by Nancy Radke
Now I'm not one to be contrary, but what he said just made me want to hang onto him harder. Although, if he wished to be shut of me, I wouldn't hold him neither, and I said so.
He just nodded, thoughtful like, and five minutes later, after my mind had already passed on to other things, he said, "I never meant that. I'll stay in double harness, long as you can put up with me. I reckon you're more woman than it'll ever be my fortune to find. I know what I look like and I'm no great talker. The ladies don't pay me no attention. Neither would you, 'cept for this fix you're in."
"Maybe so," I said and left it at that. The thought of that shared bed had made me nervous as a green-broke filly and his statement eased my mind somewhat. This would give me time to get to know him. We drove along in comfort, each to his own musing until I finally asked, "Where you from?"
"West Virginia, by way of Texas. I went down the Ohio when I was fourteen and been seeing country ever since. There's a spot of country out here to see. I've been to Mexico and California, came back to fight in the war but it was almost over."
"Where were you headed when the Indians got you?"
"Wyoming. Or Colorado. Towards the mountains."
The mountains sounded good to me. Having left my rolling Tennessee hills almost a month ago, the thought of any mountains appealed mightily.
This flat land lying unbroken for miles except for gullies and low mounds was fine if you liked that sort of thing. I preferred my land standing up, rising in front of me or sweeping away from under me.
After a few miles Trahern spoke again. "I thought I'd find some land, bring in some cattle and prove up. The Sweetwater sounded good. I was going to look at it, then drift south till I found a spot. What're your plans?"
For the first time since Uncle Dem had died I stopped long enough to realize I didn't have any. It made me laugh at myself. Here I'd been intent on getting to Oregon when there was no reason to go. None at all.
So I explained it to Trahern, how first my folks had died and sent me to my uncle and aunt's; then after they died too, I had kept on with the wagon train because I was already pointed that direction. It's easy to keep on drifting, for in that way no decisions need to be made. So I made my first one.
"I was traveling with Uncle Dem. Now I'll go with you, wherever; unless you don't wish me to."
He was silent for a long time, turning that statement around in his mind. I could see that it pleased him for he was nodding slightly; a quiet man and one who thought things over. “Web was tellin’ me ‘bout a place near Shoshone country. There’s a town and a fort down the river. Walla Walla. Excellent ranching country.”
"Do you have a stake?" I asked. Some men travel and never own more than what they are wearing on their backs, while others slowly build until they have something to show for their life. And some men, like my Pa, finally settle on land that is beautiful; a delight to the soul and the eye but not to the belly.
"Yes. I brought a herd up the Chisholm trail and sold them at Abilene."
"But didn't the Indians take what you had?"
His face darkened. Maybe I shouldn't be asking so many questions. "No. I banked my money in Abilene ‘fore I headed west."
So he was a careful man, looking to the future. He was also a muscular man with large hands and broad shoulders; he could probably split firewood with one blow. He wasn't a chewin' man or one to smoke, for he'd refused Uncle Dem's tobacco when I offered it to him.
My mules liked him and I was beginning to, too.
Later that day I took the hat and scarf from my head and tried to comb my hair. It'd been left uncombed too long and was like trying to curry out a horse's tail full of cockleburs. I was still too tired to struggle with it and was ready to get out the scissors when Trahern noticed my efforts and called me up front with him.
"Bring your comb," he said, so I did, figuring he wanted me to watch the mules while he rode off. He handed me the reins, but instead of leaving, took my comb and climbed over behind me and started untangling my mop. I hadn't had anyone do for me since I was in pigtails and it felt awfully good.
"I was about ready to cut it off," I declared. "It's been nothing but a nuisance on this trip."
"Don't you dare," he said as he patiently worked out the tangles. "If need be, I'll comb it every day until we get settled."
"Web figured it attracts the Indians."
"Web's probably right, but even if you cut it short, they would spot the color."
He worked at it till he got it to flow nicely, then braided it into one long braid so as it'd stay nice. I hadn't worn it braided for several years, but out on the trail it made sense and I thanked him.
We rode on in silence for awhile, then I got out to gather fuel. Being in the lead wagon, I found some, but even then it was scattered widely. I wondered at the trains following us. How much were they finding?
A big jackrabbit jumped out from under my feet and bounded ahead of us and Trahern dropped it with a shot from Uncle Dem's pistol. It was a head shot so the meat was undamaged and I tossed it up to him.
That night I helped him dress his wounds again. They were healing swiftly, the two bullet holes causing the most grief, although they were older than the other wounds. It looked like he'd been shot before the Indians got him. I asked him.
"Three men. They robbed me a week earlier, left me for dead."
"You know them?"
"No, but if I ever see them again, I'll recognize ‘em." His voice was deadly quiet, his statement simple fact.
I wouldn't want to be any of those men, for three against one are no odds at all when the one is a skilled hunter.
Next day he brought back an antelope, killed with a single neck shot. We shared it with Axel's family and also with Kate Madison, now heavy with child.
It really made a difference being married. For one, the young men left me strictly alone. No more courting calls or offers of moonlight walks. Marriage, for me, brought freedom.
