“Sure enough, I know!” Rob slapped Dan on the back. “You might as well come to the wedding, Dan.”
“Wedding?”
“That’s right. Eb and Miss Elise. We’re about to walk over to the church. Come along.”
On the way, Rob told Dan the details. Anne walked with Dulcie, chattering away about their upcoming trip, and Elise found herself behind them, with Eb at her side.
“Didn’t get a chance to say hello, Miss Finster.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Miss Finster, is it?”
“I won’t get to call you that much longer.”
She smiled and slipped her hand through his arm. “Hello, yourself.”
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you looking quite this beautiful before.”
Elise felt she might explode into a million glittering shards. “Not even in St. Louis, before the wind and the mules and the campfire took their toll?”
He gazed down at her as they walked and squinted up the corners of his eyes. “Not even then. And you were a sight then.”
They reached the church, and Dulcie waited for her at the door. “Here, dear Miss Elise. I nearly forgot to give you these.” She folded back the muslin cover over a bundle she’d carried. In the crook of her arm lay a plump bouquet of hawkweed and black-eyed susans. “I don’t have many tame flowers yet.”
“These are lovely,” Elise said.
Inside the church, the minister met them with his Bible in his hand.
“Morning, folks.” He shook Eb’s hand and Rob’s.
Rob said, “You know Dulcie. This is the bride, Miss Elise Finster. And this is her friend, Miss Anne Stone, and a friend of us all, Daniel Adams.”
The minister greeted each one. “Are you ready to begin?”
Eb nodded.
“Reckon we should,” Rob said. “We’ve got a trip ahead of us.”
“Then come this way.”
They followed the minister to the front of the little church. Eb and Elise stood before him, with Anne next to Elise and the others close in a half circle.
This is it, Elise thought. I’m an American now. I shall never go back to England. I shall never see Stoneford again or wait on Lady Anne.
She looked up at Eb. He must have seen some flicker in her expression. He took her hand and tucked it through his arm then stood facing the minister but caressing her hand.
She passed the wildflowers to Anne. The minister pronounced the vows, and she and Eb repeated them. When he asked for a ring, Rob surprised her by producing one from his pocket. She looked up at Eb, and he smiled at her. So he’d bought a ring yesterday, too. What else had he done while she basked in blissful ignorance with Anne last evening?
Whatever it was, she knew it was for her peace and comfort.
“I pronounce you man and wife,” said the minister.
Eb bent to kiss her, and Elise clung to him for a moment.
Her girlhood dreams couldn’t have conjured up this moment if she’d tried. Elise Finster, well-trained lady’s maid, marrying a roughhewn rancher in the Oregon Territory.
Eb pulled away slightly and whispered, “Hello, Mrs. Bentley.”
Elise smiled. God had reached across two continents to bring her and Eb together. She had never been so happy.
LADY ANNE’S
QUEST
CHAPTER 1
October 1855
Halfway across the stream, the front wheel plummeted, and the wagon’s whole front end jolted downward. Anne grabbed the edge of her seat and clung to it while trying to brace her feet against the footboard.
“I knew we should have gone to the ferry,” her companion, Dulcie Whistler, cried.
Dulcie’s husband, Rob, urged his saddle horse alongside them. “You all right?”
“Yes, but we seem to be stuck in a mud hole.” Dulcie slapped the reins against the flanks of her team. The two mules leaned into their collars and strained to pull the farm wagon free of the muddy river bottom, to no avail.
“Miss Anne, you going to be all right?” Rob asked.
Anne gritted her teeth and nodded. “I can hold on for a while.”
“Good, because the problem seems to be on that side, and I don’t think I’d best go around there.”
His chestnut horse, Bailey, splashed through the water to the head of Dulcie’s off mule. Rob bent over and grabbed the cheek strap on the mule’s bridle.
“Come on, Rufus! Pull!”
His urging wasn’t enough. The two mules continued to struggle until Anne was afraid they would exhaust themselves.
