THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy

by Susan Page Davis

  Sam scrunched up his face and wagged his whole body from side to side. “I don’t see why you have to go on ahead.”

  “I told you. It’s better if I get ahead of them. I’ll see if I can get wind of David before they do. If I get to him first, I can soften him up and maybe find out what he’s really worth.”

  Sam shook his head. “That don’t make sense to me. Why can’t we stay together and just follow them to where he’s at?”

  Millie sighed in exasperation. “Because, you dunce, you’re going to slow them down, remember? So I can get a good head start on them. The longer I have to get friendly with ol’ Uncle David before Miss Anne shows up, the better.”

  “She’ll just tell him how we tried to trick her.”

  “Not if things go my way. Now, you do as I say. Slow them down, throw them off the trail—anything you can think of. Give me time to find David Stone and learn whether his mining property is valuable. It could end up being worth more than his inheritance from his brother.”

  “Well, yeah.” Sam’s brow puckered. “I heard they’re taking millions from the mines down Josephine way. I don’t know why he didn’t buy land down there.”

  “Because it’s all bought up, no doubt. Now folks are sniffing around up this way, and he wants to get in on it early. You told me Stone is a smart man, right?”

  “Oh, he’s powerful smart.”

  “So he wouldn’t get taken in by some swindler and buy worthless property. There’s bound to be a little gold on it.” Millie pushed the branches aside and walked back toward where they had tied the horses out of sight of the road.

  “I don’t see why he didn’t just stay here and run his farm.” Sam panted along behind her. “It’s a nice farm.”

  “Sure, Sam. It’s a wonderful farm.”

  Millie untied the mare’s reins and led her out toward the road. By the time she was settled in the saddle, Sam was just coming out of the woods, tugging the roan along behind him.

  “You’re supposed to wait and make sure they don’t come back,” she said.

  “Do I have to?”

  Millie sighed. Sam was like a kid in some ways. “At least keep an eye out for the neighbors. If anyone comes along and asks what you’re doing, tell them you came for your clothes.”

  “I got my clothes already.”

  “They don’t know that.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “And don’t steal anything big. You know—that they could see.”

  Sam looked at her blankly as though the thought would never have entered his mind without her help.

  “But get plenty of oats for Blue. Enough for several days.”

  “What about your horse?”

  “We’ll manage.”

  Millie turned the mare southward.

  “Wait,” Sam called. “How will I find you again?”

  “If you ever catch up to David Stone, trust me, I won’t be far away.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Cottage Grove was a pretty little town on the edge of the Willamette River’s Coast Fork. Anne imagined that every bedroom window had a lovely view of the mountains that folded in around it.

  They found the Randalls’ house without any trouble. The first man they asked pointed the way and declared, “You’ll get some good eating there.”

  The sun was still higher than the hills to the west. It was a pity they couldn’t keep riding for another hour or two. But they must bow to propriety on this journey if Anne hoped to face Elise and Dulcie again without shame.

  “You’ll have to bunk in with our boys tonight, Mr. Adams,” Mrs. Randall said ruefully as she led them through the kitchen toward the stairway. “We’ve already got folks in the one guest room.”

  “That’s fine,” Dan said, but Anne felt bad for putting him in that situation.

  “Miss Stone can take our daughter’s room,” Mrs. Randall added. “Mary Lou can sleep in with us tonight.”

  “We don’t want to inconvenience you,” Anne said.

  “Let’s not fuss about that,” the hostess replied cheerfully.

  Mr. Randall piped up from the corner by the stove, “If you was married, you could share the same accommodations, folks.”

  Dan went scarlet to his hairline.

  “There’s truth in that,” Mrs. Randall said with a chuckle.

  Her husband guffawed. “We got a preacher right down the street.”

  Dan looked helplessly at Anne. She decided the best thing to do was laugh with them.

  “How nice for you. Daniel and I have been friends most of a year now, but we’ve no matrimonial plans.”

