by Rita Hestand
He noticed the young girl, Gwen had taken to a young soldier, they were sparking, and he could tell the young girl wanted to be with him. This was a good sign.
The next day Gwen had told Abby she was staying. She didn't know the young soldier that well, but he said he could get her a job doing laundry there and they could get to know one another. That was enough for Gwen.
"I'm sorry Miss Abby, I know you wanted us to go the to gold fields, but somehow I think this is more my place than there. Are you mad at me?"
Abby came up to her and hugged her, "No, I'm not mad. I'm glad you've found a nice young man, and like he said, the job will give you time to get to know him. If it doesn't work out, maybe you can come out there later."
"Oh yes, thank you Miss Abby. And thanks for letting me come this far with you."
Abby smiled, and Gwen walked off with her young soldier.
Cully had seen them and walked up to Abby. "She's quite taken with the young Corporal, isn't she?"
"Yes, and they gave her a job here, so she could have some time to get to know him. She wants to stay."
"Does it upset you?" Cully asked.
"No, because it's good here and I hope she finds the life here she wants." Abby was near tears.
Cully pulled her chin up, "She will."
"Y-yes, of course she will." Abby tried to smile.
The next day another wagon train stopped at the fort and the people all mingled and got to know them. The wagon master introduced himself to Cully. He was a nice man, but Cully sensed he didn't have much experience at his job and that he would need help to get his hundred wagons to Oregon. He wondered why such an inexperienced man would take on such a job.
The night of the dance the huge building they held it in was packed with people. Music drifted out to the soldiers still on duty, some of them keeping time to the music with their feet.
There was punch, and deserts and the music was quite good as several soldiers played instruments. Finally, some of the soldiers picked a lady and took them to the dance floor. The women were smiling and although their dresses were much plainer than the soldier's wives, they all looked lovely.
The ladies wore their finest dresses and Cully could tell they were enjoying themselves. The way they reacted to the soldiers also told him they'd be much more suited for this life than at the gold fields too. If only they had more time to get to know them.
Johnny had dressed up for the occasion and he wasted no time in asking Rebecca for a dance. The doc had cleaned up and was standing close to the punch bowl, talking to one of the cooks. He seemed to be eyeing Gladys. Slim had found a pretty young girl who happened to be a Captain's daughter, to ask to dance and was enjoying himself if his smiles were any signal.
Cully talked with the Colonel for a while. But when Cully kept talking about the problems ahead, the Colonel seemed frustrated with the conversation.
"Aren't you going to dance?" the Colonel asked. "Relax a little."
"I'm not much of a dancer," Cully smiled.
"I don't think they'd notice. They sure seem to be enjoying themselves." The Colonel smiled. "If you'll excuse me, my wife enjoys a whirl around the floor."
"Of course."
But Cully didn't see Abby, so he walked around the room. Then he spotted her through the window, out on the veranda, alone. He wondered why she wasn't in here enjoying the dance.
He went outside. "Aren't you joining in?"
She was staring at the moon, quite transfixed.
She hadn't heard him, he moved closer. "Miss Abby, aren't you going to dance?'
She saw him and seemed to tense a bit. "I never learned to dance."
He chuckled, "Me either. Maybe we could learn together, out here where no one else can see our mistakes."
She looked at him, "Are you serious?"
"Why not. If they don't see us they can't laugh at us." He smiled.
He reached for her hands.
She slowly lifted them.
"One, two, three," he counted then swung her around, but they made so much racket, he took her out on the ground and they danced in the moonlight, managing to trip over each other's feet several times, they giggled until Abby's smile faded.
"Why are you doing this?" she suddenly stopped dancing.
"Doing what?"
"Acting as though you can't dance?"
"Who said I'm acting?" he asked, his smile fading too.
"I confided in you, but I don't want your pity." She announced. "I don't need to be nurse-maided."
"And you don't have my pity, you have my respect."
"Don't you have someone else you can be charming to?" she snapped.
"Not at the moment, no. But I see I seem to offend you, excuse me, Miss Abby." He nodded and walked off.
***
Abby watched him walk away, wishing she could take back all the ugly things she said to him, but it was better this way. She had mapped out a plan for herself and she couldn't be distracted from her goal. Once all the women were settled in California, she could relax and think about herself. Since she'd formed her plan to go to the gold fields, she hadn't thought much about what she might do once she was there. She was sure Cully was probably right about the men in California, but she had to think positively about it.
Still, she missed Cully. He was rough around the edges, like herself. No man had ever danced with her before. Nor smiled at her so. She could lose her heart to a man like Cully easily. He was strong, independent, and charming when he wanted to be. But he was merely doing a job, and she had to remember that. Still, when he shot that cat from the tree and she fell into his arms, she couldn't ignore the attraction she felt for him, nor the single finger that touched her cheek so softly, nor their eyes meeting. It was a breathtaking moment, and she'd hold it in her heart for the rest of her life.
She tapped her foot to the music and stared at the full moon as tears clouded her vision. She was such a fool, and Cully was probably right about the miners. Still, it was a chance and she'd take it.
