Sam’s heart pounded as if he’d run a mile as he swung up into the wagon. The rustling of straw as Olive thrashed about drew him. The small enclosure was darker than the moonlit night, but his gaze adjusted quickly while he moved to her side.
“No!” She cried out. “I’m sorry. No more!”
“Olive.” He spoke her name softly, but she continued to toss about from side to side. He grasped her shoulder.
She jerked from his touch as if he’d hit her. “No-o-o.” More words were mumbled and full of fear.
“Olive!” He had to stop her dream. “Olive, wake up!” He shook her shoulder.
Her eyes popped open. She stared at him with a terror-stricken expression, the whites of her eyes visible in the darkness. Before he could reassure her, she lunged, grabbing him around the neck. “Sam, oh Sam, help me.”
What could he do now? His arms closed around her as he sank to the edge of her bed. Holding her close, he whispered reassurances. “It’s all right. I’m here. No one will hurt you without coming through me.” He stroked her hair, knowing he was treading into dangerous waters, but loving the warmth of her in his arms and the trust she displayed by being there. “You had a bad dream.”
“But it was so real.” She pulled away as if realizing where she was. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have …”
Sam reluctantly released her and stood while she sat back, pulling her thin cover up to her neck. “It’s all right. You had a bad dream. Sometimes it helps to talk about them.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She shook her head.
“You don’t think it helps?” He took a step back in case his presence bothered her. “I’d be glad to listen, but if you want me to leave, I’ll go.”
“Would you stay a few minutes?”
He couldn’t resist the pleading in her voice. “I guess a few minutes won’t hurt.” He found a trunk to sit on several feet away. “Is this all right?”
“I suppose.” Her voice sounded pitiful.
“Why don’t you tell me what your dream was about?” He’d rather hold her again.
“I don’t know.”
Didn’t know or didn’t want to talk about it? “Sounded to me as if someone was hurting you.”
“No!” She covered her face with her hands as sobs shook her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Olive.” Sam’s heart sank. He’d brought the fear back by reminding her. “Please, don’t cry.”
“I w-won’t.” She lifted her head as her breath came in short hitches. With the corner of the sheet, she dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever you do, don’t be sorry.” What happened to the strong woman he’d come to know? She’d been whipped down by a nightmare? That’s what it sounded like to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I was just so frightened.” She took a deep breath and released it with a sigh. “What kind of man is Michael Dugan?”
“Mike?” Where did he fit in? “Pretty well normal with some ambition and the money to back him, I guess. Why? Was he in your dream?”
“Oh, I hope not!” The bed rustled as she shifted.
“Are you afraid to marry him?” Maybe he shouldn’t ask such a question, but he’d wondered. She’d said she wanted out. Would she go through with it anyway? Now the dream. Could her fears of marrying a man she didn’t know have caused it? Fear of the unknown could be very real.
“I don’t know if I’m really afraid. Apprehensive, definitely. I’ve been thinking about my promise and don’t know what to do. I’d like to know all you can tell me. What is he really like?”
“Well,” Sam thought about his boss and friend. “He’s law abiding and busy with meetings pertaining to the growth of New Mexico. If it becomes a state, he may end up being the governor. At least, that’s his ambition.”
A strangled laugh came from her. “That could be scary in itself. I don’t see myself as a governor’s wife.”
“You’d be a wonderful governor’s wife. Or any kind of wife you wanted to be.” Even a foreman’s wife, but he couldn’t say such a thing and shouldn’t be thinking it. “Mike has a fine, large house with several bedrooms, five, I think. There’s a woman who cooks and another who cleans.” If he told her they were from the Indian reservation, she might not get any more sleep tonight.
“Oh, surely not!” She didn’t sound overly pleased. “I’ve never had help with my work. I wouldn’t know how to act.”
“I imagine Mike expects you to run the household, not do any of the actual work.” He couldn’t remember seeing Sunbeam helping the other women. “Olive, there’s something you need—”
“But is he a kind man?” Olive’s question cut into his attempt to tell the truth.
Something he figured was long overdue, but Mike had made him promise to keep quiet about Sunbeam. He said it would be best if the ladies met first then he could explain. Now she wanted to know if Mike was kind. “Misguided, maybe.”
“What?”
Had he spoken aloud? “I suppose you could call Mike kind. He seems to be fair in his dealings.”
“But that’s with other men.” She sounded annoyed. “I want to know how he will treat his wife.”
“Oh, of course.” Sam’s mind returned to Sunbeam, and he stifled a chuckle. Sunbeam wouldn’t put up with any mistreatment, not even from Mike. Furthermore, she had an army of brothers to back her. How Mike thought he’d get by with adding a wife without Sunbeam’s permission was a mystery. “We-ell.” He rubbed his neck. “I can’t imagine him physically abusing his wife. The worse I’ve seen is when he gets involved in some project. Then he can become a bit impatient and gruff in his speech. I’ve never seen him hit a woman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
When Olive didn’t speak, Sam felt as if he should. Now would be a perfect time to destroy the surprise she faced when they arrived at the Double D Ranch. Huh! Double D or double wife. “Olive, there are things we should talk about.”
