by Merry Farmer
“All I really care about is having a comfortable home and a bunch of happy children someday,” Cade continued. Lynne couldn’t see him, but his voice was warm and contented.
“Is that so?” she said, stepping up into the wagon bed with one hand still around her braid.
“It is. You may not believe it, but I come from a good enough family myself. My father works in shipping, in partnership with your uncle. That’s how I got my job.”
“Oh?” She paused as her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the back of the wagon. There was a lamp nearby somewhere. She searched for it in the piles of boxes and other trail supplies.
“Yep. In fact, what I’m most looking forward to about getting back home to Denver City is making my case to your uncle for him to give me more responsibility.”
“I see.” Lynne was impressed with his initiative in spite of herself.
She found a lamp sitting next to a box of matches on top of one of the crates. The only way to keep her braid from unraveling was to clamp the end in her mouth. Cade was outside, so she bit her braid and set to work lighting the lamp.
“There’s a lot of men out in the Colorado Territory right now who have their hearts set on building their own business, working for themselves,” Cade went on as light flared in the cramped space of the wagon. “I don’t know if it makes me less ambitious or that much smarter than those men, but I’m content to work for your uncle, as long as he’ll have me.”
Lynne spit her braid out and held it once more. “Why wouldn’t he have you?”
She moved the lamp across its stack of boxes so that it could shed light on her hope chest. Her box of hair ribbons and pins should be near the top. Braid in one hand, she opened the lid.
Cade hadn’t answered. She twisted toward where she knew he was sitting outside. The light of the lamp reflected off of the canvas of the wagon cover, giving her a closed-in feeling.
“Is there some reason my uncle wouldn’t keep you on?” she rephrased her question.
“Well,” Cade began slowly.
Lynne turned back to the open hope chest.
“The thing is,” Cade went on.
On top of her things, turned so that it faced her, Lynne found a photograph of her father, splattered with blood, his throat slit.
She screamed.
Chapter Four
Cade shot to his feet at the sound of Lynne’s scream, letting his coffee tumble to the ground. He reached to his waist, but he’d laid off wearing his gun belt for the last few days. A few of their closer neighbors glanced up, wondering what was going on. Cade tore around to the back of the wagon, reaching the opening in the cover at the same time as Lynne backed toward it. For half a second, she teetered as if she might fall, her long hair coming undone.
“What’s wrong?” He reached to pull her out of the wagon, looking to see what had startled her.
His arms slipped around her and he held her close as he lifted her down. She leaned heavily on him, clutching something. The press of her weight, the feel of her body trembling, had him tightening his grip, cradling her close. Even at the end of a hard day on the trail, panic rippling off of her, she smelled of sunlight and life. He touched his lips to the top of her head to comfort both of them. Then he peered inside the wagon.
It was empty. The sunset was fading fast, but Lynne had lit a lamp which still sat atop a pile of boxes in the wagon. With its light, all he could see were the supplies they were carrying with them and the bedroll he’d laid out for her when he set up camp. At the far end of the wagon, Lynne’s hope chest stood open, but that was it.
“Was it a spider or something?” he ventured, knowing no spider could have made Lynne scream the way she had.
She shook her head against his chest.
“You folks all right over there?” one of their neighbors called.
“We’re fine,” Cade answered. “Just a little spook is all.”
He turned his attention back to Lynne as she lifted her hands.
His heart skipped a beat. She held something up to him, a photograph. Reluctant as he was to let go, he loosened his hold and stepped away so that he could see. Her face was pale and her eyes were large as she handed him the ruined photograph. It was a picture of her father, but a slash had been made across his throat and a line of something resembling blood had been drawn across it.
Cade saw red. “I’ll find who did this,” he growled. Find them and string them up by their toenails.
“No,” Lynne whispered. She brushed a hand over her face as if to cool it and smoothed her hair back.
“This is clearly a threat, and I won’t have anyone threatening you in any way,” he said, more determined.
“No, no, it’s nothing.” She cleared her throat when her voice cracked.
Cade gaped at her. She smoothed her skirt now and did her best to stand taller. He couldn’t fathom her fragile calm.
“This is not nothing,” he told her. Fire was running through his blood now and he would fight anyone to keep her safe, even her. “This means that someone—and I think we can guess who—is here, in this wagon train with us, trying to do you harm.”
Lynne shook her head, breathing deep and slow. “It’s probably just an accident. I may have left something sharp sitting against my father’s portrait and accidentally cut the paper when I lifted it.”
“Lynne,” he scolded, stepping closer to her.
She backed away, twisting the ends of the half-untangled braid that drooped over her shoulder. “Yes, that’s the most likely explanation. I…I took Papa’s portrait out of the frame for some reason and it was accidentally damaged.”
Cade couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She couldn’t possibly be so blind as to think this was all an accident.
But that was the point. She wasn’t that blind.
“I know you don’t want to think about the danger you’re in,” he began as if soothing an upset child.
“It was an accident,” she insisted, suddenly as stubborn as a mule. “Now give me the photograph. I’m going to bed.”
Cade wouldn’t be put aside. He handed over the photograph, but rested a hand on her shoulder as he did.
