Trusting Sarah

Sarah glanced at the shadow where she knew Rice slept.

“Ol’ Pete’s been a friend long as I can remember,” Eli continued softly. “If I cut off his legs he might live, but probably not. I ain’t got the heart to do it.”

Sarah didn’t trust her voice. Eli didn’t seem to expect an answer anyway.

* * *

With the first dim light of dawn, Sarah watched the camp come slowly back to life. Eli returned from one of his frequent trips to the supply wagon and made a fresh pot of coffee. Rice awakened and was sent to the creek for wood. Sarah tried to concentrate on breakfast preparations.

Shortly after breakfast, Reverend Fleenor came, but Eli’s scowl discouraged him from asking to see Milburn. He mumbled his concern and hurried away. Sarah watched him try to get a gathering for Sunday service, but several families were slower than usual with their morning chores. Also, the pastor had competition. “What’s going on?” Sarah asked Eli, tilting her head toward a knot of travelers.

Eli studied them with narrowed eyes and grunted. “I reckon they’ll be letting us know soon enough.” He sent Rice for water and went to the supply wagon. Sarah could only wonder if he knew something she didn’t.

She had the first batch of bread mixed when Eli sent her to find Rice. Wiping her hands on her apron, Sarah ran to the creek. Rice barely gave her time to explain before he headed for the wagon.

Sarah returned to camp just as Fleenor started his service. There were fewer attending than the week before. The reverend’s words didn’t carry so well this morning, and Sarah hoped Eli wouldn’t comment on what little they could hear. The other gathering, whose purpose was still a mystery, had grown during the few minutes she had been gone.

At the fire, Eli sat watching this latter group. A deep scowl creased his leather face. He showed no sign of noticing her presence so she didn’t speak. She kneaded the bread, her mind following the words of the hymn.

“Wouldn’t take no more of the laudanum,” Eli said abruptly. “Didn’t want to sleep through what was left of his life.” Eli glanced toward the supply wagon. “I suspect once he’s had his talk with the boy he’ll take some.”

Presently, Rice came out of the wagon, pale and shaken. He seemed to want to say something to Eli, but the old man only clapped him on the shoulder as he hurried past.

Sarah had quit working to watch him, and Rice took it as an invitation to join her. “He says he’s gonna die,” Rice said.

Sarah slowly nodded and turned to her baking. She didn’t want Rice to see how much her heart ached for him.

Rice paced near the wagons, squatting occasionally by the fire or standing close to watch her work. He came to quick attention when Eli climbed out of the supply wagon.

“He’s asleep” was Eli’s reply to their unspoken question. He took the seat he had vacated a few minutes before and went back to staring at the travelers across the camp. When the benediction was pronounced, the group, swelled by a few of the worshipers, made its way toward them, Bull Gaines in the lead.

“Say what ya come to say.” Eli stood like a watchdog prepared to protect its master.

“We’re moving out in the morning.” Gaines put his hands on his hips, and Sarah understood how he got his name.

“But, Bull, I ain’t so sure.” A man tugged at his sleeve.

“Shut up, Herman. You ain’t never been sure about nothin'!”

Herman looked hurt. The poor man was clearly slow-witted. Sarah wondered how he had gotten mixed up with Bull Gaines.

“This wagon ain’t movin’ till I say so,” said Eli.

“I don’t care about that wagon. It’s mine I’m thinkin’ of. And these folks’, too,” he added as an afterthought.

Eli spoke to the crowd instead of to Bull. “Ya all paid yer money for a guide west. In a day or so, River’ll catch up. He’ll guide ya on. Ain’t no need to go strikin’ out on yer own.”

“Well, I ain’t worried about a guide.” Bull raised his voice. “It’s the time we’re wasting that worries me. That man could linger for weeks. We gonna sit here that long?”

A murmur rose from the crowd.

“It won’t be weeks,” Eli said. “But if it is, we’ll sit.”

The murmur grew louder, and Bull smirked. “You’d risk trapping us in the mountains rather than pull out? Now that don’t make sense. A lot of trains elect their own captains and travel without a guide. Just give back the money to those of us what want to pull out.”

