THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy

by Susan Page Davis

  Stupid horse! She was glad she hadn’t named her.

  With any luck, she could pilfer a few coins and buy some lunch with it. But what was she going to do about the horse?

  She turned and looked behind her. She’d gotten beyond Anlauf and stayed the previous night in a corn crib. She hadn’t slept well and took to the road this morning feeling tired. The mare moved along well with a few stops for water and corn from the supply Millie had collected at her night’s berth. She’d been pleased with her progress until their mishap while crossing one of the numerous creeks they encountered.

  Ever since the mare lost that shoe, she’d feared Adams and Miss Stone would ride up behind her. But so far, she’d met only a few miners and a lone horseman coming from Elkton, and had overtaken a band of freighters heading there even slower than she was moving.

  The freighters had called rude things to her and whistled. One had offered to let her ride one of his mules. Millie grimaced and shook her head as she remembered his boldness. Maybe she should have let her dignity slide and taken him up on it.

  No, that wouldn’t have ended well, she was sure. If she’d been alert, she wouldn’t have let them see her at all. She had no doubt the freighters took particular notice of her and would be able to describe her minutely if anyone asked. She should have taken to the woods and worked her way past them without being seen.

  “I really should have left you with Sam and made him give me Old Blue,” she muttered.

  The mare stretched her neck to the side and tried to grab a mouthful of dead grass. Millie jerked on the reins. “Oh, no you don’t! Come on.”

  Elkton seemed a thriving community, compared to the hamlets she’d passed through earlier. Farms that held a prosperous air lay on the outskirts. The village itself boasted several large houses and businesses, a post office, and at least two houses with boards out front advertising ROOMS TO LET. A pocket of dwellings clustered near the point where Pass Creek flowed into Elk Creek. Beside a whitewashed, two-story house was a rail corral with a dozen or more mules and horses milling about inside. She decided that was as good a place as any to seek a new mount.

  A three-sided shed sat at one side of the corral, but there was no barn. She couldn’t see anyone about, so she led the mare over to the fence and tied her up. She was about to raise her skirt and duck through the fence rails when a door clumped shut. She looked under the mare’s neck. A huge man had come out of the house and was approaching the corral. Worse, a short-haired, yellowish dog with a massive, square head trotted ahead of the man.

  The dog barked fiercely. Her mare gave a squeal and jumped, crowding Millie.

  “Help you?” the big man called. He clapped his hands together once, and the dog fell back, whining. “Sit,” the giant said, and the dog plopped his hindquarters down in the dirt.

  The man walked over and peered over the mare’s back. “You want something, ma’am?” He towered like a rock formation, glaring down at her.

  Millie swallowed hard and met his stony gaze. “Hello.”

  Slowly his sour face smoothed out to neutral then slid into a smile. “Well, well.”

  “I’m looking to trade my horse.” It wasn’t what Millie had planned, or the way she usually acquired a new mount, but sometimes a woman was forced to take extreme measures.

  The man looked down at her mare. Millie retreated a step, so she could take him in without getting a sore neck. His bushy eyebrows tightened.

  “This hoss right here?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s lame.”

  Millie wanted to deny it, but that would be worse than useless. The mare stood with one foot—the shoeless one—tipped up and resting with just the tip of her ragged toe on the ground.

  “She lost a shoe in the creek a few miles back.”

  The man grunted. “Bad place. People always cross there, but they should go upstream a ways. Well, I’ve got a ten-year-old bay gelding out there. He’s healthy, but he’s ornery. Or I’ve got a sixteen-year-old mare I could let go. She’s sweet-natured, but she’s on the thin side.”

  “Oh, I…well…” Millie hated being at a disadvantage. “Would you take my mare in trade?”

  The man sighed. “I’ll have to look her over.” He took a step toward the mare’s hindquarters, ran a hand down her flank, and stretched her hind leg out across his knee. After a moment he set the hoof down gently and straightened to his full height. Once again, Millie was startled by his size and backed up a step.

