by Regina Scott
“That’s what the Security Patrol is for,” he reminded her. Then, as if he read her mind, he added, “I know they haven’t accomplished very much in regards to Boomer Town’s safety before, but at least Katrine will be armed. Lars tells me that she’s not a bad shot. Cassie and Dakota will be staying behind, too—Cassie didn’t want the boy in the midst of all that confusion. Winona’s going to ride her horse alongside Keith’s wagon in case he needs any help.”
“That’s good,” Alice murmured. Mr. Gilbert was no longer young.
“Those who’ve been left behind with wagons will be sticking together,” Elijah went on. “In addition to the Security Patrol, contingents of the army will be patrolling what’s left of the tent cities to prevent any mischief.”
“We’ll owe Katrine a debt of gratitude for being willing to do this,” she said, and Elijah nodded his agreement.
“After everyone’s staked their claims, Winona will ride back here to guide Katrine and Cassie to the homesteads in their wagons. She’ll drive the Thornton wagon. She knows the area thoroughly where Lars is heading.”
It sounded as if they’d thought of everything while she was still sitting with Maxwell, trying to tolerate his company. But that was over now.
Her mind shifted to other matters. “I’m glad Winona and Dakota have stayed with us,” she mused aloud.
“I am, too,” Elijah said. “It will be good to watch the boy grow up. I pray that he and Winona will come to faith soon. I have a feeling Dakota could become quite a warrior for the Lord.”
Alice smiled at the image of a grown-up Dakota, preaching the Word. She prayed that Indians like Winona, and those of mixed blood such as Dakota, would be able to live in harmony with their white neighbors. This Oklahoma, with its red clay and ever-blowing wind, should belong to everyone.
*
By eleven, everyone was milling around near the borderline. The army officials wouldn’t let them come forward and arrange themselves along it for another half hour, and the uniformed men had already made it clear that anyone who stepped foot over the line before the rifle shot at noon would be unceremoniously escorted to the back of the crowd and forced to wait till everyone else had taken off. Folks had already lined up just behind that demarcation, however, and had only to move forward when permission to advance was granted at last.
Just visible down the line was a wooden tower on which a trio of soldiers sat. From there would come the rifle shot that would signal the beginning of the run into the new territory.
Gideon and Clint had returned from their expedition, and joined Elijah and Alice at the border. They grinned as they reported that Peterson had still been protesting his fate when they’d turned him over to the army, but Colonel Amboys, who’d assumed custody, was having none of it. He’d put Peterson on the same train the last group of would-be homesteaders had come in on just this morning, so he could be its first passenger on the return trip East. A pair of soldiers had been ordered to make sure their charge made it all the way to the end of the line.
It had been a happy reunion between Alice and her Appaloosa mare when she and Elijah had gone to the corral to collect their mounts. Cheyenne had arched her neck and trotted over to the rail as soon as Alice called her, then lipped the sugar lumps Alice held in an outstretched hand. Cheyenne had stretched her neck across the rail and snuffled Alice’s face as if greeting a long-lost friend. Now, saddled and bridled and carrying the bedroll Alice would need tonight, Cheyenne pawed the buffalo grass beneath her hooves as if eager to be galloping over the prairie.
A bugle call pierced the cacophony of neighing horses, braying mules and buzzing conversations. “All right, move up to the border!” cried an officer. “Everyone’s to be orderly—no pushing, no shoving. A wagon has just as much right to the front of the line as anyone on horseback. But those of you on foot and on those confounded bicycles—and I’ve got to say I think you’re all insane—would be smart to let the horses and wagons take off first. A wagon driver or a rider might not see you for all the dust, and you’d get trampled.”
A cloud of red dust rose above the shouts of those driving wagons. Elijah was glad that Alice was staying close. Gideon and Clint were on his other side, and Lars just beyond them. At Lars’s other side was Keith, driving his wagon, with Winona riding alongside it. Farther down the line, Elijah could see Molly Murphy and Sean in their wagon, and the two Ferguson sisters, driving a buckboard.
