Читать книгу Trusting Sarah - Cassandra Austin - Страница 9

“Now where’s that fool boy gone off to?”

Sarah decided Eli was muttering, not asking, and therefore didn’t require an answer. She could guess that Rice had gone to the von Schiller wagon, but she hadn’t seen him go, and he hadn’t told her. She saw no reason to share her guess with Eli.

“I was about to go for the wood,” she told him. “Do you want me to look for Rice instead?”

“Well, I’ll need more wood than ya’ll find on the ground. Get River to go with ya and chop down one a them trees.”

River had just entered the camp. He dropped his saddle and gear near the supply wagon. “I got better things to do,” he said without sparing Sarah a glance.

“Don’t see what. Ya already assigned guards, and ya ain’t one a ‘em. Don’t see nobody askin’ for yer help with nothin’.” To illustrate this, Eli looked around the busy circle. “Go help Sarah bring in enough wood to fill the possum bellies in case we don’t make it to the Little Blue tomorrow and have to stop in the hills somewheres.”

River glared at Eli before chuckling in defeat. “I’ll get the wood, but what do I need her for?” He cast Sarah a dismissing glance, grabbed the ax and headed for the creek.

Eli called after him, “To help ya find yer way back.” He eyed Sarah curiously for a moment. She tried to pretend he hadn’t embarrassed her. “Fetch the water,” he directed.

Sarah unfastened the buckets from the side of the wagon, glad River’s long legs would keep him well ahead of her. She had barely left the camp when Rice caught up with her. He took one bucket from her and hurried on, making her walk faster. “I’m sorry I’m late. Is Eli mad?” He looked over his shoulder then walked faster still.

“I don’t know, Rice. With him it’s hard to tell. River’s gone after the wood, and he sent me for water.” To her dismay, Rice’s pace was threatening to make them catch up with River.

“I’ll get the water,” Rice offered, taking the second bucket. “See if you can keep Eli from being mad.”

Sarah stopped, too out of breath to argue, and watched the boy hurry away. At camp, Eli was muttering but no more than usual. She told him Rice would bring the water and went on to other duties. She had no idea how to keep the grumpy old man from being angry at Rice.

Rice and River returned at the same time. Before Eli could do more than stand up, pointing his paring knife at Rice, River said, “Introduce me to the folks, Rice. I’ve barely met some of them. We can start with that German family.” He threw an arm over the boy’s shoulder, steering him away.

Sarah failed to hide her amusement from Eli. “Just a clever way to get outta work, if ya ask me, which ya won’t. I suppose ya want to go, too. Well, go on. You ain’t met all these people, neither. Ain’t enough folks left for it to take long, anyhow.”

He sat back down and resumed his potato peeling. Sarah looked at him in dismay. Eli’s voice had been loud, and Rice and River had stopped, waiting for her to join them. Rice’s eager face and River’s glower left her torn for a second. But only for a second. She waved them away.

Supper was ready before they returned, and Sarah took advantage of the chance to look through her trunk. Somewhere there had to be something she could use to make Amy’s doll a new dress. Her supply of fabric was small, and she had plans for all of it. Dreams more than plans, she decided. It was what she hoped would get her started as a seamstress, along with taking in mending and probably laundry, as well. Surely she could part with a corner of something. She went through it all again, trying to decide what she could spare.

“You missin’ somethin’?”

Sarah jumped, almost knocking over the trunk. She steadied it as Eli climbed into the back of the wagon. His body blocked the light that came through the back flap. She turned up the wick on the lantern with an unsteady hand.

“No,” she answered him. “I was just trying to decide on something.”

“Didn’t mean to spy, but ya looked like ya’d lost somethin’.” Eli sat on a crate and showed no sign of going away.

Sarah considered a moment and decided the truth might bore him into leaving. “I was looking for something to use to make a doll dress.”

Eli grunted, and Sarah waited for the muttering to start. “Won’t need much to fit that shabby little doll ya was practicin’ surg’ry on yesterday.”

Sarah almost smiled. “That’s the one,” she said. She didn’t look at him but carefully smoothed her pieces as she packed them back into the trunk.

“Pete had a couple extra shirts.”

Sarah stared at him in surprise. He was scratching his whiskered chin. “One was kind of a bluelike gray color. Almost new, I think, when he tore it up some. Oughta work.” He got up and moved some boxes, looking for Milburn’s personal trunk.