“Look, I know you’re scared, but—”
“I am not scared,” she snapped. She pulled herself to her full height, tipping that pretty chin of hers up high. It trembled in spite of her declaration. “I’m not afraid of anything. I’m Papa’s brave…. You’re the one who’s making this molehill into a mountain.”
For a moment, Cade could only stand there and gawp at her. “You may not take this threat seriously,” he began.
“It’s not a threat, it’s an accident.”
“But I do.” He leaned closer to her. “I swore that I would protect you, keep you safe, and I intend to do it. Whether you like it or not.”
“You’re a fool then,” she said, but her threat didn’t mean much when her bottom lip quivered.
He stared at that lip and its mate, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. The urge rose up in him, powerful and sudden as a thunderstorm. He could feel the energy of her emotions in her body, and stepped even closer to her. She leaned into him as if she could do with a kiss to calm her down. She would taste like wildfire and honey. And he would get completely carried away when he had a job to do.
He took a step back and a deep breath. Lynne gasped, losing her balance, her soft lips pressing shut in a tight line. It was just his luck that she’d been willing to let him kiss her. He couldn’t be distracted.
“I’m going to find who did this,” he said, cursing the fact that his voice was full of gravel.
He cleared his throat and marched around the side of the wagon, searching for clues.
“Ben?” he called. The boy would be the first one who would have seen anyone tampering with their wagon. “Ben? Where are you?”
A scuffle and snort sounded from the front of the wagon. As Cade reached the driver’s seat, Ben scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes.
�
��Huh?” he mumbled as Cade put a foot up on the wagon wheel and looked up at him. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”
Cade narrowed his eyes. “You been drinking with the miners again?”
“Psht, no.” Ben swayed where he stood, losing his balance and bumping against the buckboard. For a second, Cade thought he would fall off the wagon completely.
“You see anyone interfering in the wagon recently? Anyone in there who shouldn’t be?” Cade pressed on.
“This is unnecessary.” Lynne strode up to his side. She’d regained her color and more than a little of her vigor. “Ben, go back to sleep. And please don’t associate with the miners anymore. You’re too young.”
“I’m fifteen,” Ben declared with pride, then sank to sit on the driver’s seat. A moment later he lay down and passed out.
“If he can’t keep his eyes open and watch out for you like he should, then I have half a mind to find another driver,” Cade grumbled.
He marched back down the length of the wagon, searching the growing darkness for anyone else who could have seen or had a hand in any mischief with the wagon. Everyone was getting settled for the night. A somber mood still hung over the entire wagon train after the deaths that morning.
“My Papa hired Ben to drive the wagon.” Lynne chased him. “You can’t—”
“Your father hired a boy, not a man,” Cade argued.
“Ben has performed his duties exceptionally so far.”
“Ben let someone get into the wagon to vandalize your property.”
“It was a mis—”
“It was not a mistake, Lynne.” He stopped and rounded on her. She nearly smacked into him when he did. “The Briscoe Boys sent an agent along with this wagon train to make good on the threats they made to your father.”
“They did not.” She sighed as if he had told her the Briscoe Boys had sent a giant sea serpent wrapped up in ribbons along with the wagons.
Cade ignored her protests. “I intend to find this bastard and deal with them.” He walked on. At the very least, he would have to tell Pete Evans, the trail boss. “We should reach Ft. Kearny in a couple of days. I’m going to talk to the regimental commander there and ask for more escort.”
“Really, Cade,” Lynne scoffed. There was a spark of real fear in her eyes as she went on. “This is nothing. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a regimental anything looking out for me. I don’t need you looking out for me.”
He stopped and faced her. This time she pulled herself up in time to glare at him, clutching the ruined photograph in front of her. She looked like determination itself. She looked like trouble with long dark hair.
“I think you do need someone looking out for you,” he said, feeling his heartbeat all the way down to his groin. “I think you need it far more than you know.”
For the next few days, as they traveled the flat, sunbaked miles to Ft. Kearny, Lynne kept her fear locked up tight in her chest. She couldn’t be in danger, she just couldn’t. She was miles away from home, from her Papa or anything she knew. The idea that she was exposed and vulnerable to anyone who wanted to threaten her was simply too much for her to bear. She was brave, and brave people faced their fears with their heads held high. So, rather than dwell on the terrifying message of her Papa’s photograph, she tucked it away in her hope chest and spent all her time helping Callie wherever she could.
“Callie’s made the decision to marry John Rye,” she told Cade. They walked from the field where their wagon train had parked into the cluster of buildings and corrals that made up Ft. Kearny. “I think it’s as good a decision as any, all things considered.”
“Uh-huh,” Cade answered without glancing back at her. He marched on toward the fort’s command building, brow furrowed, strides long.
“I’ve offered to loan her a lace shawl that used to belong to one of my aunts.” Lynne jogged to catch up to his side. “It’s the nicest thing I can do under the circumstances.”
“Yep.”
He wasn’t listening to her. A pair of miners leaning against a hitching post with Reverend Joseph talking to them were forced to jump out of the way as Cade stormed past. They hopped up onto the porch in front of the supply depot to avoid being plowed into.
