Candle Glow and Mistletoe: Romance on the Oregon Trail Book 5 Page 12

  Gingerly, she got to her feet and put the dipper back into the barrel. She put her hands on the small of her back and stretched. First, she unhitched the oxen, trying her hardest not to get caught in the leather traces. The front two were the lead pair for a reason. They were trained and were easily unyoked. It was the next two that gave her problems. It took so much energy but she succeeded. Food was next on the agenda. She’d have to disturb her husband. It was about time he got up anyway, the lazy sot. The back side of the wagon dropped down so she could use it to get the food ready. Once she had that unlatched she hesitated before climbing in. The cast iron pot was in ready reach, and she pulled it out. The food was under the false floor in the wagon. Fortunately, she’d put what she needed where she could easily grab it.

  Dang, she’d forgotten about making a fire first. Her heart started to beat faster as she became overwhelmed. A moment to herself was what she craved. She stepped to the outer side of the wagon and tried to collect her thoughts. It had been a hard day, and she expected many more of them. Determined to stand on her own two feet, though, she took a deep breath and vowed not to show an ounce of weakness. She rounded the wagon to make the fire, and there was Clancy standing with a jug of whiskey in his hand.

  “Where’s my supper? What have you been doing with your time? It figures I up and married a lazy one.” His eyes were wide and glassy.

  She shuddered. He was probably capable of violence. How was it he had been sober when they married and sober when they packed the wagon? Then he took Sunshine to sell. Dear Lord, did he spend the money on whiskey? Dare she ask?

  “Do we have wood for a fire?” she asked calmly.

  “That’s your job. Now go get some and be quick about it. Those biscuits didn’t last long.” He sneered at her and pulled a crate out to sit on.

  Her lips formed a straight line as she tried to keep from saying something she might regret. Instead, she walked alone toward the wooded area. She had to walk a while before she found any wood on the ground. It looked as though the forest had been picked over by other travelers. It surprised her that she didn’t encounter anyone else looking for wood. They’d probably loaded some in their wagons while they were in Independence. She had all she could carry and was relieved when she found her way back out.

  She scurried to make the fire and cut up chunks of beef. She added them to the cast iron pot and placed it over the fire. Next she chopped vegetables and added them along with water into the pot. She needed to figure out a routine to make everything quicker and easier.

  She sat on the ground near the fire while Clancy drank and laughed to himself. Glancing around, she saw many families, tired but happy, all sitting around their fire eating. Clancy must have noticed too.

  “How come everyone else is eatin’ and you’re just sitting doing nothing? We’ll need more wood for breakfast, or didn’t you think of that?”

  “It’s almost dark.”

  “That’s no excuse, go and get more wood. I can stir whatever is in that pot. It sure doesn’t smell all that good.” He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her.

  She stood, gave the stew a quick stir and left. Clancy’s voice had obviously carried given the many expressions of surprise and pity on other peoples’ faces. If she hadn’t had to leave Missouri, she might have just walked back to where they started. Things could be worse, and tired as she was, she’d get the wood, finish dinner and go to bed.

  “I thought I saw you come in here,” Mike said, causing her to jump.

  “I need some more wood. You didn’t need to check on me.” Her face heated at his expression of concern.

  “You drove the whole way?”

  She nodded and kept picking up wood. He took the wood from her and carried it as she added more pieces to the pile.

  “Where’s your husband been this whole time?”

  Her heart dropped. “Why ask? You already know he was in the wagon.”

  Mike stopped and dropped the wood. He reached out and took her hand in his. Gently he unwrapped the blood soaked bandanna. “I’ll find some gloves for you. You’ll need to keep these wounds clean. Wash the bandannas tonight and hang them. They’ll be ready for you to use tomorrow. Clancy plans to drive tomorrow, doesn’t he?”

  His gentleness was almost too much for her. It took everything inside her not to weep. “I really should get back.”

