Laura was bursting with excitement. She relived each precious second she had spent with Buck the night before. She longed to include Tucker in her happiness but restrained herself. In the strange, unhappy mood Tucker was in, she might say something Laura didn’t want to hear. So she decided to keep the precious secret to herself for just a little longer.
It was midafternoon when Frank rode up beside the wagon. Tucker looked up and there he was. He rode alongside, not saying anything, but staring at her with an intensity that sent a cold chill along her spine. After the first glance, she refused to look at him. And Laura, knowing someone was there, remained silent.
All afternoon Tucker had been careful to keep the heads of the mules as close as possible to the wagon ahead. Ordinarily two or three wagon lengths were
maintained between wagons, sometimes as much as two hundred feet if it was dusty. She sat, ramrod stiff, refusing to acknowledge the man riding so close beside the wagon.
She didn’t know which realization came first: the fact that Frank’s horse had backed off and was no longer beside her, or that Lucas and Buck were riding toward them. Laura’s keen ears picked up the sound of the approaching horses.
“Who was that riding beside us? And who’s coming now?”
“It was the scout from the other train,” Tucker said lightly as if it didn’t matter. “And Buck and Lucas are coming this way.”
“I hope they stop.”
“So do I,” Tucker said, and she’d never meant anything as much in her life.
“What are you trying to do, put those mules into Lottie’s wagon?” Lucas’s words were teasing but so close to the truth that Tucker had a hard time retaining her smile.
Buck maneuvered his horse around to come up beside Laura.
“Come ride with me, Laura. The land is flat and it isn’t too hot.”
“I’d love to ride on Dolorido. First let me put Blue in his box. When he’s not eating, he’s sleeping.”
Tucker feigned composure so Lucas wouldn’t suspect her fear of being left alone. He was watching her closely. Oh, God, she thought. He thinks I don’t want Laura to be with Buck! If only I could tell him that I
just don’t want to be alone back here near that awful man!
“Reckon there’s room for me on that seat, teacher? I’ll drive the team for a while and give you a rest.”
Tucker pulled the team to a halt long enough for Buck to lift Laura from the wagon and seat her across his lap, and for Lucas to tie his mount to the end of the wagon and climb up onto the seat beside her. When they were moving once again Lucas held the reins, and what was otherwise a miserable day was suddenly brighter. He slowed the mules and allowed a distance between them and the wagon ahead. It didn’t matter to Tucker now.
“How are you, Tucker Red?”
“Fine.”
“Is that all you can say? Fine?”
“Wonderful. Now,” she said with her joyful heart shining in her eyes.
“That’s my girl.” His face broke into a smile and the creases she loved appeared on each side of his mouth. Then he became thoughtful. “You look tired, and you’ve got dark smudges under your eyes that haven’t been there before. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well last night. You know, after all the excitement of Laura and Billy almost getting killed by the bull, and poor Mr. Blanchet getting hurt, and finding out Marie was a doctor.”
“Sure that’s all it is? Sure it isn’t Laura and Buck?”
Tucker’s lips tightened stubbornly, giving her an
air of cool aloofness. “I don’t think Laura will listen to anything I say about that now.”
“Buck wants to marry Laura.” He said it simply and quickly. Tucker drew in a quick breath.
“I never thought about him wanting to marry her,” she admitted slowly. “I know he likes her a lot. He didn’t make any bones about that yesterday.”
“He not only likes her, he loves her. He wants to marry her and take care of her for the rest of her life, just as I want to take care of you.”
Tucker was silent for a long while. “Laura is young and beautiful and . . . untouched. I can see how Buck would fall in love with her, but after a while he may get tired of having a blind wife to lead around.”
“Are you sure you’re not against this because Buck has Indian blood?” He was staring out over the empty plains.
She was shaken by his words because they were so close to the truth—not of a personal prejudice, but of the facts of life. “In Arkansas half-breeds don’t mix with whites, they mix with Indians. I don’t know how it is in California. I’ve got to be honest, Lucas, I’m worried about Laura’s future with Buck.”
Lucas slapped the reins against the mules’ backs before he spoke. “They don’t mix with whites in California, either,” he said sadly. “Rather, they don’t mix with some whites, and Buck’s grandfather was one of them. He’s a stubborn old Dane who came out on a trading vessel many years ago, got a grant from the Mexican government, and improved on his land. His only child, a daughter, fell in love with a
half-breed and ran away with him. When the old man found them, she was pregnant with Buck. As soon as the child was born, he was put with a Mexican family to raise. Buck is one-quarter Indian, not even half.” He paused as if to emphasize the statement. “For many years the old man refused to have him on the ranch, but allowed him to go to the convent school to be educated. At the school Buck realized what he was and that he was considered an Indian. So he went to the mountains to live with them. It was there that my father and I met him.”
“His mother didn’t want him?”
Lucas shrugged. “If she did, she didn’t have the courage to stand up to the old man.”
“What happened to his father?”
“Buck doesn’t know, but he suspects he was shanghaied and sent off to some foreign place.”
“Is his grandfather still living?”
“He was when we left California. He sent for Buck just before we left, but Buck refused to go to him.”
“And his mother?”
“I don’t know if she’s still living or not. A few years back I went with Buck to the ranch and waited while he rode up to the house to see her. He was gone for about a half hour.”
“And?”
“He never said a word and I didn’t ask.”
Tucker’s thoughts whirled in confusion. She couldn’t allow her sympathy for Buck to cloud her
judgment as to whether or not he was right for Laura. “Where will they live?” she asked after a while.
