by J. R. Biery
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At the farmer’s market that Saturday in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, they found the right two horses to buy. The gentle pair of bays were solid animals, well trained, with gentle temperaments. The gelding and mare were named Bob and Sue. Claire thought the matched pair of bays were lovely, like something out of a picture book. They had rich brown coats, black legs and muzzles, and long black manes and tails. Even though they came with saddles, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to ride one of them, but she followed the children in petting them.
Bonnie loved them on sight. She was already pleading to be the first to ride Sue.
It was the day Henry found the receipt in the Lambton’s wagon box. The ensuing argument was loud enough for all to hear.
“I told you we need that money, you stole from me.”
“My parents desperately needed the money, money we owed them. We still owe them. I left us half. If it’s as easy to sell the clothes out west as you think, we’ll have plenty of money.”
“You think it’s that simple. We have the wagons and now there are no more expenses. What about camping fees, fresh food, or this horse? Don’t you trust that I know what is best for my family?”
“I think you would never have paid them anything. I did what I thought was right. What you should have done. What you told me you had done before we left Boston?”
Claire turned away in embarrassment at the public argument. She and her mother led the children into a store to buy candy. Bonnie stayed, clearly waiting to intervene if Henry tried to slap Bella. Claire knew there would be no physical blows. Henry was angry, but he would never hit a woman. It was hard to understand why the couple seemed to like to feud more than live together in harmony.
That night, as soon as everyone retired, the camp became eerily quiet. Even the animals seemed to be holding their breaths and waiting.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The horses changed everything. They had all taken turns learning to ride the wonderful matched pair of bays. The boys claimed to prefer riding their favorite oxen to riding the horses, probably because they were still too short to feel in control even when the saddles were adjusted.
Mother and Claire had been terrified, but taken their turn being led around on the horses and would ride them but only beside one of the men. Mary Anne would only ride seated behind Bonnie or Father Wimberley. Bella had refused to try, using a crying Barney as her excuse. Henry insisted she learn and they had quarreled bitterly for a whole day before she gave in and tried it. Of the women, only Bonnie liked to ride.
The men now posted up and down alongside the wagons, talking to everyone, making sure the oxen moved along by flicking them with new, longer whips. Tom and Jim walked along beside the lead bullocks, and Bonnie walked beside the third. At night, everyone still slept inside under the canopies, the tents neatly stored at the foot of tailgates.
Whenever one of the men needed a rest from riding, Bonnie would mount up and take off. She loved riding ahead to scout and look for food, but with Father Wimberley always fussing, she was never allowed to go very far ahead. He didn’t believe in using guns and absolutely refused to let Bonnie try to use one. Henry agreed with him.
One evening at the campfire, Bonnie was complaining about how ignorant and stubborn men could be at times. Claire refused to listen to her friend’s complaint about either man. But Claire confessed, “I do envy your boldness.”
“I love to ride. If your father would listen to sense, I could find some game to add to the pot each night. We could all use a little more variety.”
Claire nodded in agreement, eager as always for her supper, even if it was beans and fried fatback. Bonnie squatted to carefully turn the meat, then moved it out of the way enough to put the pot of coffee on to heat. She stared up at Claire, smiling at her cute friend. Claire, as usual, had the bonnet pushed back to hang from its ribbons around her neck. She had gone back to combing her curly hair into long sausage like curls and letting them spread out from a gathered knot atop her head.
“You surprise me. I thought you’d want to ride. If nothing else, so you could talk fashion again. You two never get to talk in the evenings, do you?”
Claire looked puzzled for a minute, then shook her head. “It upsets Bella if we do, then we all have to listen to them fight.”
“You could be a good rider, if you’d ride astride.”
Claire blushed, scandalized by the idea. “I wouldn’t dare. You’re the one with the split skirt. And don’t offer to loan it to me again. I would be lost in it, dragging it through the dust.”
