolled toward Eb.
“They’re winding down the party. You want to go have a dance or two?”
“Nah,” Eb said.
“Aw, why not? I’ll bet the ladies are disappointed.” Rob laughed. “I had a turn earlier with Miss Finster, but I couldn’t get near Miss Stone. The boys are lined up six deep every time the music changes.”
“That right?”
“Yes. They all think she’s unapproachable by daylight, but the moon and music give them courage.”
“Hmm.” Eb rested his rifle on his shoulder as Rob fell into pace with him.
“Whyn’t you go over for a while?” Rob said.
Eb thought about it as they ambled past four more wagons. The moon was just past full, and it shed plenty of light on the enclosure. A rangy mule stood in their path, cropping what was left of the buffalo grass. Eb slapped it on the rump to make it get out of their way.
“Howdy,” Abe called from up ahead.
“All quiet?” Eb asked.
Abe waved in assent. “How’s the dancing going?”
“Fine and dandy,” Rob said. “You want to go over? I’m trying to convince Eb, but he won’t go.”
“Oh, you ought to,” Abe said. “A young feller like you should be dancing.”
Eb laughed. True, Abe was ten years or so older, but Eb didn’t consider himself a “young feller.”
“Go on,” Rob said. “Give me your gun and go kick up your heels.”
Reluctantly, Eb surrendered the rifle. There was no reconsidering after that, but he felt exposed.
Rob scowled at him. “Git going!”
Eb slipped under the rope barrier between two wagons. In the dark expanse between the bonfire and the wagons, he walked alone. The warm breeze caressed his face. He’d kept shaving for three solid months on the trail. Didn’t know why exactly. Maybe he’d skip it tomorrow. It would save time, and there wasn’t any reason to keep on shaving.
The closer he got to the bonfire, the more alien he felt. The fiddle and the accordion blasted out a polka, and he hung back. He certainly wasn’t going to make a fool of himself to that music. He stood in the shadows and looked over the twenty couples whirling about in the firelight. Miss Stone was dancing with Will Strother, a lad of about sixteen. They looked as though they were having fun. The Harkness sisters, Lavinia and Abigail, were out there with a couple of the Foster boys.
It took only half a minute to realize the one person he was looking for wasn’t dancing. Eb looked about the edges of the circle. There she was, talking to Rebecca Harkness and “Ma” Foster. He edged toward them, staying behind the circle of watchers so he wouldn’t catch their attention and have to stop and chat.
The riotous music ended, and the dancers caught their breath and swapped partners for another round. The musicians launched into “Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair,” and some of the older men moved into the circle with their wives.
Now or never, Eb thought. His legs felt like sticks of firewood as he propelled himself toward her. Orrin Harkness had claimed his wife’s hand, but Mrs. Foster still stood with Miss Finster, and Mrs. Libby had joined them. Eb took another step so that he was beside them and cleared his throat.
All three women looked over at him.
“Evening,” Eb said. The music swelled.
“Well, hello, Mr. Bentley. “Miss Finster sounded charmed to see him, which made his heart thrum annoyingly fast.
“Howdy, Eb,” said Mrs. Foster.
Mrs. Libby just nodded, her eyebrows raised in apparent shock at seeing him.
“I wondered…well…uh…Miss Finster, you know I’m not much of a dancer, but…uh…well, if you’d care to…”
“Why, thank you. I’d be pleased.” She put her hand in his.
Eb was surprised to find she wore gloves. Not knitted, keep-me-warm-in-January gloves, but soft, white cotton, I’m-a-lady gloves. He held her hand tenderly and placed his other hand tentatively on her waist. She smiled up at him and laid her left hand on his shoulder. Moonlight softened her features, and he could have believed she was in her twenties at that moment. Why didn’t the men swarm her the way they did Miss Stone? They were crazy not to. Eb swallowed hard and made himself step in time to the music.
As they moved away from the older women, he was sure he heard Mrs. Libby say, “Well, did you ever?”
To which Mrs. Foster replied, “No, I never.”
Elise knew her face was red, but she hoped no one could see that in the darkness. Of course, that almost-full cheese of a moon didn’t aid her cause. It cast shadows almost as sharp as daytime ones.
Since her dance with Eb Bentley turned out to be the last of the evening, he’d been on hand to walk her back to the wagons. On her other side, Anne strolled along with Wilbur Harkness, who had vied with several other young men for the privilege. Anne kept up a bright chatter with Wilbur, which seemed to please him to no end. She described their panic as they tried to harness the mule team their first morning on the trail, making a comical anecdote out of it. Wilbur laughed so hard, Elise knew his heart was long gone.
She looked up at Eb’s face. He was watching her, and his lips twitched when their gazes met.
“Nice evening,” Eb said.
“Yes, I think everyone enjoyed it immensely.”
He nodded slowly.
“You ought to be the hero of that story Anne’s telling,” Elise said.
“Oh, she just hasn’t gotten to that part yet.”
Elise smiled. Should she tuck her hand in his elbow? He hadn’t offered his arm. She walked beside him, careful not to brush against his sleeve. Perhaps Eb was only seeing her “home” because he perceived it as his duty.
The white mounds of the wagon tops rested like puffs of cotton ar
ound the field. The little tent she shared with Anne stood pale against the grass. They’d left a path of about six feet between it and the wagon and built their fire to one side. The two couples stopped in the space between the prairie schooner and the tent, suspended between the bustle of the encampment and the vast quiet of the prairie. Eb seemed to feel it, too. Was he wishing for the ranch he owned? Rob had said this was Eb’s last trip east. He wanted to stay on his land and not make another long trek. She could understand that. A cozy home waiting at the end of the trail. If only she and Anne could look forward to that.
“I guess you’re glad we’re halfway,” she said.
Eb nodded. “I am. We’ve made good time and had few troubles. Though I can picture what you ladies are facing—staying in Oregon a short time and heading on back next spring.”
Next spring. Elise hadn’t allowed herself to contemplate it, but he was right—they’d have to spend the winter in Oregon. Maybe by spring they’d be ready to explore the option of sailing home. Wasn’t a railroad being built across Panama? If they didn’t have to sail around Cape Horn, the ocean journey might not be too arduous. She refused to even think about Anne’s seasickness.
“Yes,” she managed. “As soon as we locate Mr. Stone, I’m sure we’ll be ready to turn homeward.”
“Unless you fall in love with Oregon.”
Her heart thudded. “Is it really as beautiful as they say?”
“You can’t imagine, ma’am. You might not think much of it this winter—it rains a lot, at least where my ranch is. But come spring…well, it’s about the prettiest place you’ll ever see. It sets on the river, and there’s mountains in the distance. Got some woods on my spread, but mostly it’s open, and I’m going to run cattle on it.”
“It sounds lovely.” In a corner of her mind, she pictured a little cottage in a valley full of flowers—a place she and Anne could stay together comfortably, away from the constraints of England’s society. She’d think about that. When they reached Oregon, if Anne seemed taken by the place, perhaps she’d suggest it—though at this point she was sure Anne had no plans beyond finding her uncle and returning with him to England. But if they couldn’t find David…
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 18