  Mike nodded and picked up the pile of wood. They walked in silence, and when they got back to her wagon, Mike dropped the wood at Clancy’s feet and then stared him down. “If you need anything else, Mrs. Willis, let me know.” He looked to be barely containing his anger. With a quick nod, he spun on his heel and left.

  “What did you tell him?” Clancy demanded. He stood and grabbed her arm hurting her.

  “I didn’t tell him a thing. My life is my business.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp and went to gather the bowls and spoons. She ladled out the hearty stew and handed a bowl to Clancy. “Where’s the coffee?”

  “We have water.” She told him softly.

  “I want coffee.”

  She groaned and grabbed the coffee pot and got the coffee ready to put on the fire. Clancy helped himself to another big portion of the stew and her stomach rumbled. There probably wasn’t much left. She took her bowl, dismayed to discover she was right, he hadn’t left her a full serving. She would have to make due. By the way it stuck to the bottom of the pot, she knew he hadn’t stirred it once.

  Disgust invaded her being but there was nothing she could do about it. She sat and ate her food, and when the coffee was ready, she poured him a cup but by then he was more interested in his whiskey. She’d save it for the morning.

  She put on some water to heat so she could wash the dishes and her bandannas. Once everything was clean she turned toward Clancy. “Good night.” She started to climb into the wagon.

  “There’s been a change in plans. The wagon is more comfortable than the ground. I’ll be sleeping in the wagon from now on. You have a choice. You can either sleep with me or sleep under the wagon.” His voice boomed, and she was certain everyone in the whole party knew of her shame.

  “The ground will be fine. Good night.” She went into the wagon and grabbed an oil cloth and a few blankets. All she wanted was to lay her head down and close her eyes. The ground was fine.

  Mike made one last sweep of the encampment before he turned in for the night. When he saw Susan sleeping under the wagon his anger knew no bounds. What he wouldn’t give to plant his fist in Clancy’s face. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do. They were married, and the rest was their business. That was just the way of things. Sometimes there just wasn’t anything he could do, and this was one of them. It didn’t sit right with him.

  He’d make sure Clancy had his share of guard duty and hunting. What kind of man treated a woman the way he treated Susan? She sure tried to put on a brave front, but for some reason he could almost see inside her heart and it was in great pain today. Not from any love of Clancy, but from the disappointment and hardship the day had brought.

  He’d find her some gloves to wear in the morning.

  Morning always started at four o’clock, when Mike would be up and walking from wagon to wagon seeing who needed help. It was interesting to see who the firemaker in each family was. Some of the men did it for their wives, a few wives did it themselves. He moved on and checked on everyone before he sat down at the supply wagon he had provided for him and his brothers and the driver, Smitty. Smitty was a good guy. His tan, leathered face told a story of too many years in the saddle. They’d known him all their lives. He made sure they were all fed and if they got ill, he fussed over them like an old woman. He’d made the trek west and back many times and they considered him to be family. Plus he was darn good with a gun.

  Coffee and food were exactly what Mike needed. He enjoyed this time of day when he, his brothers, and Smitty were able to catch up and alert the others to potential problems. With so many people there were bound to be mis
understandings. It was early days yet. When people began to feel a bit of hopelessness, that they were never going to reach Oregon, tempers usually flared. Mike liked the early days.

  “Did you get everyone scheduled for guard duty?” Mike asked Eli.

  Eli nodded while he finished chewing the food in his mouth. “Most of them anyway. You know how it is, a few don’t know how to shoot a rifle, and then there was that Willis fellow. He claims he’s not up to it. He says he’s sick, but he smelled like whiskey. I heard he just married that nice woman, Susan. He wouldn’t have lasted a day without her. He hasn’t lifted a finger as far as I know.”

  Jed frowned. “Why do people think they can get there without doing the work? I do have to say the majority of our party is made up of sturdy, hardworking people. There are a few hot heads, but we’ll deal with them if need be.”

