White Wolf (24 page)

Suddenly she felt something else. Hatred, dark, menacing and evil. Cold, bone-deep and frightening in its intensity, it held her in its icy grip. She was helpless to do anything but watch as a jagged bolt of fury fell between Wolf and the woman, tearing them apart. She tried to call out, to warn them of the danger, but couldn’t. Her brows drew together, and her head rolled from side to side as she fought the dream. She didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to know things. But the vision held her, forcing her to watch future events unfold.

Star stopped fighting when she realized her brother was in danger. She had to help him, but try as she might the shadowed form of evil remained faceless until it too faded. This time she tried to hold on to the dream, learn more. But it was over. She woke bathed in sweat. Lying on her back, she willed herself to stay calm by taking deep, even breaths as her grandmother had taught her.

Tears gathered in her eyes. How she wished for her grandmother’s comfort and words of wisdom. She turned her head and stared at her husband, needing to talk to someone about the visions that haunted her. Each revealed a bit more, but not enough for her to understand.

Two-Ree slept soundly. Lifting her hand to wake her husband, Star Dreamer hesitated, then let her hand drop back to her chest. What could she tell him? Her visions remained too hazy. After a long time, she turned onto her side, but didn’t close her eyes.

The following day the emigrants reached the south bank of the Platte River, referred to as the Coast of Nebraska. By the day’s end they arrived at Fort Kearny, the “Gateway to the Great Plains.” The mood drifting on the breeze was one of relief and cheer. The emigrants had traveled over three hundred miles in a month’s time. Travelers who knew each other by sight if not by name came together to share their joy and jubilation.

Women went from wagon to wagon, trading their excesses for goods they’d fallen short on, while men grouped together to trade stories. Soldiers, many of them no more than young boys, homesick and eager for news from home, rode across the prairie to welcome the travelers and spread the word that their fort boasted a storehouse, post office, laundry, blacksmith facilities and a crude hospital. Invitations to share a meal and company were made and accepted.

Jessie, Eirica and Coralie walked a short distance to get a better view of the fort. The four-acre fort presented a drab, squalid and homely appearance, with its ramshackle collection of sod, sunbaked adobe and a few wood-framed buildings. Eirica was disappointed by the sight. She’d expected something much grander.

“Look. There’s the flag. Hard to believe we’re still on American soil. It’s so different.”

Eirica glanced upward and beheld the flag, bearing stars and stripes, waving proudly in the breeze. The sight didn’t reassure her. She still felt as though she were standing on foreign land. She turned in a slow circle. Spreading out up to a mile from the fort, circles of white-topped wagons littered the prairie. “There must be hundreds of wagons out here.”

Coralie clapped her hands, her voice high with excitement. “Oh, I do hope this means there’s going to be a dance tonight.”

Jessie grinned and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, Corie, with this many people, there’s going to be a lot of celebrating and visiting going on. Come on, I’d best get back to help with the chores.” The three women walked back to camp.

After supper, music from fiddles filled the air, luring everyone to an evening of visiting and dancing except Eirica. James stood in the shadows of the corralled wagons and silently watched her pace back and forth. She stopped every so often to scan the night-shrouded prairie, and when she did, the delicate features of her profile were bathed by moonlight. He sucked in his breath. Even rounded with child, she was beautiful.

Her golden-red hair hung down her back in one long twisted rope and her hands rested on her abdomen. As soon as he’d learned from Jessie that Eirica had stayed behind, he’d decided to come and make sure she was all right. He didn’t like the idea of her being left alone.

Her husband was drinking with his buddies and on an evening when drink flowed heavier than normal, James worried that Birk would return too drunk to heed the warnings Wolf had given him. James couldn’t allow him to beat Eirica again, but how could he prevent it? His forehead creased with worry. He could only hope that Birk would drink himself into a stupor and pass out somewhere on the prairie. That gave him an idea. He grinned. It was perfect.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed that Eirica seemed to be in pain. Surely, she wasn’t in labor. His mouth went dry. He had no idea where to find Mrs. Svensson. Stepping out of the shadows, he cleared his throat softly and waited for Eirica to acknowledge his presence. She glanced at him, looking skittish, ready to bolt. He didn’t want to frighten her, so he stopped a fair distance from her and removed his hat. “You have nothing to fear, Mrs. Macauley. I came to find Jessie,” he lied, “and couldn’t help notice that you seemed to be in pain. If the babe is coming, I can fetch help. Your husband, I believe, is visiting with a group of men bound for California.”

Her gaze met his for one brief second before dropping to the ground. She clasped her arms in front of her. Her voice was a carefully controlled whisper. “What a kind way of saying my husband has found someone to supply him with more spirits so he can get drunk, Mr. Jones.”

