“A part of me died with Franklin,” she whispered, and stepped up to him. “But it didn’t keep me from shutting out the people who still care about me.”
There was a long pause. “I failed my family.”
“Is that why you’re so closed off to everyone? Because you’re afraid you might fail them again?”
She reached her hand up to touch his shoulder. His muscles remained rigid beneath her touch. Her understanding of Ethan deepened. The strain in his voice was a clear indication that he’d never talked to anyone about his turmoil before. Neither had she, but her sorrow hadn’t lasted as long as his. Anna’s heart warmed as he’d exposed his vulnerable side.
Ethan’s neck and jaw looked harder than stone. His shoulders tightened even more.
“You don’t know anything about it,” he said, the tone of his voice low and deadly calm, belying his rigid posture.
The flames from the campfire blazed in his eyes as he turned his head to look at her standing next to him. He pulled away from her and kicked at some dirt on the ground. He stepped around her, staring at the fire. Before she could say she was sorry for her words, he spun on his heels to look her way again.
“I’ll make sure the horses are secured and I’ll kill the fire. Best get some rest, Anna. Tomorrow we’ll be at Fort Hall.”
He moved toward the trees where he’d picketed the horses earlier. “Supper was good,” he added as he walked away, leaving Anna to stare into the darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
Nothing about the white adobe structure in the distance had changed since the last time Ethan had been to Fort Hall several years ago. Hundreds of old army carts and equipment littered the countryside, decaying in the harsh elements. He or his brothers usually came later in the season to collect supplies for the winter, after most of the travelers heading west had moved through. This time, dozens of covered wagons camped along the creek that flowed past the old army outpost.
Ethan gripped his horse’s reins tighter when an unexpected jolt ripped through his heart. With several wagon outfits here, it shouldn’t be a problem to find a group who’d take Anna with them. He shifted in the saddle. Why did that thought bother him? This was the reason they were here – to send her off to Oregon.
His eyes scanned the distance while he honed in on the sounds of the wagon behind him. He reined his horse to a stop, waiting for Anna to catch up. Even though he should have offered to drive the rig, he’d ridden ahead for most of the morning to be alone with his thoughts.
He’d caught her rubbing at her arms on multiple occasions, but throughout the entire week she’d never complained that she was sore. The one time he had offered to drive the mules, she’d declined, and told him she needed to build her strength for the long trek to Oregon.
Ethan stared off into the distance, pushing his hat back on his head. He’d completely misjudged Anna Porter. For all the months he’d known her, he’d considered her too soft and weak-minded to live in this rugged environment, so unlike her friend, Cora.
He’d certainly changed his mind about her over the last month, and even more so in the last week. Anna wasn’t weak, either in body or spirit. A slow smile spread across his face. He hadn’t changed his mind that she was soft, however. In fact, he’d found out firsthand last night exactly how soft she was when he’d held her in his arms.
Ethan cursed under his breath. He rubbed at his tired eyes. He’d lain awake all night, thinking about the woman and how it had felt holding her, and making the mistake of kissing her. If thoughts of her tender touch on his bruised and battered skin hadn’t been enough to torment him over the weeks, now he’d crossed the line into territory that might be impossible to get out of.
Then she’d had the gall to talk to him about his past. He’d never discussed with anyone how his folks had died, or the guilt he kept bottled up inside. Anna was only partially right about him. He was afraid of getting hurt again like she’d said, but it was more than that. Fear of letting down the people he loved kept him from forming attachments, along with avoiding the pain of loss.
His father had told him that fateful day that he was old enough to take more responsibility for his actions, and Ethan hadn’t listened. He’d simply dismissed his father’s advice as the ramblings of someone who wanted to keep a tight hold on him.
“It’s time you set aside your impulsive foolishness, Ethan, and take some responsibility, before someone gets hurt.” His father’s voice echoed in his mind.