  “That’s right,” Dan said. “This trip is purely out of necessity.”

  “Too bad,” said Mr. Randall. “Mighta made a nice honeymoon.”

  Millie had stayed well behind the pair until they took their horses off the trail to give them water. She hurried past, well out of sight, and then lit out for Cottage Grove. She made good time, galloping the mare most of the way. While the horse rested and grazed outside town, she went into the general store, bought a slice of cheese, and pocketed a pot of lip rouge and a tin of peaches.

  She didn’t let the horse rest long, wanting to be certain she’d cleared town well before Miss Stone and Adams showed up. Her next stop would be the little town of Anlauf, at a distance of about twelve miles. As she rode out of Cottage Grove, the road left the Coast Fork, skirted a pond, and followed Pass Creek, upstream and uphill, toward the divide. The road was passable for wagons, but still rugged, and she kept a steady, slow trot when possible. On the steeper grades, the mare walked.

  She passed a few cabins, but the farther she went, the more desolate the landscape became. Reports Sam had brought in about the Calapooya Indians flitted through her mind. Had they really taken to the warpath again? She scanned the forest on both sides of the trail. The tall firs towered above her. She could see between their trunks for a ways into the cool shadows. Were angry warriors lurking there?

  Something moved ahead of her, and the mare leaped to one side with a squeal. Millie’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She kept her hands low, with tension on the reins.

  Fifty yards ahead, two deer hopped across the road and disappeared into the trees.

  She patted the horse’s withers as the mare continued to prance and blow out air.

  “Take it easy, girl. It was only a couple of deer. Settle down.”

  The mare crow-hopped one more time and minced forward with tiny, precise steps. As Millie’s pulse slowed, she was able to breathe normally again, but she didn’t trust the horse with a loose rein for a good ten minutes. At last they settled into a road-eating trot. Millie thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t wound up in the dirt with a broken neck.

  She should have taken Old Blue, but Sam would have come after her. He claimed the horse was his since David Stone had left it for him to use. Millie was stuck with the thin nag she’d picked up in Champoeg without benefit of a bill of sale. Poorest horse she’d ever stolen.

  Anne came down to breakfast in the Randalls’ kitchen looking beautiful, as always. She wore her blue velvet habit and an adorable hat that looked as though it had come out of a shop window in New York. Dan supposed it was the only modest outfit she had for riding, but it seemed a bit overdone for the wilderness. She looked rested, and her eager smile when she met his gaze set his stomach fluttering. If only she weren’t so lovely, he could bear it better.

  “Good morning,” she sang out.

  “Sit you right down, Miss Stone,” Mrs. Randall said. She indicated a place at the table next to Dan, where she had set out white china plates with green ivy painted around the rims.

  Dan held Anne’s chair for her and resumed his seat.

  “How was your night?” Anne asked.

  He wished she hadn’t asked in the hostess’s presence. He glanced toward Mrs. Randall’s ample back and shot Anne a rueful smile. “Fine. Just fine.”

  Anne nodded in comprehension and shook out her napkin before spreadin
g it in her lap. There would be plenty of time later to tell her how the three boys had offered him their bunks, but Dan had insisted on rolling out his blankets on the floor. It had seemed the polite thing to do at the time. But he’d reckoned without the oak planks beneath him or Petey’s incessant snoring. Right now the prospect of eight hours or more in the saddle quelled all sense of adventure inspired in him by Anne’s quest.

  They finished their meal, and Dan rose to pay the hostess. Anne leaped up and followed him, opening her purse.

  “Let me take care of it,” Dan said softly.

  “Oh no, I couldn’t. In fact, I should be paying your way. This is my excursion, not yours, and you’ve given up much for my cause.”

  “Don’t even think it.” He smiled down at her. “It’s a delight for me to be of service, Anne. I’m just glad you’ve allowed me to come along.”

