by Merry Farmer
“But—”
He stopped her with another kiss. “It’s too big a risk.”
“This entire journey is too big a risk,” Lynne argued. Deep in her gut, fear was trying to push its way up through the excitement of taking matters into her own hands. Fear and anger. “My Papa should have known. He shouldn’t have sent me away at all. But,” she charged on before Cade could protest, “but I’m so glad he did.”
She took his hands and squeezed them.
“I was so angry over being sent away at first, but now I can’t wait to start our new life together. Together, you and I. This wagon train and this trail are the best things that have ever happened to me. I won’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of the life we’re about to have, even if it puts me in just a little danger. I love you.”
Cade’s expression softened as he studied her face. He lowered his eyes to stare at her lips, even as his own split into a smile.
“Fearless,” he said. “For better or for worse, you’re fearless.”
“For richer or for poorer too,” she added, bold enough to wink at him. “’Til death do us part. Afraid of nothing as long as we have each other.”
His smile bloomed to fullness and he swooped in to kiss her one more time. This time his arms closed around her, pulling her tight and holding her against his beating heart. She hugged him in return and kissed him back with a passion that words could never describe.
“All right,” he said when they came up for breath. “I’ll give this plan of yours a try.”
Lynne was walking on clouds for the next hour as they strolled around the countryside, away from the wagon train. The trick for them was to find a spot far enough away from the wagons that Cade and whoever he was able to find to come with him would look like they had gone. They couldn’t be seen looping back or hiding in the bushes. But they also needed to find a spot close enough to the lines of wagons so that she wasn’t attacked along the way.
In the end the only likely spot was a stand of trees and scrub bushes about half a mile from the wagons, too far in Cade’s opinion, with a hill that dipped away about fifty yards behind that. Cade and his back-up would ride over the hill, but then stop, leave their horses, and circle back around through the tall grass to wait in the trees. She would have rather had a gun with her, but Cade continued to insist it would have been more dangerous than not for her to carry one.
After lunch, she and Cade joined the group of people gathered around Pete Evans, waiting for instructions on how to find their missing friends.
“They can’t have gotten far,” Mr. Evans said, striding up the line of men who had volunteered to form search parties. “They headed off in that direction at a full gallop,” he pointed to the horizon where Lynne and Cade had found a hiding spot to catch their Briscoe Boy, “but they couldn’t have gotten far in that rain last night. We’re near Colorado now and the terrain gets hillier and more forested the farther you go. If they went far enough, they’ll be in the woods, so be careful.”
Lynne watched the man with an unexpected spark of admiration. He walked and talked like a soldier. She wondered if he had been one, was sure he had at some point.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” he went on. “I don’t know why they rode off in the first place, but I got a bad feeling that we’re dealing with duplicitous thieves here and not just folks who decided to run off and get lost.”
“Yessir,” one of the men who had volunteered to search said.
“All right. I want you in groups of three. Harold, you go with Jack and Morton.”
As Mr. Evans divided the men into groups, Lynne turned to Cade, squeezing his hand. As soon as he was grouped with two other men, he gave her one last reassuring smile, then let go and turned to his new companions.
“Boys, I have a proposition for you,” he said to them as they walked off toward their horses.
Lynne drew in a deep breath, praying that the other two would help them with their plan, praying that their plan would work in the first place. It was a terrible risk, she knew, but it was something she needed to do if she was ever going to escape from the specter of the Briscoe Boys.
When the men mounted up and rode off, Lynne waved goodbye to them and wished them good luck along with all the other women. As soon as they were tiny specks in the distance, riding over hills, she turned to the women and said, “I think I might take a walk later to stretch my legs.”
“I would have thought your legs were stretched enough already,” one of the women, Lynne didn’t see which one, replied behind her. “In the way certain kinds of women would stretch theirs.”
The nasty comment was followed by a round of snorts and tittering laughter. Lynne paid it no mind. Let them laugh all they wanted. They didn’t know the kind of joy she felt in Cade’s arms or the promises he’d made to her. Besides, if they made a show of shunning her, it could only help her cause.
“I’m going for a walk, Mrs. Weingarten,” she told her friend as she passed her wagon. The remnants of the failed tea party had been cleaned up for the most part, and Mrs. Weingarten and her family were hard at work packing up their wagon so they could continue on to Oregon.
“You be careful, dear,” Mrs. Weingarten called after her, genuine worry in her voice. She had grown close to Callie after her marriage, especially since Emma had stayed behind.
“I will,” Lynne promised her. She paused. “I’m sure they’ll find Callie and John and everything will be fine.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Mrs. Weingarten gave her a strained smile and returned to her work.
Lynne walked on, away from the two lines of wagons and off to her own. The grass was still damp from the rain that had poured down the previous evening. It dragged at her skirts, seeping in through the cracks in her trail-worn boots and soaking her stockings. When she made it to her wagon, she spent several long minutes looking for dry socks and making a show of changing them and putting her boots back on.
“I want to be prepared for my walk,” she told a pair of miners who had strayed closer to the river where her wagon was parked.
“I s’pose so,” one of them said, then walked on, paying her no mind.
