by Caryl McAdoo
“Oh. Well. That’s a good idea.” Her eyes twinkled with what looked to him like playful admiration.
“Well, thank you, ma’am. Glad to hear you think so.”
She smiled and even let a chuckle out. “You’re so welcome.”
He pulled his other boot and sock off, then handed the pair to the little girl. “Keep them dry for me up there on the seat.” He turned back to Sue. “Could you please hold the team?”
“Certainly, glad to.” She walked up to the mules and rubbed Daisy’s muzzle. “Whoa, girl.”
He walked in right where one wagon wheel would travel. The water was a bit cool, but not too bad. The river flowed a little above his knees at its deepest. He reached the far side, then came back where the other wheel would travel. It was narrow like the old man had said, but appeared more than wide enough to accommodate the wagons.
Levi busied himself hauling buckets of water to let the mules quench their thirst while Henry checked the riverbed. Sue met him at the bank on his return, still smiling. She was even prettier when she smiled.
“Looks like it’ll be fine. Best we all get to waxing the wagons. Levi, you can help me with the underside.” With that chore accomplished, Henry handed Sue his paraffin. “Tell the boy to hang back while I cross. Once I clear the far side, he can come hold that team, and I’ll get on back over here.”
“Now, Mister Buckmeyer, I’m perfectly capable of driving my wagon across after you.”
“No doubt, ma’am, but it wouldn’t do to get that cotton wet.” He didn’t mention keeping his tobacco or pelts dry. “How about you let me get this first one to the other bank? I’ll have a better feel. Then we’ll see.”
“Fine, fine.” She held her hands up to her daughter. “Come on down, Becky. You wait here with Mama.”
“But I want to ride across with Mister Henry.” The little girl frowned and stuck out her bottom lip.
“Rebecca, I agree with your mother. It’s safer to let me go it alone, so why don’t you jump on down like your mother said?”
She turned her frown on him, then smiled and jumped off the sideboard. He climbed back into the first wagon. “Ho, now. Let’s go.” He shook the reins, and the team heaved the load forward.
Keeping a close eye on the far bank, he urged them into the water. “Slow, now. Steady.” He spoke in calm tones.
On the far bank, the mules pulled the load out, and water, rushing off the wagon and wheels, ran back into the river. He took a deep breath, thankful the crossing had gone without mishap. He drove the team well up on the south side, then jumped down, hoping the lady wouldn’t insist on driving the other wagon across. “Levi, come on over and hold this team.”
The boy shook his head and glared. Henry hated it that the youngster acted so mad all the time, but he figured his bad attitude stemmed from not having a father to teach him to be a man. No way could a woman do that, no matter how hard she tried.
“No need. He can ride over with us,” Sue lifted Rebecca up and then followed her daughter into the wagon. Levi climbed in on the opposite side. “Ho, Mil! Come on, Mabel.”
Why did she feel the need to prove herself all the time? He was already duly impressed by her capabilities. “Keep ’em coming. Don’t let ’em stop.”
Safely on the far bank, she pulled the rig up next to the first and climbed down with an ear-to-ear grin and her chin held a little high. “I did it, Mister Buckmeyer, didn’t I?”
He smiled more at her elation than the successful crossing. “You sure did, ma’am.” Without a single hitch, both wagons crossed the Sulphur River and nary a drop landed on the lint or any of his goods. “Maybe some dinner while we’re stopped?”
She nodded. “We’ve got biscuits.”
“That’ll work, especially with a bit of my honey.” He turned to Levi. “Grab the buckets, and we’ll fill the barrels.” He faced her again. “You do like honey, don’t you?”
“Yes, indeed, and we can certainly take time for a noonday meal.” She appeared to be altogether happy with life. “Especially since we crossed the Sulphur so easily. I mean without incident, basically no trouble of any kind. Can you believe it?” She cleared her throat and laid one palm against her cheek. “Of course now”—her eyes twinkled—“I’d never be one to say I told anyone so.”