Far down the line in the other direction, he thought he spotted a rider who looked like Theo Chaucer. There was another rider with him who might have been Theo’s brother Brett, but he hadn’t turned his head in Elijah’s direction, so he couldn’t be sure. There was a third rider just beyond him, but Elijah didn’t recognize him. A wagon sat beside the third rider, with a man and woman sitting on the driver’s perch. The woman held a small child in her arms. The man might be Reid, the third Chaucer brother, but he couldn’t see the woman well. He remembered Reid had a twin, Evelyn—was she here with her brothers?
He saw that Clint had raised a spyglass and was looking in their direction, too. “Yeah, it’s the Chaucers. Of all the luck. We can’t get away from them even today of all days.”
“It’s not likely they’ll head in the same direction we do,” Gideon said, before Elijah could. “I don’t reckon we’ll ever need to see them again.”
“Everyone who’s planning to go with us to Brave Rock, listen to me,” Lars called out then. “Try to stick with me. I’ll be heading northwest from where we are now. The spot I told you about, where Brave Rock sticks out in the Cimarron River, is just about thirty-one miles from here as the crow flies—but of course, we are not riding flying crows.”
They all chuckled.
“So stay with me if at all possible. I know the best, easiest ground to travel.”
Gideon spoke up then. “We’ll all set out at a gallop, of course, but after that we need to pace our horses. They’ll tire fast if we try to run them the whole way. So slow your horses when I slow mine, and take advantage of streams we pass to let them drink. With any luck, they’ll all last the distance without injury. It’ll probably take us till sometime in the afternoon to get there.”
It was a long speech for Gideon to make, Elijah thought, but who better to make it? He was the expert horseman, after all.
“I would like to pray for us all,” Elijah said, and everyone—even Gideon and Clint—bowed their heads. “Lord,” he prayed aloud, “thank You for this opportunity to come into a new land where we hope to live our lives for Your glory. Please give us safety as we run this race, keeping our eyes on You. Bless our mounts and give them swiftness and sureness of foot and endurance, and give us strength this day and in the days to come as we start our new lives. We ask these things in Your name. Amen.”
Alice looked at her watch. “It’s nearly time,” she said and reached for her canteen to take a drink.
Elijah did likewise. Then, after replacing their canteens in their saddlebags, they each took up their reins and sat forward in their saddles. Elijah felt his bay’s shoulders bunch as the gelding sensed he would soon get to run.
“Good luck, Elijah,” Alice said in a voice just loud enough for him to hear it. “God bless you and thank you for all you and your brothers did.”
“Good luck to you, Alice, and God keep you safe.”
This was it. The soldiers in the tower were standing now, two of them aiming a spyglass in either direction, no doubt to see soldiers up and down the line. The soldier carrying the rifle had aimed it at the sky.
“Get ready!” bawled the mounted cavalryman nearby.
Elijah thought he heard a distant report down the line, and a second later, the nearby soldier shot his round, too.
Hundreds of cries and the thunder of hundreds of hooves echoed around him as their mounts surged forward. The Land Rush was on!
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alice had never known a more terrifying, more exhilarating time in her whole life as the first few
minutes after the rifle shot had sounded. Immediately she and Elijah were swept up in a sea of galloping riders and dust. It was a wall of noise—the thunder of hooves, the pounding of wagon wheels, the crack of whips and shouts echoing all around them. Alice heard a resounding crack as, somewhere in the thickly packed galloping horses and jolting wagons, an axle snapped. Some fifty yards to her side, she saw a canvas wagon top waver and fall as the wagon with the broken axle went down. She said a quick prayer for those inside it, hoping they weren’t injured by the crash or trampled by those behind them.
Was it Keith Gilbert’s wagon? she wondered furiously. No, there it was, behind them, with Gilbert flapping the reins, urging his team onward. Winona clung to her galloping horse as if she was one with it.
She saw Elijah bent low over his mount’s neck, his bay running neck and neck with her Appaloosa. As if feeling her eyes on him, he took one hand from the reins and pointed his thumb up. She nodded. They could not have heard each other over the din if they’d shouted at the tops of their lungs.