James stepped closer and like a startled doe, she glanced up, her eyes wide with fear. He smiled gently. “You are correct, Mrs. Macauley. And judging by the way those spirits are flowing, I’d be very surprised if he found his way back to camp tonight.”

Eirica laughed, but the sound held no humor. “Fear not, Mr. Jones. My husband will find his way. He always does,” she said, her voice quavering with the fear she couldn’t suppress.

James felt helpless. There wasn’t anything he could do and it didn’t sit well with him. As head of his household, he was used to being in control, making decisions and protecting his loved ones. The thought of this woman being left to the mercy of an abusive husband with no family to intervene left a sour taste in his mouth. Frustration ate at him. How the fates must be laughing at him, he thought glumly. How ironic that a woman who was so attractive to him was married to an abusive husband.

He pursed his lips and glared at the heavens for their cruel jest. Turning to leave, he realized she was still rubbing her belly. Concern overrode his other emotions. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Should I fetch Mrs. Svensson?”

Eirica turned back to him and shook her head. “No, the babe is fine.”

An uncomfortable silence fell and James knew he should leave. Birk would be angry if he should see them talking. He replaced his hat, tipped the brim toward her, then strode away. Mounting his horse, he rode until he found a soldier he’d talked to earlier who agreed to slip a bit of sleeping powder into Birk’s drink. After watching the man head off to where Macauley was carousing, James rode a short distance away then stopped. Pulling his mouth organ from his shirt pocket, he played softly, comforted by the knowledge that Eirica would be safe from her husband’s abuse tonight.

At daybreak, Jessie and Rook drove four oxen into the fort to have their worn shoes replaced. While Rook saw to the animals, Jessie explored the fort. Walking across the parade grounds, she noticed uniformed men coming and going from several wood-framed buildings. She assumed the structures were the officers’ quarters and their offices, and that the enlisted soldiers occupied the sod or adobe buildings.

Threading her way through the crowd, she spotted the tiny post office. Inside, she handed over a packet of letters. Most were addressed to Orvil Baker or Coralie’s friends, but one was destined for Eirica’s parents, hidden in the pile without Birk’s knowledge. Jessie left the post office. A cloud passed in front of the sun, raising the gooseflesh on her arms. Hugging herself to ward off the morning chill, she stewed over Eirica and her troubled marriage. How could Birk be so mean as to forbid his wife any contact with her family?

Birk’s possessiveness and mistreatment of his family infuriated her and seemed to grow worse with each mile they traveled. Jessie wished there were something she could do, but it truly didn’t seem her place to do anything straightforward.

She chuckled as she basked in the success of her latest scheme. It had been so easy to bribe a young soldier into giving Birk a flask of whiskey doctored with a few drops of laudanum. Laughing out loud, she ignored the smiles sent her way. Her plan the night before had worked wonderfully. So well, in fact, that Birk had passed out on the prairie and had to be carried back to their camp by Lars and his sons. The sun came out from behind the clouds as if sharing her glee.

“Hey, pal, you’ve got a wicked look about you. What have you been up to, Jessie Jones?”

Jessie whirled around and saw Elliot and Coralie coming toward her. Arching her brow and schooling her features into a mask of innocence, she shrugged. “I’m not up to anything, Elliot. Just checking the place out while Rook gets a couple of the oxen reshod. Hey, look. They have a store too. Think I’ll see what they have.”

Elliot shook his head. “Nice try, brat, but I know that look. You’ve been up to your old tricks again.”

Jessie opened her mouth to deny it, then grinned. “You wound me, Elliot. What possible trouble could I get into here?”

Rolling his eyes, Elliot cuffed her gently. “You don’t really want me to list all the things your devious little mind could cook up, do you? We’d be here all night.”

They laughed. Elliot tipped his head to one side. “You left the Adamses’ wagon early last night. My dancing wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Jessie felt a nostalgic stab of longing. There was a time when she’d have given everything she owned to achieve the closeness she and Elliot now shared. Unfortunately, she’d outgrown her girlish infatuation for the handsome blond man, leaving her to pine for a stubborn wagon master too blind to see how well suited they were. She sighed to herself. Life would be so much simpler if it
were
Elliot who held her heart. But not nearly as exciting, an inner voice whispered, bringing to mind thoughts and sensations that sent heat rising in her cheeks.

Unwilling to let her thoughts ruin her outing, she winked at Coralie and shook her head with mock disappointment. “Just wasn’t the same without any of Mrs. Applegate’s pink punch.”

“Brat.” Elliot reached out and yanked her hat down over her eyes. “Seriously, Jess. Is everything all right?” he asked, his eyes shadowed with worry.

Staring into Elliot’s sky-blue eyes, seeing the brotherly concern, Jessie had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew of her feelings for Wolf. She stared at the tips of her toes. “Yeah, things are fine. Just fine. I was just tired last night.”