He nodded. “Good.” Before he put his boots back on, he waded out midstream, waited for the water to clear, then dipped the bucket full, handed it to the boy, and took the empty one. He had to figure a way to adjust that boy’s attitude. And the woman? She had no idea how many things could’ve gone wrong.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
TOWARD THE END of the first hour back on the trail, Levi came trotting up beside Henry. “Aunt Sue says for me to relieve you.”
“She’s the boss.”
The boy jumped aboard, then settled in to the seat next to him, but didn’t offer to take the reins. “I never took you for a coward.”
Henry glanced over at him. “I didn’t take you for a fool either, but you’re sure talking like one.”
“Oh, you think so? It was you ran off in the middle of the night when that stinking drunk came into camp.”
“That what you believe?”
The boy sniggered. “It’s what I know, mister; saw it with my own eyes.”
Henry shook his head. He hated explaining himself, but the boy needed a lesson. “What if there’d been more of them?”
“There wasn’t.”
“And you knew that right off?”
“Well, no, but the way I see it, a man meets whatever he has to head-on, not sulking around in the dark.”
“I prefer to know what’s afoot, how many I have to fight. It’s best to have all the advantages you can get going into any scrap.”
Levi studied Daisy’s rump like he was trying to figure things out. After a bit, he turned back and stared at Henry a few minutes before saying anything. “What would you have done if there had of been more of them?”
“Whatever it took.”
The boy gave a quick nod and then reached over and grabbed the reins. “Aunt Sue said she’d like a word with you.”
Henry jumped down and slow-walked until Sue’s wagon pulled alongside. Blue Dog trailed him. “You wanted a word?”
Rebecca leaned out across her mother. “Why is it you’re walking when it’s always my turn after Levi?”
“Guess we both can walk.”
“Sure you can.” Her mother shook her head at Henry. “Why don’t you jump on down, Becky? You’ve gotten plenty good at it. Play with Blue and spend some of that energy of yours.”
“All right, Mama, thank you! I’ll keep you in sight. I won’t forget!”
He adjusted his hat, gesturing to Sue before setting it a little further back on his brow. “That word?”
“Oh, I was just so excited that we got across the Sulphur with no problems and didn’t have to go so far out of the way over to the ferry, I hadn’t told you how much I’d appreciate it if you could stop underestimating me.” She smiled down. “I mean I realize men think women are helpless without them, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I have taken care of myself and my business without a man’s help for a long time now. And I drove my wagon across that river with no trouble.”
He could hardly believe his ears. “Don’t believe I have underestimated you, ma’am, but I apologize for giving you that impression. I’ve actually been quite astonished with your achievements. These sixteen bales of cotton on their way to market are a mighty testament to your abilities, Sue.”
“Oh. Well.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you, I guess.”
“And I was right proud of you for chasing off that horrible man this morning, too.”
“But you didn’t think I could drive my own wagon across the river.”
“Wasn’t that at all, ma’am.”
She looked off as though considering. “Then what was it?”
He shrugged. “Nothing to do with your capabilities, just wante
d to be sure the load didn’t get wet.”
“Well.” Her foot tapped the boards, then stopped. “All right. Since that’s out of the way, I’ve thanked the good Lord for our safe crossing, and I wanted to thank you, too. For making sure it all went well and everything.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Seemed to him that the Lord always got a lot of credit for things a man did, but she could believe what she wanted.
“Also want to ask you, if you get a chance, would you talk to Levi? He’s—”
He waved her off. “We talked. We’re good.”
“Excellent. He is a precious boy.”
He looked off to Rebecca romping with Blue and laughing. “You’ve done a fine job with the both of the children, Sue; another of your impressive achievements.”
“Why thank you.” She didn’t say anything for a while and fidgeted with runaway strands of her hair, working them back under her hat. “Well, I guess that’s all. I’m glad to know you think a little more highly of my efforts and wishes; especially since I—well—hired you to come along to assist us.”
Man, she just couldn’t let it go. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry you got the wrong idea that I didn’t.”
