Sitting in a grove of trees near the ferry, Luther couldn’t tell who the woman was driving the Larson wagon. She had on a bonnet and it covered her head and face. He had a feeling it was Fiona, and he had the notion to ride right up to the wagon and find out, but his instinct told him he’d better be sure. She sat erect and her figure looked as pleasing as it had the day she drove away from the funeral. But he knew Larson would kill him if he was wrong. He had to be positive before he made his move. He knew Larson probably hadn’t turned the wagon over to his pregnant wife, so Fiona would be the next choice. Only trouble was, he didn’t see the woman they called Sarah anywhere. It could be her driving.
Larson was on his horse and he seemed to be scouting out the side banks and bushes for the livestock which was being driven across. “Damn bastard is probably looking for me.” He spit tobacco juice and pulled back a little more under cover of the trees.
The first few wagons had paid their toll and had been ferried across the river. The Larson wagon was in the middle of the group and it would be a while before it went across. Markin didn’t want to sit here all day. Trying to make up his mind about what to do, he strained to look at the woman, but couldn’t see any better. “Damn, why didn’t I buy a spy glass?” He moved his horse a little closer to the edge of the trees.
Larson pulled his horse to a stop and stared in his direction. Luther barely breathed. He knew he could take off if he was spotted, but he preferred to stay hidden. There was no need to let them know he’d be following.
In a few minutes, Larson rode up to the wagon. He said something to the woman, then moved back to hitch his horse to the back. He climbed up onto the seat and helped the woman back into the wagon bed. The woman was holding her stomach as she disappeared inside.
Luther shook his head. He’d have to wait until all the wagons were across before he got on the ferry. Or did he have to get on today? They wouldn’t go more than four of five miles after the crossing. He could go back to town, have a good meal, a few drinks in the saloon, and maybe even take one of those fancy city women upstairs. He grinned at the thought, and with his mind made up, he turned his horse toward town. “Yeah, Fiona Webb. I’ll have plenty of time to catch up with you in the next few days. Them damn oxes and mules don’t travel fast. Probably be best for you to get a little ways from town before I get you anyway. There’s another train pulling out at the end of the week. It might be wiser to get between them. Give me some protection.”
* * * *
The wagon train made four miles after the river crossing. At five o’clock, Zeke sent word down the line to set up camp. The wagons ground to a halt after circling to provide a corral for the horses, cows, oxen, and mules. While the men unhitched and settled the animals, the women built fires and began fixing their family meal. Fiona insisted that Rose rest while she put the coffee pot on the fire and began slicing bacon.
After a few minutes, Rose said, “I want to help, Fiona. I make awfully good biscuits. Please let me make them tonight.”
“If you insist, but only because I’m not the world’s best at making biscuits. My sister-in-law was the whiz at baking in our household. I’m sure after such a hard day Clint would love to taste your cooking.”
Rose moved next to her. “He was surprised I could cook at all. He said he figured I’d never bothered to learn, but he was wrong. Cook let me help her in the kitchen when Mother or Father didn’t know. It was usually when she was doing the baking, so I learned baking best of all.”
Fiona couldn’t help wondering why Rose left a life with servants to marry a cowboy like Clint and start on this hard and perilous journey to Oregon. Then she remembered Clint and realized it wouldn’t be hard to give up the easy life for a man like him.
Biting her lip to push such thoughts from her mind, she moved her supplies to one end of the small fold-up table so Rose could use the vacant area for making her biscuits. She then turned back to the frying pan and began placing her thick slices of bacon in it. While at the fire, she stirred the pot of beans which she had hung on the cross sticks to cook.
“Why don’t we open a jar of those peach preserves we have to go with the biscuits?” Rose said, breaking into her thoughts. “Clint loves those preserves.”
Fiona was glad to have something neutral to talk about. “I’ll get a jar as soon as I get this all to cooking.”
By the time Fiona had everything sizzling and had climbed into the wagon and found the preserves, Rose had finished the biscuits and buried the Dutch oven in the coals of the fire.
Rose moved to the quilt Fiona had spread on the ground and eased herself down. “I didn’t realize it would tire me so.”
“Please, rest. I should have refused to let you make the bread. Clint made it clear that I was to take work off of you.”
“Don’t worry about what Clint says, Fiona. He’s too overprotective. I can’t do nothing all the way to Oregon.”
“I think you’re doing enough by attempting this journey in your condition.” She looked at Rose. “Clint told me you were four months pregnant. When is the baby due, anyway?”
Rose ducked her head, but said nothing.
“Did I ask the wrong question?”
“Not really.” Rose looked at her. “Clint thinks I’m four months pregnant. If everything goes well this trip only takes four months. He hopes I won’t have the baby until we get to Oregon.”
Fiona eyed her. “Is he wrong?”
Rose nodded. “I’m in my seventh month.”