“I saw a woman in Harrisburg riding astride. She had on a regular dress. Here, step over and I’ll show you.”
Claire followed her around behind the wagons and Bonnie showed her how to sweep her skirt up between her legs and handed her the full skirt hem as she scratched her head. “Well, I guess she was wearing a skirt, because then she just tucked the back skirt into her waistband. Looked a little like Turkish pants, you know those bloomers you told me about before.”
Claire held the skirt tail and turned from side to side. “It might work if I had a belt. You’re right, it does look a little like bloomers, and it doesn’t show the shape of my legs or rear. That would never do.”
“Don’t you have a belt?”
“No, but I will.”
The two women were still laughing when Mother Wimberley yelled at Bonnie. “I smell something burning.”
Claire watched her friend disappear and felt happy for the first time in days.
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The next day when the two men needed a rest from the saddle, Bonnie and Claire finally got the chance to ride together. Although, still not as confident as Bonnie, the gait of the mare Sue was smooth and she followed everything that the other horse, Bob, did. Claire had no trouble riding, even when Bonnie urged her horse into a trot.
When they returned, laughing, their hair tossed and blowing across their pink faces, the men and boys with the wagon train smiled at the pretty image. Bonnie dismounted and helped Claire down, then began to shorten the stirrups on the gelding. She showed Tom what she was doing and he groaned.
When both horses and saddles were ready, Father Wimberley and Bonnie helped the boys up and into the saddle. The horses walked off with the lighter boys and Bonnie ran alongside, yelling instructions. When it looked like they would be in trouble if the animals decided to run, Bonnie managed to snag both bridles and turned the group back toward the wagon train.
“You need to relax, lads. The horses can sense your fear. Just sit up straight, hold your reins the way I showed you and ride them back to the wagon. When you get there, turn them and ride back.”
Claire clapped softly from the back of the wagon as the two boys rode up on the prancing horses. “Now you look like cowboys.”
Determined, the two rode back to Bonnie. When she was satisfied, she took the reins of the pair of animals and handed them back to Father Wimberley.
“Good start for all four of you, I’d say. Another week of practice, and you’ll all be able to outride us, even Claire,” Father Wimberley said.
Claire sniffed at the faint praise, but sat up straighter in her seat. If Bonnie could learn to ride, she could and would.
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It was mid-June when they reached Columbus, Ohio. The weather had favored them and it had been a little over five weeks since they left Boston. Bonnie came up beside Claire’s wagon as she approached the riders.
Bonnie spoke first. “According to the farmer last night, we’re close to Columbus. I want to ride to the barracks to see Ian and Shawn.”
Henry Lambton answered, “You want to ride cross country in this. Look at the sky. I vote against it. We’ve not time to pause and detour around to this place. Even if we find it, the boys probably aren’t there. It’s a foolish waste of time.”
Father Wimberley agreed, “You know, Henry and I seldom agree, but darling, we can’t spare the time. We need to keep moving while the roads ar
e good. You see that wall of clouds. It’s going to pour any minute. If we turn off on the road to the fort, we might get mired in mud and lose an entire day.”
Angry, Bonnie didn’t argue, just donned a yellow rain slicker and took her place beside the nervous oxen.
The rain began as soon as they pulled onto the road. The road was macadam with no danger of getting mired down.
Bonnie yelled to Claire. “I can’t bear it. Every step is taking me farther from the arsenal and training center.”
“Fussing won’t do you any good, you heard the men,” Claire answered.
“Why do the men get to decide?” Bonnie snapped.
Claire stared at her angry friend, past her to the boys in their own slickers. The three in yellow were the only discernible shapes in the driving rain. She couldn’t even hear the riders in the pouring rain. Claire sneezed, reached behind her for her shawl and one of the oversized umbrellas to prop in front to keep her dress from getting damp.
