by Caryl McAdoo
Sue smiled down at the boy. “Guess we’ll have to give her a chance, don’t you think?”
He waved her off and ran ahead, then turned around and trotted backward. “It ain’t right. You always give in to her, Auntie.”
“I don’t like boys, Mama.”
Sue grinned at her daughter. “Well, no one said you had to, but Levi’s family. He’s not just a boy; he’s like your brother. You might get upset with him now and then, but you shouldn’t stop liking him. Anyway, how could you? You love him.”
Becky looked up from under her bonnet’s brim with a dreadful serious expression. “Well, he’s my cousin and not my brother. And he’s mean, too. Loving don’t mean you have to like.”
Sue sighed. “Doesn’t, Becky. It doesn’t mean.”
“Oh.” She looked up and giggled. “Sorry. Don’t tell Levi.”
Flicking the reins, Sue looked ahead. Her nephew ducked into the edge of the woods holding on to his hat. “Levi,” she called. “When your time’s over, you can take this wagon with Becky.”
He popped back into sight and nodded. “Sure.”
“I’d like to speak with Mister Buckmeyer.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he disappeared again.
“Where’s he going, Mama?”
“Oh, off exploring a little, I guess. You sure do ask a heap of questions.”
“It’s how I got so smart. Didn’t you know that?”
“I suppose.” She rode in silence a distance, and Sue appreciated hearing a crow call to its friends. “Do you know what I have in my pocket?”
“What? A surprise for me? Will I like it?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it.” She pulled out the wrapped tea cake Becky and Sophia had baked. “Break it in half, and we’ll share it.”
Her daughter broke it and handed the smaller half to her, but Sue didn’t say anything. “Thank you for sharing, Mama.”
“Thank you for using your manners, my sweet love.”
After eating her tea cake, Becky interlocked her fingers and twiddled her thumbs. “Are we almost to Jefferson yet?”
“No, dear. It will take many days to get there. Why don’t you practice your ABCs and your multiplication tables while we ride?”
“Where are we going to sleep? Did we bring beds?”
“Mister Henry has some soft furs he said we could sleep on. We’ll spread them under the wagon.”
Her inquisitive mind obviously—and finally—sated, the girl started saying the alphabet, giving a word that started with each letter. Sue studied the trail ahead. What a blessing that the wagon train had cleared it well. The sun almost peeked over the tops of the pines and oaks along the trace. Soon enough, the open prairie would give it a good opportunity to shine down bright and heat things up.
She could hardly wait for the cool weather to come again. First cold front should blow in by the time she headed back home with her pockets filled with coin. It was going to be so wonderful. The wagon bumped her hard again, rolling into and over another crack in the dry black earth.
Her daughter was on K and used crack for her word.
“C-r-a-c-k.” Sue looked straight ahead, correcting her matter-of-factly. “It’s a C, not a K, baby, although they do sound the same. For a K word, what about kangaroo? Or king?”
Becky gave her one of her I-can-do-it-myself looks. “How. About. Castle?”
“No, that’s a C, too. And watch your tone.”
“Fine then, kiss; that’s a K.”
She smiled at her precocious daughter. “It certainly is.”
It would be a long day.
Anxious to get down and stretch her legs, Sue started anticipating Levi’s return, but the boy hadn’t come back into sight since darting into the woods. “Leee-vi.” No response, so she hollered a little louder. “Levi!”
He came running up beside the wagon. “Yes, Aunt Sue?”
“I was wondering. How hard was it changing places without stopping the wagon?”
“Simple enough. Buckmeyer climbed aboard and took the reins. I jumped off. Weren’t nothing hard about it at all.”
“There wasn’t anything hard,” she corrected. “So do you figure your hour is up yet? I’m ready to walk a bit.”
“Sure. Already took care of my necessaries, so now’s fine with me.” He extended a hand toward the wagon and timed the rhythmic turn of the wheels, jumping aboard without a hitch. He climbed up beside her. “Now you; jump on down.”
She carefully half crawled around Becky, holding on, then stood off the seat and teetered on the edge of the sideboard. She examined the terrain ahead. It seemed a long way down; sure didn’t look as easy as it sounded.