There was barely enough room in the wagon for the two of them and all the things that were stored there. Sarah moved to the back and pulled the flap open further. She hoped Eli would think she was trying to give him more light. The last thing she wanted was him asking why the enclosed wagon made her so uncomfortable.

Eli found the trunk and opened it. “Got to go through all this stuff, anyhow. Guess it’s Rice’s now, but he won’t miss the shirt.” He found what he was looking for and closed the trunk, carrying the shirt to Sarah. As he handed it to her, he asked in a lowered voice, “Where’d you know River from?”

Sarah was so startled she was sure she jumped again. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.

They heard Rice’s voice and River’s laugh. In a few seconds they would be at the fire. She clutched the shirt and wondered if its price was information.

After watching her a moment, Eli said, “Don’t matter,” and climbed out of the wagon.

Sarah stayed behind, closing her trunk and putting the shirt and her sewing box where she could get to them easily. Last, she blew out the lantern and, hoping she looked calmer than she felt, left the wagon.

The others had already filled their plates, and Sarah did the same, looking for a place to sit away from them. She needed time to think, to decide what to do about Eli.

“Sit here, Miss Sarah,” Rice called, and she had no choice but to sit near him, near River.

“River said he didn’t see no sign of Indians today, did you, River?”

Sarah tried to give the boy her full attention without looking at River. She heard River’s negative response and looked quickly at her plate.

“But we might see some Pawnee anytime,” Rice added, making sure Sarah knew he had his facts straight.

“Could.” There was humor in the familiar voice, and Sarah couldn’t resist looking up to see the face. He was trying not to smile as he continued to eat his meal, but there was merriment in his eyes as he gave the boy a sidelong glance. “You been scaring Miss Sarah with Indian stories?”

His eyes met Sarah’s, and she held them for a moment before she turned to Rice, pretending her heart wasn’t beating alarmingly fast. Were those blue eyes alone enough to cause it? Or was it fear that sent her pulse racing? Even now, she was sure Eli watched her.

“I told Miss Sarah there wouldn’t likely be trouble but we are in Pawnee territory.”

“It’s Pawnee territory as long as they can keep it,” Eli put in. “There’s gonna be more folks who ain’t satisfied to just pass through. Like that Hollenberg fella.”

River chewed his food thoughtfully. “Now, some folks would say that anybody who can manage to take it from the Indians has a right to it. Maybe our Miss Sarah, here, would agree with that.”

Sarah looked up to see the blue eyes on her, all humor in them gone. She heard Eli grunt; he didn’t expect an answer. But River did. They both knew he wasn’t talking about Indian land. Did he think she would offer some excuse in front of all these people? An admission of guilt? An apology? She felt her face turn red with anger. It took an effort to pull her eyes away from his piercing gaze.

“Excuse me,” she murmured. She rose and carried her plate to the lead wagon. She didn’t want to go back and sit with the others; she needed a little time alone. Slowly she stepped around the wagon, letting it block the firelight. The prairie was lit by the sunset’s pale afterglow. The air away from the fire was crisp and clear. She let it cool her burning cheeks.

River watched Sarah leave the camp. He felt a twinge of guilt and fought against it. She had made herself so damn comfortable with Eli and Rice that he felt like an outsider. He couldn’t resist the opportunity to remind her that he knew who she really was.

Still, it could be dangerous to wander away from the wagons. He took his plate to the back of the wagon and looked for Sarah without appearing to, he hoped. She was standing a short distance away, looking at the stars.

He grabbed his saddlebags and walked back to the firelight, choosing a different seat, one where he could see Sarah through the gap between the wagons. “Rice, let me see your hat,” he said.

“What for, River?” Rice asked. The anticipation in the youth’s eyes told River he could make a guess, however.

“Well,” River began as he lifted an odd bundle from his bag, “you know the doctor’s wife, Prudence? She was stomping around the camp one night when she let out this horrible scream.”

“A snake,” Rice whispered, watching as the cured skin appeared from River’s bundle. River handed him the rattle and he rolled it in his fingers reverently.

River glanced at Sarah once more before he began folding the skin to hatband width. “I didn’t know it was a snake at first. I was just glad she wasn’t screaming at me. When she paused for a breath, we heard the rattle. I didn’t think she was going to stand still for more than a second or two. In fact there was real danger that she’d faint away right on top of the snake. Hold this.” He handed the hat to Rice while he searched his bag for his sewing kit. He glanced toward the wagons. Sarah had moved.