“Oh, my Lord, Rose. You could...” Fiona walked up to her and looked down at the woman who was bound to give birth before the wagon train came to their destination. This would be a hardship on the pregnant woman. “Your baby could come at any time. Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Independence and have your child, then make this journey?”
“I’m sure. We have to get away.” She took Fiona’s hand. “You have to promise me you won’t tell Clint I’m farther along than he thinks.”
“But...”
“Please, Fiona. Promise me.”
When she looked into Rose’s pleading eyes, Fiona felt there was nothing she could do except keep the secret. Her voice was soft when she said, “I won’t tell him, Rose.”
Rose’s eyes met hers and Fiona knew Rose believed her.
Before anything else could be said, Joey came running up. “Ma, guess what?”
“What?” Fiona turned to him.
“Benny and me decided we would camp out together tonight. Is it all right, Ma?”
Fiona thought a minute. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, Joey.”
“Ah, Ma. Please. I want to stay with Benny. Stanly from up the way is going to be here. We’ll all sleep under the wagon.”
“I’m still not sure.”
“What are you not sure about, Fiona?” Clint walked up and joined the conversation.
Fiona glanced at him and her heart skipped a beat. She looked away. “Joey wants to spend the night under the wagon with Benny.”
“Do you plan to sleep under his wagon or ours, Joey?” Clint asked.
“I guess his.”
“Have Mr. and Mrs. Watson been asked?” Fiona looked at him with an arched eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Benny and Stanly and me talked about it. Susie wanted to stay too, but we said no girls were allowed. She got mad.”
Rose giggled. “No woman likes to be told she’s not allowed, Joey.”
“Why?”
“That’s the way women are, son.” Fiona looked at him.
“Why don’t I mosey over there and ask the Watsons if they know about these plans, then your Ma can decide if she wants you to sleep with the boys?” Clint started toward the Watson’s cook fire where Mattie was working.
Fiona nodded and turned back to stirring her beans. Joey looked away.
In a few minutes Clint returned. “Looks like the guys were making plans on their own, Fiona. Sarah said she’d told Benny earlier the boys could all sleep under their wagon sometime on the trail, but not tonight.”
“Then I guess that settles it. Next time I suggest you boys discuss your plans with your parents first.” She looked at Joey.
He looked away and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”
After a minute of silence, Rose started to stand. “I think I’d better check my biscuits.”
Clint took her hand to help her up. “So, you made biscuits?”
“I sure did.”
“Boy, Joey, you and your Ma are in for a treat. Nobody makes biscuits as well as Rose.”
“My Mama could.”
Fiona quickly put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him next to her. “I appreciate the confidence you put in me, honey, but you know my biscuits aren’t as good.”
“But I meant my real...I mean I didn’t want your feelings to be hurt, Ma,” he stammered when he realized what he’d said.
“They’re not hurt, Joey.” She released him. “Now why don’t you get the plates and cups from the sack I took the cook pot out of.”
He scurried to pick up the sack containing the tin dinnerware and Fiona wondered if Rose and Clint noticed his blunder. She hoped not, but Clint had thrown his wife a quick glance. She knew she was going to have to explain the relationship between her and Joey soon, but not tonight.
In a matter of minutes they were sitting around the fire with their full plates. Fiona and Rose were sitting on buckets Clint had turned upside down for them. “We men can sit on the ground,” he said to Joey and sat down cross-legged beside his wife.
Joey grinned and sat down beside him.
Clint broke the silence. “I talked with Zeke today. He said the going would be awfully dusty tomorrow. He advised us to put bandannas around our mouths like bandits to keep from breathing the dust in.”
“Do I have a bandanna, Ma?”
“Yes, Joey. You have a red one and a blue one, I think.”
“I’ll wear the blue. I don’t think cowboys would wear red.”
Before she could answer, Clint said, “Of course cowboys wear red, son. It’s one of their favorite colors. I may wear a red one tomorrow myself.”
“Then I’ll wear the red one, Ma.”
Fiona shook her head. It was amazing how, in the short time they’d known the Larsons, Clint had influenced her nephew. She wasn’t sure she liked this. It’d be hard when they went their separate ways in their new home.
After a short silence, Joey spoke up. “I don’t want to hurt you feelings, Ma, but Aunt Rose’s biscuits are better than yours.”
Fiona laughed. “You’re right about that. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted better.”
“Well, thank you both very much.” Rose smiled at them.
Clint looked up at his wife and winked. “You know how much I like them, especially with the preserves.” He looked over at Joey. “Did you put preserves on yours?”
“I will now.”
“I think Rose and I should have preserves, too.” Fiona looked at Rose.
“I agree with Fiona.” Rose reached for the jar. “You two seem to be enjoying it a little too much.”