“Jump. You’ll be fine. Bend your knees a little when you land.”
She leapt off. A short muffled scream escaped before she hit hard, losing her balance. She rolled onto the ground, then scrambled up to a sitting position as quickly as possible, flat on her behind with her legs extended out in front. She looked up in time to see Henry trying to hide a smile.
She stretched—as though sitting was exactly what she’d planned all along—until after the second wagon passed, then she rolled over to her hands and knees and pushed herself off the hot, hard-packed ground. Good thing she had on Andy’s trousers, even though she knew it wasn’t fittin’. She didn’t care; a skirt flying up over her head could have been even more embarrassing.
For a long while, she walked behind the wagons. Keeping up was no problem. She wanted to speak with her employee, but waited until she could try and forget him hiding that grin. Finally, she mustered her courage and hurried her step to walk beside his seat. Sure enough, the dog stretched out on the buckboard, sound asleep, tongue lolling. “Mister Buckmeyer, I thought we discussed the wisdom in saving the mules from pulling every pound possible.”
“Yes, ma’am. We sure did.”
“In that light, I can’t see how you think it’s fine for that dog of yours to ride in the wagon. After all, I imagine he weighs forty or fifty pounds.”
“Good guess. Forty-five last I weighed him.”
A thorned ivy caught her trouser leg. She twirled to keep from tearing the material. She quickly unsnagged the nasty vine, then pivoted and hurried to catch up with him again. “So then why is that lazy mutt riding?”
“Tonight, when we’re sleeping, Blue Dog will be awake and working. After a night or two, you’ll not begrudge him a nap or a ride.”
She looked away. Well, no one, not even a mangy old blue dog, should have to work day and night. “So what kind of time do you think we’re making?”
“Maybe a mile, no more than a mile and a quarter, an hour.”
“And how much farther do you think it is to Cuthand?”
“Nine mile or so.”
“Will it all be pretty flat?”
“Oh, there’s some rolling hills, but nothing too steep. We’ll be coming up on the Aikin place around noon. Thought we’d give the mules a rest there, let ’em get a drink, and we can eat some dinner.”
“Good idea.” She shaded her eyes and smiled up at him. “Becky insists that she wants a turn to walk, too.”
He grinned. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Sue sped up and took longer strides until she reached the first wagon. Levi and Becky were singing “Blow, Ye Winds, Blow.” She sang the lead, belting out, “My father’s got an acre of land.” Then harmonized to his melody on “Blow, blow, blow, ye winds, blow.” Her daughter had a beautiful voice like her daddy, and Levi did, too. “An’ you must dig it with a goose quill. Blow, blow, blow, ye winds, blow.”
Had to be a Baylor trait.
Seemed she’d been walking at least three hours before her turn finally ended. The sun shone mercilessly, and she’d soaked the bodice of her cotton shirt. “Levi, I’m coming up. Think I can get aboard without stopping? I’m afraid I didn’t do so great getting down.”
“It’s easier getting up, Aunt Sue. I promise.”
“So tell me what to do, and
I’ll try it. I hate to stop the team, as getting the load moving is the hardest.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s what Buckmeyer said.”
“I don’t think it sounds proper you calling Mister Buckmeyer by his last name alone. I don’t mind you using his first name, Mister Henry, but a respectful Mister is due as I see it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His claim proved true, and she boarded without incident. She wasn’t so sure about letting Becky jump, but the girl carried a powerful stubborn streak and usually got her way.
“When you get down, you have to stay in my sight now, or Mister Henry’s, at all times. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. But first thing, I’ve got to find me a tree or a bush because I gotta go.”
“Well, keep the wagon in sight then, and the rest of your turn, you have to be able to see me or Mister Henry, too. If you can’t see either one of us, then we can’t see you. Are you big enough to do that? Look at me, Rebecca Ruth.” She waited. “I will not be able to see you the whole time. The wagons will be moving. You cannot run off and forget to keep either me or Mister Henry in your sight.”