“Can’t,” said Eli. “It’s been spent on extra supplies.” Everyone but Eli glanced at the crates scattered haphazardly around the supply wagon. “Ya wanna take yer money in supplies, won’t bother me to see ya go.” He stalked to the back of the lead wagon, removing a metal box. Setting it on a stack of crates, he unlocked and opened it. He lifted out Milburn’s book, found the page and scowled at the crowd. Several people looked away, unwilling to be the first to abandon the train.

Bull Gaines hesitated only a moment. “You’d overload our wagons with supplies we don’t need. I want mine in cash.”

Eli’s scowl deepened. With a muttered oath, he lifted a leather wallet from the box. “It’s my own savings, but it’s worth it to get rid of ya,” he said.

While Gaines pocketed the money, another man took a place behind him and a line formed, most willing to take their pay in blankets, flour and the like. Gaines approached Sarah. “You best come with me, missy,” he said. Sarah was too startled to speak. He took it as indecision. “That’s Herman and my nephew.” He indicated his companions at the edge of the crowd. “You’d be safer with us than that old man and his dying friend.”

“No,” Sarah said, barely able to find her voice.

Bull grinned, stepping closer. “You wanna come but can’t say so in front of the boss’s boy.” He touched her cheek with his rough knuckles. “You’ll wish you’d spoke up.”

Sarah drew away, but Gaines only laughed and joined his friends. Sarah wiped at her cheek with her apron.

* * *

The next morning, Rice pointed to each of the wagons scattered on the prairie. “That’s the preacher fella, Fleenor,” he began, “and you know Tom Williams and his family. That one way out there’s the Hess family.” Rice indicated the wagon with the broken wheel. “And next to it is Old Man Daugherty and his wife.” His eyes seemed to brighten as he came to the last wagon. “Them’s the von Schiller family. They don’t hardly speak no English, but the girls are learning a little.”

Sarah smiled ruefully, realizing it was Rice’s version of English they were learning. Even from this distance, Sarah could see that the girls were young women. Rice waved and beamed when the girls waved back.

“Any change?” Sarah asked when Eli joined them.

Eli shook his head. “Tell the folks to bring the wagons in,” he said to Rice. “Let’s make a circle again. And count the men. We need to set up guards for the stock.”

“Yes, sir,” Rice murmured and started away.

“Rice—” Eli stopped him “—find out who has a jack. We still got a wagon to fix.”

Sarah saw Rice hesitate before turning to do as he was told.

The day seemed to go on forever. Sarah divided her time between what mending or cooking tasks she could think of and watching the crippled wagon through the gap in the shrunken circle. She checked on Milburn often, but he was always asleep.

By midafternoon the Hess wagon was hitched and pulled into the circle with the rest. Sarah relaxed a little, realizing she had been worried someone else would get hurt.

Sarah fixed supper for the three of them, which they ate without comment. When the dishes were put away, she decided to turn in. Eli was with Milburn, and she was sure he wouldn’t let her take his place.

She slept with the wagon flap tied open and her head where she could see the stars. Some small sound awakened her. She stuck her head out the wagon and saw Eli sitting near the fire, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He heard her behind him and straightened, waiting until she had found a place to sit before he spoke, then he simply said, “He’s gone.”

* * *

The next morning, Sarah repacked the supply wagon. Tom Williams had lifted the heaviest crates to the tailboard while Rice and Eli finished at the grave. They had had a simple service at dawn and everyone was eager to pull out.

Sarah was trying to remember all of Eli’s rules for loading a wagon when she heard Rice shout. Leaning out of the wagon, she saw a rider coming and Rice waving at him excitedly. The white-and-brown horse picked up speed until it was running directly for the boy, the space between them shrinking at an alarming pace. The fringe on the rider’s buckskin jacket danced to the rhythm of the horse’s gait. In seconds, Rice caught the man’s arm, leaping up behind him, and they galloped away.

Sarah put her hand to her heart to try to slow its rapid beating as the horse and riders made a wide circle in the prairie. In a short time, the horse was walking toward the wagons. This, she decided, must be River.

She had just finished the packing when she heard Eli’s voice. “So I give ‘em supplies in place of their money and promised the ones what stayed that ya’d lead the wagons.”

