Читать книгу High Plains Bride - Valerie Hansen - Страница 12

For Emmeline, the waiting and standing helplessly idle were hard to bear. She began to salvage household items that were close at hand and pile them next to the wagon box as she watched Will riding in ever-widening arcs away from the main trail. The country was so vast, so untamed, it seemed as if his task was insurmountable.

She was relieved to note that the distant Indians had apparently gone away. That was something to count as a blessing, at least. If only Mama wasn’t so downtrodden. Emmeline was grown, yes, but she still would have welcomed someone else being able to share some of the responsibility for her family’s welfare, even if that provided her only a few minutes’ respite.

Looking back along the rutted trail that had brought them to this place, she kept expecting to glimpse the aid Will had assured her was on its way. So far, there had been no sign of other settlers or their wagons. If they had experienced the storm at even half the strength that she and her kin had, there was no telling when they would be moving forward again.

Will finished another sweep through the tall grasses, then returned to where Emmeline waited with the stack of soggy bedding and other salvaged items.

“Did you see any sign of them?” she asked, knowing what his answer would be from his grave countenance.

He bent in his saddle to speak quietly with her. “No. How is your mother faring?”

“Not well, I’m afraid. Glory is so sweet the way she’s trying to cheer her, though Johnny is his usual moody self. But Mama has been weeping ever since she heard what happened to Papa. She just keeps sitting there and calling his name, over and over again.”

“That’s understandable. She’s had a bad shock. Do you want to stay here with her?”

“Or do what?” Emmeline asked.

“I thought, if there were two of us looking, we might have a better chance of spotting your sister.”

“You told me to avoid going out alone.”

“Yes, I did.”

Although the sky was still cloudy and his hat brim shaded his ruggedly handsome face, Emmeline was positive she could see his cheeks grow rosy. That led her to ask, “Are you suggesting that we both ride your horse?”

“I apologize,” Will replied. “I realize that a good Christian lady like you—”

“You’re right. Normally I wouldn’t consider riding double with you. But my sister and two helpless little children are missing. I’m not the kind of person to stand on etiquette if my actions might save them from whatever dangers lie out there.”

“All right. Go tell the others what we’re going to do and let’s head out again. It’ll be dark in another few hours. Time’s a-wasting.”

She knew he was right. More than right. He had to be downplaying the imminent danger to Bess and to everyone else. The sooner they located the lost members of her party and rejoined the larger group from the wagon train, the safer everyone would be.

It immediately struck Emmeline that their place in the westward-bound convoy would probably remain empty when the rest of the pioneers reassembled and pressed on. She could not hope to ready their damaged wagon and find a new team in time to go along, nor could she make other plans—not until they’d found Bess, Missy and Mikey.

If they found them.

Waiting aside, Will watched as Emmeline spoke quietly with the surviving members of her family. No one had yet asked about arranging burial for Amos, but he knew that subject would soon arise. There was a small cemetery on the outskirts of High Plains, next to the community church. The blacksmith’s wife, Sarah, and their newborn child had been the first interred there, much to everyone’s sorrow, but they hadn’t been the last. Still, there would be room for Amos Carter. Will would see to that. The man would have a better resting place than a shallow grave beside the trail, even if that was what many pioneers had been forced to settle for in the past and surely would again. Making the long trek to the new state of Oregon was hazardous, at best. Many dreams had ended in tragedy on that trail, just as this family’s had. But for Emmeline’s sake, Will would make sure her father had a decent Christian burial.

He urged his horse forward as Emmeline returned. “Did you decide to come with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get a move on.”

Reaching up, she grasped the wrist of the hand he offered. He easily swung her up to ride behind the cantle of his saddle. It did surprise him a bit that she chose to sit astride, but given the sorry state of her formerly lovely dress, it was certainly not going to harm her clothing to do so.

“All set?” Will asked. Before she answered he felt her slim arms gently slipping around his waist.

“Yes. If you will permit me to hold on.”

“As you said, this is no time for us to worry about keeping to etiquette. I certainly won’t think poorly of you for doing so, ma’am. And I’m sure your missing sister will agree, too, once we’ve found her.”

He gave the horse a nudge with his heels and started back onto the prairie. By now, some of the beaten-down grasses had recovered and sprung back, making movement a little easier but cutting down on distance visibility.

Even while she was sitting astride the gelding, Will knew that Emmeline would barely be able to see over the tops of the big bluestem once it was back to its full height. By late summer, some of that prairie grass would reach a height of ten feet or more. It was great fodder for his cattle and the wild buffalo. It just wasn’t an ideal place for conducting a search.

Will’s innate sense of direction stood him in good stead. He knew which ground he had already covered and didn’t repeat that path, thereby saving time.

“I forgot to ask. What colors were they wearing?” he inquired, more for something to say than because he needed to know. Given the normal greens and browns of the prairie and the drifts of so many different varieties of blooming wildflowers, spotting unnatural objects lying within the cover of the vegetation would be extremely difficult, no matter what, but any clue could help.

His heart gave an unexpected jolt when his passenger tightened her hold on him and leaned forward to speak past his left shoulder.

“Bess had on a blue calico, like mine,” Emmeline said. “I don’t remember what the twins were wearing. I suppose Missy was wearing one of Bess’s old dresses, and I recall the pink ribbons in her hair. And Mikey always wore Johnny’s shirts over breeches that were way too short.” Her voice caught for a moment before she recovered and went on. “We used to tease him about being so skinny that his old pants still fit, even if they were practically knee britches by now.”