“Hey, Dan!” Rob waved to the young man who had accompanied them on this journey. “Tell the others to wait. Unhitch Smith’s team and bring them up here, but keep to the upstream side.” He rode back closer to Dulcie. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll double-team you out of there. Triple team, if need be.”
Dulcie shook her head. “At least it’s so shallow we won’t drown if we fall in. I told you we shouldn’t have tried to ford here.”
“I know, but Mr. Perkins insisted. I don’t think he’s got much money, and the ferry costs a dollar. This time of year, you can usually get across here with no trouble.” Rob looked toward the shore behind them. “Dan’s getting the other team ready. You holding on, Miss Anne, or do you want to climb off?”
Anne unclenched her teeth. “I’m not sure how long I can hang on.” The wagon’s corner sagged so steeply beneath her that her arm and leg muscles were already exhausted from clinging to the seat. And she’d thought her days of rough living on a wagon train had ended a week ago, when she’d rolled into Oregon City.
“Here comes Dan with the other team.” Rob turned Bailey and splashed away from them, seeming to forget Anne’s predicament.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Dulcie said. “Can you hold on to me and pull yourself up higher on the seat?”
Anne grasped the offered arm and levered herself closer to Dulcie. Rob and his horse came even with them again.
“Dan’s going to take you off,” he told Anne. He went on with Mr. Smith following him and leading the second team of mules.
Dan brought his mount close to the wagon on Dulcie’s side. “Can you climb into the wagon bed and get back here? If you get on behind my saddle, Star can carry us both.”
Several thoughts flashed through Anne’s mind, none of which could be expressed in a genteel manner. Dan thought like a farmer, with no concern for her feminine sensibilities. His very practicality irked her. That and the fact that the young man whose suit she’d rejected a couple of months ago had once more inserted himself into her life without cause.
Dan had invited himself on this trip of about fifty miles, and she knew it was only so he could be near her, a circumstance she’d as soon do without. She wouldn’t even spare a thought for the unimaginative name he’d given his horse. The placid gelding had a splotch on his forehead that horsemen referred to as a star, though in shape it was more of a blob. Now if he’d consulted Anne, she could have helped him think of a name with much more flair. Of course, flair would be wasted on a farmer.
Using all her remaining strength, she hauled herself up and over the back of the wagon seat, with a discreet push from Dulcie. All of her trunks had slid to the front of the tilted wagon box. She clambered over them, trying as best she could to keep her ankles hidden beneath the flounce of her skirt and to avoid Dulcie and Rob’s one satchel, all of their bedrolls, a bundle of firewood, and the boxes of foodstuffs and cooking utensils. Once past the major obstacles, she clutched the side of the wagon and pulled herself precariously erect. Dan moved Star forward a step and reached for her. The wagon gave a sudden lurch, and Anne stumbled.
Dan caught her arm and steadied her. He looked forward and shouted, “Hold on, Rob! I’m taking Miss Stone off the wagon.”
Too late. The combined teams of mules had thrown their weight into dragging the wagon free. Though Dan lunged to slide an arm around her waist and Anne leaped toward him, she tumbled into the foot-deep river.
She sat for a moment with the water swirling around her. Air ballooned her full calico skirt. It absorbed water and gradually sank to the surface, where the current tugged at it. Anne hastily clapped the sodden fabric against her legs and stared miserably up at Dan.
“Are you all right?” he asked with a grimace.
“I haven’t broken anything, if that’s what you mean.” Anne regretted her curtness. Dan was a kindhearted soul, and her predicament wasn’t his fault.
He started to swing his right leg over the saddle, but she shrieked, “Don’t get down!”
“Why not?”
“The water will be over your boots. I’m all right.” She scrambled to her feet to prove it and stumbled on the uneven river bottom. She was able to catch her balance, but her soaked dress clung to her in a mortifying manner, and the current continued to tug at her legs, skirt, and petticoats. Walking to shore would challenge her.
Dan settled back into the saddle and kicked off his left stirrup. “Well, at least let me pull you up and carry you to shore.”
“No.”