“You promised them what?” came the reply, and Sarah jumped.

“I woulda promised to do it myself, but I’m an old man, River. Nobody’s gonna listen to me,” Eli replied.

“You’re no older than Milburn.”

“Don’t matter. They’ll trust ya.”

“They don’t even know me.”

Eli’s voice changed slightly. “It was his last wish.”

“It was what!”

Sarah didn’t hear the rest; the blood pounding in her ears had reached a pitch that drowned out the voices. She had turned hot, then cold, and found herself sitting on one of the crates. Her hands were shaking, and she clasped them tightly in her lap. She had to calm down and listen; she must be sure.

Carefully, she moved to the back of the wagon. Holding her breath, she pulled the canvas aside. Eli and River walked past as they talked. The two men stopped and turned to face each other. River was a full head taller than Eli. His hat was encircled by a snakeskin, as Rice had mentioned, with a menacing rattle dangling over the edge of the brim. Long muscular legs were encased in brown twill trousers that disappeared into the tops of knee-high boots. A sheath stitched onto the thigh of the pants held a bone-handled knife. Sarah almost laughed in relief. Her mind was playing tricks on her.

“I’ll bring in the Carroll wagons,” River said.

“We’ll be ready to pull on out when you get back.”

The men shook hands, and River turned in her direction. She jumped back, pressing her face against the cool wagon cover. She hadn’t been mistaken! The new arrival was Daniel!

Sarah waited until Daniel had ridden away before daring to venture out of the wagon. It would only delay the inevitable, but she didn’t want him to see her. How could she have thought she had escaped her past?

But how could she have imagined Daniel Harrison on this train? Rice’s talk of River hadn’t sounded anything like Daniel. And why was he using this strange name?

She finished the preparations for travel out of habit, aware only of the fact that Daniel was here. She realized she wanted desperately to see him but at the same time she was terrified. She had gone back to Albany after her release to talk to him, but that was before she had put her past behind her. Nobody here knew anything about her, and she had thought she was safe. Now Daniel was here, and he would ruin everything.

She climbed onto the wagon seat and donned the sunbonnet. She usually went without it as long as the wagon cover offered her shade. If Rice noticed anything unusual, he didn’t mention it. But he was wrapped up in his own thoughts about Milburn’s death and River’s arrival. Daniel’s arrival.

She sighed. What was she going to do? Could she go to him and beg him to keep quiet? Six years ago he hadn’t given her a chance to explain, let alone beg. Why should she expect things to be different now?

She imagined a desperate escape from the train, but here in the middle of nowhere, that was pure foolishness. Rescue by another train would lead to more questions than she could expect from this one.

Rice leaned over the side of the wagon to look behind him. “Here comes River!” he called, straightening in the seat without noticing Sarah jump. “I can call him over so you can meet him.”

“No,” Sarah said too quickly. “He’s busy. I can meet him tonight.”

Sarah watched him gallop past and pull up beside Eli’s wagon. A moment later it started forward. Daniel wheeled the horse and galloped toward the two new wagons. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as Rice called to his team, and they started after Eli. She had been afraid Daniel would come to talk to Rice, but she had been right, he was busy. She could postpone for a little longer the meeting and the painful scene that would follow.

In truth, she had no choice. She had to accept the fact that her charade was over. She would have to live with the shame the truth would cause. But Daniel hadn’t seen her yet. He had ridden away and given her one more day to enjoy her friendship with Rice before that, too, was over.

Chapter Three

River rode away from the wagons to the little rise where he had watched the funeral. He hadn’t known then that it was his friend being buried, that the seven wagons were all that was left of Milburn’s train.

Now he watched the circle of wagons work its way into a straight line, move back onto what the army called a road and head out once again, toward Fort Kearny. The Carroll and Ortman wagons came toward the others and neatly added themselves to the end of the train. That was the first time those two had managed to do anything right.

Dr. Carroll and his brother-in-law had shown up in Leavenworth the night before Milburn had pulled out. Both men and the doctor’s wife had marched right into the saloon to find him, scaring away the girl he had been talking to. When he thought of Prudence Carroll, he wondered why he hadn’t run, himself. She was large and imposing, her eyes condemning him for being where he was, even though she was in the place, too.