Rebecca ran up beaming. “I sure love your dog, Mister Henry.”
He gave the little girl a wink, then looked back up at Sue. “Mother always said, ‘Takes more than brawn to survive Texas.’ ”
A hint of blush flushed Sue’s cheeks. A smile tried to form, but she stopped it. “Well, thank you, Henry.” She wouldn’t meet his eye, but it was the first time she’d used his given name since she came to his place. He liked the sound of it on her lips. “That’s so kind of you to say.”
“Believe in giving credit where it’s due.”
She faced him, but this time she smiled.
He loved that show of gladness on her face and wished he could make it happen all day long, but he still had to address the next topic. “We’ve got the worse of it ahead of us, though, to get out of these bottoms. If you’re in agreement, I’d like to camp this side of White Oak Creek.”
Her smile disappeared. “Why not push on? We just crossed a river. A creek shouldn’t be any problem. For the life of me, I cannot understand why you’re always so intent on slowing our progress.”
“Not at all, ma’am, but I hear tell the double branch of the White Oak is more treacherous then the river. Unless you say otherwise, I’d like to take them on with fresh mules and a full belly.”
“How much farther can we go?”
“Hour, two at most.”
She glanced toward the sun, then looked back and shrugged, obviously perturbed again. “I would like to keep going.”
He nodded, tipped his hat, and then increased his pace. Every time he thought he’d gotten through to her, she went right back to her old way of thinking. He hated that she was so stubborn.
Past his turn to ride, he kept walking. If he’d told the widow thanks but no thanks, he could have had that last batch of seed ready and be on his way to St. Louis, but no. He’d hired on to be a nursemaid. Rebecca climbed into the wagon with Levi. Shortly, the girl’s laughter, then her singing, interrupted his sour mood. How could anyone stay grumpy around her?
He continued to walk until the creek came into view, then turned around. Levi stopped his wagon a few feet before the bank sloped into the water. Sue pulled her wagon next to the boy’s. He glanced at the sun and then stared at her. “Still want to cross this afternoon?”
She glared for a bit, then looked skyward and shook her head. “It would appear to me that the best idea would be to cross in the morning. The mules will be fresher then, not so spent; and so will we. We’ll cross after breakfast.” She climbed down from the wagon.
He nodded. “Probably for the best.” The urge to smile almost overwhelmed him, but he kept a straight face. “I’ll see about catching some fish for supper.”
With camp set, Levi seeing to cleaning and frying up three nice-size catfish, and corn bread baking in the Dutch oven, Henry offered his hand to Sue, who kneeled by the fire.
“Care to do some scouting?”
“Scouting? Why? What do you need to scout?”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
He stormed off toward the creek tired of all the woman’s whys. She couldn’t seem to accept that he had a good reason for everything he did. No, she insisted on questioning every move he made. Why, why, why.
He stopped short, sat on a fallen tree, and yanked off his right boot and sock. She walked around the trunk and sat down. He glanced over.
She sighed. “Didn’t mean to upset you, but I can’t for the life of me understand what’s wrong with me asking you—”
“There’s a reason for everything I do, and you’re always second-guessing me.”
She sat there silent for longer than he liked. “I don’t know what to say, Henry.”
“Care to get wet?”
She looked at him, eyes questioning, but didn’t ask why.
“Figured we should check out the creek bottom.”
She smiled. “Sure, why not? Doesn’t look too deep.” She leaned over and started unlacing her high-top shoes.
He got his other boot and sock off, then waded in. “It’s not so deep, but the bottom is said to be tricky.”
She eased her first shoe off, then tugged at the thick, masculine sock. Laying it over her shoe, she looked up. “Andy’s. I prefer wearing them when I’m working.” She started on her second foot, wrestling with keeping the trouser leg up out of her way. Seemed a bit of a chore, but she finally sat the shoes together, laying her late husband’s socks carefully over them. She rolled up both legs all neat like, then pushed herself up and walked toward him. “Same with his britches; just seem so much more practical for chores than petticoats and skirts.”
