One True Love (7 page)

He turned to leave, and then slowly turned back. “Regretfully, I hate to ruin the mood, but I have something I need to say and I don't want you flying off the handle. Agreed?”

She stiffened. And they were getting along so well. “What?”

“Agreed?”

“Agreed—within limits.”

“Don't be spreading any more rumors or speculations about my correspondence.”

She was quite certain that if a face could physically hit the ground, hers would have at that moment. “Why…I…” She was sputtering and she knew it. Who'd told on her? Nellie? Well, woe to her if she ever mentioned another word around that nosy body.

“Look.” His tone gentled even more. “I'm not getting on you, I'm just asking that you don't be speculating about things you know nothing about. Do we have an agreement?”

She nodded, embarrassed speechless. Mortified. He was right. She'd had no call to theorize about his personal life.

“Hey.” He tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “I'm not angry with you. I just happen to be a private man who doesn't like speculation. Rumors can turn ugly and mean and innocent folks can get hurt.”

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “Of course you're right, and I was out of place.” It would be of no value to explain her
motive, though chances were Josh knew Sadie's expectations and had decided long ago to ignore the matter.

Why hadn't she been as wise?

 

That night the rain moved in. Copper lay on her pallet listening first to the thunder and lightning, and then the downpour as it lashed the canvas. For some reason the laudanum was not easing the pain much this time, and she prayed for the hazy spell the drug normally produced.

Her thoughts drifted to Josh Redlin. He wasn't so bad—good conversationalist, knowledgeable, and he certainly knew his job. The antelope had made a wonderful supper, and later some men had taken the remains to the way station to share among the soldiers.

All in all, it had been a good day—maybe even a fine day. Soon she would know her fate, and as Josh had said, she was strong, strong enough to accept whatever God sent her way.

She only wished she was as certain of her inner strength as he seemed to be.

H
eavy rain couldn't disguise the sound of bawling cattle and braying jackasses.

An hour before dawn, the mules woke the whole camp. Sitting up, Copper blinked back sleep, trying to focus.

Adele rolled to her side and pulled the blanket over her head. “Stock's back.”

Falling back to her pillow, Copper sighed. All that worry over nothing. When would she learn to trust Josh's word? He hadn't been wrong yet.

Breakfast was last night's fare. The travelers huddled against a blowing rain and ate in silence. Redlin led the daily devotions, and compared travel ordeals to the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. He pointed out that their forty-year wanderings were due to the fact that they had disobeyed God, but that in his love he continued to provide manna and quail for them anyway. Though conditions weren't ideal, God would provide the needed strength to reach their destination if they kept the faith.

Services ended, and the travelers headed to their rigs. At exactly eight o'clock, the party pulled out. The back wheels of Adele's wagons were stuck and it took her and Sadie and three other good-sized men ten minutes to break the rig loose and catch up.

Copper waved to the post soldiers as the prairie schooners and Conestogas rumbled past. Mike and Doug rode ahead of Redlin and Richardson. They would decide the campground for that night.

“Sort of reminds me of Thunder Ridge,” Adele called above the creaking of rotating wheels and pouring rain.

Copper nodded. Her thoughts were also with Willow and Audrey. They would be dressing for church services, decked in their best. Reverend Cordell would preach, Willow would play the new organ, and then they'd go home to a hot dinner of fried chicken and cornbread. Homesickness swept through her like an ice storm. She shuddered.

Adele glanced over. “Cold?”

Last night's weather front brought not only rain, but a bone-rattling wind. It was a miserable time to be traveling. She huddled deeper into the warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “No, just homesick.”

“A terrible thing.” Adele clucked to the team. “Just know that family and friends are thinking of you too.”

Remembering wasn't the problem; memories were the source of her misery.

Noon meal was eaten in wagons. Rain fell in buckets, and Copper had sent word down the line there'd be no lesson today.