She turned her eyes to the prairie ahead of them, keeping Lars’s buckskin in sight, and reminded herself to scan the ground just ahead of them continually. Cheyenne was a plenty savvy horse, but a gopher hole in their path could spell disaster for both of them.
They rode at a full gallop for at least a half hour, then, at Lars’s signal, slowed slightly to a lope, a fast canter that ate up the ground beneath them and that the horses could keep up for a long while. The crowd had thinned around them as riders and wagons split off to the south, north and due west of them. Here and there she’d seen some even jumping off their horses and wagons, unwilling to take their chances farther on, shoving stakes with white banners attached to them into the ground.
Half an hour after that, Lars signaled them to trot. “We’re coming to a stream soon. We’ll stop there and refresh ourselves, ja?”
*
“What’s that up ahead?” Elijah called to Lars in midafternoon, pointing off to his left. “Between the trees. It’s shining. Can that be the Cimarron?”
“Ja, it’s the Cimarron!” Lars called back, his face creased in a grin as broad as Oklahoma. “As soon as we get closer, we’ll turn west and follow it to the Brave Rock.”
“Hallelujah!” cried Elijah.
“Thank God,” Alice said. She knew now how the ancient tribes of Israel must have felt upon reaching the Promised Land.
It still felt like an eternity till they spotted it—the black boulder sticking up out of the curving brownish-green water, just beyond its red clay bank.
“Brave Rock, there it is!” Clint cried. “Yee-haa!”
Even the horses seemed to gain a second wind, speeding once more into a gallop. When the group came to it, they stopped for a moment, letting their horses rest. Here would be their town.
Gideon looked over his shoulder then. “There’s a rider coming way back there. Don’t know if he’s one of your flock or not, Lije, but we’d better get going and stake our claims.”
Alice looked back and saw the distant speck. Gideon had to have the eyes of a hawk to identify it as a man on horseback, but it was coming fast in this direction.
Lars said he was heading just south of where the town would be situated, and spurred off. Then Clint and Gideon headed off in one direction, she and Elijah in the other.
Alice followed him on a deer track that headed more southwesterly than Clint and Gideon had gone, not far from the rock and the river it jutted out of.
She knew from Elijah’s smile when they reached the ideal spot—a wide meadow dotted here and there with trees. In the distance just to the east, she spotted a twin line of trees that probably flanked one of the many streams that meandered into the Cimarron.
By tacit agreement, they reined in their mounts.
“How does this place suit you?” Elijah asked.
“It looks just right,” she said. There was no sign of anyone else’s stake planted anywhere, and they had spotted no one behind them. Whoever had been coming behind them must have gone another way.
“How about if I plant my stake over yonder?” She pointed to where a walnut tree stood.
“All right by me,” Elijah agreed. “I’ll plant mine there.” He pointed to a slight rise to the west of it. “Two parcels, side by side.”
They galloped in each direction and, in a minute, had each stuck their stakes into the red Oklahoma clay.
She had done it! She was the proud possessor of a homestead of 160 acres of Oklahoma soil, Alice thought, hugging herself from sheer happiness. No matter what happened, this was hers. No one could take it away from her.
And then she realized the one thing—the one person—who could complete her joy. Her mare, cropping the lush grass, had strayed a few feet while Alice had planted her stake, but now Alice mounted again, nudging the Appaloosa into a lope toward where she could see Elijah pacing off a rectangle of land—no doubt where he would place his church.
He looked up as she approached and waited with a half smile on his lips, a smile that grew broader as she skidded to a stop.
“Are you happy with your land, Alice? Where are you going to place your infirmary?”
Intent on what she had been about to tell him, she said absently, “Oh, probably in the shade of that walnut tree… Elijah, I came to tell you something.”
Elijah looked at her intently. “And what is that, Alice?”
She knew she was risking everything now. He might tell her that he was standing firm in not marrying again, but something in his face told her there was nothing to fear.