She kept her smile bright and even, though on the inside her heart was racing. Soon. She and Cade would bring an end to this Briscoe Boy’s threats soon. If only a few more people knew she was about to be on her own, he would show himself.
Lynne finished with her boots and scooted around to the back of the wagon. Cade would be waiting for her. She trusted him to protect her, but it wouldn’t hurt to bring a little protection herself. One by one, she began searching the crates and boxes closest to the back of the wagon for a spare gun, a knife, anything she could use if it came down to it.
“What’cha lookin’ for?”
She gasped and pivoted to face Ben as he approached her. At some point he’d cleaned himself up a little. He wore a fresh shirt and a jacket that was too big for him. The hem hung down well past his waist, almost to his knees. He had combed his hair and generally looked like an overgrown child. Lynne pressed a hand to her chest to still her heart and let out an airy laugh.
“I’m going for a walk,” she told him and turned back to the wagon to resume her search.
“In the back of the wagon?”
She laughed. “No. I was hoping to find something to take with me in case of….” She paused, face flushing over coming so close to spilling her plans. Still, it was just Ben. “In case I run into whoever is trying to hurt me,” she finished.
“Like this?”
She twisted to peek over her shoulder. Ben held up a shiny silver pocket knife, a proud grin on his face. Lynne’s smile widened and she turned to face him fully.
“Yes, exactly like that. Where did you find such a pretty thing?”
Ben folded the blade back into the handle and passed it to her, his grin turning sly. “Got it from my brother,” he said.
“It’s lovely. Oh, I see it has a ‘B’ inscribed on it. On both si
des.”
“Yes, ma’am, it does.”
Lynne gave the knife one final glance, then handed it back to him.
Ben refused to take it. “It’s for you,” he said, grin even wider. “Take a good look at it. Might be it’s been for you this whole time.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t. It was from your brother.” She forced him to take it back.
Ben scowled and thrust the knife in his pocket.
“Well, I’ll just be off on my walk now,” she said, starting away from her wagon. “If anybody comes looking for me, you can tell them I’ve just wandered off that way, toward that hill to see what’s on the other side.”
She pointed across the drying prairie grass to the hill where Cade and his group had disappeared, and the stand of trees nearby. With a final smile for Ben, she started off toward it with long, purposeful strides.
“Why don’t I come with you?” Ben caught up and matched her stride.
Lynne’s confidence faltered and she slowed her steps.
“Well, I… I thought I’d walk by myself.” If Ben was with her, it could scare her would-be killer off. He might not want to go after her when there was a witness around.
“It’s dangerous out there,” Ben told her. He picked up his pace and she was forced to speed up to stay close to him.
“Yes, it is, but….”
Then again, Ben was just a boy. A grown murderer wouldn’t be deterred by a fifteen-year-old boy. And when the time came, maybe Cade could use some help.
“I suppose a little company would be nice,” she said, relaxing and smiling at him.
They walked on away from the lines of wagons and out into the vast open land. It was hillier here than it had been on most of their journey since Ft. Kearny, but not by much. Far in the distance, Lynne could see steeper hills and thicker trees, but nothing quite like mountains yet. Unless the faint, dark outlines she saw on the horizon were mountains shrouded by summer haze.
“Have you ever been out West?” she asked Ben as they walked on.
“No, ma’am,” he answered, hands in the deep pockets of his overlarge jacket.
She glanced from the horizon to Ben. His grin was gone, replaced by a nervous twitch as he looked right and left. It was sweet of him to be so concerned for her safety.
“You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever truly sat down with you and asked you about yourself,” she said. “I don’t even know where you’re from.”
“I’m from Missouri,” he answered.
A smile touched the corner of Lynne’s lips. “Missouri is a rather large state. What part are you from?”
“St. Louis County,” Ben said.
“Oh? That’s where I’m from too.” Her smile grew. “I can’t imagine why we’ve never run into each other before setting out on the trail.”
“Maybe we have.”
“Maybe.” Of course, chances were if they had, it had been in such a capacity that she was far above him. In fact, if it weren’t for the trail, they may never have spoken.
They continued to walk. The stand of trees was still several yards ahead. She hadn’t noticed Cade come back over the hill to hide there, but it may have been just as well. If she hadn’t seen him, whoever could be stalking her likely hadn’t seen him either. She checked over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her.
Not a soul. The wagons of their train now seemed small and insignificant against the backdrop of the prairie and the Platte. Dozens of people were buzzing around them, getting ready to move out, but no one seemed to be paying her any mind. Of all things, she felt disappointed.
She laughed at herself and shook her head. Disappointed because she wasn’t being followed by a murderer.
She turned her attention back to Ben. His hands were still deep in his pockets, rummaging. “Do you have any family?” she asked him.
He twitched, his hands going still. “Yes, ma’am. I got a large family. Lots of brothers.”
“That must be nice. I have two brothers myself. They’re both fighting for the Union now.”
“I lost two brothers,” Ben went on, a harder edge in his voice.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lynne lowered her voice and her eyes.
“No you aren’t,” he grumbled.
