Authors: Patricia Hagan
Julie shared her apprehension over Esther, so she murmured, “I’ll have to think about it.”
What
had
provoked Elisa to hysteria? To say such vicious things about her and Derek?
Derek!
Elisa had referred to Derek by his first name. No one called Derek by his first name, not even Thomas, who was assistant wagon master. There was an air about Derek Arnhardt that commanded respect.
She nodded to herself. Yes, there was something there, something to evoke such rage from Elisa. Something.
Chapter Three
Julie sat huddled next to Myles, a blanket wrapped tightly about them both. It was difficult to make out the lines of the wagons ahead, for the storm had unleashed its fury. Angry winds whipped white torrents, shrouding the world in whispered oblivion.
Myles had pulled the brim of his hat down as far as it would go, and still the icy snowflakes slapped his face. He leaned close to say, “If the wagons weren’t tied together we’d veer off and get lost in this mess.”
Julie shivered. “I wish Derek would let us stop for the day. Why must we continue in this storm?”
“It’s best to keep moving. Keeps the horses warmer than if they were standing still in the snow and wind. It’d be hard to keep a fire going, too. He figures we’re two weeks out of San Angelo, and we’re running low on supplies. We need to get there as quick as we can.”
“But what about tonight, when we have to camp?”
“Arnhardt told the men that we’re heading into the base region of a mountain range, and he knows a place where there’s high rocks to protect us from the winds. If the storm is still bad tomorrow, we’ll have to sit and wait it out. I hope you ladies aren’t very hungry.” He gave her a quick, anxious glance. “We’ll probably have to ration out food if we get snowed in.”
“I’m not worried about me,” she responded quickly. “I just want to make sure Teresa doesn’t go hungry. She needs strength.”
“I know she does,” he said, and his voice was almost bitter. “I wish she weren’t pregnant. Not now. This trip is rough enough on a woman without her expecting a baby.”
Julie shared his worries. Teresa was so tiny and delicate. But she made her voice cheery. “She will do just fine.” It was a confidence she did not really feel. “She figures the baby won’t be born until June, and we should be in Arizona in April.”
“I know, I know,” he said, sighing impatiently, “but she’s growing larger every day. She’s so damn small, Julie. What if the baby is going to be a big one? And what if she delivers early? Hell, the roughest part is still ahead. We’re heading straight into part of the Rocky Mountains.
“And Indian country,” he added grimly, glancing at her to gauge her reaction.
Julie stared straight ahead and made no comment.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to frighten you.” He turned his gaze back to the ghostly world before him. “It’s just that I’m kind of scared myself, and I can’t talk about it to Teresa. I have to pretend I’m brave and not worried about anything. Damn it all, I am scared—and I can’t admit it to anybody but you. Maybe I’m just a coward.”
Julie was furious. “Myles Marshall, you are anything but a coward! Have you so easily forgotten the reason you had to leave home? You faced up to Jabe Brogden and Wiley Lucas for what they tried to do to me! And your leg.” She touched his right leg. “You limp because you took the charge of a wild hog to save my life when we were only ten years old. Don’t you
ever
let me hear you call yourself a coward again!”
Her anger had warmed her blood, and Myles glanced at her flushed cheeks and laughed affectionately. “Dear, dear Julie,” he murmured. “With your spirit, I don’t know how I could be afraid of anything, not as long as I’ve got you beside me.”
She smiled at him. “There’s nothing ahead on this trail that you can’t face.”
“I’ve never had to face an Indian,” he countered, “and we’ll have to go through Chiricahua country.”
She admonished herself for the effect his words had.
“The Chiricahua,” he went on when she remained silent, “are part of the Apache nation. There are three bands of them, ranging from the Rio Grande to southwestern Arizona and from northern Mexico on down to Zuni and Acoma. They’re savages, Julie. They like war, and they hate the white man.”
“I’m sure Derek will keep a close watch on us,” she said as stoutly as she could.