Her brother, Ernest Ortman, was tall and as skinny as she was fat. He had tried to match his sister’s glower, but that was a tall order. Dr. Carroll was plain and quiet, everything about him seemed average, at least in contrast to the company he kept.

River would have gladly turned them over to Milburn if they hadn’t been the worst-prepared emigrants he hoped he would ever see. He had spent an entire day helping them buy their supplies, while Ernest Ortman argued with every statement he made. In spite of his good intentions, everything he said or did offended Prudence and Ernest.

“Damn,” he muttered, and the pinto twitched its ears. “I was really looking forward to turning those folks over to Milburn.”

River rode down as the dust settled on the abandoned camp and grave. No marker, he thought. And nobody here to visit it on Sundays. Why mark what no one’s ever going to try to find?

He dismounted at the site. Eli had carefully replaced the sod so it barely looked like a grave. A few of the wagons had even rolled across it, further obscuring its presence. There would be no Indians digging up this grave for clothes.

“Sorry I wasn’t here, boss,” he said, playing with the reins in his hands. “Sure hate to think of you going like that.” He pressed a loose piece of sod into place with a booted toe and looked across the prairie at the receding wagons. “But that was one dirty trick, leaving me in charge. I’m a good scout but a sorry captain.”

* * *

Sarah went about the meal preparations, telling herself she should feel lucky for every minute but knowing the waiting was making her tense and jumpy. Eli had startled her twice, though that had happened often enough before tonight.

“If ya’d take off that silly bonnet, a body couldn’t sneak up on ya so easy,” he had said the last time.

But she didn’t want to take it off. She wore it until the sun was sinking beneath the horizon and she could no longer claim she needed it for shade. Finally, she tossed it into the wagon, glad to be free of it but missing the illusion of safety it had given her.

She set out the last of the dishes and tried to come to a decision. She could plead an upset stomach and refuse supper. It was tempting to go to bed, but she slept in the wagon where all the dishes were kept and the tailboard served as a table. Perhaps she could visit Martha and Amy, tell Eli she had been asked to watch the children for a while.

That seemed like her best choice, and she decided to tell Eli at once. She spun around and gasped. There he stood, leaning against the supply wagon, watching her. His arms were folded across his chest, his hat pushed to the back of his head. One ankle had been casually thrown across the other. He had been there long enough to make himself comfortable.

The sight of him did alarming things to her pulse. He startled me! she thought, but deep inside, she knew it was more than that.

While Sarah was still trying to catch her breath, he spoke. “Sarah Tanton.” It wasn’t a question.

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She took a step backward and steadied herself against the tailboard. It was Daniel, but he looked so different. Maybe it was the buckskin jacket, but his shoulders seemed broader than she remembered. His dark blond hair was longer and sun-streaked. In spite of a few days’ growth of sandy beard, he was at least as handsome as he had been six years ago. It seemed a most inappropriate thought. She tried to ignore it and continue her study of this familiar stranger.

Six years had added some lines at the corners of his eyes, and the sun had darkened his skin, but little else had changed. No, the biggest differences she could find were his clothes and this unusual name, River.

His blue eyes, which she had so often seen dance with mischief, watched her curiously. She still hadn’t found her voice. Her mind seemed to want her to gaze at him forever.

“Rice has been telling me a lot about you,” he said. He pushed away from the wagon and closed the distance between them. She leaned back, bending over the tailboard as he grew nearer, too confused to think of stepping out of his way. He stopped mere inches from her.

“You’re the last person I ever expected to see,” he said in a low voice. “I’d like to know how you managed to be here. But we’ll talk some other time.” He reached around her, lifted a plate from the stack and turned to go.

“Daniel.” She barely breathed his name.

He faced her again. What had she wanted to say? That he was wrong about her? That she could explain? That she still loved him and was ready to forgive him? In the end, she said nothing, and he walked away.

It was then she discovered Eli watching her. She had been so intent on Daniel she had not seen him. Perhaps Daniel had. Had his whispered comment meant he would give her a chance to talk this time? Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps he hadn’t yet said anything to Rice or the others. Could it be that Daniel didn’t want his friends knowing about their former association any more than she did?

