by Merry Farmer
“Careful,” he said and handed the gun to her as gingerly as he could.
Lynne took it with a smile and twisted to point it, willy-nilly, off into the prairie.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop.” Cade grabbed her wrist before she had her arm fully raised.
“What?” she snapped, impatient. “Am I doing something wrong?”
He moved to stand behind her and put his hands on her waist.
“Cade,” she said, her voice flat, “now is not the time to—”
“I’m showing you how to stand,” he growled.
“Oh.”
He shook his head and took a calming breath. “What’s your target?”
She paused before answering. “I don’t know.”
Somehow, that seemed typical.
“Aim for that hunk of wood over there.” He pointed out across the gently blowing grass to a dried up stump in the ground.
“All right.” Lynne nodded, raised the gun, and a heartbeat later the cylinder clicked as she pressed the trigger.
“Wait!”
“What?” she echoed, frustrated.
“Land sakes, Lynne. You’re the jumpiest person I’ve ever taught to fire a gun.”
She twisted to peer over her shoulder at him, brow set in a frown. “Have you taught many people to shoot?”
“No. Now turn your body to the side to line your arm up with your target.”
She gave him one more suspicious look before following instructions. She shifted to the side and raised her firing arm to point at the stump. He settled his hands on her waist, checked to be sure her hips were aligned, and smoothed his palms up her sides. She tensed. Honestly, she had every right to tense. He let his hands linger too long, and his thoughts with them. Her body was lithe and graceful, and he already knew what it could do at night. He leaned closer, breathing in the scent of her.
“Cade,” she said. “When do I fire the gun?”
He smiled against her hair. “As soon as you’ve taken aim.”
“Good.”
Standing so close to her was folly, but it meant he felt her body tighten as she pressed the trigger, sending a bullet flying with a bang. He felt the recoil that pushed her into him as well. Maybe teaching Lynne to shoot a gun wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
That thought lasted for all of three seconds before Lynne drew in a breath and fired the gun again. Then again and again. Cade jerked back, looking ahead to the stump and the ruffled prairie grass. Lynne fired the last bullet in the cylinder. This time Cade saw a puff of dirt blossom well left of her target.
“Blast,” she shouted. “I missed. Load the revolver so I can try again.”
It took Cade several moments of wide-eyed blinking to really hear her request. Lynne missed the stump she was aiming for, but she’d made enough noise to send the herd of oxen right beside them into frightened lowing. Two or three had bolted, and in the process run into a group that was grazing. The fear of those few was caught by the rest, and they all started running flat out across the grass.
“Uh, Lynne, I think you’d better give that gun back to me,” Cade said.
The oxen weren’t the only ones who were upset. To the other side, men by the wagons were jumping up from what they were doing and shouting as they watched their livestock go tearing across the prairie. Several grabbed their shotguns and leapt for their horses as more and more of the usually gentle oxen raised up a chorus of cries and bolted. A dozen other farmers went charging after them, calling, “Stampede!”
“Oh dear,” Lynne murmured, her face gone red. She clapped a hand to her mouth, and when Cade took the gun away from her, she didn’t resist.
“This was my fault,” he said, already searching for a way he could help wrangle the oxen and bring them back.
His heart sank further when Pete Evans came charging out toward them on foot, his expression as black as the skies had been before the tornado.
“What in the hell are you doing?” he shouted as he approached them.
Cade rushed to take responsibility before Lynne could dig the hole any deeper. “I was teaching Lynne to fire a revolver so that she could protect herself from whoever is trying to hurt her.”
If Pete had a lick of sympathy for her plight, it didn’t show.
“Those oxen are our transportation,” he raged. “They’re the only source of income some of these folks are going to have once they reach Oregon or Denver City. It could take all day to round them up and settle them, a day those men could have spent with their families. Now they’ll have to work on keeping them calm once they get back.”
“No harm was meant, Pete.” Cade did his best to soothe the situation.
His best wasn’t good enough. “I’ve dealt with some strange trains before, but this one beats all. I’m not sure that I care what dangers you’re in at this point, Miss Tremaine. You’re turning into as big a menace as the miners.”
“I….” Lynne started to either defend herself or apologize. Cade wasn’t sure. She didn’t have the chance.
Shots rang out from the wagons. From where Cade was standing, it looked as though a fight had broken out amongst a group of the miners. Half the decent men in their wagon train had mounted up to chase after the oxen and most of the miners were now throwing punches. Another shot rang out and was quickly followed by shouts and screams from the ladies. Pete swore so fiercely that Lynne yelped.
“You keep her out of trouble,” Pete said as he started back toward the wagons. “No ifs, ands, or buts about it from now on. If you can’t get her to behave, I’m leaving her behind.”
This time Lynne’s reaction wasn’t so much indignation as stark shock. Her mouth hung open and bright pink spots formed on her cheeks.
“He can’t do that, can he?” she asked.
As much as Cade wanted to answer otherwise, he couldn’t. “Oh, I think he can and I’m pretty sure he would.”