  “I’ll need a horse that will take a sidesaddle.” She wouldn’t back down on that. She’d ridden the stolen mare astride all the way from Champoeg to Eugene City and vowed she’d never do that again.

  He grunted and looked at the horse again.

  Squinting against the rays of the sun, Millie studied the few horses among the mules in the corral. The bay horse didn’t look bad at all. But where had all her confidence got to? She could usually talk her way out of any situation, but this time she wasn’t so sure. Was it because he was so huge? Men didn’t often intimidate her. She was smarter than most, so what was there to fear?

  He moved around to the side where Millie stood and ran a beefy hand down the mare’s off hind leg.

  “You traveling alone, missy?”

  Millie felt a rush of apprehension, another rarity for her. “No, I’ve got a couple of friends coming along, but they had to make a side trip on an errand. They’ll be along before dark.”

  He eyed her sacks and bundles, tied to the saddle. “Her horn’s pretty torn up. It’ll take a while for her to grow it out again. I’m not sure I can shoe her for a month or two.”

  “Uh, I wondered—uh—how much you’re asking…if I trade my horse, that is…”

  “I’ll have to get twenty-five dollars for the gelding, besides your nag. The mare I can let go for less, I suppose. Hate to, but…” He shook his massive head. Even standing beside Millie on level ground, he was a foot taller than she was. “Well, I’ll take ten for my mare, along with your trade.”

  Millie huffed out a breath. She had less than a dollar in her pocket. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You ain’t got the money?”

  “No.”

  “Well, maybe when your friends get here…”

  Millie considered her options. If she stuck around until after dark and stole one of his horses, he’d know who did it and set out after her. That was a hanging offense. Too risky. There might be a farm where the horses weren’t too close to the house. She doubted that—there’d been too much talk about Indian trouble. Everyone would lock up their livestock at night and turn their dogs loose. She squared her shoulders.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any place in this town where I could earn some money.”

  He smiled slowly and leaned toward her. “Well, now, that depends.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Quickly Anne gathered the remains of their meal and tucked them away while Dan bridled both horses and put their hobbles in the saddlebags. They filled their canteens and mounted. All the while, Dan looked around, scanning the trees and the far bank of the stream. His anxiety made Anne want to gallop away from the spot as fast as Star and Bailey could run.

  Instead they picked up a brisk trot and continued along the road. Dan’s hand never strayed far from the butt of his rifle, where it traveled in the scabbard next to his right knee.

  The road stayed within sight of Pass Creek most of the way. She enjoyed that at first, as the creek gave them a constant supply of water and provided some spectacular scenery as they wended their way through the hills. But now its babble covered other sounds she might have heard, and she wished they weren’t forced to stay so close to it.

  Dan stayed on edge, constantly watching, searching. He barely spoke to her until they began to pass a homestead here and there. She felt his relief as he relaxed in the saddle and smiled across at her.

  “Almost to Anlauf.”

  A small village appeared between the high h
ills, and they approached the junction of their road with another that looked well traveled.

  Dan slowed Star and waited for her to catch up. He pointed southward at the junction. “They say that road goes all the way to California.”

  Visions of gold miners and Spanish priests danced in Anne’s mind.

  “Of course, there’re a lot of hostile Indians between here and there.”

  “Mr. Skinner said there’s been fighting on the Rogue River,” she said. “Is that near here?”

  “It’s a ways.” Dan frowned, and she guessed that was because he had to give such a vague answer. Dan was a man of precision. No doubt he’d ask someone along the way exactly how far it was to where the hostilities raged and to the California border.

  “Are we stopping here?” she asked.

  Dan looked about, as though suddenly recalling the buildings around them. A grist mill rose by the edge of another large stream pouring into Pass Creek.

  “Do you want to?”

  “Not really. It’s still quite a ways to Elkton, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. At least as far as we’ve already come today.”