  Smitty refilled all the coffee cups. “Your folks would have been proud of you boys.” He sighed. “Who has guard duty tonight?”

  Eli explained the schedule. They split it into two shifts. The shift change was around midnight. “I put some of the greener guys on the early shift. I’ll make the rounds to teach them. The second shift I have more seasoned men. I’ll explain what they are to do and then I’ll grab some shut eye.” Eli stood and then grabbed his rifle.

  Mike nodded. Smitty was right, their parents would have been proud of all of them. “Have a good night and be careful out there.” He watched until Eli was out of sight. He wondered if Susan was making her fire. He needed to keep his head clear of her. She was married, and it would lead to no good.

  He stopped and greeted most of the people. He wished he could skip Susan’s but the pull to check on her was too strong besides he’d found some gloves for her. She smiled as he approached and her smile went right to his heart. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Mike. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “We barely have enough for ourselves!” Clancy yelled from inside the wagon.

  Mike pretended for her sake he hadn’t heard her husband. “I wish I could but I have many more wagons to visit.” He started to walk away and then he turned back, drawing a pair of leather gloves out of his back pocket. “I found these for you. You’ll be hurting for a few days to come, but they should protect you from further injury.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She took the gloves and her eyes grew wide as she stroked the soft leather. “I appreciate your kindness.”

  After he tipped his hat, he walked on. It was worth it to see the smile she’d bestowed him. He was already a goner, and he had a big heartbreak in the making, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  He walked to the next wagon and the kindly Mrs. Mott pulled him to the side. “We need to do something about Mr. Willis. He’s a mean one, and she’s a brand new bride. Why my heart goes out to her.”

  “Savanna, I already tol’ you it’s not our business,” her husband Clarke said.

  “But surely…” She sighed and wiped a few wisps of her white hair off her forehead.

  “Your husband is right, Savanna. Let me know if things get out of hand.”

  “I will, Mike. It’s just so hard to hear and to watch.” Savanna smiled at him. “You’re a good man, Mike.”

  “Thank you, Savanna. I’d best get moving on.”

  * * *

  The camp began to stir in the predawn hours, and Susan wished she’d scouted the area she had slept on for rocks before she went to bed. It’d been less than a restful sleep, but she got through the first day, she’d do the same for today. She’d always admired those who showed fortitude, and she planned to do her best to do the same.

  She crawled out from under the wagon, gathered up her bedding and folded it. Then she went about her chores as well as she could while she did her best not to wake Clancy. He had gone somewhere last night and fallen a few times getting into the wagon. How could she have been blind to his coarseness? The words he’d used when he fell heated her face, and she had appreciated the darkness.

  She filled her canteen and put it up front on the wagon seat. She also made extra biscuits and put her share next to her canteen. Next she filled a pot with water to soak the beans so they’d be ready to cook come nightfall. She wished she’d thought to grab clean clothes last night but she’d just have to wear what she had on. Not that it mattered much.

  “There’s a creek nearby if you need to top off your water barrel,” Jed called to her as he rode past. She nodded her appreciation.

  At least she’d be able to wash. Grabbing a bucket, she headed in the direction of the creek. Other members of the party were coming back from it all looking clean. She’d heard there would be times they wouldn’t have extra water to wash with. At the banks of the creek, she knelt and splashed water on her face. The cool liquid soothed her battered hands, and she soaked them for a time. She filled her bucket and began to walk back to the camp when a big bear of a man came into view. A full, unkempt beard the color of midnight blended into a mane of thick, loose hair that hung past his shoulders. A shiver rippled through her. The way he ogled her was disconcerting, and she tried to pretend she didn’t notice.

  He licked his lips as he got closer, and then he smiled. “I was hoping to catch a moment alone with you. You sure are a sweet little thing. I wanted to get a better look before I took your husband up on any of his offers.”

  Her jaw dropped and her heart beat faster. “What—what offers?”