Coralie shifted and fanned herself. “Can we get moving? It’s hot out here.”

Elliot grimaced and laid a casual arm around Jessie’s shoulder. “Want to walk back with us? We’ve already been in the store.”

Jessie shook her head. “Thanks, but I should check with Rook and see if he needs help.”

She waved them off and headed for the storehouse. Inside, it was cool and crowded. Emigrants lined the wooden counters, their purchases piled in front of them. Wandering around, she stopped at a small barrel filled with bags of colored beads.

Thoughtfully, she grabbed one and opened it, fingering the cool glass beads. They were for trading with the Indians, but she knew two little girls who’d love them as well. She chose one for Alison and one for Lara, then took her place at the end of the counter to await her turn. While waiting to pay for the beads, Jessie let her gaze travel around the room. Shelves loaded with supplies lined three walls, while the fourth wall had been designated as a message board. Bits of paper fluttered in the breeze from the open door. Jessie scanned them. Most were notes letting family or friends know the writer had made it this far safely; others gave news of the trail ahead passed from wagon train to wagon train. Sadly she also noted the death announcements. Her gaze skimmed further to several Wanted posters.

“Morning, Jessie,” Anne called out, pushing through the throng of browsers to join her.

Jessie turned away from her study of one poster, which showed sketches of two men and a woman. “Mornin’, Anne. Isn’t it a wonderful day?”

The other woman grinned and smothered a laugh behind her hand. “Sure is. I trust the laudanum did the trick.”

She returned Anne’s conspiratorial wink and giggled as she paid for the beads. “Sure did. Worked like a charm. Why didn’t I think of it—”

“I didn’t realize you were ill yesterday, Jessica.”

At the sound of Wolf’s deeply concerned voice, Jessie choked on her glee and went into a coughing fit. Strong hands thumped her enthusiastically on the back. She waved Wolf away and, with eyes watering, glanced over her shoulder.

Wolf lifted a brow. His eyes gleamed, boding ill for her. Of all the people to run into, he was the one person she needed to avoid at all costs. Though she was fast losing her heart to him, she was smart enough not to want to invoke his fury. No matter his feelings toward her, he was still White Wolf, wagon master.

Thinking fast, she hugged her purchases to her chest and shrugged. “Hmm, not really. Just had a bit of an achy head, but I’m fine today.” With relief, she noticed that Anne had finished paying for her supplies. “Umm, well, we should go. Getting kinda crowded in here.” Jessie and Anne scurried out into the sunlight, leaving Wolf to await his turn to pay for his purchases.

The two women quickened their steps across the compound, hurrying toward the open prairie. Jessie glanced over her shoulder, feeling guilty for abandoning Rook. There was no sign of Wolf. She breathed a sigh of relief. If he found out what she’d done last night, he’d be furious. Just when she thought she was free and clear, Wolf caught up with them and positioned himself between her and Anne. Jessie swore under her breath. Her heart sank to the toes of her boots. She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t there to engage in idle chitchat.

Sure enough, he turned to Anne. “You don’t mind if I speak with Jessica alone, do you, Mrs. Svensson?”

She and Anne exchanged nervous glances. Jessie stopped and blurted, “Oh, shucks, I forgot. I’m supposed to meet Rook when he’s through and help him with the oxen.” She spun on her heel.

Wolf grabbed her arm and swept her away from Anne, who headed back to the wagons. “I think Rook can handle the oxen. This won’t take but a moment. One would think you didn’t want to be with me, hmm?” His gaze slid to her lips. “Not the impression you gave me the last time we were alone.”

Jessie gulped. She had the horrible feeling Wolf was playing with her, as if—but no, he couldn’t know. She’d been careful. “Don’t be silly.” She forced a laugh.

Wolf continued pleasantly, “Everyone seemed to have a good time last night. Did you?”

She slid him a look from the corner of her eye. “Sure. Met a lot of nice people.”

“Didn’t stay up too late, did you?”

Jessie feigned a yawn. “Guess I stayed out too late. But no crime in that. Today is a day of rest.” Her voice challenged him. “In fact, maybe I’ll take a nice long nap before suppertime.”

Wolf nodded. “True. No need to get your dander up.” He slid her a sideways glance. “You’re not the only one tired today. Mrs. Macauley’s husband is still abed, and it’s past midmorning. Perhaps if he’s not awake when we get back, I should make sure he’s all right.”

Jessie bit her lower lip and drew it into her mouth with worry. “Ah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Wolf. He must’ve drunk an awful lot last night, so maybe it’d be best to let him sleep it off,” she suggested, keeping her eyes trained on the uneven ground.

Desperate to get away, she pulled her arm from Wolf’s grasp and quickened her steps. “James said you’re selling a few head of cattle to the soldiers, so I won’t keep you.”