She'd killed a man. Her own husband. How could she put that away from all of this? How could she learn to forget and get on with her life? How could she forgive herself? She seriously doubted she could. Coming out west wouldn't change what she'd done. She'd made one big mistake, thinking this trip would be a new beginning. I can't begin again until the past was dealt with.
She remembered that night so well. Michael torn her dress, her last and only dress, and she'd cried. When she talked back to him, he slapped her across the room, blood ran from her mouth. What no one knew, no one would ever know was that she was pregnant with her husband's child and because he beat her so badly, she lost that child. That, and that alone had been the last straw. She forgave him many times, but not for that. He could hurt her, but killing her unborn child was too much.
She'd been happy when she realized she was going to have a child. It brought something new and innocent into the world. And he had doused it with one slap across the room. He was so drunk he'd never know what he'd done.
He'd beat her hard that night. Harder than ever before.
Yet this was nothing new for Abby, he'd beat her every time he wanted her because she fought him, tooth and nail she fought him and she wasn't ashamed of that. He had no right and she wanted him dead.
Dear God, I wanted him dead! What kind of person am I?
Still the memory of that night wouldn't fade. When William went to bed, she'd gotten up, seeing the blood on the bed, she tended herself, even pulled the washtub inside to bath in. She hadn't been far enough along to fully realize what was happening to herself. She did the best she could. He hadn't moved, he was so drunk. The horror she dealt with losing her baby, and him not even knowing it, made her determined to do something about herself. Laying there in the tub, crying silent tears for her child she would never have, she made up her mind. Making sure he was asleep, she went to get the rifle, loading it, she went to the bedroom. She stared at him long and hard. He was asleep, snoring, an
d dead drunk. "Never again!" she whispered. Then, she shot him, twice. She had to be sure he was dead. He didn't move, didn't breathe and she sighed with relief. And then fear struck her. She'd go to jail or hang one. Did they hang women? She wasn't sure. She had been so terrified.
She'd fell on the floor and cried like a baby.
It was over, all the nightmares were over. When she woke before daylight, she realized the consequences and feared for her own life. She couldn't let anyone know what she'd done, nor what she'd been through. So, she took the last of the kerosene, sprinkled through the house and lit it afire. Then she ran into the forest and watched it burn. She spent several nights in the forest finding it a welcome reprieve from the home she once had. Her father had come to see the damage, when he didn't find her about, she assumed he thought her dead too.
Later, when she was sure no one was around, she went back to the cabin. The smell of smoke lingered forever. She looked at where William had lain. There was nothing but cinders now and scant leavings of bone. She buried the bones, like it was him and put up a marker.
People came around asking about him months later, and she hid from them too. What could she say?
After two long years of hiding from people, she wandered away. The nightmare of those two years would live with her forever.
She found an abandoned cabin far back in the woods and she made it her home.
She'd killed her husband, and she wasn't sorry.
But living alone proved hard too, she had to eat, and there wasn't any food to be had. She rigged up traps to catch a rabbit. She went fishing, and she dug up potatoes that someone had planted before they moved on.
She cleaned up what she could of her new place and learned to live off what the forest offered her. She learned to hunt for food and pick berries and live off what God provided.
But for two long years she lived with a gun by her side. And the fear of the law catching her had her so tense she could barely sleep. No one came after her. Her conscience was her only enemy now. How did one forget such a night?
Others heard about the fire and finally came around. She began going to town and trying to act normal. Women she'd barely knew came to talk to her, confide in her and slowly Abby came alive again. She had gained a purpose in life. She made up her mind, she was going to help the women that came to her, somehow. Their plight had been a lot like hers and she understood them.
And that's when she decided on the Lady Train and the gold fields of California. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was a solution and it got the women away from the cruel men that had raised them.
Now, here, she finally convinced herself that she deserved a new life. Problem now was that Abby knew she was attracted to Cully. But he knew what she had done too and hadn't judged her. For that she liked him even more. And yet, she knew she couldn't tell him how much she liked him. She couldn't tell him that this strange new attraction was all she thought about, and the hopelessness of never being able to tell him.
Cully was a lot of things, but he was decent, and he wouldn't be falling for a murderer.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Cully rode out to check the land and the weather. A dense fog had settled over the river and he hoped it would clear before they started out. Fog had a way of unsettling people.
He rode far enough to find pony tracks where the Indians had come to water their stock.
He wanted to be traveling soon.
When he rode back to the fort the Colonel sent for him and he went straight to his headquarters.
"You wanted to see me?" Cully asked as he walked into the office. "I was just about to take off."
"Yes, Cully, look, I couldn't offer an escort, but I've come up with an idea that maybe joining forces with another wagon train would help get the two trains through easier. Especially since you have all women. I think if you stuck together it might be safer in numbers."
