by Linda Ford
Warren wanted to know what they’d discovered, but quelled his impatience as the men drank their coffee and scooped up the food.
Buck finished first. “We couldn’t find the oxen in the fog. We’ll go out again in the morning if this pea soup has cleared by then.”
“How many are missing?” Luke voiced the question that likely all of the adults had.
“It’s impossible to tell in the fog. Too many though.”
Warren did his best not to reveal how the news affected him. Without oxen, they would have to abandon wagons.
Polly lifted her face to him. “Are Uncle Sam’s oxen gone?”
“You heard Buck. It’s too foggy to know which animals are gone. But we’ll set out as soon as it clears and find them.”
Reverend Shepton pushed to his feet. “Let’s pray for the safe return of the animals and for safety for all of us.”
Warren stood, holding Polly in one arm, and pulling Mary Mae up with the other. “Amen to that, Reverend.”
The others got to their feet as well. A sign of unity, trust, and faith.
Reverend Shepton prayed. At his amen, they all sat except for him. “Tomorrow is the Sabbath. But I think the sermon I prepared is appropriate for tonight and may calm our fears. Does anyone object to me giving it now?”
No one did.
“My text is taken from the story of Hagar fleeing from Sarah’s cruelty. Alone and afraid in the desert, an angel spoke to her. Her faith restored, she said, ‘Thou God seest me.’ I want us to cling to that knowledge. God sees us and our situation and He does not leave us to struggle on our own.”
“Amen,” Warren said.
They sang a hymn and the short service ended.
Anna fussed.
“It’s time to put her to bed,” Judith said.
“I’ll go with you.” Gil took the little girl and they went to their wagon.
Luke and Donna Grace took baby Elena and left to prepare for bed. Reverend and Mrs. Shepton bid goodnight. Only Buck, Warren, Polly and Mary Mae remained.
Buck got up. “I’ll be off, too. I’ll be watching the animals closely tonight.” He disappeared into the mists.
“I don’t want to leave,” Mary Mae whispered.
Polly pressed tight to his chest. “It’s scary in the wagon unless you’re there.”
“I can’t spend the night.”
“Why not?” Polly demanded. “You already spent one night with us. What difference does another make?”
“It makes a difference. Come along, I’ll take you to the wagon.”
They showed no eagerness as they left the fire. The swirling fog darkened as night fell. He gritted his teeth and refused to think he saw wild animals in the shadows.
He lifted Polly into the back and turned to assist Mary Mae. She pressed her hands to his upper arms. “I know you can’t stay, but I wish you could. I feel so vulnerable.”
He wrapped his arms about her and pulled her to his chest. “I will be right here. I’d climb in the wagon, but your reputation is at stake already.” He’d hold them both tight all night if not for that.
She made a protesting sound. “My reputation means nothing especially if a wolf jumps in and attacks me.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think that is going to happen.”
“Humph. You can’t guarantee that.”
His amusement grew at how like Polly she sounded.
“Mary Mae,” Polly called. “I’m all alone.”
Mary Mae sighed. “I’m coming.” She made no move toward joining Polly. Instead her arms crept around his neck.
He lowered his forehead to hers. “I will take care of you.”
“I know.” She tipped her head and somehow in the swirling darkness, his lips found hers. He tasted the dampness and sweetness of her mouth for several seconds then broke away.
“You must go to bed.” He put his hands about her waist and guided her over the tailgate. “Sleep well,” he said.
“You, too.” Her fingers trailed over his cheeks and then she was gone, securing the flap as tightly as she could.
It wasn’t until he lay in his bedroll under the wagon, his head close to the back so he would know if anything or anyone tried to get in, that he realized he had promised to take care of her and she had accepted his promise calmly.
It was only the stress of the day’s events that had prompted either of them to speak those words and to kiss each other. But as he pulled the fur robe around him, he smiled. She had been so trusting. It had felt so right and good to offer his protection.
Polly wrapped her arms about Mary Mae so tight she could hardly breathe, but, in all honesty, that was not what kept her from falling asleep. She’d kissed Warren. Or had he kissed her? Either way, she was a willing participant. And had quite enjoyed it. She and Randolph had kissed, but this was different. Kissing Warren was like making a promise. One she knew he would honor.
Had she lost her mind? Why was she reading so much into his wish to protect her and her fear at being in the wagon without him?
He had promised to take care of her and she had accepted his offer wholeheartedly, trusting him completely.
She would have flipped to her side in disgust except she had no wish to disturb Polly. Whether or not she trusted him was immaterial. It only meant she felt safe with wolves pacing about outside. It had nothing to do with their future. From now on, she must guard her reactions and not give him the impression she needed him.
Thankfully, sleep claimed her.
She wakened the next morning to the sound of someone moving about. Her heart jolted. Was it an intruder? A wolf? She eased away from Polly sleeping at her side and peeked through the tiny opening in the back. Wisps of fog remained, but visibility allowed her to see several of the teamsters standing at their fire, drinking coffee. She couldn’t hear what they said, but they appeared to in deep discussion about something and the fact they didn’t sit to eat sent spidery-like tingles up her spine. Something was wrong.