  Anne stopped Bailey in front of what appeared to be a trading post. “Let’s just stretch our legs for a minute and let the horses breathe.”

  Dan seemed agreeable. They didn’t want to get caught on the isolated road to Elkton after dusk. Neither of them said as much, but the specters of Indians, wildcats, and ruffians hovered in Anne’s mind. And there was always the question of propriety. She’d promised a number of people that she wouldn’t be out alone with Dan at night. She wanted to be able to report to her friends later with a clear conscience. Not that Dan would try to take advantage of the situation. He was much too genteel for that.

  Was that what made her categorize Dan as “unsuitable for husband material”? Was he just too much of a gentleman? The shocking idea brought heat to her cheeks. She slid to the ground without waiting for Dan to help her. As she walked about, pretending to take great interest in the tiny town, she wondered why she should blush over a dull man. She sneaked a glance back toward where he stood beside Star, working at one of the rawhide strings holding his pack to the saddle. True, Dan didn’t have an adventuresome spirit. But he wasn’t as bland as she’d found him a month ago.

  They left Anlauf behind and rode steadily for two hours, stopped for an hour to let the horses rest, and moved on toward Elkton. Where the road was overshadowed by huge pines, an eerie feeling swept over Anne.

  “There’s nothing like this in England. All the forests have been cut over and over for wood.”

  “I guess we’ve both seen a lot of new things since we joined the wagon train,” Dan said.

  Anne looked over her shoulder. As far back as she could see, something moved along the trail.

  “Dan!” She reined Bailey in and swung around for a better look.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. I thought I saw a rider. But I don’t see anyone now.”

  “Perhaps it was a deer crossing the trail.”

  “I don’t think so. It looked like a grayish horse with a man on it, but it was way back there at the bend.” She pointed.

  Dan stared at the back trail for another moment, then turned Star. “Let’s put a little speed on and get out of these woods.”

  Anne said no more but gladly urged Bailey into a canter. They rode side-by-side when the road permitted, and Dan let her take the lead when the ruts and washouts were bad.

  They rounded a bend, and he pulled Star in, squinting at the trail ahead.

  Anne rode up beside him. As far ahead as she could see, a line of pack animals plodded along the route.

  “Freighters,” Dan said.

  “Can we pass them?”

  “Should be able to.” He glanced up at the bluff looming over them on the side away from the stream. “We might have to stay behind them for a while, but it won’t be for long in any case. The town can’t be far ahead.”

  As their horses trotted up behind the string of pack mules, the freighter who rode last in line swiveled in his saddle and looked back.

  “Hello,” he called.

  “Good afternoon,” Dan replied, riding ahead of Anne. “Where you headed?”

  “Elkton, then Scottsburg,” the freighter said.

  “How far out are we from Elkton?” Dan asked.

  “Less than two miles.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Dan looked back at Anne. “Not much farther.”

  The freighter stared past him, and when he focused on Anne his eyes bulged. “What do you know? This must be our lucky day—two winsome women in one afternoon.” He laughed and met Dan’s gaze but sobered when he realized Dan wasn’t amused.

  “Sorry, mister. No offense to your better half. It’s just that we saw a rather robust redhead ride past us a couple of hours ago.”

  “Watch your tongue,” Dan growled.

  Anne pulled gently on Bailey’s reins and fell back a little. Dan could get information from the rough freighters. She would keep in the background until he came and told her what he planned to do. Perhaps once they got beyond this hill, where the road squeezed between the creek and a steep incline, they could pass the mule train.

  Sure enough, he soon turned Star and rode back to her.

  “He says there’s a place up ahead where we can get up off the road and pass them—where the hillside isn’t so abrupt.”

  They rode at a walk for a few more minutes until the vista opened up ahead of them. The widening horizon promised open farmland.

  “Come on,” Dan said. “Let’s get some speed up.”