She stifled a yawn then lay back down and curled up on her side. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve kept you way too long. I’ll be fine now. Thank you for coming to my rescue again.”
Her words slurred to a soft murmur, and his heart ached for her. Twice he’d tried to tell her about Sunbeam and both times been prevented. Maybe he shouldn’t. It wasn’t his place, after all, and he had promised to remain quiet. He hadn’t cared then. Olive Williams was a faceless woman until he looked into her eyes and saw the little girl he’d fallen for long years ago.
He stood looking at the slight bump she made under the cover, her hair dark against the pillow then as quietly as possible picked his way out of the wagon.
~*~
Some days later, Olive concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Her muscles ached, but she was determined to walk as long as she could. The alternative was riding with Sam, and she didn’t know if she could do that. Not after she’d behaved so outrageously when he’d come to her bedside after that horrible nightmare. Seeing Joshua’s watch in his hands had set off memories she wanted to forget. Fears she never wanted to feel again. Ending in Sam’s arms had brought sweet emotions better left alone. She’d managed to avoid him for days now by appearing to be busy any time he came near. At the noon breaks she started sitting close to Mrs. Howell while they ate, stirring up conversations with the older woman. Anything from quilt patterns to recipes, or even talking about the Howell’s grandchildren, kept Sam from coming too near.
The last wagon had left their company two days ago, leaving their two wagons to travel on alone. Olive walked with Mrs. Howell when the older woman tired of riding on the hard, bumpy seat, but most of the time she walked by herself. And thought far too much about Sam. She refused to turn around and look toward the wagon he drove. Not that she needed to. His image was clear enough in her mind.
“Lord, help me!” She lifted the words in a petition. “Why did I have to fall in love with him? Because as sure as I’m trudging down this road, that’s what has happened. What will I do? I don’t want to marry Mr. Dugan, but how can I break the promise now?”
Silent tears ran down her dusty cheeks. She brushed them away as others took their place. She missed Sam. Sitting beside him on the wagon, learning to drive, talking about their childhoods. Except the one time he’d confided about his step-mother, Sam spoke only of his happy memories before he’d lost his mother. But it’d been a week since they’d talked as more than polite strangers. And it was her fault. She should’ve known better than to fall in love with him.
That evening when they stopped, after caring for the horses, Sam walked back into camp and leaned against the end of the wagon, his arms folded across his chest.
Olive scooped biscuits out of the pan she’d just taken from the coals. Then she placed them one at a time on their plates. Her hands trembled slightly as she felt Sam’s presence before lifting her gaze to his. Before he could speak, she turned quickly and stirred the beans still bubbling over the fire.
“They’re ready.” Mrs. Howell stood to the side, her eyes watchful as they shifted from Olive to Sam. “I just checked.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Olive was so aware of Sam, she could barely think.
“We’re just outside Independence.” His voice startled her and the long-handled spoon clanked against the pot. “There may be more folks in the area so be aware of your surroundings.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” Mr. Howell stopped beside his wife.
“No.” Sam was quick to answer. Maybe too quick. “Just being careful since we’re close to a populated area.”
They’d been close to populated areas before. Olive turned and met Sam’s gaze. She sucked in her breath. Had he been watching her? She straightened her shoulders. “Is this a larger town than Columbia?”
His expression seemed to soften as he gave one nod. “Yes, Olive, it is, but I don’t expect any trouble. We’re close to town, but no one knows we’re here. Please, don’t worry.”
“All right, I won’t.” She turned from him to dish up the beans.
As soon as supper was over and the dishes were put away, Olive told Mrs. Howell she was tired and wanted to get some rest then headed toward her bed, imagining Sam’s gaze on her back with every step she took.
Inside the wagon, she didn’t change into her nightgown, but sat in the middle of her straw mattress with her Bible and read from the Psalms. As always, they brought peace to her heart. A peace she needed. Outside, the usual sounds of the others drifted inside letting her know when the Howells went into their wagon. What she didn’t know was Sam’s whereabouts. Then a sharp rap sounded on the back of her wagon, and her heart leapt.
“Olive, are you all right?”
Sam! She considered remaining silent. Maybe he’d go away. Only he wouldn’t. More than likely he’d climb inside to check on her. With that thought, her heart pounded. “I’m fine, just tired.”
“Would you like to talk?”
Her hand moved to rub the base of her throat as if to calm the beating in her chest. Yes, she wanted to talk to him, but she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe never. “No, just leave me alone, please.”
She waited but heard nothing more than the cicadas in a nearby tree. Funny, she hadn’t noticed their serenade until that moment. After a while a hard thud hit the side of the wagon as if he’d slapped it, then the faint sound of him leaving overrode the cicadas. Her breath stilled as she waited a few minutes until the next thing she heard was the sound of hoof beats. She jumped up, hurried to the back, and peered out.
Sam rode his horse, Bullseye, out of camp. But why?
Tears filled her eyes for a reason beyond understanding. He had every right to do whatever he wanted. Yet, somehow, she knew it was her fault. She’d gone too far and he was leaving her.