“Buck wants to find a good place and build a little ranch. We both do. It’ll take a lot of hard work and there’ll be lean years, hard years, but I figure we’ll make out. Are you afraid of that, Tucker? I never figured on living in a town.”
“I want to be wherever you are, Lucas,” she answered quietly.
“Don’t you think Laura feels the same about Buck?” he asked gently.
“I guess so. No, I know so, but that doesn’t mean he’s the best man for her,” she said stubbornly.
The afternoon wore on. Enormous white clouds piled high overhead and rode along on the high winds from the south, making patches of shade race below them to give welcome relief from the bright glare of the sun. The land rolled gently, barely enough to make a difference, and at times one could see for miles.
“I wish you could ride with me every day,” Tucker said wistfully.
“You’d soon get tired of my company.”
“I could always start an argument,” she teased.
Lucas chuckled. “We had plenty of those when we first met. I thought you were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen—and the contrariest. I still think you’re pretty.”
She reached over and pinched his arm. He captured her fingers.
“I wonder what those mules would do if I kissed you.”
“They’re not even looking this way, silly.”
He planted a lingering kiss on her lips, and she let her head rest on his shoulder.
Much later, when she saw Buck bringing Laura back to the wagon, she said, “I wish we didn’t have to be back here at the end of the line.”
Lucas glanced at her quizzically, but said nothing for a while. “Tonight when we circle, you pull up and I’ll have Mustang change places with you.”
“Won’t that be a little too obvious?”
“Who in the hell cares.”
* * *
The week it took the train to reach Fort Stockton was the longest, most miserable week of Tucker’s life. Always conscious when Frank’s eyes were on her, she was careful never to be alone, and she went into the bushes with Lottie, Marie, or some of the other women to relieve herself. When it came time to eat, her tight throat almost refused to allow the food to pass. She lost weight. The britches she had made were now hanging on her slender hips, and she tied a sash about her waist to hold them up.
Laura, on the other hand, was blooming. The winds and the weather had sharpened her simple beauty, aroused her senses, and her love for Buck had transformed her from a girl into a woman with all the natural womanly desires. He came each evening to sit with her for a short while, and Tucker took this time
to write in the journal, knowing Frank Parcher would keep his distance as long as Buck was there.
Fort Stockton was like an oasis in the desert. The wagon train came off the hot, dusty plains and stopped beneath a cool, thick canopy of oak trees. That evening Buck took Laura for a walk, and Tucker took her journal to the cook wagon and made her entry by the light of the cook fire.
May 18.
We have been on the trail a little over a month, and late this evening we reached Fort Stockton. The fort is built of limestone and adobe and was opened in March of this year, 1859. There is a large flowing spring here, according to Sergeant Malone. It is the only one for hundreds of miles. The Comanches have always considered this their territory, and I can’t help but feel a little sad for them that they are no longer free to come and go from this place. When we pull out of here, we will be on our own. Captain Doyle and his men will be stationed here permanently. We will be traveling the stagecoach road and from time to time will pass the lonely stage stations. I wish to God we knew what lay ahead.
* * *
Lucas had plenty to worry about. He had been able to find only three men whom he considered suitable to sign on for the trip west; he needed four. The mules he’d traded for were not as young as he would
have liked them to be. Otis Collins was pestering him to stay over a few days at the fort, and Marie Hook had told him Blanchet was running a fever.
Behind all this was the knowledge that Tucker was not the same spirited girl who had come in on the Fort Worth stage with a defiant gleam in her eye and her chin tilted in stubborn resistance. She insisted she wasn’t sick, but he’d noticed that she ate very little and that her features were becoming more sharply etched due to weight loss. The green eyes he’d found himself languishing in were no longer bright, and her soft, ripe lips that he ached to taste with his own quivered with a forced smile.
Could it be she was having conflicting thoughts about joining her life to his? Could it be she was sorry she had been so hasty in declaring her love? She seemed to be reconciled to Laura’s marrying Buck, even glad at times, so that couldn’t be what was bothering her. He would have to give her more rein, he decided, make it easier for her if she wanted to back out of her promise to marry him. But, oh, God, he thought, don’t let that be what’s eating at her! First things first, he told himself sternly. Right now I’ve got to get this train moving.
Mustang, with Lottie’s help, was stacking the new supplies in the freight wagon. Lucas started his tour of inspection there.
“Did you get what you needed, Mustang?”
Lottie answered. “Yup. We bought up the last of the dried peaches ’n apples. You shoulda seed that
critter’s eyes pop when Mustang dangled the silver afore ’is face.”
“That right, Mustang?”
Mustang spat into the dust. Before he could speak, Lottie did. “Yup, that’s right.”
“If you need more help in getting the wheels greased, Mustang, sing out.”
“He ain’t never goin’ to git nothin’ done a lollygaggin’ ’round here,” Lottie said stoutly.
Mustang threw up his hands. “Them’s the only words ya spoke all day what’s worth a hill of beans.” He jerked his tattered hat down over his eyes. “I’ll just leave this fixin’ to ya, Lottie. It’s woman’s work nohow.” He made his escape.
“Humph!” Lottie said. “Men don’t know straight up ’bout ’rangin’ food stuff.”
“You’re right, Lottie,” Lucas said with a twitch of a smile. “I’m depending on you to keep your eagle eye on Mustang,” he warned as he moved down the line.
“I’ll do it, Lucas. I’ll keep my eye on this end.” Marie was sitting on a camp stool beside the Blanchet wagon. Billy was walking away with Rafe’s brown-and-white pup tugging on the end of a leash.
“Evening,” Lucas said. “Looks like Billy’s quite taken with the pup.”
“Yes,” Marie said quietly. “He’s enjoying Mr. Blanchet’s company, too.”