THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy

by Susan Page Davis

  He rode up close and doffed his hat. “Long nooning today. We’ll set out again when the sun’s past its hottest.”

  “That sounds good, Mr. Bentley,” Miss Stone called with a smile.

  Miss Finster nodded. “Please God there’ll be some shade where we stop.”

  “There’s a few willows near the river, ma’am.”

  “Good. Will you and Mr. Whistler eat with us? If we’re having a long rest stop, we’ll prepare our big meal then, instead of in the evening.”

  Eb turned Pink around, so the horse moved along beside the wagon at the mules’ pace. “That would be a pleasure, ma’am.”

  “We’ll be pleased, Mr. Bentley,” Miss Stone called over the clopping of hooves and the creaking of harness. She smiled so large Eb wondered if he’d made a mistake in accepting the invitation. Between Rob and Miss Stone, he felt like a rabbit with its neck in a snare.

  Later, when they sat in the meager shade, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The ladies served their plain dinner graciously, and Eb couldn’t think of any other wagonside he’d rather eat at. The wagons were loosely circled, with the livestock in the middle as usual, but they constantly tried to stray out through the gaps. The ten men on guard spent as much energy keeping the livestock in as they did watching for intruders. Miss Finster had tied her clothesline in two passes at knee and waist height between her wagon and Abe Leonard’s, and Dan Adams had rigged a similar arrangement with his wagon, behind the ladies’, so while they ate their dinner no oxen nosed out into their eating area.

  Both ladies wore dresses that looked fine enough for a fancy funeral. They hadn’t ever given in to the droopy bonnets most of the women wore out here, even when the wind blew strong across the prairie. That suited Eb just fine—he liked the way Miss Finster’s elegant hats framed her face. And Miss Stone would look good in anything, with her youth and beauty. She looked healthy now, much healthier than she had in St. Louis. He was glad she was smiling again. Seeing her weep yesterday when she stood at the grave was hard—but her spirits seemed to have lifted.

  The biscuits were a little tough, but Miss Finster had cooked the bacon to perfection, and Miss Stone had baked a cake of sorts. It was doughy and sweet, and chunks of tinned peaches hid in its depths.

  “Miss Anne, I don’t know if I’ve ever had anything that hit the spot like this,” Rob said. He sat on the ground with his long legs stretched out before him and his back to their rear wagon wheel.

  “It’s tasty, all right,” Eb said.

  “Why, thank you, gentlemen,” Miss Stone said. “I modified Mrs. Harkness’s cobbler recipe. Elise thought we’d best use up most of our canned goods before we go much farther.”

  “They’re heavy,” Miss Finster said, and the two men nodded.

  “Now’s the time to use up anything you won’t need later on,” Rob said.

  “Has Orrin thrown out that big cupboard yet?” Eb asked.

  “Nope. Rebecca says she won’t go to Oregon without it. I reckon she’ll toss the schoolbooks first.”

  Miss Finster rose and took the coffeepot off the fire grate. “Gentlemen?”

  “Thank you.” Rob held out his cup. The ladies had four china cups with saucers, unlike the tin cups most of the people carried. They didn’t seem to mind having cups that were a little heavier and a little more fragile.

  She filled Rob’s cup and came over to Eb. He held his out for her. Nice, how the handle didn’t get hot when she poured the steaming brew into it.

  He took a cautious sip. It was hot all right, but he also knew by now that Miss Finster’s coffee was a bit hit-or-miss.

  She looked anxiously from him to Rob. “Well? Have I poisoned you?”

  “Mighty good,” Rob said.

  Eb had to agree. She’d hit it right. Either she was getting better at cooking on the trail or today was an exceptionally good random draw. He nodded at her.

  “Well, good.” She took the pot back to the fire and lifted a small, steaming kettle. “The tea water is hot, Anne.”

  Miss Stone got up and fussed around for a minute or two, measuring tea leaves into a round, pierced tea ball. The ladies carried a teapot. The first time Eb had seen it, he’d laughed aloud. Now he thought it was nice. They’d come a thousand miles and hadn’t busted it. He guessed they’d proven their right to make tea the way they wanted it.