Wolf laid his arm across her shoulders, preventing her escape. “How considerate of you, but I’ve already finished my business. I’ll just escort you back to camp. No telling what shady characters are hanging about. Wouldn’t want you to run into Zeb, now, would we? Scarred his face but good with that whip of yours,” he commented casually.

Jessie’s jaw fell. Neither she nor Eirica had ever mentioned running into the drunken man to anybody. When she’d learned that he was traveling, she’d kept a low profile, making sure he didn’t see her when their trains passed one another.

Before she could explain, Wolf lifted a brow. “We’ll talk about that one later. Let’s talk about your more recent activities.”

“How ’bout not,” Jessie mumbled.

Wolf ignored her and continued thoughtfully, “I spoke to James earlier. Seems he was a bit worried to find Birk still sleeping. His unexpected concern over a man he despises made me curious, so I asked him why he cared.”

He paused dramatically. “To my surprise, he confessed to drugging Birk’s drink last night with laudanum.”

Jessie stopped and stared in disbelief. “James did what?” Her voice ended on a squeak, and her mind raced. Surely she hadn’t heard right. James, her straitlaced, never-do-wrong brother, had drugged Birk?

“You heard me.” Wolf rested his hands casually on his hips. “Now mind you, his intentions were good; something about wanting to make sure Birk slept through his drunken stupor and didn’t beat up on Eirica. Very clever of him, wouldn’t you agree, Jessica?”

“Sounds like it worked,” she muttered, wondering where this was leading. But she knew. Somehow he’d found out that she’d done the same thing. She sighed in defeat and thrust her chin out. It wouldn’t do any good to continue the charade. She glared at him, daring him to take her to
task. “It served him right,” she said under her breath. “How’d you find me out?” She kicked a stone.

Wolf lifted a brow, his mouth set in a grim line. “About the incident with Zeb or that you drugged Birk’s drink?”

Jessie screwed up her face. “Both.” Resigned to his anger, she waited.

Wolf put his hands on his hips, his features grim. “Let’s take Zeb first. I saw the whole thing. Before I could step in and take care of him, you were there with your whip. Nice piece of work. Of course, I followed him once I saw that you were taking care of Eirica. Added my own warnings to yours and have kept my eye out for him and his buddies since.”

Jessie swallowed hard. “You followed him—”

Wolf startled her by slashing the air with one hand. “No one threatens or harms those under my protection.
No one.
”

Oh, Lordy, here it comes.
Jessie braced herself.

“And as for last night, I saw Birk drinking with Zeb and his pals and found it particularly interesting when a soldier joined them with a flask just for Birk. Heard them laughing when the soldier said some lady sent it. Of course, I had to wonder who this lady was.”

Jessie groaned, but Wolf continued, his voice conversational, yet she heard the thread of fury and disappointment underlying his words.

“Curious, I followed the soldier.” A gleam came into his eyes. “I convinced the lad that it was in his best interest to tell me what was going on.”

“Convinced? His best interest?” Jessie repeated in horror. She cringed at Wolf’s smug expression.

“Not to worry, Jessica, dear. I didn’t touch him. Didn’t need to. He figured out on his own that it was wise to tell me what I wanted to know. He was only too happy to spill his guts. But can you imagine my surprise when he described you as the one who paid him to deliver the bottle?”

His voice hardened. “Didn’t take much to figure out you’d drugged Birk’s drink, as apparently James had done. Hearing you and Anne only confirmed it.”

Jessie bit her lip and focused her attention on the row of fringe sewn into the yoke of his buckskin shirt. She supposed he’d traded his vest for a more conventional shirt because of the visit to the fort. “Don’t blame her. If she hadn’t given it to me, I would have gotten it elsewhere.”

Wolf stepped close and gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his furious blue gaze. “Jessica, be careful. Birk Macauley’s not a man to play games with. While he may or may not deserve it, it’s not your place to punish him. Are you willing to accept the responsibility of his death? He could have died.”

Jessie swallowed hard, her face paling, her eyes wide. “You don’t think—”

“No, he won’t die. He’s just sleeping—deeply—but you and your brother are lucky. What if, God help us, others had done the same thing?” Wolf released her, stepped back and folded his arms across his chest.

Jessie narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t think anyone else would do it too.”

“You were lucky, as you were with the hornets. Men have been known to die from that many stings.”

Jessie winced. Wolf knew all. She didn’t know how, didn’t want to know. She dug a toe into the sandy soil. While it hurt to have Wolf angry with her and disappointed in her, she didn’t regret what she’d done. Well, maybe just her impulsiveness. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked him in the eye. She’d done what she’d thought needed to be done. She wouldn’t
apologize for that. “It was never my intention to harm Birk. I just wanted to lay him up, keep him from beating on his wife and children.”