  Anne urged Bailey to follow him, and they trotted off the path into the weeds and bushes. As they dodged between a few pines, she wasn’t sure they were making much headway against the freighters. At last the ground evened out and they came to a farm with a hayfield bordering the road. They cantered along the edge, parallel to the long line of mules. More than thirty pack animals, all heavily loaded, made up the caravan. The drovers looked up one at a time, as she and Dan came into their peripheral vision. All of them stared at Anne, and she felt her face flush. Determined not to let them engage her in conversation, she gazed straight forward, at Dan’s broad shoulders. He did make a magnificent figure on horseback. Why had she never noticed that before? She could almost see him riding to hounds at Stoneford. He would enjoy the chase—but she doubted he’d take to the social life in the aristocratic circles of England.

  At last they were past the freighters. Dan kept to the field a bit longer, and she was glad he didn’t take her up onto the road immediately in front of their leaders. It was embarrassing enough to be seen with her hair coming loose and fluttering behind her. She did hope they found decent accommodations this evening. Something told her the muleteers would get rowdy when the sun went down.

  As they neared Elkton, fatigue set in. Bailey’s easy trot had become jarring, and Anne would have given much to stop the motion of the horse. When at last the town appeared, she gazed around in disbelief.

  “Are we there? Truly?”

  “Yes.” Dan smiled gently at her. “I know you’re exhausted, but really, Anne, you’ve been a wonderful traveler. You haven’t complained once.”

  “And we’ll make it to Scottsburg tomorrow?” Her voice had a plaintive note she regretted, but Dan’s smile only deepened.

  “Yes, dear lady. I’ll ask about it, but I’m sure it’s only half the distance we’ve come today, though we’ll follow the Umpqua, and they say it takes more turns than a screwdriver.”

  She stared at him for a moment before her tired brain caught up. She laughed. “I don’t mind a twisty river, so long as we get there. Oh Dan, just think! Scottsburg tomorrow, and perhaps I shall see Uncle David the next day.”

  Cautious Dan couldn’t exult with her. He gave a judicious nod. “Perhaps. For now, I suppose we’d best find accommodations.”

  “Oh look! There’s a place serving food.” Anne pointed to a
one-story building with a crudely lettered sign: MEALS.

  “Did you want to eat?” Dan asked.

  “Let’s find rooms first. Perhaps it will be a nice boardinghouse with supper included. But I’ll admit I’m hungry, and I’ll wager you’d like a cup of coffee and some hot food.”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down.” Dan jerked his head toward a man driving up the street in a farm wagon. “Why don’t I ask this fellow if he knows where we can stay?”

  Anne waited with the horses while Dan walked out to meet the farmer. The man halted his team in the street and talked earnestly for a couple of minutes, pointing here and there as he spoke. Dan took it all in, nodding at strategic points. He turned and jogged back to Anne while the farmer and his team clopped off eastward.

  “He says there’s at least three hotels or boardinghouses, all run out of private homes. The freighters will probably camp outside the village, so we don’t need to worry about them crowding us out. One of the boardinghouses is right over there.” He pointed across the street and down a bit, to a graceful wood-frame house of three full stories.

  “That looks respectable,” Anne said.

  “Let’s go and ask if they have two rooms.” Dan untied the horses, and they decided to walk, leading their mounts the short distance.

  The cushioned rocking chairs on the front porch tempted Anne, but she allowed Dan to guide her inside. In the foyer, an impressive, walnut-railed staircase wound upward. A table served as a desk, with a box divided into pigeonholes mounted on the wall behind it. The furniture looked solid and functional. Anne did not aspire to elegance on the frontier, just comfort, and the cozy fire burning in a stone fireplace assured her she would find it here.

  A middle-aged woman came through a doorway and smiled at them. “Stopping over, folks?”

  “Yes.” Dan stepped forward as she moved behind the desk. “We’re in need of two rooms, if you have them.”

  She frowned. “Well, I’ve got one nice front room you could have, but if you need another…” She peered past him at Anne. “Is it just the two of you, or do you have children?”