I took me a lay down every afternoon while we were going to Fort Kearney and soon regained my strength.
We arrived at Fort Kearney, glad to be with other people for awhile. There were several wagons there, folks that had stayed behind from other trains for one reason or another. Some needed to re-equip, some to rest up; some just couldn't get along with the group they were traveling with, so pulled up and waited for another train to come through.
Trahern had been here before, but that had been five years ago and the seventeen-year-old fort had grown since he'd been through. He knew some of the soldiers and went to renew friendships and also to inquire about the trail ahead.
I looked around inside the wagon for things to trade. There were a few things of Aunt Edith's I never figured to use. I gathered these along with some of her jewelry and took them over to the small store to try to buy supplies; mainly more flour and sugar.
The store was dark, and it was hard to see what I was getting. I made the storekeeper bring the flour out into the late afternoon light so as I could see it wasn't weevily. It looked good so I traded for a barrel, then looked for a hairbrush.
The rest of my things I traded for ammunition and a pistol, a twelve shot repeating pistol. It was lighter than my old one and in good condition. When trouble came out here, it seemed to come all at once. It made sense not to have to reload while an Indian was fixing to scalp me.
I bloused up my waist and stuck the pistol inside, loaded and ready, the hammer resting on an empty chamber. It took two trips for me to get the ammunition to the wagon and put away.
Then I looked around for Trahern. He was nowhere in sight, but it didn't worry me none until one of his soldier friends stopped and asked. Seems he couldn't find him anywhere.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He was gone, vanished while I was getting supplies. Now a man doesn't do anything without leaving tracks or somebody noticing, so I commenced askin' around in hopes of finding him right off. But no one had seen him go. Fortunately, the men of our train had decided to rest over one more day,
so it gave me time to look for him.
Now the fort wasn't a big place and there weren't that many horses about. I looked first for Trahern and then for Comfort, but didn't see hide nor hair of either. What had become of them?
I knew I was acting like a wife, a-fretting and getting myself all worked up over a man and his doings when he had probably given no thought to me and my feelings. Worrying makes a body want to do something, anything, rather than just sit like a pickle, so I gathered my rifle and that new pistol and mounted one of the mules and took a long ride around the place, checking depressions and ditches; anywhere's a man's body could be hid. I found nothing except some rabbits so shot one for meat.
By that time it was growing dark so I rode back and tied my mule with the others, skinned the rabbit and had supper. Still no Trahern. No word either. For the first time that bed felt empty and I had difficulty falling asleep.
The next day I struck pay dirt. A man rode in from the northeast who said he'd seen a man dressed in black broadcloth, riding a long legged bay horse with two white stockings. He described Trahern exactly, even to the way he sat his saddle. It looked like I'd been deserted, but although reason said I'd been left, pride said I hadn't.
I asked the man for more information, but he had none; except to say that Trahern was traveling swiftly. "The road had forked; I didn't get close enough to speak to him and he wasn't waiting for me. He was headed east along the Platte."
Was he traveling swiftly to get back to me sooner or to get away from me? Why had he ridden off without a word?
I thanked the stranger and walked back to my wagon. The mules were rested, ready to go. Trahern had Uncle Dem's rifle and pistol, leaving me with my Sharps and two pistols. I could continue on if I wished, hiring a man here to drive for me. But the desire to go to Oregon had left. I could go on to Ogallala, leaving word for Trahern that I'd gone ahead. Then if he came back, he could follow and find me. If not, I'd at least be at a town.
I pondered this through the second day he was gone; finally seeking out Web for advice.
"He'll be back, Mally. Don't you worry, none. He had something to do."
"What? Do you know what it is?"
"I'm not sure, but he might've got wind of the men who robbed him."
I'd forgotten about them. "How long ago was he robbed?"
"Three weeks ago; a week before the Indians got him. Three men shot and robbed him, took his money, guns and horse and left him for dead. He walked as far as the trail, had just reached it and was waiting for some wagons to pass by when the Indians jumped him."
A shudder went through me as I imagined him out on the prairie, alone and unarmed. He wouldn't have been able to defend himself. He'd walked for a week, then been tortured by savages before he was rescued. No wonder he'd been in such bad shape when I married him.
"I'll wait here then."
"You do that. If it was those men, it might take him awhile, but he'll be back."
Comfort was a goer, a fast moving horse and Trahern had our best weapons. If those three didn't ambush him, he had a chance.
I had no real knowledge of the man I had married although what I'd seen so far gave lots to admire. I had to take Web's word that he would probably come back here, so I stayed behind the next morning as the other's left.
There were plenty to tell me I was a fool and to urge me to continue on with them. Even Hedda urged me to go, saying that Trahern could catch up easily enough. This I knew, but I also knew that our marriage was at best on slippery ground and a man like him should be waited for. I wanted him to find me there when he got back. If he was wounded when he returned he’d need help; not to discover that he'd married a flighty wife without any wait in her.
Besides, in the short time we'd had together, I'd gotten used to having him around and I missed his homely face.