“How are you going to get hurt if I go off hunting?” Ethan had retorted. “For weeks, we’ve done nothing but travel, and I’m getting weary of riding along next to the wagon, or looking after my brothers. As you’ve said, I’m old enough. I’m going hunting, while you look after your children instead of having me do it. I ain’t their pa.”
His father had shaken his head. “It’s not me I worry about, Son, but you. Someday you’ll understand, and you’ll do right by the ones you love and think of them before yourself.”
“I’m done listening to you. For once, I’m going to make up my own mind.” Taking his horse, he’d stormed off.
Those had been his last words to his folks. The day his father predicted had come sooner than anyone could have foreseen. Ethan squeezed his hand around the reins. He’d done the sensible thing from that day on, but it had been too late. He’d learned his lesson, but at what cost? While his rigid ways had made his brothers see him in an unfavorable light, he’d always put responsibility first. Right now, the responsible thing was to get Anna safely on a wagon train to Oregon rather than letting the call of his heart tell him she was better off with him.
The team of mules pulled up alongside his horse, and Ethan turned his head to look at Anna sitting in her usual spot on the driver’s seat. She leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. When the wagon came to a full stop, she straightened, and pushed her hand into her lower back.
She hadn’t said much that morning about what had happened the night before, or about their conversation. She still mourned the man she would have married, and it was just as well. Knowing that made it easier to let her go.
“It looks busier than when I was here last year,” Anna called with a hesitant smile, nudging her chin toward the outpost.
“This is the right time of year when folks stop to rest before continuing on. Either here or Fort Bridger.”
Anna laughed. Ethan stared at her. Her face was radiant when she looked happy, the way she did now. A knot formed in his gut, twisting it almost painfully.
“We were supposed to go to Fort Bridger, but we got lost after we couldn’t keep up with our outfit Cora insisted on following last year.” Her smile faded, and she looked directly at him. “Cora wouldn’t have met Nathaniel, and who knows if we would have made it all the way to Oregon.”
“She did a foolish thing,” Ethan grumbled.
“She did what she thought was right for her family,” Anna defended. “Sometimes that requires taking risks.”
Ethan kept his mouth shut. Experience had taught him differently. Time to steer away from bringing family into the discussion.
“How do you plan on getting to Oregon?” The question had nagged him for some time, yet he chided himself for even asking it. His job was to deliver her to Fort Hall, nothing more.
“I’m confident that someone will be willing to take me along. Like Cora said, I have the wagon and a good team of mules. That has to account for something.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
Did he really hope that she’d ask him to take her back to Harley’s Hole if she couldn’t find an outfit that would let her join up with them?
“Last year, our biggest obstacle was that we were unmarried women.” Anna raised her chin, but she didn’t make eye contact. “If I have to marry someone in order to be allowed to go, then that’s what I’ll do. As long as it’s someone who has the same goals as I do.”
Ethan wiped a hand across his face. Would she really consider marrying a st
ranger when she still mourned her fiancé?
“And what are those?”
Anna glanced at him. She evaluated his face for a moment, as if she was looking for something before answering. “He should be someone who is ready to leave the past behind and wants to make a fresh start, work hard, and values family.”
Well, that certainly excluded him on at least one count. The past would always be with him, and he didn’t need or want a family beyond his brothers. The saddle leather creaked when he shifted his weight. He nudged his chin toward the horizon.
“There should be a place to camp along the creek. Once we’re set up, we can look around and see who’s there and willing to take you on.”
Ethan kneed his horse forward, but not before he caught the distinct glimpse of disappointment in Anna’s eyes.
Ethan led Anna among the many wagons camped along the creek. After securing their own spot, he’d picketed the mules and his horse, and promised a young boy a penny to keep an eye on the animals for him. Not knowing any of the other people who were encamped here, he didn’t trust that the animals were safe without someone watching them, but he wasn’t going to let Anna wander around alone, either. At least the boy could alert the people around him if someone came into this camp.