She realized she had been staring at Eli without seeing him. He looked from her to Daniel and back, and Sarah quickly turned away. She wanted to run, but Rice was beside her.

“Did you meet River?” he asked cheerfully, grabbing two plates and shoving one into Sarah’s hands. “What’s to eat? I’m starved.” He headed toward Eli and the cooking pot, and Sarah didn’t know what to do but follow. She filled her plate, sitting a little away from the others.

“How far are we from Fort Kearny?” Rice asked, finding a place close to River and to the food.

“Around a hundred twenty...maybe forty miles,” answered River, smiling at the boy. “Take about a week, I think.”

“There’s a little store near here. That right, River?” Rice glanced at Sarah to see if she was listening. She smiled to let him know she was impressed by his knowledge.

“At the Cottonwood Creek crossing. At least it was there last year. We ought to be going by sometime in the morning.”

“We gonna stop?”

Eli leaned to the side, making a big show of looking at the side of Rice’s leg. The boy looked at Eli, down at his pants and back at Eli. “What?”

“Don’t see no smoke, but them coins von Schiller give ya must be gettin’ mighty hot by now.”

River laughed. The sound brought back so many memories, Sarah found herself staring at him again. It was hard not to picture the same handsome face in different surroundings, different circumstances.

River turned his easy smile on Rice and said, “Some of the folks will need things, and the rest’ll want to see what it’s like. I reckon we’ll stop.”

“I reckon” was not something Sarah would have expected Daniel to say. Maybe the changes went deeper than she had first thought. Of course they did, she realized, if the reckless storekeeper was now a respected scout. He caught her watching him, and she looked quickly at her plate.

“I’m taking the first watch,” he said. “Thanks for dinner.” He carried his plate to the tailboard and walked away without another glance in Sarah’s direction.

She tried not to gaze after him; she needed to act as if nothing were amiss. Rising to scrape her half-finished plate of food into the fire, she noticed Eli studying her. He would start asking questions if she continued like this, and until things were settled between her and Daniel, she wouldn’t be able to relax. She would have to talk to Daniel tonight.

* * *

River tried to make himself comfortable. The most he could hope for on guard duty was something to lean against, and he had found it tonight in the form of a boulder on a hillside. From here he could look down on both the train and the herd of cattle a short distance away. The horses were picketed near the wagons. He cradled the rifle in his arms and watched the sky darken until all he could make out of the train was the silhouette against a few flickering fires.

How in all the world did she end up out here, on my train? he asked himself. Could she have wanted to find me?

When Rice had first mentioned her name, he had been surprised but honestly thought he didn’t care. She could do whatever she pleased as long as she stayed away from him. But seeing her had changed that. There were too many memories between them and the wounds weren’t as healed as he had thought.

Damn her! What can she want now? Her frightened little-girl act wasn’t going to fool him. He knew her! She had used him, betrayed him! What was she planning now?

River laughed at himself. What could she do on this train that could possibly compare with what she had done six years ago? Since then, he had tried not to think about Sarah Tanton. As he sat in the lonely meadow, he let the memories come back. He told himself he had to remember so he would be prepared for what she did next, but he knew he couldn’t have stopped the memories if he had tried.

Six years ago, he had been working for his father. Sarah was a local girl he had known all his life. He smiled slightly at the memory. She had been a little wild but lots of fun. His folks hadn’t liked her, but mostly he had done what he pleased in those days.

He couldn’t even remember which of his father’s many enterprises had generated the money that was to be in the store overnight. It had arrived in town on Sunday, and rather than calling attention to it by asking the bank to open, the old man decided to keep it in the store until Monday morning. He often had someone stay at the store at night, so a guard on duty didn’t seem unusual. Hardly anyone knew about the money. But River had known, and he had told Sarah.

River shook his head as he remembered. He had wanted to impress her. As if she had been hard to impress! He had been a complete fool, and she had used the information to rob his father.

Damn her! If anyone else had claimed to have seen her running from the scene, he would have called him a liar and stood by his Sarah to the end. His Sarah? Honest to God, that was how he had thought of her. But he had been the one and only witness, and he had found no choice but to turn her in. How could he help but recognize her? She had even been wearing the red dress he had bought for her.