Myles moved a gloved hand to her knee. “Forgive me, honey. I’m not trying to scare you. Like I said, I can’t talk about my fears to other people.”
“We’re going to be just fine.” Julie forced a smile. “It’s too cold for Indians to be roaming around anyhow.”
He laughed. “I wish that were true.”
Suddenly Julie said, “You know, even if it is dangerous, the snow is beautiful. I’d never even seen real, heavy snow before the war.”
At the mention of the war both went silent. Then Myles said, “Why don’t you crawl in the back and take a nap with Teresa?”
“I’m not sleepy. I’d rather stay out here with you. In this storm, four eyes are better than two. Besides, we’ll surely get to that shelter before long, and I can sleep then.”
“What about Arnhardt?” her brother asked suddenly. “Did you solve your differences?”
She sighed. Was everyone going to ask her about Derek? “No,” she finally told him. “It will never work for us, Myles, and I really don’t want to discuss it.”
He ignored her protest and said earnestly, “You love him. He loves you.” He said it matter-of-factly. “You’re both stubborn, but you’ll come to your senses one day.”
“We all have a new life waiting for us in the Arizona territory, Myles. Perhaps it’s best if we put the past out of mind. I intend to do just that.”
“You love him,” he said firmly. “You can never forget those you love.”
She was silent for a moment, then said quietly, “I think I’ll go back and see how Teresa is doing.”
“Fine,” he said, amused. “But remember, Julie, you can run from the past, but you can’t hide from yourself.”
Pushing aside the canvas, she stepped down into the wagon. Above her, the wagon coverings of strong white homespun hemp, arched over thirteen wooden bows, whipped and strained against the gale.
In the scant, gray light, she could just make out Teresa bundled beneath blankets. Moving quietly, she picked her way to her own mattress and prepared to lie down.
“I’m not asleep,” Teresa said, her voice muffled. She uncovered her face and sat up. “I guess I’m too worried about Myles being out there. Is he all right?”
Julie nodded. “I don’t think we’ll be going much farther today. It’ll be dark soon. Myles says Derek knows of shelter ahead. We’ll camp there.
“But how are you feeling?” she asked anxiously. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes,” Teresa said, laughing. “You can wake me up in June, when the baby gets here. I think I’d like to sleep till then.
“No,” she said quickly, sensing Julie’s concern. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about me.”
“We can’t help but worry, Teresa,” Julie told her as she wrapped herself in a thick wool blanket. “The baby seems to be growing awfully fast. I hope he isn’t going to be too big. You’re such a tiny thing.”
“I’m going to be just fine.” Teresa grinned confidently, propping her elbows on her knees before her as she leaned back against one of the wooden support hoops. “It’s going to be wonderful having Myles’s baby, beginning a new life in the Arizona territory, leaving all the terrible war memories behind. I only wish Grandma and Grandpa had lived to have that new life. But we’re supposed to think they have a much better life where they are.”
Julie felt a wave of pity as she looked at Teresa’s big, shining brown eyes. Teresa was a child in her exuberance but mature beyond her age in compassion and understanding. “I’m sorry your grandparents didn’t make it, Teresa,” she told her sincerely. “They sound like wonderful people.”
“They were.” Teresa nodded eagerly. “After my parents were killed, they took me in and treated me like their own child. They were so happy when Myles and I fell in love. But I think I knew from the beginning they wouldn’t make it all the way. I think they knew it, too, but they tried—for my sake, really, to give me a new start.”
Suddenly the wagon lurched to a stop, and the two young women turned anxious eyes toward the front. Myles appeared in a minute. “We’re moving onto the plateau, one wagon at a time.” He grinned. “Soon we’ll have a fire going and food cooking.”
As Myles stood there, the canvas pulled open, wind whipping snow inside the wagon. In a rare show of irritation, Teresa cried, “Myles, you’re letting in the snow, and my seeds are going to get wet.”
Julie watched, amazed, as Teresa moved her bulk over to a small packet lying on top of a carton. Retrieving the packet, she held it to her bosom as she snuggled back beneath the blankets. Myles looked at Julie and shrugged, then stepped back outside.