Becky stood on the edge of the sideboard with her hands on her hips. “Yes, ma’am, I said!” She leapt into the air. “Whoopee!” Skipping alongside the wagon, she smiled. “I’m going to go find me a spot, Mama. I’ll be back directly.”
“I’ll count and see how long it takes you.” Her daughter disappeared, and Sue started counting. She didn’t like Becky being out of view, but she understood. Besides, she was nine years old, and would be ten next summer. Sue could hardly believe almost a decade had passed since she was born. She shook her head. Double digits; where had the time gone? Ten years.
She rested her eyes a moment.
CHAPTER
FIVE
BECKY SKIPPED NEXT TO THE wagon again, and an uneasy tightness lifted that Sue hadn’t noticed before. The dog trotted beside her daughter. “Hey, Mama, look. Blue Dog is my new friend.” She petted the animal’s shoulder, and he barked and ran a bit ahead. “Mister Henry says my time is up, and he wants Levi to come back there.”
“But how are we going to do this?” Sue turned to her nephew. “Think you could jump down and help her up?”
“Here I come!” Excitement filled the little girl’s voice.
Sue turned in time to see her daughter step onto one spoke, catch hold of another, then ride the wheel up to the sideboard, where she jumped off and teetered a moment before Sue grabbed her arm. “Rebecca Ruth Baylor! Don’t you ever let me see you do that again! Do you hear me? You could have been killed. What were you thinking?”
The little girl threw both arms around her. “I’m fine, Mama.” She leaned back. “It wasn’t hard to do, and I didn’t get hurt at all. It was fun!”
“It was dangerous! And you scared me half to death!”
Becky rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I never meant to scare you.” She put her hand on Sue’s cheek and patted softly. “Sorry, I really am. Will you forgive me?”
She hugged her child tight. “Of course I will.”
Levi shook his head. “Bitty Beck, you’re going to have to do better than that.” He jumped down. “Since your man wants me, guess I’ll go back and relieve Henry.”
Sue shook her head. “Levi—Mister Henry, and please don’t be snitty.”
He rolled his eyes at her, too.
She couldn’t get any respect out of these two. “Thank you, Nephew.”
In no time, her hired hand appeared alongside her wagon. “We should be coming up on the Aikin place directly. It’ll be on a little hill on the right.” Blue Dog showed up wagging his tail by Henry’s side. He reached down and scruffed the mutt’s neck.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it would be so soon. I thought you said noonish. Are you certain we can’t go on a little longer before we stop? What have we come, four or five miles?”
“The Aikins’ place will be five. If you want to kill a mule our first day out, we could press on.” He smiled, but she didn’t appreciate his poor attempt at humor. “They’re nice folks. You’ll enjoy Martha.”
She glared down at him. That man! She’d never known anyone who could get her so riled up so quickly. Maybe asking him along was nothing but a big mistake after all. He evidently could not remember who the boss was, because he kept demanding things and making decisions like he had all the authority. “You overstate a bit, don’t you?”
“Listen, you’ve got good animals, ma’am, but how long has it been since they pulled two tons all day? And in such heat. If I was a betting man, I’d bet never.”
She hadn’t thought of that. Humph. He acted like it killed him to explain anything, like she should instantly accept everything he dreamed up as if it was the greatest idea she’d ever heard. He could’ve just said something.
“I know you want to beat the devil around the stump, Mis’ess Baylor, but sooner or later, we’ve got to stop and rest these animals. The Aikins’ would be a good place in my estimation, if you’re of a like mind.”
In one respect, she hated his logic and how right he always seemed. In another, she definitely did not want to hurt one of her mules. All four had been with her these past ten years; she couldn’t stand the thought of causing any harm to come to any of them. So in that respect, she had to appreciate his wisdom. Even if she didn’t want to or like it.
She faced front, purposely dismissing him. “I’ll be watching for the Aikins’.”
Henry took the point and quickly distanced himself out in front of the wagons. She studied his walk. He certainly was all sure of himself. His words rolled over her again regarding the mules and how they’d probably never pulled such a load all day. She hadn’t even thought of such a thing. He would definitely win his bet. So why did she feel so much animosity when he was only helping? She sighed; probably because of him always acting like he controlled the world.