What had started out as a pleasant Sunday quickly turned into a disaster. It had taken the better part of the next three hours for every able-bodied man to round up the frightened oxen. Ben was called on to help, which meant that she had to take over hunting for buffalo chips. She resented Cade when he directed her to take Ben’s place, but in the end it was a relief to be able to hide from the ruckus of the wagon camp as the miners were chastised.
By the time she finished scouring the prairie for the disgusting, hardened chips and carried a heavy basket back to her wagon, the mood of the camp had gone from angry to quiet seething.
“I want everybody to listen up,” Mr. Evans said as he marched through the circle of wagons, drawing everyone’s attention to the center as he came to stop there. “I’ve had enough of the brawling and the undisciplined behavior that has plagued this train since we set out from Independence.”
It was no flight of Lynne’s imagination that Mr. Evans looked right at her as he said the last. Cade—who had gone to help round up the oxen, but hadn’t strayed more than ten feet from her since getting back—cleared his throat behind her.
“I’m done with it, do you hear?” Mr. Evans went on. “I know some of you are only going as far as Denver City, and we’re only a couple of weeks away, but so help me God, if things continue like this, you’re all going to Denver City and not Oregon, whether you like it or not.”
A murmur of resentment spread through the farmers and families who had staked their lives on building anew in Oregon. Lynne noticed Emma Sutton’s father, sister, and grandmother looking particularly anxious. Emma and her mother thought they were going to Oregon. If they ended up in Denver City, it could take months, maybe a year, for them to find each other again. Worse still, Emma’s sister, Alice, shot Lynne a nasty look, as though it was all her fault.
“I’m tired of breaking up drunken fights among you all,” Mr. Evans continued, facing the miners. “From now on, no booze and no gambling.”
A volley of protest rose up from the miners. It was quickly stifled when Mr. Evans took three steps in their direction, his e
yes blazing with anger and frustration. The miners quieted down, but their grumbling and seething continued.
“I’m splitting you lot up,” he said.
“What’d’ya mean?” one of the miners asked.
“You’re a menace when you’re all grouped together, getting into trouble. Let’s see how you do when you’re in the company of decent families. I’m placing each of you with a different wagon.”
Lynne raised her brow, more curious than alarmed, as Mr. Evans began to divide the miners and send them off to join new wagons.
“Can he do that?” she asked Cade.
“Pete’s the trail boss.” Cade shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the gesture. “He can do whatever he likes. It’s his wagon train.”
“Yes, but he wouldn’t actually make any of the good families in the train put up with any of those horrible men, would he?”
Cade nodded across the center clearing to the curve of parked wagons. “See for yourself.”
Sure enough, the cluster of miners in the center of the camp with Mr. Evans was dwindling as each one was sent off to join one of the frowning, anxious families. Lynne twisted to argue the point with Cade and caught sight of Ben scowling in the driver’s seat of her wagon. He looked like he might murder the miners and Mr. Evans both if anyone was sent their way. Lynne couldn’t say she blamed them.
“He’s not planning to send one of them over to us, is he?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Cade said, rubbing his stubbly chin.
For once, Lynne was relieved that he was right. The miners were all sent elsewhere, not a one to them. Her relief was short-lived, though. When he was done with the miners, Mr. Evans made his way over to them.
“I’m telling you again,” he said to Cade without greeting either him or Lynne. “I don’t want to have any more trouble from her or you, or I’m leaving you behind.” To Lynne he said, “Act like the lady you are or find your own way to Denver City.”
Lynne was too cowed to protest, even when Mr. Evans walked off without so much as a ‘by your leave.’
“You heard the man,” Cade said when she turned to face him.
It took her a moment to catch up to his comment. “You’re going to let him address me like that?”
“Yep.” Cade nodded. “And so are you.”
Indignation flared through her and she stood straighter, chin tilted up, fists on her hips. “I am not in the habit of letting anyone speak to me as though I am a disobedient child who should be sent to bed without supper.”
Cade let out a breath and faced her, crossing her arms. “Then you need to stop acting like it.”
Lynne’s jaw dropped, but before she could tell him just what she thought of a comment like that, he rode over her.
“I don’t know what’s happened to the proud woman I set out from Independence sworn to protect. Maybe it’s my fault that she’s fallen by the wayside, only to be replaced by this foolish, defiant, wild thing.”
“Foolish?” Lynne balked. Under her indignation, she rather liked the thought of being defiant and wild. It didn’t help her cause at all, though.
“Lynne.” Cade dropped his arms and leveled a hard look at her. “I understand your pride. Trust me, I do. But temper it with sense, for a change.”
“Sense?” She blinked. The tightness coiling in her chest and stomach at Cade’s expression was strange. She should be far more furious than she was. Instead, that look made her feel… safe. “The kind of sense that asks a proud woman, as you say, to sleep under a wagon with him?” Although at that moment, she was more than willing to consider it. The sterner he was, the more the butterflies in her stomach wanted to take flight.
“From now on,” he said, taking a step toward her, “you’re going to keep yourself clean and respectable.”
“When have you ever known me to be dirty?”
“You’re going to either ride like a lady or walk like one and never far from my side.”
“If you can keep me there.”