He frowned down at her. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Anne could think of nothing that would induce her to give in. The thought of clawing up onto Star’s back in her dripping costume made her shudder. The horse would hate having a wet bulk added to his load—and her drenched layers of clothing must weigh a great deal. Beyond that, the picture of herself holding on to Dan while the poor horse picked his way across the Long Tom only confirmed her instincts. With her eye, she measured the distance to the bank they’d left and then to the one ahead of them and set out for the far bank. Dulcie’s wagon had nearly reached it, thanks to the extra team of mules.
Anne kept a little upstream, out of the mud the mules had churned up. The water deepened to mid-thigh, but the current wasn’t too strong, and she waded against it, finally reaching shore.
“Sorry you took a dunking, Miss Anne,” Rob shouted as she stumbled up the low incline.
Dan’s horse lunged up the bank, and he dismounted and came to her side.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll get a fire going straightaway.”
Anne looked toward the wagon. “I need dry clothes.”
“Of course.” Dan’s face flushed. “Mrs. Whistler will help you, I’m sure. We can hang a blanket….”
They both fell silent and watched Dulcie drive the wagon up the slope. When it reached level ground, she called, “Whoa!” and the mules stopped, snorting and shivering.
“Good job,” Rob told his wife. He turned his horse and trotted over to Anne and Daniel. “We may as well camp here. It will take several hours for the other five wagons get across on the ferry. Miss Anne, we’ll get you dried out in no time.”
Anne nodded. Her teeth had begun to chatter. Though the October afternoon wasn’t too cold, the breeze cut through her drenched clothing.
Dulcie hopped down from the wagon, hiked up her skirt, and ran toward her. “Anne, you poor thing! Tell me what to get for you. Mr. Adams, get a move on. Start a fire over there, if you please.” She pointed to a grassy clearing where others had camped recently.
“Yes, ma’am.” Dan’s chin sank nearly to his chest as he shuffled away, the picture of contrition.
Dulcie smiled at Anne. “Well, if he hopes to persuade you to marry him on this outing, he’s not off to a very good start, is he?”
Anne grimaced. “He’s a very nice man. I just—”
Dulcie patted her arm. “Don’t fret about it, dear. He came at his own urging. Now, come over to the wagon, and I’ll give you a blanket to put around you while I get your dry clothes out. Come. You’re shaking.”
Anne let Dulcie lead her to the side of the wagon. She’d traveled across the plains during the past six months on Rob Whistler’s wagon train, but she’d only met Dulcie yesterday.
Yesterday—the turning point in Anne’s life. She’d watched her best friend, Elise Finster, marry the wagon train’s scout. Elise had been with her all of Anne’s life. She’d helped care for her since birth, on Anne’s father’s estate in England. She’d even agreed to accompany her young mistress to America after Anne’s father died.
Though she was glad Elise had found love on the journey, Anne now felt abandoned. Logic told her that was silly. After all, she had insisted Elise marry Eb Bentley without further delay—in fact, had practically bullied her into it. She hadn’t anticipated the emptiness that would descend on her as she journeyed away from her closest friend and confidante.
“Here you go.” Dulcie pulled a dry petticoat and stockings from Anne’s leather satchel. “Now, for a dry dress. Should I open one of your trunks?”
By the time they’d found a suitable traveling dress and all the accessories Anne needed, Dan had a cheerful fire blazing. To her relief, he crossed the stream again and rode off with the other families to help them ferry their wagons across upstream. She suspected his embarrassment had sent him on the errand. Dulcie and Rob set up camp while Anne changed behind her makeshift screen and dried her hair near the campfire.
“I’m going to make lots of coffee and a big pot of stew,” Dulcie said. “If anyone else gets wet, or if any of the other women are too tired to cook, I’ll have something to share with them.”
“That’s kind of you,” Anne said.
Dulcie shrugged. “Folks have it hard on the trail, but you know that. I’m sorry we changed your plans for you. You weren’t banking on making this trip with five other families—and Dan.”
“It’s all right.”