Then she remembered the missing oxen. They were likely worried about them and preparing to head out and find them.
Polly wakened and pushed past her. “The fog is almost gone. That means they can go get the oxen.”
* * *
Mary Mae did not insist Polly stay in the wagon. It seems she had learned her lesson and Mary Mae didn’t like the thought of her being left alone. “It does. We must make sure the men get something to eat before they leave.” She hurried to join the other women and told herself she wasn’t disappointed not to see Warren anywhere.
“He’s gone with the others to get a horse,” Donna Grace said.
“Who?”
“Why Frenchie, of course. Who else would I mean?” Donna Grace laughed.
The breakfast was barely ready when Warren returned with the other men, all leading horses, saddled and ready to ride. She looked toward the teamsters. Many of them led mules.
Warren came to her. “We have to find the oxen, but we’re leaving Frenchie, Abel and Reverend Shepton to guard the wagons. There are men posted to keep the other animals safely corralled. I don’t expect any trouble, but be careful. Be cautious.”
“You, too.”
They sat side by side as they ate breakfast. Warren finished in record time. The other men did as well. Luke and Gil paused to kiss their wives and their little girls and receive hugs, then led away their horses.
Mary Mae pressed her lips together. She wanted to kiss Warren goodbye, but she didn’t have the right. She settled for gripping his hand. “God go with you and grant you success.”
“God be with you and keep you safe.” He swung into the saddle and the men rode away.
Empty silence followed their departure. Mrs. Shepton clapped. “This gives us time to do some laundry and bake some goods.”
Anna took Polly’s hand, wanting her to play.
It was all normal, and yet, to Mary Mae, it felt strange and unfamiliar as if the center of her world had shifted. She grabbed the dirty dishes
and set to washing them. As soon as that was done, she put the beans that had soaked overnight over the fire to cook. Donna Grace tried to work with little Elena in her sling, but Mary Mae could see how awkward it was.
“I’ll do that.” She motioned to the stew her sister worked on.
Donna Grace pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Work kept her mind distracted from replaying last night over and over. “You look tired. Why don’t you try and nap while the baby is asleep?”
“Elena wouldn’t settle last night.”
Mary Mae shooed her sister away. “Go rest.”
The morning dragged by. Frenchie and Abel prowled around the wagons continually. She couldn’t say if they thought they chased off intruders or if they were simply restless at this enforced delay.
The oxen, corralled nearby, mulled about, as if they too were anxious to be on their way.
Mary Mae grew suddenly motionless as she stared toward the oxen. Or were they restless because they heard or smelled wolves? Were the men who were looking for the missing animals in danger?
Her heart beat ineffectively. Her arms grew weak and she had to put down the heavy pot she held to keep from dropping it.
If something happened to Warren—
She would not think of it. Besides, she had plans that did not include Warren. She would go on to Santa Fe as soon as weather permitted travel. He would sell his goods, reload his wagon and take trade goods back to Independence just as he had been doing. The only difference was he now had Polly to consider. How long did he think he could take the child with him on his travels? And yet he’d refused to let Mary Mae keep her.
But if they married, wouldn’t he let her make a permanent home for Polly?
Was she prepared to marry in order to provide such?
Would marriage to Warren compromise the position she had taken of never needing, wanting or trusting a man?
Confused at how disorderly her thoughts had become, she grabbed up the pot and returned to her task. She almost scraped the contents out for the camp dog to eat before she realized she had started to make cornbread, and with a groan, returned to the campfire.
Judith and Mrs. Shepton watched her, the former with an amused smile, the latter with a worried look.
“Are you okay?” Mrs. Shepton asked.
“Distracted is all. I worry the men might be in danger.”
“So do we all, my dear. Prayer is our greatest weapon.”
Mary Mae agreed, her conscience seared that she had neglected prayer in favor of speculation about the future. Dear Father, I will trust You to guide and guard and to direct my paths.
Noon came and went. The women fed the men who remained behind. They fed the children. They ate, though Mary Mae had little appetite. The men had been gone a long time.
The afternoon hours stretched before them. Because it was Sunday they had decided against doing laundry though Mary Mae would have welcomed it as a diversion. Instead, she had Polly read a story to her. The child needed some proper lessons but she didn’t have the heart to give one at the moment and used the excuse it was Sunday.
Judith got to her feet. “I can’t sit here idle any longer. Who wants to come for a walk with me?”
Donna Grace got immediately to her feet. “I’d like that. Waiting taxes my patience.”
Mary Mae pretended she didn’t want to accompany them. After all, they were anxious because their husbands were gone. She didn’t have that excuse.
“Mary Mae, are you going to come with us?” Donna Grace asked.
She didn’t need any more invitation and joined the other two.
“I’ll keep Elena and Anna if you like,” Mrs. Shepton said. “If Polly will stay and help.”
“That would be nice. I’ll put her in the wagon.” Donna Grace put the sleeping baby in the back of the wagon.
Polly looked from Mary Mae to Anna, her uncertainty plain. But when Anna took her hand, she smiled at the little girl. “I’ll stay and play with her.”
The three women left the circle of the wagons.