For a moment he was torn between finishing Rice’s hat and going after Sarah. He told himself he was being ridiculous. There were things a person needed privacy to do; he couldn’t go crashing after her.

“What happened?” Rice asked, drawing his attention.

River cut a length of heavy thread and threaded it on a needle before he spoke. “I decided speed was the most important thing under the circumstances, and I jumped right on the snake.”

“Wrestled with it for nigh on an hour, I suppose,” Eli interjected. The other two ignored him.

“My boot heel came down just behind its head. I grabbed my knife and...” He made a slicing motion with his hand.

“Did Mrs. Carroll faint?” Rice asked.

“Nah,” River said. They read each other’s disappointment and laughed.

River looked up in time to see Sarah step over the wagon tongue. She hadn’t made any sound that he could identify. It was as though he had felt her return. He was much more relieved to see her than he wanted to admit.

Rice drew his attention back to his project by rattling the tail. River took several lengths of the thread and fastened one end to the seam at the back of the hatband. As Rice handed him the rattle, he spoke again. “I thought Ernest might faint when he saw me skinning the snake. He thought I planned to eat it, at first. Seems he’d seen my hatband but had never recognized it for what it was.”

“Did ya?” Eli asked.

“Did I what?” River winked at Rice as he handed him the hat.

“Did ya eat the snake?”

River glared at Eli for a moment, conscious that Sarah was watching him. “I thought about smoking it overnight just for you, but I was afraid it’d turn up in my supper if I did.”

* * *

It was early afternoon the next day when River found the perfect campsite. This was beautiful country, and the place he had chosen was shaded by oak and cottonwood. Willows grew near the swift clear stream. He turned his mount and set an easy pace toward the train. They would reach this site in about two hours, maybe less. It would be early to make camp, but everyone could use the rest.

The day before, the train had made its way across the hills from the Big Sandy to the Little Blue River with no water between but what they had stored in their barrels. It had been a long day, and he had had to push them until nearly dark in order to get to the river.

It’s what Milburn would have done. The thought came suddenly and made him smile. And I would have been the first to argue with him. He missed Milburn more than he would ever admit to Rice or Eli, but Eli had been right. The people of the train trusted him and followed his instructions.

Even Ernest and Prudence were causing him less trouble, now that they were with the larger train and River was officially in charge. Of course, they were easier to avoid with more people around.

Dr. Carroll had come to Eli’s fire during supper the night before to report that his wife and brother were unhappy about traveling so late. The good doctor sat and drank two cups of coffee before he mentioned it.

“Well, you can go back and tell ‘em you complained,” Eli had told him cheerfully.

River grinned at the recollection. The grin didn’t last. Also at the fire had been Sarah. Avoiding her wasn’t as easy as he had thought. Because of the communal nature of trail life, they virtually lived together.

At camp she was always with Eli, and sometimes he simply had to talk to Eli. During the day, she was with Rice, and River found himself avoiding his friend because of Sarah.

What kind of lies is she telling the boy? he wondered. He had seen her charm work before, and Rice certainly was taken with her. He toyed with the idea of separating them by asking Eli to take her on his wagon, but how would he explain? He had promised to keep her secret, and he would, but that promise would last only as long as hers did. If I get one hint that she’s up to something, he vowed, Rice and Eli get the whole story.

The train had come into view, and River put spurs to his horse to reach them. He pulled up at the lead wagon. “About three miles ahead is a clearing where the river turns left.”

Eli squinted at him. “It’ll be a little early to stop, won’t it?”

“Yeah, maybe. We put in a hard day yesterday. I, for one, could use a rest.”

“Won’t never get nowhere restin’.”

River knew to expect that kind of comment from Eli, but it irritated him, anyway. “It’s a good camp, old man. Don’t argue with me.”

Eli cracked the whip over the backs of the oxen and muttered, “A body can’t express himself without bein’ accused of arguin’.”

River refused to feel guilty. “I need to talk to Rice,” he said, pulling on the reins.

“Wait!”

River rode beside Eli again.

“Been meaning to ask ya somethin’,” Eli began. “Where do ya know Sarie from?”

River managed his most carefree shrug. “What makes you think I know her?”

“Ain’t sure why I think so, just do.” He thought on it and added, “She watches ya.”

River laughed. “Eli, lots of women watch me.” He pulled up on the reins and let the wagon move ahead. He could hear Eli, calling after him or talking to himself, River couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t going to bother to find out.