  “I mentioned by the amount he was drinking he’d run dry before much longer. I have a wagon almost filled with the finest whiskey. I’m opening a bar in Oregon. He said if it came to it he’d trade you for a few bottles.” His laugh was cruel. He stroked his beard and he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  “Good day.” She ran past him.

  “The name is Bart, Bart Bigalow! We’ll get to know each other at another time then.” He laughed again, and it made her skin crawl.

  Fear clutched at her chest as she hurried back to her wagon. So much water had sloshed out of the bucket there wasn’t very much left to put in the barrel. She poured it in anyway and heard a snicker from inside the wagon.

  “Can’t do anything right, can ya? You need to fill the bucket up when you’re at the water.”

  Susan ignored Clancy and went about packing the wagon. If she was too loud, Clancy moaned and told her to stop making noise if she knew what was good for her. She’d be just as glad if he just slept all day again. It was easier than listening to him.

  She began to shovel dirt on the now dying fire when she heard the sound of water. Turning around she was surprised to see Mike filling her barrel. His simple act of kindness made her want to cry.

  “Thank you,” she said her voice heavy.

  “I’m here to help.” He grinned at her and then walked to the Motts’ wagon. They looked like good people. Perhaps she’d get a chance to know them soon.

  “If you can’t do the work right, you’ll get us kicked off,” Clancy warned.

  “You’re welcome to help me.” She put her hand over her mouth. He was bound to be angry with her. She quickly went to gather their oxen, chastising herself the whole time. She needed a knife or something to carry, and she’d best tread lightly.

  Horses she was used to. Oxen seemed almost intimidating but she could do it. She had to do it, and her hope was they’d cooperate. They were happy enough to be unhitched last night. Before she even had a chance to try, Eli rode up, jumped off his horse and had the four oxen gathered.

  “I do know how,” she said hoping she hadn’t looked helpless.

  “I know you do. I saw you yesterday. You handled them quite well. I just thought I’d give you a hand is all. How are your hands by the way?” He stared at her gloves.

  “Thanks to your brother, I’ll be just fine. I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been for the trip.” She gave him a slight smile. It was better to make light of things.

  Eli grinned. “Everyone forgets something.” He quickly and skillfully yoked and hit
ched the oxen and then tied the lines around the brake. “Off to see who else I can help.”

  “Thank you, Eli.”

  He nodded, mounted his horse, and rode off.

  “You like them young, don’t ya?” Clancy slurred as he rounded to the front of the wagon. “What did you tell him? Did you tell him I couldn’t handle the animals?”

  A shiver of fear ran up her spine. “Of course not. I wouldn’t speak ill of you. You’re my husband.”

  The menace in his eyes lessened. “I’m going to sleep for a while. Take a care when driving. You drove over too many dang bumps yesterday.”

  She watched him climb back into the wagon and frowned. He’d been such a different person when he was sober. His willingness to help her out had impressed her, and she’d been confident they’d get on. Unfortunately she’d been terribly wrong.

  Her shoulders and arms ached, but she climbed up onto the wagon seat and waited for the signal for them for them to move out.

  Looking down at her gloves, she smiled. At least someone cared, even if was just a little bit. The wagon in front of her began to pull out. She waited a few breaths and then urged her oxen forward. The wagon lurched forward. They were on their way again. She held the lines and steadily drove the wagon until the noon break. This time she had her own biscuits to eat. She unhitched the oxen, rubbed them down with a bit of hay, and led them to water before she found herself a rock to sit on. There was no sense in peeking in the wagon. She didn’t want to disturb Clancy. She sighed as she unwrapped her biscuits.

  She’d learn to do it all on her own. Clancy had been a means to get on the wagon train. He’d served his purpose. Bart Bigalow could send her all the snide looks he wanted. His threat of Clancy trading her to him for whiskey was just an empty threat. No one they were traveling with would stand for it.