Late afternoon, she slipped into a slicker and eased up front to sit on the driver's bench and visit with Sadie, who now
manned the two-horse team. Some rigs had four animals; some had only two to pull the load. Adele had mentioned that this train had stock problems. Many families started out with a two-horse team and a wagon too heavily loaded. Long before the train had reached Thunder Ridge many had been forced to jettison furniture and other heavy objects. Adele said that if the trail got really muddy Redlin would have to temporarily hitch part of his stock to some of the wagons to help keep the train moving.

That afternoon, Copper turned on her seat to peer back at the terrain. Today their rig was one of the last because of their late start.

“That's the third time you've craned your neck like that. What are you looking for? Indians?”

“No. There's another wagon train following us. Has been all day.”

Sadie whistled to the team. “I've had my eye on 'em.”

“Who are they?” And why were they following so close? Soldiers had stopped Redlin's train a couple of times and asked him to add a small group of travelers. In Indian country there was safety in numbers and the military would not allow a small train to travel alone. He had never been pleased with the arrangement, but he was not willing to contribute to the death of any of them. Besides, the soldiers had not really given him any choice. And, so far, none of the newcomers had been any trouble, the train was just getting bigger.

“Don't know. They must know where the checkpoints are and they're avoiding them. Not a smart thing to do.”

“Why
would
anyone do that? Aren't they concerned about their welfare?”

She shrugged. “Folks are strange. Some don't want to bother with guard duty or the discipline of a larger group.”

Independent. Do as they pleased. Copper related, but this trip had changed her mind about self-reliance. Independence was a good thing, but having your scalp still attached at the end of the day was better. She reached for the notepad she kept handy and jotted down thoughts for future lessons.

By late afternoon the rain let up and a cold sun peeked out while they were making camp. Most ate and went straight to bed, plain worn out from fighting the elements all day.

Copper wrote in her journal about the date's events, and the strange wagon train following so close. It seemed the laudanum was taking longer and longer to work each evening.

She hurriedly struck the last thought.

The weather evened out, and by mid-morning the following day Copper peeled out of her heavy shawl. The sycamores and cottonwoods were turning brown. Overnight, it seemed, the rain and cooler temperatures had started the annual fall ritual. She remembered God's promise to Noah after the flood that the seasons of the year would never cease. It seemed a little sad that the leaves reached their greatest glory only in their death.

She whirled when Redlin rode up beside their wagon. Tipping his hat, he smiled. “Morning, ladies.”

Sadie broke into a wreath of smiles. “Morning, Redlin.”

Josh's eye skimmed Copper. “How are you this fine day?”

“Breathing, thank you. Are we nearly there?”

“Yep.” He winked. “We ford the river tomorrow, and Fort Riceson's another day's ride.” Assessing the blue sky, he smiled. “Looks like the rain is over.” Kicking the horse into a gallop, he rode away before she could ask him if he'd noticed they had company. Four wagons following half a mile behind.

“Sadie? You think he knows about those wagons?”

Sadie laughed. “He knows.”

“Did you tell him?”

She shook her head. “No ma'am, don't need to. He knows.”

Copper hoped that she knew what she was talking about. She knew nothing about wagon travel other than what she'd recently encountered, but she was sure that four unidentified wagons following on their heels could spell trouble.

Maybe big trouble.

 

After supper, Copper made her way to the creek where the men were shooting. She moved far enough downstream to take a brisk sponge bath before she emerged from the willows growing along the bank. Thankfully, the shooting session was over and the men were packing up to leave. She approached Josh as he picked up the Henry and a double-barrel shotgun and started off.

“Josh?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“May I have a word?”

He reversed his steps and approached. “What can I do for you?”

“There are four wagons following us—have been for the past two days.”

He nodded.

“You've seen them?”

He indicated a fallen log. “Sit down.”

“I don't want to sit. I've been sitting all day.”

“Don't make me pick you up and put you on that log. I've had a long day, and I'm in no mood to argue.”

She sank to the log.

