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As Leah expected, they traveled slowly with the heavy load. They spent Monday night at a farm near Yadkinville with a family the Picklers knew.
The Picklers had a bedroom together. Leah had a tiny room, but it had a bed, and she had some privacy. It would be fine for one night.
They left early the next day. They should make it to Wilkesboro by nightfall, and Leah couldn’t wait.
Leah found herself riding about half of the time, and Timothy rode the other half. Timothy fed, watered, and took care of the horse, and that helped. This arrangement also meant no one had to ride in the crowded back of the wagon.
Mrs. Pickler turned out to be a friendly woman who liked to talk. “You must be happy to be getting back to your husband, especially after being married for such a short time,” the older woman said.
Leah nodded. “Yes, I am.”
They stayed with another farm family to the west of Wilkesboro. It seemed strange to ride through the town without stopping, but at least they would be closer to their destination when they started off tomorrow.
The morning came with dense clouds that made the day seem dark and dreary. A cold wind cut through the travelers and whipped at their clothing, as if it wanted to snatch a piece to warm itself. Leah hoped the wind wouldn’t bring worse weather.
They started up the mountain at a crawl. The mules strained to pull their heavy load, and Mr. Pickler kept his whip crackling above their heads to urge them on. At least he didn’t lash their hides. Leah and Mrs. Pickler walked, and Timothy rode the chestnut bareback.
“Not now,” Mr. Pickler said as he stopped the team on the incline, set the brake, and got down. Leah looked and saw a loose strap dangling and knew something had broken or come loose.
“Timothy,” Mr. Pickler said, “gather some rocks and scotch the back wheels, and, since we’ve stopped, let Mrs. Moretz ride her horse.”
Mr. Pickler bent over to assess the problem. “It’s just loose.” He paused. “I can fix it easily enough.”
While Mr. Pickler took care of the problem, Timothy did as his father asked. He put Leah’s saddle on the chestnut before climbing onto the wagon seat.
Mr. Pickler had just finished with the repair and moved to straighten up when the mule in front of him startled and kicked with both legs. The preacher fell to the road and didn’t move. Leah hadn’t mounted yet, because Timothy usually helped her. She quickly tied the chestnut to a wheel and rushed to check the injured man.
Blood oozed from his head just above his left ear, and his left arm appeared broken just above the elbow. Mrs. Pickler sobbed loudly and sounded almost hysterical.
“Find me two sticks or something I can use for splints,” Leah told the distraught woman. “I’ll also need long strips of cloth to wrap his arm and a compress for his head.”
Mrs. Pickler came back with her hands full of the requested items. She’d stopped crying as she tried to help.
“You clean around his head wound as I set this arm,” Leah told her. As Mrs. Pickler washed the wound, Leah saw the gash wasn’t deep, so it should stop bleeding soon. She had Mrs. Pickler hold a clean, damp, cold cloth over the head injury and apply pressure, while Leah tied the splints in place and wrapped the upper arm in the bandages. She also wrapped a cord around his arm and body to strap it tightly, so it wouldn’t dangle. She could fix him a sling when he recovered some. By the time Leah had finished, the gash had already stopped bleeding.
Leah worried more about his head injury. Since he was unconscious, she couldn’t tell how serious it might be. There could be internal bleeding, and she wished Dr. Moretz were here.
Timothy hurried to his father’s side. “What can I do to help?”
“I’ll need your help to try to get him in the wagon,” Leah told him. “Can we get him in the wagon? Is there room to lay him down back there?”
“I’ll make room,” Mrs. Pickler said. The woman threw several things out of the wagon and rearranged some others.
Leah took the injured side. She locked her hands underneath Mr. Picker’s armpit, being careful not to disturb the broken arm. She told Mrs. Pickler to do the same on the other side. She sent Timothy to the back of the wagon.
Mr. Pickler wasn’t a big man, but the dead weight made it extremely difficult to handle him. They somehow managed to drag the unconscious man to the back of the wagon.
Timothy reached down and grabbed the back of his father’s shirt and coat and helped as the woman pulled upward. They managed to get the man pulled and pushed onto the back flap. Timothy then pulled him on in while Leah and Mrs. Pickler picked up his feet and legs to help.
“It’s a good thing you are a hefty, strong lad,” Leah told Timothy. “Now, can you drive the team?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They made it up the mountain to Deep Gap with Mrs. Pickler walking, Leah riding, and Timothy driving the wagon. Leah had him stop so she could check on Mr. Pickler when they’d finished the climb. There seemed no change, but at least his head had not started bleeding again.
Leah turned to Mrs. Pickler. “What are your plans?”
“We’ll take him to my brother’s house in Sugar Grove. You can spend the night with us, and someone will escort you home tomorrow. I’m not sure how much room there’ll be at the house, but we can make do for one night.”
“We’ll see,” Leah said. It would be late afternoon by the time they got to Boone, and she was worried about darkness falling before she got to the farm, but she really wanted to go on home. She yearned to spend the night in her husband’s arms.