Lynne blinked. “I… yes, I am. It must be a terrible thing to lose a brother.”
“It is,” he said. “It surely is.”
They were still several yards away from the stand of trees, but Ben veered to the side, heading for a shorter thicket of bushes where a side creek ran toward the South Platte. Lynne hesitated before jogging to catch up with him.
“I was hoping to go that way,” she said, praying her voice wouldn’t waver and give her purpose away. “Closer to the hill.”
“Here’s close enough,” Ben snapped. He sounded for all the world like he was angry with her.
“I’m sorry that I brought up your brothers,” she said as they neared the bushes. “It must be hard to—”
Without warning, he lashed out and grabbed her wrist. Before she could so much as gasp, Ben twisted her arm behind her back until it hurt. He wrapped his other arm around her, bringing his hand, and more importantly, his knife to her throat. The cold, sharp metal dug into the soft skin of her throat.
“I have brothers, all right,” he growled into her ear, dragging her farther behind the bushes. “Your old man hung two of them.”
A feeble cry escaped from Lynne’s lungs as she realized the bushes were just high enough to conceal them from the rest of the wagon train. Her knees went weak as fear slammed into her and she stumbled. Ben’s knife nicked her skin, drawing blood below her bandage.
“No one messes with the Briscoe Boys,” Ben shouted. He jostled her in his arms, still holding the knife to her throat. “At least no one who gets away with it.”
Frantic, Lynne searched until she could see the hill and the trees where Cade was supposed to be hidden. The bush blocked most of her sight, but she could make out at least some of the spot where Cade should be. She didn’t see him there.
She was a fool, an utter fool for separating herself from him.
“You’re only fifteen,” she wailed, scrambling for some way to talk him out of violence.
“My brother Bob was fourteen when he killed his first man,” Ben told her, digging the knife deeper against her skin. “Your father hung him before he was twenty-four.”
He was stalling. Lynne could feel it. If he was as cold-blooded as his brother, he would have just slit her throat and been done with it. She wrestled to keep her wits about her.
“But you’re not like him,” she panted. “You’ve been so helpful. You could have a career helping people.”
“Who says I want to help anybody?” He jerked her arm higher behind her back, causing her to cry out. “I was biding my time. You didn’t suspect nothin’ all those times I messed with your things.”
Of course. Ben was the only one who had access to her hope chest. They’d trusted him.
Where was Cade? Even if he had gone to the trees like they’d planned, he should still be able to rescue her. If he was looking in the right direction.
“But… but you’re so talented with oxen. You could be a farmer or—”
“Who wants to be some stupid old farmer?” he growled, though his voice squeaked all the same. “Folks’ll look up to me. They’ll see I’m somebody.”
“Some… somebody to fear?” And she did. Heaven help her, but she was afraid.
“Folks don’t mess with people if they’re afraid of them.”
Ben’s words were strong, but still he only held the knife to her throat and squeezed her arm. He wasn’t finishing the job. Lynne’s mind raced. He hadn’t finished the job the night he’d snuck up on her and cut her. There might be hope. She could hear his hissing breath behind her, feel the heat of his body. If she could just twist out of his grasp.
“Stop! Let her go!”
At last, Cade’s shout split through the tens
e stand-off.
“Cade!” Lynne shouted from the bottom of her gut. “Help!”
She heard his footsteps before Ben swung her around to face him. Cade charged toward him, gun drawn and pointed. The two other men who had ridden out with him were several yards behind but closing fast.
“I said let her go!” Cade demanded.
“You wouldn’t shoot,” Ben challenged him.
He was right. The way Ben held her, she acted as a shield. Any shots that Cade fired could hit her. Ben lowered his knife, thrusting his hand into his deep pocket. For half a second Lynne sighed in relief. She could free herself if she could wrench out of his grasp.
Her hopes were dashed a heartbeat later when Ben drew a revolver from his pocket. He held it to her head, pulling the trigger enough that she heard it cock with a sharp click.
“Let her go!” Cade shouted, desperate now.
Ben ignored him. “Drop the gun or I’ll shoot.”
“No!” Lynne cried, breathless. “Cade, don’t!”
It was too late. Cade took his finger off the trigger and squatted to lower his revolver to the ground. He straightened, arms still held out. “Let her go,” he pleaded.
Ben laughed and squeezed Lynne hard enough to push the air from her lungs. “You think I’d just let her go? After what her old man did to my family?”
The other two men who had ridden out with Cade came stumbling to a stop beside him, guns raised.
“Drop your weapons,” Cade told them. “Drop them or he’ll kill her.”
The two men hesitated. They were slower to let go of their guns, but they must have seen the predicament they were in.
“Her family is responsible for killing mine,” Ben raged on. “And even the Bible says an eye for an eye. Two of my brothers died, so two of that judge’s kin should die.”
“Your brothers were criminals,” Cade said.
Lynne started to shake her head to warn him not to upset Ben, but one half shake and she bumped against the cold metal of Ben’s gun barrel.
Cade’s eyes bored into hers as he went on. “Criminals get what they deserve. You’re in trouble now, boy, but not so much that you can’t serve your time and move on with your life.”