Fiona giggled. “You can’t leave us womenfolk out, you know.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t think of it, would we, Joey?”
“No, Uncle Clint, we wouldn’t.”
The rest of the meal was jovial and when they finished eating, Clint looked at Rose. “You look exhausted. I think you should try to get a good night’s sleep.”
“I think you’re right.” She looked around. “Do you mind if I don’t help clean up, Fiona?”
“Of course not. You need to rest as much as you can.”
Clint walked over to her and held out his hand. “I’ll see you to the wagon.”
She took the offered hand. “Thank you, Clint.”
Fiona watched as he walked her to the back of the wagon. They stood outside and chatted for a minute. He then leaned down and kissed her cheek before helping her climb onto the tailgate.
Fiona looked away and began clearing everything from the eating area. “Want to give me a hand, Joey?”
“Sure.” He came up beside her and handed her his plate. “Are you still mad at me, Au...Ma?”
She paused and looked down into his deep brown eyes. “Why do you think I’d be mad at you, Joey?”
“I didn’t ask before making plans to sleep out with Benny and Stanley.”
Fiona squatted down and put her arms around Joey. “Honey, you know I love you more than anything in the world. Even when I have to correct you, it’s because I love you, not because I’m mad at you.”
He grinned. “I’m glad because I love you, too. I want to live with you always.”
“You will live with me always, Joey.”
“Now, I don’t believe you told the boy such a thing, Fiona.”
She jerked her head up to stare into Clint’s green eyes. How dare him think she’d ever let Joey live with anyone else. “What do you mean? Of course he’ll always be with me.”
“Don’t believe her, Joey. She might fight tooth and fang to hang on to you, but one day you’re going to be a grown man and some pretty little girl is going to come along and steal you away.”
“I don’t want no old girl taking me away.”
“Oh, believe me, boy. You won’t mind one little bit. You’ll go happily and willingly. All she’ll have to do is give you a special little look and you’re a goner. Your Ma will have to take it like all mothers do when their special sons take up with another woman.”
“Clint, why are you telling him this? He’s a little boy.” Fiona shook her head at him.
“I ain’t so little, am I Uncle Clint?”
“You don’t look so little to me.”
“Well, I don’t want you putting ideas in his head.” She started to get up and Clint took her arm.
“Let me help you.”
A shudder went down her spine, but her voice was even when she said, “Thank you.”
“Looks like we need to help your ma get things cleaned up so we can get to bed soon, Joey.”
“Sure, Uncle Clint.” Seeing it was okay with Clint to clean up, Joey pitched in, without complaint.
Fiona was folding the towels and Clint said to her, “Rose and I talked it over and we decided you should sleep in the wagon with her tonight.”
She glanced at him. “I won’t run you out of your bed, Clint. Joey and I have a tent we can use. I have it propped there on the wagon. All I ask is that you help me set it up.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping in the wagon.” He gave her a devastating smile. “On the first night out, Zeke recommends for the men to sleep outside.”
“Why?”
He avoided her question. “How about letting Joey sleep out with me?”
“Can I, Ma? Can I?”
Fiona frowned. “Are you sure he should?”
“I think he’ll be fine. We’ll pitch the tent right beside the wagon.”
“Please, Ma. I want to sleep with Uncle Clint.”
“I guess it’ll be all right.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Thanks, Ma.” He whirled to Clint. “When are we going to go to bed?”
“In a little while, Joey. Why don’t you start opening up the tent? I’ll be there to help you in a minute.”
Joey darted toward the wagon with a whoop.
“Not so loud, Joey. Aunt Rose might have gone to sleep. She was very tired.”
Joey looked around and almost whispered. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’ll be quieter.”
Clint moved close to Fiona. “I didn’t mean to avoid your question about why Zeke recommended we sleep outside tonight. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Joey.”
“Oh?”
“Zeke said sometimes the wagon train is followed because robbers think the people will be tired and fast asleep the first few nights. He said he’s avoided several robberies this way.” When she started to say something, he added, “And I promise you, if anyone thinks they’ll rob you of Joey, they’ll have to face my gun.”
“I know you mean that, Clint, and I trust you.” She looked into his eyes and knew she was speaking the truth. “But I can’t help being concerned.”
He reached out and took her arm. “Thank you for trusting me, Fiona. I’m beginning to think of the little whippersnapper as my real nephew. I promise to take good care of him.”
Fiona felt the fire run up her arm from his touch. She wanted to jerk her arm away from him, at the same time she wanted him to pull her closer and put both arms around her. Trying to get her emotions in control, she muttered, “You know he’s beginning to idolize you.”
Joey looked back at them. “I’ve got it open, Uncle Clint. Can we set it up now?”
Clint dropped his hand from Fiona’s arm. “We sure can, Joey.” Throwing her a smile, he walked up to the side of the wagon and squatted beside the excited boy.