The fort was just a cluster of buildings and the men around there often drunk. I slept lightly, my pistol by my side, loaded and ready. My knife handy, too. If Trahern came back at night he had better make himself known or I'd be without a husband by my own hand. I debated that, but he knew I was handy with weapons; so could only hope he would call out.I didn't trust any of those men when they were drunk.
Also, Calvert Smith had stayed behind, pulling his wagon in close to mine, saying it needed work on it. I trusted him even less. He was always around, watching me and had approached me several times with offers to help. I thanked him each time, but refused. Web's warning had made me wary of the man. I kept my guns handy, my knife in its sling.
Trahern didn't come the next day nor the next. I used the time to straighten up the wagon and repair the harness and my clothes. I picked apart one of Aunt Edith's long, full dresses and had enough material to make myself a nice looking dress. Calvert stopped by several times, but I told him I was too busy to chat.
Each day wagons would stop, sometimes two trains would come in less than a day apart. Some were headed for Oregon, but many of the folks were California bound. Most were looking for land or a new beginning and were tradesmen and builders, but there were others looking for gold, an easy stake and quick money to be had off those who did work.
The latter bunch was a shiftless lot, some meaner than a cross-eyed skunk. Calvert had begun to mingle with them. I wished he had gone on with the train. His presence did my mind no good. He had done no work on his wagon that I could see; and neither had Joe Peters.
Then one morning I awoke to find his wagon had left with a departing train. Now I could breathe easier. He'd grown more and more surly and less and less pleasant as each day had gone by. It felt good to be rid of him. He had hung around too much for my liking.
Now if only Trahern would return or send me word. There was not much grass left near the fort. Each train was having to herd their stock farther and farther away. They were willing to take mine out with them, but I didn't like to be beholden. There was no one left this day except me so I tied my mules to the wagon wheels after I'd taken them down to the river to drink.
For the first time in days I left the wagon and went into the small store there at the fort. I looked over the goods displayed, but with no intention to buy. I was pondering what to do.
Should I plan to leave with the next train? I'd be better off in Ogallala. I could get a job there—maybe—until I heard from Trahern. Web had said to stay, but it would be a week tomorrow; how long should I stay? A month? Two months? I couldn't stay here in winter. Should I try for Denver? That was bigger. But if I couldn't find a job, there would be no rabbits to eat and eating in hotels is the most expensive thing a body can do.
I knew nothing about cattle or picking a site for a cattle ranch. It would do no good for me to scout for one. I could cook though, and I could make doughnuts. I had made some one night for Trahern and we had everyone on the train coming by.
About that time another wagon train came into the fort area and I looked the people over. None of these folks had the wherewithal to buy, but the same might not be true in Denver. Of course in Denver, there would be restaurants and other people who could make doughnuts.
A tall young man stepped into the store, pausing in the doorway, his eyes moving slowly from person to person. He was a handsome figure of a man, broad of shoulder and with a carriage that hinted of a military background. He looked directly at me for a moment, with green eyes that showed a questioning interest, before looking away.
He came a step toward me, hesitated, then walked over to where the storekeeper was helping a lady fill her order. I turned to look again at the sewing goods displayed.
The needles, thread and yarn were tempting, but I had Aunt Edith's sewing goods and so didn't need them.
"Mrs. Trahern? Ma'am?"
It took me a minute to realize that whoever was speaking was speaking to me. I looked up to see that tall young man standing at my side, his broad-brimmed hat in his hand. He had light brown hair, needing to be cut, bleached in streaks by the sun. How did he know who I was? I'd never seen him before. Or
had I? He looked somehow familiar.
"Yes?"
"I've a message for you, ma'am. From your husband."
At last! Relief swept over me revealing how worried I really had been. "Is he all right?"
"Yes...at least he was when I left him."
"Where was that?"
"Fremont. Just this side of Omaha."
That far? "Did he say what took him?"
"Yes ma'am. He didn't want to worry you none, but he found out the men who robbed him were camped just east of here. He took off after them but someone tipped them off he was coming. He had to chase them all the way down the Platte."
"And did he catch them?"
"He did. Two of them. He's got most of his outfit back and has one more to take care of. He said he'd be back. You can leave word where you'll be...here or at Ogallala: he'll check both places till he finds you."
"Thank you."
"He sent the horse and weapons back for you. He's got his own now and wanted you to have them."
"Oh...he did? Did you bring them?"
"Yes'm. And some other things. If you want to step outside ma'am, I'll turn them over to you."
We stepped out into the bright sunlight and walked over towards the trees where he'd left his outfit. There was a large jumble of wagons and people, for it was a very long train and they hadn't pulled up into any kind of formation. Did you come in with this group, Mr...?"
"Courtney. Yes, I did."
I stopped walking and he stopped, too. Now I had him placed. That handsome face and long stride; I should've known right off. The man of my dreams.
He'd filled out a bit, grown a mustache, his shoulders broader and chest deeper, but he was a Courtney all right. And even more handsome than when he’d left the mountains. An imp of mischief rose in me; I couldn't help wanting to tease him, he was so serious and respectful.
"Courtney," I said slowly, as if pondering deeply. "You must be Gage Courtney."
His eyes focused sharply on mine. "You heard of me?" he questioned, puzzled.
"You got you a brother name of Razzel."
