Chapter Seven

~ Returning Home ~

 

After they finished a lunch of bread and cheese, Lorrie was packing away the food, when Star said, “I didn’t want to worry you before now, but when I went back for more flour, it was an excuse to look around. Two men have been watching us for a couple days now. I probably wouldn’t have noticed them, but one of them laughed and called me a half breed.”

Lorrie hissed. She hadn’t even known what that meant until they’d visited the trading post. “You think they mean trouble?”

“Two lone women with a wagon, horses, and supplies heading down the trail alone could be an invitation to some men.”

Lorrie laughed. “Well, they sure don’t know us. You think it’s only two?”

Star looked at her in surprise. “Pretty sure.”

“So, would they ambush us along the way, or wait until we make camp and are sleeping? That would be easiest for us because we’d be ready. Otherwise one of us has to drive, and the other wait for them, who’d come running back—no time to unpack or unhitch—if she heard a ruckus.”

Star nodded. “I think you’re right. I’ll take Swift off the trail and call out that I have to find some bushes for a few minutes.”

Lorrie smiled. “Now that’s a good plan. I think they’d fall for that invitation, but why should you have all the fun?” And Lorrie remembered her excitement earlier with Bolt; she’d better work at reining her emotions in uncertain situations.

Star was even more surprised. “Can you sneak up on them?”

“Have you ever shot a man?” Lorrie retorted. “I’ll wait off the trail and listen. I don’t think they’ll bother to skulk.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” Star protested.

“Nope. I’m supposed to be protecting you. I promised your mother!” Star looked annoyed.

“All right. We’ll take turns. After all we don’t know when they’ll decide to jump us.”

“Sounds fair,” Lorrie said after considering it. “But I get to go first.” She thought the men wouldn’t wait, but she saw that Star didn’t think Lorrie should have all the responsibility either. She saw Star‘s point. Friends should share.

They decided to bait their first trap a few miles down the road. If anything happened, the animals could rest after working hard. Lorrie was disappointed when nothing happened. Star took her turn. Again, all was quiet. They kept going longer this time, and closer to dark, Jake shook his head and turned into the team, bringing them to a stop. Lorrie wrapped the reins around the brake and had a sudden suspicion. Grabbing the rifle and bullets for her pistol, she leaped off the wagon and vanished into the bushes. The team waited uneasily.

Star was nowhere to be seen. She’d been a few lengths behind the last time Lorrie had looked back. Had the men grabbed her? Then she heard a man yell as shots rang out. Running back down the trail she came upon Star wrestling with one man while another was on the ground with a wounded arm, but he had a gun aimed at the two struggling figures.

Lorrie decided it was best to take him out before helping Star, but before she could shoot, Jake had burst past her and attacked the man with his teeth, and when Lorrie wrenched her gaze away from him, Star was wiping her knife on her man’s shirt.

“Next time it’s my turn,” Lorrie complained, but she did not enjoy dealing with the bodies. Star dug a rope out of Swift’s saddle bag, and they roped the bodies and had Swift drag them to the rocky drop off they’d decided to use after a quick search of the area.

“We’d best throw the saddles down too,” Star advised, “though it’s a pity to waste them. We’ll just turn the horses loose; they may go back to the fort or maybe someone will steal them. That’d be good.”

Lorrie nodded. Star had already called Swift in, and they rode double down the trail to the wagon where the horses still waited under Jake’s watchful eye. “He’s fast,” Lorrie commented, “and he didn’t lose the pack, though the chickens may never be the same. I’m afraid to look. They’re awfully quiet. You did a really good job of packing, though, Star.”

“He was careful, I think, but how did he get loose? He must have chewed through the rope.”

“Nope,” Lorrie replied after she picked the rope up from the ground. “It’s still tied to his halter. He untied it from the wagon and must have carried it so he wouldn’t step on it. It’s awfully wet, and I think there’s some blood on it!”

“From the man he finished off. I’m not even sure he needed to stomp him. You know, Tommy was right. We do need Jake more than he did.” They looked at the big black mule with more than a little disbelief.

They kept on till almost dark, not wanting to stop too close to what they’d left behind. “Are you going to tell your folks, Star?” Lorrie was curious. She didn’t think it was the kind of thing a parent wanted to hear, though she’d been an orphan for a long time. They were eating a light supper of cheese and bread after checking the chickens and letting them out to recover and eat. One staggered a lot, but the others perked up after finding some bugs near a rotted log.

“Yes,” Star told her, after some thought. “I think they’ll be happy to hear that I can take care of myself.”

“You certainly did. And here I was feeling smug and thinking it’d be me ’cause I had the experience.”

“I think you’re used to rushing in and taking over—maybe,” Star mused.

Lorrie looked at her friend. “You think that I’m too headstrong?”

Star looked at her. “You said once—a long time ago—that you missed your uncle. That he’d been taking care of you for a long time. Do you miss that? Being taken care of, I mean.”

Lorrie had to stop and think back. “No, I feel free. I never thought that before.”

“Just so you’re careful when you get that urge, Lorrie. Now I think I’d better lock the chickens back up. We’ll flush the crate again in the morning.” And they both went to their blankets, mulling over the day and the discussion. And Lorrie told herself once again that she did need to be more cautious before rushing in.

It took longer to return with an overloaded wagon and livestock to herd, but at night, after Jake was unpacked, he herded the livestock and kept them from straying too far. He seemed to enjoy herding them back, they noticed. Several days later they stopped the wagon in front of the Johnson’s store to give them some of the supplies they’d brought back for the store. Young George loved the duck so it became his responsibility.

It was Clifford’s responsibility to take care of his new little sister, Sarah, who’d been born while they were gone. Elizabeth Johnson bustled up and down the front steps with supplies; and she and Lorrie discussed what seemed fair for the costs of what Lorrie brought back, and Sallie Sue kept records of what they owed her. The whole family was busy and also grateful to have their mother taking care of them instead of all of them taking care of her.

Then Lorrie drove the wagon and the livestock up to their homesteads. Hannah got all the chickens since Evan had built a big coop for them, and Hannah decided which ones would go into the cooking pot. The rest of the cheese, beans, sugar, and other staples were divided between the two cabins since Lorrie would be eating here and there.

Star took Lightning home packed with supplies. “You’ve earned them,” Lorrie said, “and just think how pleased your folks will be to have more supplies for the winter.” Lorrie had bought a number of trade blankets for winter and shared them with each home. Most of her furniture and supplies were under the big wagon’s canvas. She looked forward to having them safe under her roof, though they’d be moved inside wherever there was room in another cabin or at the Johnson’s when it had its second story.

After unloading, she visited each home to look at its progress. The Browns’ cabin’s root cellar was finished and lined with stone that the oxen had hauled down from the rocky slopes. The walls were up and the roof nearly finished. Evan was concentrating on shingles now for all the roofs. Their lean-to was ready for the livestock, though it would be snug, but all the warmer for that. Hannah spent a lot of her time chinking.

The Michaels’ house/barn was finished, the roof up, and the loft snug for supplies. Dennis had decided to use a stall for his room, and he’d started on a cellar in hopes of getting it dug before the ground froze. The Johnsons’ second story was started, and they hoped to finish it before winter, and they’d started on a barn for their stock and hay. It was almost October, and the men worked from house to house to barn as the women harvested and canned. Brock Summers announced one day that his winter preparations were finished, and he helped build. The three wood stoves for heating and cooking were divided among the three homes, though the Michaels’ was stored at the Johnson’s; Lorrie knew she’d have to be satisfied with a fireplace until she could find another stove. Still, a fireplace sounded good, since it meant that she’d have a house to put it in—someday.