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Later, after the first shower stopped, they encountered a large cargo wagon headed the opposite direction on the road. It was pulled by a team of four mules. When the men rode up beside the wagon to talk, Bonnie moved up closer as well.
“A fine day for traveling. That’s a pretty big load.”
The man looked at the oxen and series of wagons strung out along the road. The oxen looked painted, their brown and white spotted hides still wet from the storm. The canvas covered wagons bloomed white, like spring mushrooms behind them. He shook his head. “You folks lost?”
Father smiled tightly. How many times had they been asked the same question, in just that tone, Claire wondered? “On our way to Independence, Missouri.”
“Well, this is the road. Not near so pretty once you pass Vandalia, Illinois. Up ‘till then, she’s a peach to travel. Especially on a day like this one.”
“Where are you headed?” Henry asked.
“Just up another six miles. Taking supplies for the Columbus Barracks. They’ve been ordering a lot, feeding and training a bunch of troops again, getting ‘em ready to fight the Indians. Hadn’t been so busy since the Civil War ended.”
“Is there a shortcut from here?” interrupted Bonnie.
The man looked at the tall woman and grinned. “Well, I might could give you a ride, but the road changes up ahead. Still pretty good. We could talk awhile if these mules get mired,” he said, grinning again.
Bonnie blushed and looked off to the right. “I meant riding from here.”
“About three miles, if you can fly due North. But they ain’t no road that way. It’s all farm country. You can’t get this bunch through. No way.”
Bonnie turned and walked ahead to the Wimberley’s wagon. She climbed up into the back of the wagon, took out one of the sandwiches she’d made up for lunch and one of the apples. She shoved one into each pocket. She pulled a canteen from under the end of the oilcloth and shook it. She was filling it from the half-empty barrel on the side of the wagon when Mother Wimberley walked up beside her.
“What’s going on, Bonnie?”
“Mother Wimberley, the man says the Columbus Arsenal is three miles across country due north. I’ve got to go see my brothers.”
“Walking alone?”
“I’d rather ride Sue. But walking if I have to.”
“Robert!” Mother Wimberley shouted.
Father Wimberley rode up, stared down at both determined women. He dismounted and handed Bonnie the reins. “Henry, you’ll need to escort her.”
“Nonsense. I’m not riding to hell and back on a whim.”
“Get down, then,” Father Wimberley said through gritted teeth. “Boys,” he bellowed.
“Bonnie, you’re not going off alone?” Claire called. “It’s raining,” she added, even though it had stopped.
Tom and Jim came running and Bonnie turned back to grab a rucksack and add two more sandwiches, then removed the one from her pocket and put two apples in its place. She crossed the long handles over her chest, the strap of the canteen in the opposite direction.
“I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Father Wimberley said.
“I’d feel better if you’d let me take a gun along, or at least your knife with its compass,” Bonnie argued.
“And have you shoot yourself or one of the lads. Never,” he said as he removed the belt with his special knife from his waist. Bonnie waited until Tom was in the saddle, then adjusted his right stirrup. The angry man adjusted the other.
“Claire,” he yelled. Claire leaned forward to stare at them. “Get down, you’ll have to manage Bonnie’s team until she and the boys return.”
Bonnie and the boys turned off the road into the high grass toward the distant hill.
“But Father, what if it rains again.” Father had turned his back to her, stood watching bright dots of yellow disappear.
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Claire flung the ugly oil-cloth wrap onto the empty wagon seat. Her feet were killing her, even though she wore her trail boots instead of her dress shoes. No one seemed interested that the bottom half of her dress was wet and constantly wanted to tangle in her legs as she walked. At least it had stopped raining again. In front of her, she watched Henry Lambton carefully fold his own cover and pass it up to Bella. She waited, finally saw her Father ahead as they rounded a curve in the highway.
Bonnie and the twins had been gone for hours. She saw her Father pull on the horn of his lead ox to stop them. “Noon stop. Claire, pass out food. You ladies may want to get down.”