  Her cheeks went a becoming shade of pink. “Thank you, Daniel. But you mustn’t even think of paying my expenses. If you insist on paying your own way, at least let me keep my dignity and cover my own.”

  “Very well.”

  “My land, you folks are so polite it’s painful,” Mrs. Randall said.

  Anne’s flush deepened, and Dan regretted quibbling over money in front of the hostess.

  “You’ve been most kind.” Anne placed a few coins in the woman’s hand and turned to the door.

  Dan held out the money for his night’s lodging.

  “She’s a proud one, isn’t she?” Mrs. Randall asked, watching Anne step through the doorway.

  Dan pulled back in surprise. “Oh no, she’s nothing like that. She only wants to be clear that she’s independent.”

  “Oh, she’s a real lady, anyone can see that, and I don’t doubt she can stand on her own two feet. But she’s not averse to leading you about the territory, now is she?” Mrs. Randall chuckled. “How far are you folks traveling?”

  Caution counseled Dan, and he replied, “We’re heading over Scottsburg way.”

  “Ah. Getting the steamer there?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Miss Stone has business in that area.”

  Mrs. Randall nodded. “It’s not so bad to marry a woman who knows how to carry out her own business, you know.” Her smile indicated that she was just such a woman and Mr. Randall was a fortunate man indeed to have found her.

  Dan managed a smile. “I’m sure that’s true. Thank you.”

  The children came in from their chores and began to set up for their own breakfast as he left the house. He found Anne in the barn working diligently at a tangle of leather straps, with a determined set to her jaw. Her eyebrows were drawn into a lovely pucker.

  “What’s the trouble?” Dan asked.

  “Our bridles are all jumbled together, and these reins are tied in about a hundred knots.”

  “The boys must have done it when they came to do their barn chores this morning.” Dan bent over the mess and frowned. “I can’t believe their father would allow it, though, and it must have taken some time.”

  “It’s a fine way to treat their paying guests,” Anne said.

  She carried the bridles to the brighter light at the open barn door.

  “Would you like me to do it?” Dan asked.

  “No thanks, I’m getting it. Why don’t you go ahead and saddle up?”

  He left her working on the knots and walked to where she’d placed her sidesaddle the afternoon before, on a wooden rack attached to the wall. He pulled it down and frowned in dismay as the cinch strap, girth, and stirrup tumbled to the floor.

  “What on earth?” He sighed and stooped to retrieve the pieces.

  “What is it?” Anne called.

  “Seems the little urchins undid every buckle they could find and loosened the straps.” The trick would cost them a good half hour in getting started. Dan had a mind to go find Mr. Randall and complain. But that would take another ten minutes.

  He set the saddle back on the rack and began threading a leather strap through the slot at the top of the stirrup. No doubt entered his mind that his saddle was in a similar fix.

  At last they had everything put back the way it should be.

  “Ready to start,” he asked Anne, “or are you exhausted?”

  She chuckled. “I’m ready to get out of here—I’ll tell you that.”

  They led the horses into the barnyard. Mr. Randall came around the corner of his house and stopped short.

  “I thought you folks were gone already.”

  “We had a few things to take care of first,” Anne said with her usual pleasant smile. “We’re ready to start now, though.”

  “Well, have a good trip.” Mr. Randall lifted his hat and watched in puzzlement as they mounted and trotted out of his barnyard.

  “Do you think we’ll be able to make Elkton today?” Anne asked.

  “I hope so. We’ll have to see how things look when we get a bit farther along.” Dan had hoped they could make it to the next village in time for their midday meal and then press onward to Elkton. “I guess a lot depends on the terrain.”

  The information he’d gleaned in Eugene City told him that the distance from Cottage Grove to a small settlement at a river junction was about fifteen miles, and from there to Elkton, on the Umpqua River, was nearly as far again, but through less hospitable country. Several hamlets lay along the first portion of the journey, but beyond them they would see only a few cabins among the forested slopes. The road would take them over and between some rugged hills as they approached the Coast Range. Dan didn’t want to risk being caught out in the wilderness after dark.