“Okay. Just keep your eyes open. I’m going to head for a bluff nearby in the hopes they found shelter there.”

“We didn’t know where to go or what to do,” Emmeline said. “I suppose I should have pulled everyone into the wagon, but I thought Mama would have sense enough to run away with Glory and me.”

“Is that how you ended up outside while your mother was trapped?”

“No.”

Will felt her slumping as she eased away, relaxed a little and gave an audible sigh.

“I was in the wagon when the wind picked me up and carried me off,” Emmeline said. “Glory, too. The last thing I remember is praying that the baby would be all right. Then, everything went dark.”

He reined in. The saddle leather creaked as he swiveled to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why didn’t you tell me all that before? Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“As sure as I can be, considering,” Emmeline said. “I know I bumped my head, and it was pounding when I woke up, but it seems all right now, and I think that was the worst of it. That, and a few little scratches. If Glory and I had been in that wagon when it flipped over, one or both of us could have been caught halfway out and killed just like Papa was.”

The very mention of that possibility gave Will the chills. His simple urge to locate the little family and check on their welfare had not prepared him for finding this lovely young woman injured—or worse. All along, he had been picturing himself arriving to help her, just as he had. Now, when he thought about the chances that she might have been killed, his heart lurched like a frightened pony.

“Well, you weren’t badly hurt, so we can give thanks for that,” he said, hoping he sounded encouraging instead of the way he was really feeling. The fact that they had found no trace of her sister or the younger children was not a good sign. Not good at all.

He paused on the next hillock to stretch in the saddle, shade his eyes against the glare of the setting sun and scan the lower-lying landscape. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

“Just scattered blankets and a few smaller things. Mama’s bedding and most of our clothing must have been carried for miles and miles.”

“I’ll help you gather up more of it later. Right now, first things first.”

He was about to turn and take Emmeline back to the Carter wagon when she tightened her hold on his rib cage with one arm, pointed with the other and screeched, “Stop!” frightening the horse enough to cause it to jump and prance sideways, almost unseating them both.

Will jerked back on the reins and managed to quiet the fractious horse and regain control before he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Over there!” she shouted. “See that blue fabric? It looks like Bess’s dress!”

In Emmeline’s opinion, reaching the prostrate form of her poor sister was taking an eternity. She kept kicking the horse in the flanks while Will held it in check with a tight rein.

“Faster!” she insisted. “Either hurry up or let me off right here.”

“If we gallop and the little ones are lying in the grass where we can’t see them, it’ll just make matters worse. Settle down. We’re almost there.”

She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to bide her time. Patience had never been one of her virtues and being embroiled in this tragedy had not helped one iota.

If anything, it had made her more anxious. That was not something she considered a fault or a sin. On the contrary, she thought she was doing well to keep from screaming at the poor man whom she knew was merely trying to help.

“Bess!” Emmeline called. “Bess, I’m here. I’m coming.”

The figure lying prostrate on a patch of rocky ground did not stir.

As Will reined in beside it, Emmeline pushed herself back, slid over the horse’s rear and dropped to the ground. She was already kneeling at her sister’s side and shaking the girl’s shoulders when Will joined her.

“Is she alive?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s breathing, thank the Lord. I don’t know why she doesn’t wake up.”

“Don’t be too rough with her,” he warned. “She might have broken bones.”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” Emmeline keened as tears slipped down her cheeks and fell to bathe her sister’s face.

“You didn’t make the bad weather and you weren’t responsible for your father’s decision to press on,” he countered.

Then it must be God’s fault for not looking after us, she thought so quickly, so instinctively that she was unable to censor it. Instead of voicing that disturbing conclusion, she said, “Bess doesn’t deserve this. She’s never hurt a fly.”

Will had been studying the area around them. He bent and hefted a portion of a large tree limb that lay a few yards away. “I think this is what may have hit your sister in the head and knocked her out. Check in her hair and see if there’s a lump.”

Following his instructions, Emmeline found one small wound at Bess’s temple and a welt on the back of her head. “Yes. There’s a goose egg and…” She cradled the girl’s head and shoulders and was about to continue searching for further injuries, when the younger girl stirred.

“Bess? Dear? It’s Emmeline. You’re safe now.”

Her sister’s eyelashes fluttered. Grinning while shedding tears of relief and thankfulness, Emmeline looked to Will. “I think—”

“Yes. She’s coming around.” He crouched next to them.

When Bess’s eyes opened and focused on Emmeline, she opened her mouth as if to speak. Her eyes widened in apparent terror. Emmeline had thought the girl was going to scream, but no sound came forth. Nor were there tears.

Continuing to cradle her and taking her hand, Emmeline patted it gently, reassuringly. “It’s all right, Bess. I’m here. You’re going to be fine.”

The fifteen-year-old seemed to relax some, but made no reply.

“I have a friend here with a horse. We’ll take you back to the wagon just as soon as we locate Missy and Mikey,” Emmeline explained. “Where are they? Did you all find a place to hunker down?”

Receiving not the slightest nod, let alone a lucid answer, she was beginning to grow terribly concerned. She glanced at Will. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with her. Could a bump on the head cause her to lose her voice?”