Before the sun rose to its highest mark in the bright blue, cloudless sky, the home he’d told her about came into view. A small pond sat off to the left of the house. He pointed toward it. “Take the mules to water. I’ll let the family know we’re here.” He trotted ahead, then hollered over his shoulder, “I’ll be back to help unhitch the teams. Ask Levi to get started.”
Sir, yes, sir, she thought, then stood. “I hadn’t planned on unhitching them.” Her volume dwindled as she sat back down. He’d either run out of earshot or purposely ignored her. Here the trip had barely begun, and he persisted in making every decision, like it was his job to tell her how things were going to be and issue orders as though someone had crowned him king.
Well, she was not going to unhitch the mules. He would grain them, and they could drink, but she intended to get back on the trail in short time. She turned the team, and Dex threw his head; probably smelled the water. She was parched herself. A man came onto the porch, and Henry waved.
“Becky, we’re going to stop here for a while. Would you please get Mama a drink out of the barrel?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl stood and jumped off the wagon before Sue could grab her.
“Rebecca! I didn’t say get off before we stopped. I told you we were going to stop. You scare me plum to death, girl. Think about things before you just go off and do them.”
Becky ran alongside. “Oh, Mama, it wasn’t nothing.”
“Wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t hurt myself.” Blue Dog left Henry’s side and raced back to the girl. She kneeled, and he ran into her arms. “He likes me. See, Mama?”
“I see, I see. Hope you don’t get any fleas.” She had often contemplated a dog for the children, but never could justify feeding one. She wished now she had bought that nickel pup at the last camp meeting. Her darling girl had so few pleasures, and she sure had cottoned up to Henry’s mongrel.
Sue pulled the team to a stop short of the pool and climbed down. Levi stopped Mil and the brown mule next to her wagon. The animals stomped and snorted. He went straight to pulling their harne
sses off.
“Stop! Stop that, Levi. What are you doing?”
“Mister Buckmeyer.” He accentuated the Mister, obviously for her benefit. “Said we’d be resting the animals and told me to unhitch ’em.”
“Well, you just wait one minute.” She headed off toward the house with nary a sip of water.
Before she reached the rough-hewn dwelling, a young woman came out and stood to the right of the owner. She almost touched Henry and seemed unable to take her eyes off him. Humph. If she was the woman of the house, Aikin had certainly robbed the cradle. Five stair-stepped children rushed out, running past their pa and hollering like a wild herd of little scallywags.
A woman with graying hair appeared as Sue neared the porch. A chubby baby straddled her hip. The mother nodded, giving Sue’s trousers a once-over. “Good day, Mis’ess Buckmeyer, and welcome.”
“Oh!” She shook her head. “No, ma’am. He’s not my— We aren’t— I’m sorry, where are my manners?” She extended her hand and tried to laugh, but knew it sounded forced. “I’m Susannah Baylor, Mis’ess Aikin. I have a place a little west and south of here out on the prairie. Not too far actually. So pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
The woman laughed heartily. “Well, we sure hadn’t heard our Henry got married, but I knew it’d take a beauty like you to catch him.” She winked. “If he ever gets caught, that is. Sorry for the misunderstandin’, dear. Come on in now, Mis’ess Baylor, and get out of this sun. Imagine you’re in need of a cool drink.” She faced Henry. “You been getting along all right? Eatin’ enough?”
“Yes, ma’am, doing fine. I do miss Mother’s cookin’ though.”
The woman nodded and headed inside, holding the door open behind her. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, Mis’ess Baylor. I’ve been tryin’ to get a new quilt done, teaching the girls, you know. They’re all helping.”
Sue stepped forward to follow her. “Oh, don’t fret one bit about that. I understand. That drink sounds heavenly, Mis’ess Aikin, and please, my friends call me Sue.”
“Well, mine call me Martha.” She turned to the moonstruck girl. “Lizbeth, pull up a bucket of fresh water for our guests, please.”