“We’ll ask around about any of the outfits while we’re at the trading post getting supplies. See if any of them suit you.”
Ethan gripped his rifle, his eyes in constant motion as he surveyed his surroundings. It had been a while since he’d mingled with this many people. Women in various camps washed clothes by the creek or tended cooking fires, while men stood around talking and making repairs to their wagons.
Several people looked up from what they were doing to watch as he and Anna walked past them. Wide-eyed, her eyes darted around. She was definitely nervous. Perhaps she was having second thoughts about going to Oregon, now that she was here at the fort. Why did that thought lighten his chest? If she’d changed her mind, he’d break camp immediately and take her back to Harley’s Hole.
Ethan stopped once they were past most of the camped wagons and before reaching the gate. The trading post was just beyond the walls.
“You still want to go through with this?” he asked, facing her.
Anna stared up at him in surprise. Or was that a hopeful look she tossed at him?
“Through with what? Of course I still want to go to Oregon. Where else would I go?” Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, belying the confidence she tried to convey.
“You don’t have to go to Oregon, Anna. You could have returned to Ohio.” Where had that thought come from? Ethan kicked himself mentally, but it was too late to backtrack on his words. Ohio seemed safer for her than Oregon. At least she’d be somewhere that was familiar to her.
You could ask her to come back to Harley’s Hole. You could keep her safe there.
No. He didn’t want to keep her safe. He shook his head in frustration as his thoughts got in the way of each other. Yes, of course he wanted to keep her safe, but hadn’t he concluded a long time ago that she was safer somewhere other than in the wilderness? Why, then, did he want to take her back to Harley’s Hole?
Anna gave a short laugh. “I don’t want to return to Ohio. There’s nothing but memories for me there. Besides, there’s no one heading east as far as I know.”
“Joseph Walker was heading east. He was going all the way to Boston. You could have gone with him, but it’s too late now. He left weeks ago.”
Ethan looked up when two men started shouting and arguing a short distance away. Several Indians milled about, trying to peddle their wares to some of the emigrants outside the gate. When one approached, Ethan stared at him. Making eye contact with Ethan, the Indian clearly read the unspoken message to stay away, and he backed off. Ethan tensed. Anna didn’t belong here among these people, or among a bunch of strangers heading west. Harley’s Hole suddenly seemed like the safest place for her.
“I heard Joseph was heading to look for a girl who’s presumed to be dead?” Anna’s brows rose, looking up at him. Her forehead wrinkled.
Ethan refocused his attention on her and the conversation he’d started.
“I only heard part of the story from Harley and Daniel. They’re always full of tales about the old days, as they call it, but apparently the girl’s French father and Indian mother were killed, and a mutual friend took the little girl and escaped to Boston. Her Bannock grandfather thinks she’s alive and Joseph promised to find out and bring her back to him”.
“That’s a long way to travel to find out if a child is still alive.” Anna shook her head.
“She would be a grown woman now. Her folks died more than twenty years ago while fur trappers still sought their fortunes in the mountains.”
“Well, I hope Joseph finds her, or finds out what happened to her.” Anna took a step forward to head to the fort. Ethan followed, unable to delay talking to the trader any longer.
A man rushed past them from behind at that moment, bumping into Anna and nearly knocking her to the ground. Ethan’s hand reached out to steady her. He tucked her behind him and faced the man, who was dressed in greasy buckskins that were tattered and worn. He stopped to stare. Anna flinched against Ethan. She let out a quiet gasp.
The older woodsman’s face was unshaven and dirty, his fur cap drawn low over his head, like so many other men who frequented the trading post when they came out of the mountains. That wasn’t what made him stand out, however. One of his eyes was covered with a leather eye patch, giving him a gruesome appearance. With his good eye, he stared at Anna, a slight leer on his face.
He bowed his head slightly and pulled his fur hat dramatically from his head, exposing matted hair that hung to his shoulders.