She jumped off her horse and into his waiting arms. “I came to tell you that I love you, Elijah Thornton. My life will only be complete if it’s lived with you.”
It must have been just what he had been waiting to hear, for he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her for a long, sweet time. “And I love you, Alice Hawthorne. Let’s get married just as soon as we can, all right?”
“More than all right,” she said, and kissed him again to show him how much more.
Suddenly the sound of a horse coming fast had them jumping apart. Both of them tensed.
It was Gideon. Elijah relaxed and Alice saw a broad smile replace the wary look he had worn a moment before. Gideon would be the first to hear their good news, Alice thought.
And then she saw the shocked, haggard look on Gideon’s face.
Gideon reined his mount to a skidding stop. “You’ve got to come quick, Alice, Lije…”
“What’s happened?” Elijah demanded. “Is Clint hurt?”
“No, he’s all right, far as I know…. I saw him galloping off to the land he wanted.” Gideon was breathless, and his words tumbled out between gasps. “But there was this other fellow—the one that was comin’ behind us, I think—he seemed to be following me…heading straight for the claim I was aiming for…”
“Slow down, Gideon, take a drink,” Elijah said, offering him his canteen.
Gideon took a long, shaky draft. “The last stretch before the land I’d picked out is a little tricky—Lars had warned me of it. The path is narrow and climbs steeply, but it’s the quickest way there. I took it, and this fellow tried to follow. Then I saw out of the corner of my eye when his horse stumbled and went down…. I—I figured I’d go back just as soon as I planted my stake, so I did, and…he’s hurt bad, Alice. The horse fell on him, best I can figure. You’ve got to hurry…see if there’s anything you can do for him. He’s pale as paper, Alice…”
Elijah and Alice exchanged a look. “I don’t have my medical kit—I packed it in the wagon,” she said. “There are just a few bandages in the saddlebag…” But she knew she had to try to do what she could. She grabbed Cheyenne’s reins again.
Elijah had already unsaddled his horse, so he jumped on behind Alice, and they took off, following Gideon’s galloping mount.
It felt like an eternity until Gideon reined in again. “There he is!” he cried, pointing as he jumped off and ran to the sprawled figure
in the grass. Alice noted a riderless horse grazing nearby, its reins trailing, saddle still on its back.
As soon as Gideon got close to the man, he recoiled and turned away, shuddering.
Alice walked past Gideon and looked down at the injured man. She knew as soon as she caught sight of the wide staring eyes in the man’s unfamiliar, bloodless face that they were too late. She hoped he hadn’t suffered for long, whoever he was.
“He’s gone, Gideon. I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Elijah had come up behind her, and now bent and shut the man’s eyes.
“What if I’d stopped and gone back right away?” Gideon asked, stricken. “I should have gone back…”
“No, Gideon,” she reassured him. “The horse probably did fall on him, causing internal injuries. No one could have saved him.”
Gideon took a deep breath. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Clint had arrived on the scene, no doubt alerted of trouble by some brotherly sixth sense. Elijah quickly informed him of what had happened.
“Any idea who he is?” Elijah asked his brothers and Alice. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Gideon stepped over and looked at the man again. “Me neither.” Clint said the same.
Alice shrugged. “He’s no one I’ve treated in Boomer Town.”
“I’m going to say a prayer for him, and then we’d better contact the authorities,” Elijah said.
Alice felt a tear slide down her cheek for the unfortunate man. She wondered if he had a wife and a family. Were they even now waiting back in one of the tent cities for him?
“I’ll take him with me and find the authorities,” Clint said to Elijah. “Gideon, help me catch that stray horse over there, and we’ll tie the man on him. You and Lije stay here, and watch over Alice and our claims.”
It was a sobering reminder of how quickly tragedy could strike in the midst of joy, Alice thought, as Elijah put a comforting arm around her. This accident could have happened to any one of them during the perilous race, she realized, and she said her own prayer of thanksgiving for the way the Lord had kept all of them safe—and for the strong arms around her now. She leaned her head against Elijah.