  The trail swung westward as they left town, and they rode away from the river. The road bore deep wagon ruts in some places, and they let the horses pick their way between them, but for the most part the footing was easy.

  “We’ll follow Martin Creek for a while,” Dan said, “and then pick up Pass Creek. The road pretty much follows the rivers through the mountains.”

  “It’s a lovely day for riding,” Anne said.

  Dan had to agree. He settled back in the saddle and decided to forget about the mischievous Randall kids and enjoy this time with Anne. He reminded himself that these few days might be all he ever had with her. When it was over, she’d go back to England, and he didn’t think she’d shed any tears over him.

  Her friend Elise had changed her mind and decided to stay. How on earth had Eb Bentley won her over? Maybe he should have had a man-to-man talk with the gruff scout. Perhaps Eb could give him a few tips on wooing English ladies.

  After two hours on the road, they stopped to rest the horses.

  “I think we’ll reach Anlauf soon,” Dan said.

  Anne took a parcel from one of her bags and unwrapped four fluffy biscuits. “Mrs. Randall sent these along, and I have some raisins and cheese.”

  They sat down on the creek bank and watched the horses crop the grass.

  After a few minutes of quiet, Anne smiled over at him. “This seems like when we were on the wagon train and stopped for nooning.”

  “Yes, only not so frenetic.”

  She laughed. “We had a few moments, didn’t we? But Mr. Whistler claims our trip was singularly uneventful.”

  “I guess Rob ought to know.” Dan took another bite of biscuit.

  “I keep thinking about those people at Uncle David’s farm,” Anne said. “Sam Hastings and Millie.”

  Dan raised his eyebrows in question as he chewed.

  “If he really was working for Uncle David, how did he expect to get away with impersonating him?” Anne shook her head. “I don’t think Sam is very smart.”

  “Neither do I. We’re well rid of him.” Dan reached for his canteen.

  “I wonder where he went after Deputy Raynor let him go.”

  Dan paused with the canteen partway to his lips. “Well, Raynor told him he couldn’t stay at the farm.” He shrugged. “It’s not our worry now.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Anne rose. “Do you think there’s anythi
ng to see in Anlauf?”

  “We’ll cross the Territorial Road there. It goes on down to California.”

  Star jumped suddenly with a sharp squeal and kicked his heels at Bailey. Anne’s horse responded with a snort and turned his hindquarters toward Star. The pinto gelding awkwardly hopped several steps.

  Dan shot up off his log seat and called in a low voice, “Take it easy, Star. Calm down, fella.”

  The pinto stood shivering near the edge of the creek.

  “What do you suppose startled him?” Anne asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a bee stung him.” Dan looked all around but saw nothing that could account for the horse’s actions. He walked over to Star and patted the trembling gelding’s neck. “What’s the trouble? Hmm?”

  “It’s a good thing we hobbled them,” Anne said.

  “Yes. Let’s move on, if you’re ready.”

  She nodded. “If you think Star is calm enough.”

  A faint rustle came from a thicket. Dan peered at the bushes but couldn’t make out any solid shapes among the thick branches. An eerie feeling crept over him. Eugene Skinner had said the Indians in these parts weren’t too happy since the white settlements had mushroomed. Could there be angry Calapooyas watching them?

  Another rustle, fainter, drew his gaze to the tree line. His chest tightened as a dark-clad figure slipped between the close-growing cedars. Best not to tell Anne. He reached for Star’s halter. “Let’s go.”

  Millie trudged slowly into Elkton past noon of her second day on the trail, leading her horse by the reins. The worthless mare had thrown a shoe three miles back and limped so badly Millie knew she had to walk. It happened when they’d forded a creek. The horse had scrabbled in the rocky streambed and come out the other side minus a shoe. Millie blamed the horse for not being careful.