  Miss Finster poured the pot of hot water into the teapot. “Too bad we haven’t any milk.” She glanced toward the wagon. “I guess I’d better fetch another bucket of water, or we won’t be washing dishes.”

  “Let me get it for you.” Eb set his cup and saucer on the ground and pushed himself to his feet.

  “No need,” Miss Finster said. “I wasn’t hinting.”

  Still trying to prove her competence.

  “I know.” He looked her straight in the jay-blue eyes, something he’d avoided doing too often. “I’d like to get it for you.”

  She hesitated then handed over the wooden bucket. “If you’ve no objection, I’ll bring the small pail and fill it, too.”

  Eb could have carried them both without breaking a sweat, but something kept him from protesting. He just nodded. His face felt like it was on fire.

  “We shan’t be five minutes, Anne,” Miss Finster said.

  “Take your time.” Miss Stone poured a little of the tea from the teapot into her cup and eyed it critically then set the pot down. “You’ll keep a close eye on her, won’t you, Mr. Bentley?”

  “Aw, call me Eb. And yes, of course I will.” It came out a bit gruffly, but Miss Stone’s smile told him she forgave any shortness on his behalf. Rob just leaned back against the wagon wheel and sipped his coffee, not looking at him, but Eb suspected he was smirking behind that cup.

  Next thing Eb knew, they were walking away from the wagon circle, toward the river. The cattle had stirred up the already muddy river at the most accessible place, but there was a path a little way upstream, and Eb led her there. Miss Finster peered up at him from under that outlandish hat. How did she keep it from crushing in the wagon, anyway?

  “I thought Miss Anne looked happier today,” he said.

  “Yes. We talked this morning. She wants to go on. She and I both trust your instincts—yours and Mr. Whistler’s.”

  “About Schwartz, you mean?”

  “Yes. I’ve no doubt he lied to us. It was hard for Anne to leave, wondering if her uncle was really buried there, but she’s decided to believe he’s not and to trust God to see us through to the end of our journey.”

  “That’s the right way to think.”

  “I believe Anne has handled this entire thing well.” She smiled, and he thought again what a picture she made—a refined lady out here in the wilderness, keeping her dignity and her daintiness, but not afraid to pitch in and do the heavy work herself.

  Eb paused where the path led down the riverbank. “I think you’re a lot like Miss Anne yourself. And I daresay you’ve helped her along on her journey.”

  She gazed up into his eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Bentley.”

  Should he offer his hand to assist her down the few steep steps? “I don’t suppose you could call me Eb?”

  She glanced away, down at her bucket first and then toward the river. “Habits are difficult to break, but I shall try. My given name is Elise.”

  He shifted his bucket to the other hand and reached out to her. “May I help you down this spot in the path, Miss Elise?”

  Her dainty fingers grasped his rough hand with a surprisingly strong grip.

  On the way back to the campsite, Elise wondered how she’d gotten herself into this situation. She’d willingly agreed—no, if the truth be told, she had initiated—going on this walk to the river along a secluded path with a man she knew only superficially.

  Even as she thought how improperly she was behaving, she knew that was silly. Rules from British high society did not apply here.

  The quiet scout walking beside her carried both pails of water. He wouldn’t
give up the smaller one, though she’d protested. There came a point where she could see that his pride would be hurt if she persisted, and so she gave up.

  Edwin Bentley—Eb—had become a bigger distraction than the snowcapped mountains looming before them or the vague fear that a band of wild Indians would suddenly appear over a ridge. She couldn’t hold one rational thought in her head with him walking beside her.

  “I expect we should let the livestock loose to graze,” he said. “There’s not enough grass in the wagon circle to last them long.”

  “We don’t want to take any chances this close to Schwartzburg.”

  He nodded. “Probably I’m overly suspicious. I just can’t help thinking Schwartz was up to something. And what you heard about them blaming the Indians…well, that can’t be good.”