Ft. Kearny not much of a military installation. It was more like a much needed store of goods along the trail. It had built up over the past decade and a half as more and more wagon trains headed west. The closest thing it had to walls protecting it was a barrier of cottonwood trees around the perimeter. It looked as though it could house quite a few soldiers, but at that moment Lynne noticed only a few people in anything resembling a uniform.
“I thought it would be neighborly if you attended the ceremony with me later this evening,” she pushed on as Cade stepped up onto the porch of the military headquarters.
“Sure,” he said before striding through the open front door. “I need to talk to someone about hiring a few armed men to come with our wagon train,” he announced to the middle-aged man behind a desk in the center of the room.
The man and a few others in worn out clothes and dusty boots stared at him, their conversations interrupted.
“Excuse me?” the man behind the desk said. He wasn’t rude or unkind, but Lynne felt her face flush nonetheless.
“This isn’t necessary,” she hissed at Cade.
“I’ll say what’s necessary,” he murmured to her before facing the man at the desk. “Half a dozen men with rifles and pistols will do.”
“As an escort?” The man behind the desk split his confused look between Cade and Lynne.
“I was under the impression that the army offered armed escort to pioneers traveling west.” Cade took a few steps closer to the desk.
The man behind it stood and came around to hold a hand out to him.
“Sargent Waters,” he introduced himself.
“Cade Lawson.” Cade nodded. “And this is Miss Lynne Tremaine. Threats of a serious nature have been made against her life.”
“Cade, stop this,” Lynne tried to silence him.
He ignored her. “I need a few men to come with us to Denver City to make sure none of those threats are carried out.”
“I see,” Sargent Waters said. He looked Lynne up and down, trying and failing to hide an amused grin.
Lynne’s cheeks flared with embarrassment. “You’re wasting this gentleman’s time.”
At last Cade turned to her. “I’m trying to keep you safe and get you to Denver City in one piece. Whoever is trying to do you harm was clever enough to get inside of your wagon and into your hope chest. What they did to your father’s picture was just a warning and a show of what they can do. I won’t let that happen.”
“It’s fine. Really.” Lynne insisted. She placed her hand on his forearm.
Cade glanced down at her fingers, color seeping into his face.
“Well, I’d help you if I could,” Sargent Waters said. His grin was plain for all the world to see now. “And a couple of years ago, the army would have had plenty of men to spare for this important mission.”
Lynne was tempted to huff in indignation at his tone. Cade glowered at him.
“The problem is, since war broke out back East, almost all of the soldiers who were guarding the trail, keeping the Indians away, have rushed off to join the cause.”
“Who are you, then?” Lynne asked, not caring how impudent she sounded.
“Nebraska Territory volunteer militia,” Sargent Waters answered. “Holding down the fort until the war ends and the soldiers get back to real business.” He nodded to underscore his answer. “But I’m afraid there aren’t enough of us to spare escorting fair maidens across the prairie.”
He was laughing at her. Lynne wasn’t about to stand around and accept that kind of behavior.
“Come on, Cade. We have more important things to do than waste this gentleman’s time with frivolities and flights of fancy.” She turned to leave, tugging Cade’s sleeve to prompt him to follow.
Cad
e did follow, but the second they were out on the porch, he said, “I don’t know why you aren’t taking the threats against you seriously.”
She forced herself to laugh, even though her heart trembled. He had no idea how seriously she did take it. If she gave one inch, showed the slightest weakness, even to herself, her fear would destroy her and the Briscoe Boys would win.
“A little petty vandalism and suddenly you’re trying to raise an army?” she said as glibly as she could.
“You need protection.”
He took hold of her arm as she tried to walk away and spun her to face him. Their eyes met. Something in the bright determination of Cade’s blue eyes sent a bolt of lightning straight through her gut and lower. He cared about her. It may have come off as bravado, but she could see in his eyes that he truly cared. Of all things, it made her knees weak.
She cleared her throat and shifted a step back to firm up her knees and to break away from him. She couldn’t let Cade make her weak either.
“If I agree not to argue the point with you for the moment, will you let it go?”
He crossed his arms and stared at her with narrowed eyes. “As long as letting it go involves me keeping a close eye on you, day and night.”
She took a deep breath. “Suit yourself.” She brushed her skirts and patted her hair. “I am going down to the stream to take a bath.”
For a heartbeat he looked perplexed. Then he burst into a broad smile. “You. Take a bath in a stream?”
Even she had to admit that the idea was as ridiculous as it sounded.
“I haven’t bathed properly in more than a week,” she explained with a long-suffering sigh. There’s a stream not a mile from here, a tributary of the Platte. I heard Mrs. Weingarten say that several people were planning to bathe in it and wash clothes. She advised taking advantage of the stream while we could.”
“Fine,” Cade agreed.
At last! He agreed with her over something. She smiled.
“I’m coming with you,” he added.
Lynne opened her mouth to protest. No sound came out. Her pride rebelled, but a deeper part of her was grateful he had offered to watch out for her. She pressed her lips together and frowned. “You can come down to the stream with me, I’ll let you do that much.”