Claire’s mouth dropped. What was she? Didn’t she get a break? Instead, she stared at her father as he helped her mother down from the wagon. She had never thought about it before, but he did this every day. Bonnie had done it for weeks, walk along beside these bellowing beasts. Even the young twins did it every day.
Mary Anne appeared beside her. “I can help, Aunt Claire.” The little girl gave her a bright smile and Claire let her arm curve around her. “Thanks, I’ll be back in a minute. Can you pass out the food today?”
But the little girl was already headed to the back of the Wimberley wagon. Why hadn’t she realized how hard it must be for the others?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hours later, feet numb, back aching, Claire jumped as she heard horses running behind her. She pressed close against the lead ox as she heard someone shout, “Hi-yo, Hi-yah.”
Two horses ran past, each carrying a yelling little boy. Claire pushed away from the ox she had been leaning on. A very handsome soldier rode up beside her, something on his lap, his horse prancing as he raised his hat to Claire. She stood wearily beside the ox team, only registering his bright smile. Automatically, she raised a hand to pat her hair. Ahead, still astride their pretty horses, the boys were laughing.
She noticed in front of her, Henry had his coat off. It showed damp circles under his arms as he waved a fist at the boys who’d nearly run him down. “About time you scamps came back. Where is Bonnie?”
Suddenly, Claire remembered her friend. From time to time today, the image of her friend had appeared to remind her to press on. One more step at a time. She tried not to think about her, the way she’d seen her this morning. Bonnie had coiled and pinned her hair out of the way and her eyes had been dancing with green and gold, as she’d complained about men.
Tom was already dismounting to hand his reins over to the man. Claire watched as Henry tried to mount and the horse spun about underneath him. She noticed the army officer smother a laugh before he rode closer and captured the horse’s reins. She watched Henry adjust the horse’s stirrups before rushing to mount up again.
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Calum rode up slowly to capture and calm the horse so the storekeeper could correct his mistake before trying again. Beside him now was a young woman, half-dozing in the sun. With her dark hair and bitter downturned mouth, this would be Bella Lambton. He leaned over and saw the pale little boy on the floor of the wagon beside her and smiled. Again he tipped h
is hat and said “ma’am,” startling her awake.
Now that the woman’s husband was seated, Calum rode up to the lead wagon. A tall, handsome man with a worn expression was working the lead team, watching the commotion behind him.
“Hello there, can you give me a hand, Mister Wimberley, I presume?”
“Yes. What’s going on, what happened to Bonnie?”
Calum smiled, at least there was one decent human being. “She was stung by a bee, seems to have had a bit of a bad reaction. Is there somewhere I can lay her down?”
Of course,” he said as he yelled “whoa” to his team and the two McKinney’s boys moved to grab a horn of the leader on either side. He clambered into the center of the joined wagons and held out his arms as Calum reluctantly surrendered his burden. Calum stared into the shadowed stillness, not surprised when a little girl climbed over the bench of the wagon with a rag and a gourd of water in her hands.
“You must be their beautiful little sister, Mary Anne.” The child looked at him shyly but nodded her head, obviously used to the accurate compliment.
Again he tilted his hat to the woman looking back through the wagon at him. “Mrs. Wimberley?”
“Yes, but how did you know our names?” she asked.
Calum smiled. “The boys did a lot of talking on the ride home, I feel like I know everyone pretty well.”
Mrs. Wimberley nodded, confused that he knew her name and she didn’t know him. “She’ll be fine?” she asked.
He backed his horse, then rode up beside her. “Make her some willow bark tea and give her the rest of the day to rest. She should be good as new by morning.”
“Of course, but, who are you?”
Calum doffed his hat and bowed over the hand she offered. “Lieutenant Calum Douglas. I’m in charge of the company of new recruits that includes the Magee boys, Shawn and Ian. Bonnie came to visit them, but I guess you knew that.”