Just before they reached Boone, Mr. Pickler began to gain consciousness. They stopped the wagon. He seemed addled, but he recognized them.
“Just stay where you are,” Leah told him when he tried to rise. “You’ll need to take it easy for a while.”
“I’ll see that he does.”
“Timothy, could I buy a set of your clothes, including your hat?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Mrs. Pickler said, taken aback.
“Mrs. Pickler, please understand. I really need to get back home, and I don’t want to impose on your brother. I can dress as a teenage boy, and no one will know the difference. I’m sure I won’t even meet anyone on the way up. Put yourself in my place, and you’ll understand.”
“Well, it’s most unconventional, and I’m sure Dr. Moretz would never allow it.”
“I’m not so sure about that. He knows me well and knows I can be independent and self-sufficient.”
“I still don’t like it, but you are a grown, married woman. I can’t stop you, but we’ll give you the clothes. If it wasn’t for you, we’d more than likely still be stranded on the mountain, and my husband might be dead now. Give her your heaviest coat, too, Timothy. Your lighter one will do you no farther than we have to go.”
“Get her the saddle from the front of the wagon, too,” Mr. Pickler told them. “She won’t want to draw attention by using a sidesaddle.”
Leah hid behind the wagon and changed clothes. She tied a wool scarf around her head and hat. She knew the men did that in cold, windy weather, and it helped hide her hair, although she’d tucked most of it beneath the hat.
Timothy had changed saddles for her and tied on her travel bag. She mounted like a man in pants for the first time, and no one needed to help her. She guessed she had finally gotten her wish.
She waved good-bye and hurried on her way. She needed to at least make it up the mountain before dark. She hoped it would be a clear night with a full moon, but that didn’t look likely. The wind had blown in thick clouds, which threatened precipitation.
She didn’t have to go far down King Street or into the center of town. She entered the east side, and turned south. Some men stared at her, trying to figure out who she was, but most of them gave a friendly wave. She waved back. She’d found a pair of Timothy’s leather gloves in his coat pocket, and she put them on over her knitted ones. Layers would help on a day like this.
The horse made better time than the wagon had, and Leah kept him at a canter. When she made the turn to head up the mountain, she had no idea what time it might be.
The farther the horse climbed up the mountain, the colder it became. Even with her heavy clothing and several layers, her feet, legs, hands, and face felt frozen. She let the horse take the mountain at the pace he wanted.
As they got over the steepest incline, snow began to fall. The flakes began as what Granny Em called ‘blow snow,’ but they soon became as large as the neck feathers on a chicken. As darkness began to fall and the blizzard intensified, Leah couldn’t see the road or where she was going.
She gave the chestnut its lead and prayed the horse knew where to go. At least he trotted forward, as if he had a destination in mind.
Leah saw the glow from the candles and fireplace before she could see the house. She slid out of the saddle in the side yard, and led the chestnut. There was also a glow coming from the barn. Surely Luke wasn’t in the barn after dark on a night like tonight. From the dim glow, Leah saw a four-legged shadow slowly head toward the barn. The chestnut must have seen it, too, because he pulled back and whinnied in alarm.
Some creature lurked about the barn. Knowing Luke always kept a rifle by the larder door, Leah ran and retrieved the gun. She turned to see Luke head toward her. She could barely make him out through the heavy snow, but the animal had him within its sight. Leah aimed the rifle. She suddenly felt weak and shaky as she considered how close the animal crouched to Luke. What if she missed and hit Luke by accident? She clutched the rifle tighter and tried to dispel such thoughts. She needed to fire soon, or the beast would be on top of him, and then she wouldn’t be able to do any more than watch his death. Lord, help my hand be steady and my aim be true.
Luke had been in the barn trying to help a cow birth a calf. It would be hard to get the baby through the winter, unless it turned out to be a hardy little thing. He heard a horse whinny, and he went out to see what was going on. He saw a small figure of a man, but he couldn’t see who it was through the night and snow, especially with the wind whipping the snow in his eyes.
The man raised a rifle and aimed. Luke stopped. Who would be out on a night like this, and why was he about to shoot Luke? Luke started to call out, when a shot exploded, and his heart stopped for a split second. He heard a thud and looked to see a mountain lion on the ground not ten feet from him.
He looked up and saw Granny Em open the larder door and look out. He started to thank the man for saving him, only to see what now looked to be a teenage lad running straight at him. This was crazy. He almost started to turn and run himself, but the lad ran so fast, his hat and scarf fell off, and long hair flowed out.
Leah? Had he imagined her so many times he was seeing her now in this boy? The racing figure hit him with such force, he had to spread his legs to steady himself and keep from falling. Arms went around him. “Luke, oh Luke,” a familiar voice cried.
How many times had he heard that voice call to him at night, only to feel for her, and she wasn’t there? He wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her tightly. He didn’t know why she came dressed as a boy in the middle of a snowstorm after dark. She’d even saved him from a mountain lion, but here she was, unharmed. He thanked God she was in his arms where she belonged. He could find out about all the rest later. He put his lips on hers and felt her passionate response. His wife was home!