“Beggin’ yore pardon, ma’am.” His insolent smile exposed rotten teeth. There was nothing in his tone that indicated his apology was sincere. Ethan stepped fully in front of Anna and faced the man.
“Next time, watch where you’re going,” Ethan warned, gripping his rifle in one hand. He met the man’s cold stare, as his one eye drifted to him, looking him over as if taking his measure. Ethan smirked and shot a quick look to the man’s hand, which twitched near the hilt of his knife hanging from his belt.
The older man was typical of so many of the mountain men who frequented the trading post. Former fur trappers who hadn’t left the mountains after the fur trade had died down more than a dozen years ago. Many had found a new purpose as scouts and hunters for the wagon trains that came through the territory, since they knew the trails, the terrain, and the Indians. This man was as rough and mean-looking as many of the men Ethan had met over the years.
“Meant no harm to yer missus,” the woodsman said, then moved past Ethan without a backward glance. Ethan stared after him until he disappeared into one of the buildings inside the fort, then turned his attention back on Anna.
“Are you all right?” He reached up to touch her arm. His eyes ran up and down her dress, as if the contact with the trapper might have damaged her in some way, like the fire that had burned her dress the evening before.
Anna shook her head. She offered a smile that left Ethan with a pounding heart. He dropped his hand that was touching her and gripped his rifle tighter. The urge to protect her and keep her safe washed over him like a creek overflowing its banks. No. He couldn’t allow his heart to take over his thinking. He wasn’t ready to risk more heartache in his life.
“No harm done,” she said. “I’m sure it was just an accident.”
Ethan shot another glance in the direction the man had gone. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” he said absently. “Let’s go see about those supplies at the trading post and if Stan Moray, the trader, knows any of the men leading the wagons. You stand a better chance of a wagon master letting you come along if he sees that you’re well-outfitted.”
The thought of Anna leaving on her own made his stomach churn again, especially after the encounter with that woodsman. Who would l
ook after her and protect her from men like that once she was on her way to Oregon? He worked the muscles in his jaw and mentally shook his head. It’s what she wanted to do, and it was best this way. He’d already started to care for her more than he wanted to admit.
Stan Moray, the trader, was haggling with an emigrant about the price of flour when Ethan led Anna into the building. The bearded man looked up, his eyes widening when he recognized Ethan. His gaze moved from him to Anna, then he returned his attention to his customer.
Ethan glanced around the store. As usual, prices for goods were extraordinarily high. Moray would bleed as much money out of the unfortunate travelers as he possibly could. The emigrant finally slapped some coins on the crude table made from planks of wood laid over a couple of barrels, and stomped from the store with his sack of flour.
“Ethan Wilder,” Moray called. “Ain’t it a little early for ya to be here? Woulda thought ta see one a yore brothers rather than you.” His eyes drifted to Anna. His beard twitched. “Seems to me yore brother Nate was in the company of a lady last season. Has old Harley got you boys hitched up now?”
Ethan scowled at the man. “The lady needs enough supplies to get her to Oregon, Moray. The usual staples and dry goods. And she’s not paying a penny more than what you’d charge me or my family.” He set his rifle on the counter and leaned forward to stare the trader in the eye.
“Sure, Ethan. A friend of yors is a friend o’mine an’ gets my special prices. Gotta charge them emigrants more, ya know. Gotta make a livin’ somehow.”
Ethan didn’t respond. Moray’s prices for the goods he sold to the emigrants passing through Fort Hall was downright robbery, but it wasn’t any of his business.
“Do you know anything about any of the outfits camped here?” Ethan glanced over his shoulder when a man walked into the store.
Moray shrugged. “Jes the usual types. Farmers lookin’ fer a better life or missionaries eager ta spread the gospel. Tired and sore o’ bein’ on the trail so long. Why ya askin’?”
Anna's Heart (Wilderness Brides Book 2) Page 12