Propping the guns on a nearby stump, he then sat down beside her, answering her question. “I don't know who they are. I thought they might break away sometime today and travel in a different direction, but so far they haven't. The river's up some from the heavy rain; could be they're hanging around, hoping to cross with us.”

“Well, that hardly seems fair. Crossing with us would mean managing four more wagons and their stock, which seems to be plentiful. And more important, extra wagons would only slow us more.”

“I'm going to talk to them before we pull out in the morning.”

“Talk indeed. You order them to stay back, observe proper etiquette.” The very nerve of people, crowding in where they weren't invited.

“Yes. I'll be sure and use those exact words.”

She glanced over, ignoring his jest. “You will not. You have no trouble speaking your mind with me, but when it comes to others you're too courteous. I'll go with you.”

He shook his head, looking away, but it was only too clear that he agreed because he was laughing at her. She could see his shoulders heave.

She narrowed her eyes.

He threw up his hands. “Okay, I'll be a barbarian. I'll ride in with guns blazing and arrows flying. I'll scalp a couple of women, shoot a few horses, and prove that I mean business.”

He would do no such thing. He would ask them their business, and then ask them to keep proper distance from his train. If those folks were bold enough to follow for two days, his words would fall on deaf ears. “I'm going with you.”

He sobered. “You are not.”

“Yes I am. I know you. You'll be all nicety nice and they'll still be following us in the morning, and when we get to the river you'll feel obligated to let them cross with us, which, may I remind you, will delay us for who knows how long? We added two more wagons at the last checkpoint.” She altered her tone to civil when she realized her objection had turned stringent. “Don't you care that I'm in awful pain, and if we dally too long I might suffer permanent consequences of your error in judgment?”

He reached over and traced a finger along her jawline, then touched her cheek. His gaze softened. “Of course I care. I know you put up a good front, but Adele keeps me informed on your condition. I know that you're never out of pain, that the medicine takes longer to work now. I know about the night sweats and the nightmares, and I know about your fears. I'm doing the best I can to get you to the fort as quickly as I can. We're close. Just hang on for another few days and trust me.”

She blinked back tears. She hated it when he was kind. It made her like him, really like him. And she didn't want to like him, didn't want to consider the sort of upheaval that such a “like” might add to her life. Somewhere a woman in Dallas named Susan waited for him. Was she important to him—important in a forever kind of way? She had no way of knowing, and why would she entertain the idea that her feelings would matter to Redlin? He was all man, and she could very likely be a cripple the rest of her life. Every moment's delay brought her closer to that very real possibility, and what man would want a cripple for…She couldn't finish the senseless thought.

“I'm going with you,” she repeated in a tone far more docile than her intentions. Nobody told Redlin what to do; not even Copper Wilson. But she decided she could have Sadie or Adele saddle a horse and take her to the trailing wagons if Redlin refused. She would get up before sunrise and be there and back before Josh rolled out of bed. After all, it was her welfare at stake, not his.

Josh met her defiant look. “You're not going. Richardson will ride out with me. We don't know who's in those wagons or their purpose.”

“I'm going. Like I said, you won't be firm enough. I'll show them my ankle, and if they're decent folk they'll know we don't have time to get them across the river. They'll just have to wait their turn to join up with another train. Apparently they've decided to avoid the military and travel alone, so they'll have to face the consequences of their actions.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “We don't know their purpose, and you're not going.”

She took a deep breath. “The only way you can stop me is to shoot the horse out from under me, and you wouldn't do that to good stock.” She'd seen him with animals. She remembered how he had treated a jackass's ankle when most men would have disposed of the animal.

“Don't be so sure. I might not value the animal if something or someone is on it, refusing to listen to me.”

She sighed and reached for the crutches. “Good evening, Mr. Redlin.”

“Sleep tight, Miss Wilson. And bury this thought in your mind. Deep. You're not to go near those wagons.”

Let him think what he liked. He wasn't about to become a cripple. He didn't live with the pain day in and day out.

Come morning, she was getting to those wagons if she had to crawl.