“And you are not going to carry that gun.” He nodded to the Cooper, still resting in the holster attached to the belt slung over her hips.
She closed both of her hands defensively over the handle. It wasn’t loaded now, but no one else knew that.
“No,” she said. “I’m keeping the gun with me.”
He held out his hand. “Give it back.”
She shifted in her spot. Through all the long journey, even during the times that he had put his foot down, he had never seemed so firm. Safe or not, a large part of her itched to rebel against the frown he wore.
“Who do you think you are?” she snapped. “Who?”
He took another step closer to her. She expected him to rage and rail and tell her he was sworn to protect her. Instead, his voice was soft when he said, “I’m a man who loves a woman and doesn’t want to see any harm come to her of any kind.”
A hot flush flooded Lynne from head to toe. She swallowed, but her mouth was dry and her heart beat so hard she thought it might bruise her ribs. He loved her. It didn’t seem possible, like a dream. But what kind of dream?
“Hand over the gun,” he said, brooking no argument, but not trying to provoke one either.
Lynne’s hands tightened on the handle. She had to protect herself somehow. The gun had seemed like the best way to do that. Now she wasn’t so sure. A gun wasn’t going to protect her against the fear that was slowly spreading from her chest, out through the rest of her.
It was fear too. A whole new kind of fear. He loved her.
“Lynne,” he all but whispered. “The gun.”
Heart beating in her ears, she drew the Cooper from its holster and handed it across to him. It took all of her effort to keep her hands from shaking. As he took the gun, their hands brushed. The warmth of his fingers and the slight roughness of his callouses sent spikes of longing through her.
“There. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased her, mouth slipping into a grin that made the butterflies in her stomach go mad with longing and swoop down into her core.
The sensation was only made worse as Cade winked, then pivoted and marched away from her to the back of the wagon. He’d walked away this time, not her. He had control. The fear that she had only barely kept at bay began to leak around the cracks in the armor she’d fought so hard to build. Cade loved her. What was she going to do now?
Chapter Twelve
Lynne spent the remainder of their supposed day of rest wandering around in a daze. She tried to keep her mind off of things by doing a thousand little chores, but couldn’t push the truth from her heart. Cade loved her. How? They’d only known each other for a few weeks. The trail had been intense from the beginning and emotions had been high, but it was still only a short time.
But they had spent that night together. That beautiful night which was a complete mistake. Or was it? If he loved her, that didn’t make it such a sin, did it? Maybe, but only if she loved him in return. And that was the most frightening aspect of all. It was one thing for Cade to fall in love with her over a few short weeks, but it was an entirely different thing for her to have given her heart away so easily in such a short period of time.
“If you’re done with the stew, I’ll put a lid on it and save it for lunch tomorrow.”
“What? Oh.” Cade’s statement shook her out of her increasingly desperate thoughts as they sat finishing supper by their fire that night. “Yes, that would be fine.”
“Ben?” he offered to the young man who sat sullenly with them.
Ben shook his head and glared off across the circled wagons at the other families. The entire camp was roiling with upset and mistrust. Mr. Evans’s idea to split the unruly miners between peaceable families to keep them from further fights had everyone quiet and grumpy. The cheerful noises of women talking and children playing were all silenced. Lynne thought she could hear a few quiet conversations here and there. Callie was whispering away with her new husband John, but as newlyweds, they h
adn’t been saddled with one of the miners.
Callie and John. They seemed to be getting along so well just a few weeks after their trail marriage. Maybe if they could find love with each other so swiftly and under the worst of circumstances, she and Cade….
No. She shook her head as though she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t in love with Cade. Sure, he was handsome with his wind-blown hair and sun-kissed skin and the sparkle that played in his eyes when he teased her. He was kind, to the other people in their wagon train who he helped when they needed it and, if she was being honest, to her. And he cared for her. He was trying to keep her safe. He loved her.
“Lynne,” he laughed when he caught her staring at him. “What is that look for?”
“What? I….” She had no idea how to answer and no way to defend herself. “I hear we’ll be reaching the crossing with the South Platte river soon.”
The corner of Cade’s mouth pulled up in a lazy grin. He knew she had scrambled for her reply, that it wasn’t what she intended to say at all. He knew she was struggling with her own feelings.
“Before all the mess this morning, Pete was telling me the crossing was only a couple days off.” He nodded and stood to collect their supper dishes. “The wagon train will be splitting up on the other side, and Hank Gentry, Pete’s assistant, will be taking us the rest of the way to Denver City while Pete goes on to Oregon.”
“Oh, I see.” Lynne got up as well and took the supper dishes from Cade to wash them. Anything to put her in a position where she would have something to do besides stare at Cade and wonder.
“The way from the crossing to Denver City is pretty straightforward,” Cade went on. “We shouldn’t have too many problems from here on out, except the miners, and we should be home soon.”
“Home,” Lynne repeated. But what then? Cade hadn’t told her outright that he loved her. Would he make a declaration or some sort or was he about to leave her and all of her tender, painful longing behind him? What did she even want him to do? They would be neighbors, one way or another. He worked for her uncle. The trail might be ending, but her bittersweet heartache over Cade could just be beginning.