Cully didn't like the sound of that. Even though he had all women, he was beginning to get a feel for their abilities and he'd prefer going alone. Still, there was always the fact that there was safety in numbers too. The Colonel had a point and he had to consider it
"Mr. Johnson here has a hundred wagons, mostly family people traveling to Oregon. You could join forces and make the trail together until you break off for California. It seems more reasonable since it would provide more guns and a bigger force against attacks."
"The only drawback being the Indians are friendlier to small trains than big ones. They consider them a real threat."
"I understand that too, but it will be twice the protection too. And they haven't been burning trains yet."
Cully listened but wasn't anxious to join another wagon train. Still, the Colonel made sense and what he wanted was no longer important. The safety of the women was at the top of the list, and he knew he had to compromise, although he held little confidence in Mr. Johnson, together their trains might form a formidable force against any Indian attacks. It made good sense and Cully found himself agreeing to it, quickly.
"Alright, you are probably right."
"Good. Then I'll leave you two gentlemen to discuss the details while I see to a few things myself." The Colonel told them.
Mr. Johnson looked at Cully, they seemed to size each other in a few short seconds. "Excuse me, I could tell by your expression you didn't like the idea, but he's right you know. It might cut down on the stealing and kidnapping too." Johnson managed to say.
"Yeah, I know, that's why I agreed. And it's not a reflection on you or your train. But as you know, a train doesn't do well with two leaders. However, I think we should discuss it and figure out who is going to lead this train. I just hired an Indian Scout this morning, and a couple of men have hired on to help defend the train. I certainly hadn't planned on joining another train, but it does make sense and I agree. The bigger we are, the less hassles we might have with others at least."
"Good. Well, since you've had more experience than I, you should lead the train. The Colonel told me you've had a lot more experience than I have. I won't argue with that, but I want you to take into consideration that I know my people well, and when I tell you something, it is for the betterment of all. I could help manage the wagons and the problems that arise, while you make the decisions and all." Mr. Johnson offered. "After we discuss it, of course."
"Sounds reasonable to me. I can give you some pointers about the rest of the trip you'll be making alone too. Oregon is pretty rugged country, and you'll be doing some hauling and lifting of wagons too."
He gave up his right to lead his own train easily enough, Cully thought. A bit too easily. Was he that unsure of himself, or was there another reason? Nonetheless, he'd agreed to this and now he had to see it through.
Still, Cully could handle the trains, if Johnson could handle his people. "I'd actually appreciate you handling your people and my handling mine. You see, my train is all women."
"All women?" Johnson's brow shot upward. "You're kidding?"
"No sir, I'm not. But I want you to know, these are special women, hardworking, very determined women who want a better life. I'm going to see they get it."
"I see, well of course." Johnson's brow went up just a notch.
"First of all, we'd have to have an understanding, because of that."
"An understanding, what do you mean?"
"No carousing with the women. No drinking on the train. No loaded guns in the wagons. And disposing of our wastes should be done away from the river to prevent disease. We still could be subject to other trains who don't listen to good advice."
Johnson looked a bit surprised at that statement, "Why is that sir?"
Cully stared at the man. Didn't he know?
"So, we don't have a problem with Cholera."
"Cholera" The very word stunned Mr. Johnson. "Oh, I see. I hadn't thought of that."
"Mr. Johnson, how did you come to be a wagon master?"
"I was elected the job when we all met and held a meeting
about the trip. I knew everyone, we got along well, and I agreed. There are a couple of men probably more adept at such a task, but the people all liked me, and would take my orders."
"Have you taken a wagon train before?"
"No, never. I’m sure you could tell that. I'm not trying to hide the fact, Cully. I'm inexperienced as they come, but I do have the sense to advocate the authority to you."
"I was wondering, yes. And I don't know many of your people, I've met a few, and I should hope that we all cooperate to get through this." Cully said. "But since you lack the experience to lead this big a train, I hope you will leave many of the important things to me, as I've done this many times before. And I have just one objective."
"What's that?"
"To get them through, all of them."
Johnson nodded, "I agree. Most of my people are families and we've had no serious problems so far, but we aren't far into the drive yet either. I'll do my best to keep control of problems and things that need immediate attention. I know most of my train personally, so there shouldn't be any big problems there I do have a couple of hot heads who think they know everything, but hopefully they won't give us any grief."
"If there is a problem, I expect you to come to me immediately, so we can work it out together."
"You'll get no argument on that, either. I'd appreciate that. It's a relief to hand over the title of wagon master. I'll admit I have no experience and have been afraid that I could not get them through if there was real trouble."
Cully found it amazing the man had made it this far.
"My women have been practicing with guns to help defend. They are a hardy bunch and can do for themselves most of the time."
"You say you've hired a man as scout?"
"Yes, his name is Hobby, he's half Sioux, half white. He's scouted for several officers here and in Fort Hall, he's experienced, and he speaks their language, he speaks several dialects which will be helpful. I can scout, but I don't know the language, so this will be a big help if they come upon us. And I suggest we try to get along with the Indians, if they want to trade, and we can use it, then to solve the problem we will trade. No shooting unless we tell them to. That should be understood now. We don't want to start an all-out war."