He ignored the comment and nodded toward his right. “You want to check that side?”
“Happy to.” She stepped into the water, then hiked her pants legs up even more. “Oh, it’s cold.” She grinned, then made an ugly face. “And the mud is so squishy. It’s nasty!”
He chuckled but continued walking to the other side of the shallows. On coming back, he checked a little more downstream. He crossed several times, noticing she followed his lead. “What do you think?”
“The mud’s a little deep, but the water’s shallow. It seems a little rockier over here. I think it’s a decent place to cross, don’t you?”
He nodded and resisted the urge to splash her with creek water. How could she do that to him? One minute, she made him so mad, then the next, made him feel like a schoolboy. “We shouldn’t have any trouble with this one.”
Heading toward the bank, he climbed out, then waited on her. He extended his hand. She slipped hers into it, and he pulled. He loved the feel of her skin, even if it was her calluses against his. Sue’s hands were so much smaller than his mother’s.
She climbed onto the bank, stared at him for a moment, and then slowly withdrew her hand. “I best go check on Levi. He might burn the fish if I don’t help.”
He nodded and stepped gingerly back to the felled tree. His tender feet found the knee-high grasses scattered with unseen stones and summer’s stickery seeds barely navigable. He quickly replaced his boots as Sue did—sitting so close, and yet so far away—then went on back, leaving her to finish without having to work so hard at keeping her bare ankles from his view.
He appreciated a modest woman—even one in britches. He smiled, thinking of what his mother would say about that. The way Sue had looked at him when she stepped out of the creek encouraged him. He hoped what he’d seen in her eyes was at least a bit of what grew in his heart.
* * *
CHIRPING BIRDS WOKE SUE. Her eyes opened to the gray light of false dawn. She lay there relishing the benefits of a decent night’s sleep. She looked over at her little girl snuggled up in her quilt on the furs and thanked God again for the child who gave her a reason to live. So much like her father. As hard as Sue tri
ed to remember, she’d forgotten exactly what he looked like, but Becky kept a part of him alive in her heart.
She smelled her favorite early morning aroma and rolled over.
“Morning.” Henry squatted next to the fire. He held up his tin cup. “Coffee?”
“Yes, sir, thank you.” She crawled from beneath the wagon, stood, and stretched her hands toward the sky. “I feel so much better this morning than yesterday. Rested and more refreshed.”
He handed her a steaming cup. “We all needed a good, long, quiet night.”
“Don’t you figure we’re at least a day or two ahead of the train now? Bless the Lord.”
“Well, for sure we’re bound to be ahead of them. We’ve had a good start.” He drained his cup and tossed the dregs toward the fire. “I’ve got biscuits in the Dutch oven. If you’ve a mind to tend them and maybe fry some salt pork, I’ll rouse the boy, and we can get the mules seen to.”
She nodded. “How long have they been cooking?”
He glanced at the eastern sky. “Five minutes or so.”
She busied herself with breakfast and picking up and stowing the pallets, except for Becky’s. The little sleepyhead would’ve slept all the way to eating time had it not been for Blue Dog. He nosed his head under her hand and, when he got no response, put one paw on her chest. It tickled Sue that he wanted her awake. The dog finally licked Becky’s face, and she opened her eyes.
Right as the sun burst over the eastern horizon, Henry doused the cook fire with creek water and faced Sue. “If it’s fine with you, I’ll take the first wagon.”
She realized it was more of an order than a suggestion, but she did prefer how he framed it. “Yes, you go ahead. That will be fine.” She made one more visual sweep of the camp. Everything was stowed, and other than the wet remnants of charred firewood, they weren’t leaving anything. “I’ll wait until you’re across and top the far bank.”
He nodded, then faced Levi. “Ride with me.”
The boy shrugged. He’d seemed a little easier to get along with, but still acted as if he resented the man being there. They both climbed aboard the lead wagon, and Sue said a little prayer. It seemed to take some extra urging to get the first team going. But they soon were in the water just below their knees.