Anne was mildly surprised to find that she meant it. Mr. Smith had approached Rob in Corvallis. He’d heard the wagon master was going south to Eugene, and he led a small group of families who’d arrived on a wagon train just days after Whistler’s had come in. These five families wanted to go to the Eugene area, and they hoped Mr. Whistler would grant them his protection and the benefit of his knowledge of the area by letting them join his party.
“Some of those folks need all the help they can get,” Dulcie said.
Anne laughed. “I’m afraid that’s true. They’re blessed to have Rob leading them, even though they don’t have any more big mountains or hostile Indians to face.” Although the short trip to Eugene had been planned to help her, she couldn’t begrudge the Whistlers’ kindness to a few strangers. She pulled her hair back and tied it with a ribbon. “How can I help you?”
Dulcie smiled at her across the fire pit. “You could get out the coffeepot and coffee. Rob brought a couple of buckets of water while you were dressing. Can you make coffee?”
“It’s one of the skills I acquired this summer.” Anne laughed. “It took awhile to master. In fact, Dan Adams and your husband were the victims of a few of my less successful attempts.”
“I just love the way you talk.” Dulcie’s eyes went all dreamy. “Hard to think I’m out here camping with a fine English lady.”
“Oh, you mustn’t say that!” Anne glanced about, but no one else was near. “Dan doesn’t know about my father’s title, and I’d just as soon he didn’t.”
“I suppose it would discourage him if he found out.”
“It’s not that I’m worried about.” Anne realized her words must sound a bit crass. After all, she didn’t want to hurt Dan. “It’s just that people treat me differently if they know.”
Dulcie nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll try not to, Miss Anne.”
“Just Anne is fine. And thank you. I like the way you and Rob treat me. Let’s not allow words to make a difference.” She went to the wagon and pulled the coffeepot from the box of pans and kettles. Dulcie’s small sack of coffee was stashed inside a biscuit tin as a precaution against dampness, and she took the tin with her to the fireside. She measured the coffee carefully. Even though she would only be with these people another day or two, she did not want to bear their disdain for being a helpless lady who didn’t know how to do anything useful. She’d had enough of that.
Dan stayed with the Perkins family as they waited for th
e ferry to return. Their wagon would be the last to cross the Long Tom River. After watching Dulcie’s struggle, none of the others were willing to risk the ford. Loading each of the five wagons separately and waiting while they were deposited on the far bank took almost three hours. Dan regretted missing that time with Anne—yet he was glad to be out of her sight for a while.
He still couldn’t believe he’d let her fall into the river. It wasn’t truly his fault, but he still felt responsible. He should have told Rob he was about to transfer Anne to his horse. Before the incident, he’d already been low in her esteem. Now he’d sunk to the depths of a well, and the bottom felt mucky.
He should have stayed away.
He and his brother, Hector, had left the wagon train at Oregon City after claiming their land. They’d gone on to Champoeg and found their acreage. It was beautiful—just what they’d hoped for. Hector had plunged into making the open land into a farm. Dan worked beside him, but his heart had flown elsewhere.
After a week, Hector had told him as they nailed down shingles on the cabin’s roof, “Daniel, you need to forget that woman.”
His harsh tone hurt. “That woman” was Anne, the most beautiful, graceful creature on earth. Dan had lost his heart before they’d even left Independence. Anne seemed to like him. After months on the trail and making himself as agreeable as possible to her and her companion, Miss Finster, he’d put his future in Anne’s hands.
Proposing to her scared him to death. He’d blurted it out while they were dancing one night by the flickering light of a bonfire. The stunned look on her face had told him what her answer would be before she uttered a word.
He’d known he wasn’t good enough for her. She might as well have said that, but she was too polite. Her excuse was her uncle. Anne had made the journey to find him, not to settle in Oregon. Certainly not to marry a man who planned to farm in Oregon. Her goal was to locate her missing uncle and accompany him back to England, the land of her birth. Apparently Anne’s father had died, and this elusive uncle was needed to head up the remaining family. Letters hadn’t reached him, and Anne had undertaken the trip with a friend—an older woman who was also charming and ladylike—on a quest to find him. Without trying, Anne had captured and broken Dan’s heart.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 33