  “I didn’t see many Indians around his place.”

  “There were a few in the trading post when I went in yesterday morning. Not many. They’re mostly out hunting buffalo now, I reckon.”

  As Elise looked up at his resolute profile, she knew he would give his life to protect the people in the wagon train. Eb Bentley was a man she could trust, and one she could admire without regret.

  “Anne asked me today if we were right to go on,” she said.

  Eb paused on the path and looked down at her. “What do you think?”

  “I should hate to wait at Schwartzburg for a company heading east. But beyond that, yes. I think we should continue our search.”

  “So do I.”

  Her heart swelled. “Thank you. It helps to have a rational man support our decision. I admit I had second thoughts.”

  Eb studied her for a moment. “What will you do if you get to Oregon and don’t find him?”

  “I suppose we’ll go home. Though Anne will be crushed.”

  “I suppose her family wants her back. They must be worried about the two of you.”

  Elise gave him a wry smile. “Her family is small—smaller than it used to be. Those remaining are not so doting as you might suppose.”

  “Her friends…?”

  “Yes. Well, you see, friends aren’t always faithful. Anne has had a comedown in position since her father died. Her loss of fortune…I’m sure some of her friends truly care about her, but right now she is depending very much upon finding her uncle so that he can set things to rights for her. If that doesn’t happen…”

  “Does she have a plan?”

  “Oh yes.” Elise looked away from his direct stare. “The two of us will probably settle in a quiet corner of England and live out our lives together. I will gladly serve her, though she treats me more as a friend than a servant.”

  “I haven’t seen any hoity-toity ways from her since I’ve known her.”

  “No. She isn’t like that. We decided to act as friends on this trip, and it has become true. She is my dearest friend now. If God wills us to live humbly together as spinsters for the rest of our lives, I shall not be discontent. Though I can’t imagine that for Anne. With her beauty and her gentle spirit, even though she’ll have only a meager allowance, I would think some fair-minded man would fall in love with her.”

  “Yes, one would think so. In fact, I’d say several have.”

  Elise smiled. “Yes, the young men in our company adore her. Several are head over heels, but she tells me she hasn’t found one she can love with all her heart, and so she keeps them at arm’s length. She tries to treat them all equally, and I think she’s done a good job.”

  Eb cleared his throat. “And yourself? You wouldn’t consider marrying unless she was settled?”

  Elise glanced at him sharply. His open expression brought a flush to her cheeks. “I must think of her first. It is my duty to her and to her parents. But if she should find the protection of a good man she can love, I suppose anything is possible. With God, I mean…”

  “Oh yes,” Eb said. “Anything at all.”

  “Even at my age.”

  He chuckled, and she realized she’d said the words aloud. Her already warm cheeks flamed.

  “Forgive me, Mr. Bentley—Eb. That was a private thought gone renegade.”

  He looked as though he would speak, but footsteps approaching from the encampment stopped him. They both looked up the path. Mrs. Legity and her son-in-law, Josiah Redman, approached carrying water pails.

  Eb gestured for her to precede him, and Elise resumed walking.

  Mrs. Legity came even with them, and Elise stepped out of the path for her.

  “Miss Finster,” Mrs. Legity said in a high-pitched tone that bespoke rampant speculation.

  “Hello,” Elise said as cheerfully as possible. She smiled at Josiah, who nodded.

  “Mr. Bentley.” Mrs. Legity drew out his name.

  “Ma’am.”

  After the two had passed, Elise looked over her shoulder at Eb. He winked at her. Elise whirled toward camp in confusion, certain that her beet-red face would confirm any rumors Mrs. Legity fancied to start.

  They set out as the sun threw its last rays from behind the mountains onto the wisps of cloud above. The array of color filled Elise’s heart with a yearning she didn’t understand.

  “We need to hurry,” Anne called over Bumper’s withers. “We’re leading tonight.”