“The ladies, they not go far,” Frenchie said. “It be not safe out there.”
Judith groaned. “He certainly knows how to put a damper on our party.” By silent consent they walked around the perimeter of the wagons, never more than a few feet away.
They paused at the herd of oxen and mules.
“It doesn’t take an expert to see that half the animals are gone.” Mary Mae’s shock tightened her voice so the words came out squeaky despite her best efforts to remain calm.
Donna Grace looked as shocked as Mary Mae.
Judith fluttered a hand back and forth. If she meant the gesture to be calming, it failed. “The men will find the animals and bring them back. Everything will be okay.”
Mary Mae silently repeated her earlier prayer. Dear Father, I will trust You to guide and guard and to direct my paths. She added another. Help them find the missing animals, and keep them safe.
The longer the men were gone, the more she worried despite her prayers.
The sun made its sluggish way across the sky and began its descent. The women returned to the campsite, enjoying the warmth of the fire and trying to amuse the children. With every passing hour, Mary Mae’s insides grew tenser until she wondered something didn’t snap.
“Mama,” Anna fussed and tugged at Judith’s skirts.
Judith glanced at the sky. “She’s hungry.”
Reverend Shepton came to the camp. “We might as well have supper. No telling how late the men will be.”
Mary Mae heard the others talking as they prepared and ate supper. She ate her meal, though it tasted like sawdust. Shouldn’t the men have returned by now? What if some evil had befallen them? Her papa had told stories of men being attacked by wolves and killed.
She shuddered.
Darkness closed in about them. Judith and Donna Grace crawled into the wagons with their babies. Mrs. Shepton retired to her wagon. The reverend remained up. Mary Mae wondered if he would stay up all night to guard them.
Frenchie strode over. “You go to bed now. The men, they will not come back tonight, I thinks.”
Polly dozed at her side. Mary Mae took her hand and led her to the wagon.
“Where’s Warren?” Polly asked.
“Looking for the animals.” She urged the child into the wagon.
Polly grabbed her hand as soon as she climbed in beside her. “I’m scared. What if something bad happens to Warren?”
Mary Mae was scared and worried, too. Only a handful of men remained at the camp. If those out looking for the missing animals ran into misfortune, what would the rest of them do?
But greater than that concern was a demanding question she could not answer.
What if something happened to Warren?
She lay down with Polly. The child was soon asleep, but Mary Mae could not force her eyes closed.
Sounds came to her in the dark. A creak she couldn’t identify. A piece of wood thrown on the fire, the flames sending flickering shadows across the canvas of the wagon. The hoot of an owl. Such a mournful sound. The mules brayed and Mary Mae sat bolt upright.
Wolves?
A man called out something. She couldn’t make out the word, but the tone sent shivers up and down her spine.
The animals quieted… the stillness even more eerie than the braying or the hoot.
She lay back and tried to relax, but it was impossible.
Where was Warren? The question circled endlessly in her head.
Then she heard a voice and turned toward the sound, her breath catching in hope, but it was only Frenchie calling to someone. Not Warren. Her lungs sluggishly finished the breath.
Morning had finally come and she got up. Polly wakened and joined her.
The others came to the fire. Mary Mae knew she wasn’t mistaken in seeing tense lines in each face.
Mary Mae did her best to put on a good front as she helped prepar
e breakfast, but she wondered what was the point, seeing as there was no one there to eat it. Except the women and children. She tried to find some enthusiasm in cooking food for them.
She went through the motions of serving the morning meal and taking care of the chores, but her hands and arms acted out of habit as her mind dwelled on the fact that Warren and the others had been gone twenty-four hours. Had they abandoned the wagons? If it only concerned Mary Mae, she might be tempted to think so, but there were wives and children, possessions and plans that involved far too many people for her to take the absence personally.
Besides, just because Randolph had ridden away so easily and her papa had made promises he never kept, didn’t mean Warren was the same.
Her acknowledgement sent a jolt through her limbs. Did that mean she trusted him?
Well, maybe she did. He’d never given her reason not to.
Morning dragged on with stubborn slowness. They ate lunch in silence except for Anna’s chatter. Afternoon faced them, empty as last year’s rain barrel.
The three young women walked again though they were silent. It seemed none of them wanted to voice their worries.
How long? Mary Mae silently wailed. How long do we wait?
Anna’s fussing and Reverend Shepton’s reminder forced their attention to supper.
They prepared the food half-heartedly. Or at least, that was how Mary Mae felt. She thought she might speak for Judith and Donna Grace also, and knew she was correct when Donna Grace choked back a sob.
Mary Mae hugged her sister. But had no words of comfort.
As they gathered round the fire, Reverend Shepton spoke. “Frenchie and the teamsters that are still here say if the men haven’t returned by tomorrow morning, we must move on.”
Mary Mae’s protest was as loud as any of the others.
The reverend held up a hand to silence them. “We can’t stay here waiting to become snowbound.”
He might be correct in that matter, but how could they leave men they cared about behind?
Donna Grace was the first to break the stunned silence. “Do we abandon the wagons and everything?”
“Frenchie says we take the lighter wagons and make a run for the Fort.”