“What was all that about?” Julie asked curiously.
“My flower seeds.” Teresa smiled proudly, holding up the packet. “My grandmother gave them to me to start a flower garden when we reach our new home. I guess they’re just about the most important thing I’m carrying with me. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“Flower seeds?” Julie laughed incredulously, then saw the hurt look on Teresa’s face and said, “I’m sorry, Teresa. It’s just that I’m surprised they mean so much to you.”
“Well, they do,” she said. “They came from Grandma’s garden back home, and she said that even though we might not be sure of anything else out here, we could be sure of having flowers in the spring. That means a lot to me, especially now that she’s gone…” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked furiously.
“I read once,” she went on in a hopeful whisper, “that Napoleon said, ‘Where flowers degenerate, man cannot live.’ My flowers will grow, Julie,” she whispered. “I have this picture in my heart of my flowers growing, and my child standing near the blossoms, laughing. The picture sees me through the sad times, the worried times. I feel that where my flowers can’t grow, we can’t survive, either. Can you understand that?”
“Of course,” Julie responded awkwardly, taken aback.
As Derek had promised, the spot between the rocky bluffs gave shelter. There were even bare spots where the snow had not been able to reach, and a high, sweeping overhang afforded a nice, dry area for a roaring camp fire.
They pulled the wagons into a circle, making a corral where the horses could move about freely.
“Ration your food,” Derek ordered. “We may be here a few days if this storm doesn’t break soon, and we’re still two weeks out of San Angelo. We have to make what we’ve got last.”
Julie watched him speaking to the men, giving orders which were always quickly obeyed and never questioned. He had that affect, she reflected, exuding authority and commanding respect with only a gesture.
“I think we’ll make a stew out of the dried venison we have left,” Teresa was saying. “That will last awhile, and it will be good and filling. I’ll ask Myles to get potatoes from the bin in back.”
“He’s got to feed the horses. I’ll do it. You rest, Teresa.”
Teresa sighed with exasperation. “I wish you would both stop treating
me
like a baby. The baby is inside me. I’m a grown woman, and I can do my share of the work.”
Julie ignored her and set about making the stew. By the time it was ready, night had fallen, and the large camp fire blazed, dancing eerily in the snow-blanketed night. After they had eaten, the men brought out their whiskey and sat to one side of the fire while the women who did not have small children to see to gathered on the opposite side away from the men and their conversation.
Julie and Teresa sat off to the side, by themselves. Julie felt uncomfortable around the other women because of Elisa’s tirade. It was warm by the fire, but the wind was harsh and they would soon be going to bed to burrow beneath blankets.
Esther Webber walked over and settled her heavy bulk next to Julie. Gently, she said, “I can tell you’re feeling bad about what happened this morning, dear. Please don’t. That little snob isn’t worth your concern.”
Julie merely looked at her, keeping quiet. Teresa did the same.
Esther, undaunted, rushed on eagerly. “I knew that girl in Brunswick, and she’s just a troublemaker. Came from a wealthy family, she did, the Beckworths, and she and her mama were always lording it over everybody. Always giving balls and teas and acting like the Lord High Almighty when it came to picking out who was good enough to be invited.”
She paused to take a breath, then continued. “Anyway, Elisa and Genevieve, her mother, made up their minds that they wanted Elisa to marry Adam Thatcher. Now he’s a fine young man from a real nice Christian family. The Thatchers had money, too, but they didn’t throw it around like Elisa’s family. So Elisa got her hooks into Adam, and they got married. Then the trouble started.”
Esther paused to gauge their reactions. Julie and Teresa were both listening raptly despite their intentions. Teresa urged her, “What kind of trouble? Go on, Mrs. Webber, please. I’d like to know what happened to that poor girl to make her so spiteful. Maybe it would help us to understand her.”
“Understand, my foot!” Esther snorted. “There’s nothing to understand. She’s just a spoiled brat, just plain ornery.