  Holding first place in the line of wagons was an honor not to be taken lightly. They’d only had the privilege twice so far, and Elise was determined to be ready when the moment came to form up. For once she wouldn’t be staring over the mules’ ears at the back of Abe Leonard’s wagon. Instead she’d see the vast openness before them, and perhaps Rob’s back, or even Eb’s if he didn’t ride off miles ahead to scout. That prospect spurred her on as she tugged at the harness straps.

  A moment later Anne again called her to earth with a low cry of distress.

  “What’s the matter?” Elise asked.

  “There’s a buckle missing from Bumper’s breeching.”

  “Is the strap broken?”

  “No, I don’t think so. How could this have happened?”

  “All too easily, I’m afraid. I’ll look around in the wagon.”

  “I’ll check here in the grass. Perhaps we dropped it when we unhitched.” Anne knelt and began to pat the trampled stalks near the mules’ feet.

  Elise fumbled about in the empty crate where they kept the harness during their stops. It was empty. For the first time, they were hitching all six mules to the wagon. Hector Adams had come while they were packing up and told them Rob said they would have a harder pull than they’d yet experienced, and to put their full teams in the lineup.

  Anne came to the back of the wagon. “Find anything?”

  “No. I may need to light the lantern.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Do we have any extra buckles?” Elise stuck her hand into a crack between the crate and the dish box and willed her fingers to find the missing item.

  “Shoe buckles,” Anne said with a laugh.

  Elise frowned. “Get ready to drive, and make sure we haven’t left anything out that should be packed. I’ll see what I can find.”

  Ten minutes later they took their place at the front of the line with Elise driving. “Go straight on,” Rob told her. “There’s not much of a moon, but there’s plenty of starlight tonight, and the road should be clear and obvious for the first hour or two.” She slapped the reins on Challenger’s and Blackie’s hindquarters. With Zee and Prince in the swing position, between the leaders and the wheelers, the elongated team seemed to stretch for miles before her in the eerie starshine.

  Anne sat beside her, gazing ahead as they rumbled into the foothills and left the river below them.

  “Too bad we have to waste this romantic moonlit ride.”

  Elise laughed. “It won’t be wasted if it brings us closer to South Pass.”

  They rode along peacefully, with Rob checking in on them every thirty minutes or so and reporting that all was calm in their wake. The temperature had cooled significantly, and with the ever
-present breeze, the evening made for comfortable traveling.

  Two hours into their trek, a lone horseman rode toward them out of the west. The mules were leaning into their collars and straining a bit as they climbed toward the pass.

  Anne nudged Elise with her elbow. “Here comes Eb. He’ll ride up and put a finger to his hat brim and say, ‘Ladies.’ ”

  Elise laughed. “Probably.”

  “Nice to have a dependable man around, isn’t it?”

  Before she could answer, Eb trotted up on Speck and touched his hat. “Ladies.”

  “Good evening, Eb,” Elise said, quite loudly in hopes of covering Anne’s unladylike giggle. “How does the road look ahead?”

  He swung Speck around and let him walk slowly beside the wagon. “Smooth as glass—uphill glass, that is. No trouble from behind, I take it.”

  “We’ve heard nothing untoward.”

  “Good. We’ll stop and rest in a little while. Then we’ll continue on for a ways. You’ll come eventually to a highland meadow that will make good grazing for the stock. It’s about three miles ahead. But I’ll see you again before then.” He nodded and wheeled the spotted horse away.

  “Three miles ahead,” Anne said. “So—another three or four hours at ox pace?”

  “Maybe more, with this incline.” Elise had barely spoken when they heard a shout behind them—not the usual shout of an ox driver to his team or a parent to a child. “What was that?”

  In the distance a series of loud bangs erupted, followed by more shouting. Anne grabbed Elise’s arm. “Gunfire. Should we stop? We can’t circle the wagons here on this uphill grade.”

  Elise’s stomach clenched. “Maybe that’s what they planned on. Waiting for us to get into an indefensible position.”

  “Keep going, then,” Anne said. “We should keep on unless Rob or Eb tells us otherwise.”