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They began to see other wagon trails, mostly ruts, as the winter weather turned to spring-like breezes. The mud was starting to become deeper, making the going harder. It was still cold at night and they bundled up, but they were used to it after all the traveling they had been doing. They headed steadily onward, hoping to make the rendezvous and be among the first wagon trains heading out west. At one of the smaller towns they picked up a few odds and ends, glad they still had plenty of stores because the prices continued to climb outrageously. They supposed it was the law of supply and demand. The stores knew that settlers were heading west and had nowhere else to stock up, so their prices increased to take advantage of that fact. Still, both Molly and Erin were becoming alarmed as their hoarded savings diminished.
“Howdy. I see you have some extry horses. Would you be willing to sell ‘em?” someone approached them one night after they had settled in. King immediately got to his feet with an intense, ‘Woof.’ “Whoa there, boy,” the man said, pulling back slightly at the enormous dog before him.
Erin, who had taken to keeping her gun slung around her back at all time, eased it into her hands as she stood up slowly. “No, we aren’t willing to sell them,” she answered carefully, surprised that the dogs hadn’t heard the stranger sooner. It unnerved her. She had thought they were her safety net and now, she realized she couldn’t count on them as much as she had thought. There were just too many strange sounds and too many animals. She glanced around her fire at the children, who were eating their meal and stopped to stare at the strange man dressed in buckskins, who came into the firelight.
“I’d keep ‘em close or the Indians’ll steal ‘em,” he cautioned, chewing something, his jaw working hard as he glanced around the campsite. He was startled to realize the woman with them was holding a shotgun on him. He smiled, realizing they weren’t the pilgrims he took them for. “Mind if I set a spell?” he asked, indicating the warm fire.
Erin glanced at Molly, who nodded but didn’t lower her shotgun. She’d seen Queenie’s head come up and slipped back into the shadows before Erin was aware of the intruder. To be fair, dealing with all the cattle and sheep, Erin was exhausted.
“You folks heading for Independence?” he asked after Erin nodded and he had squatted in front of the fire. He was warming his hands, glancing at the children, who had resumed eating. They seemed fascinated by the man.
Erin, who had signaled King to stay, walked a little closer but stayed out of Molly’s line of fire and far enough away from the man in case he had any ill intent. “Isn’t everyone?” she asked in reply.
The man chuckled. “Yep, and your horses and cattle’ll be at a premium. Better tie them up at night or someone’ll steal ‘em.”
“Someone tried,” Theo piped up. “Pa hit him upside the head with his rifle.”
“Theo!” Erin and Molly both warned him at the same time.
“Yore name Herriot?” the strange man asked, surprised, as he assessed the tall man with the rifle.
“Yes,” Erin answered cautiously.
“Heard a ya,” he said admiringly. “Yep, youse got a reputation now.” He chuckled, obviously aware of the story back in St. Charles.
Erin exchanged a glance with Molly, wondering at that statement but didn’t reply. Instead, she changed the subject by asking, “You been out west? Trapping?”
“Yeah, I been a few times. Lost my last set-up to some thieving redskin dev–” he began but glancing at the children and the woman still holding a shotgun firmly in her hands, decided to be diplomatic. Folks didn’t hold with cussing and swearing in civilized company. “That’s why I was hoping you were interested in sellin’ one of yer horses.”
“Nope, we are goin’ to need ‘em where we are goin’,” Erin replied, slipping into the old habit of abbreviated speech easily. “Farmers need their livestock.”
“I see you gots a little of everythin’,” he appreciated. “Think you’ll get ‘em all where ya goin’?”
“Nope, but I hope to have enough.”
The man nodded. This farmer wasn’t so foolish as to think all his livestock was going to make it. He did have a lot too. It didn’t help him with his situation though. He had a thought. “You hirin’?”
“For what?” Erin asked, confused.
“To help with all that,” the man tilted his head towards all the livestock. “You try on gettin’ all that through Indian country and yer gonna fail.”
“I thought settlers helped each other?”
“Depend on yerselves,” he advised, turning to warm his backside and to turn his back on the woman toting the shotgun. His eyes would adjust to the dark better too. “Ain’t just the redskins gonna try and steal from you’rn neither.”
“How do I know you aren’t aimin’ to steal from us?”
The man smiled. This man wasn’t stupid. “Yer right; however, I do got to git back to my mountains.”
“Yer mountains?”
“Yep. I gots me traps up there, and I can get me a new set-up. Trade with some friendly injuns for some horses.”
“So, you’ll help me with my stock until then?”
“Yup, I shore will...and give ya some educatin’,” he promised, standing up now that he had warmed up a tad.
Erin glanced again at Molly, who shrugged slightly and then looked at the children, who had stopped eating again to see what their pa would decide. “Well, why don’t you join us for dinner. I’m sure you can use a meal, and I’ll think over your offer.”
“Walll, I surely do thank ye for the offer. I can use some vittles.”
Since Molly was setting back with the shotgun, Erin lowered her gun but kept her hands free to grab her pistol or knife if necessary as she dished up some of the food for the strange man.
“Name’s Jeb. Jebediah Mackenzie,” he announced. “Thank ye. You can tell yer missus I ain’t mean no harm and she can put down that there scatter gun.”
“It ain’t the shotgun you gotta worry about,” Erin murmured, nodding to Molly to join them.
“It tain’t?” he paused shoveling his food in his big mouth with a spoon, the crumbs building up along the beard surrounding his lips.
“Nope. It’s my dogs that would kill ya,” she answered with a grin as she started eating.
The man guffawed and then stopped, looking at the big, male dog that was watching him intently. He wasn’t so sure Herriot was kidding anymore as Molly came back to the fire, her own gun slung across her back.
“So, what’s the story about what happen’ back in St. Charles?” he asked around his full mouth, wiping his mouth on a sleeve, food scattered in his beard clinging to both the sleeve and the hairs.
Erin shrugged, glancing at Theo, who looked uncomfortable for having said anything.
“Pa got our cattle back. Them men tried to poison our dogs,” Tommy spoke up in support of his brother, unaware of the silent looks his parents had shared.
“Tommy, children are to be seen and not heard,” Molly admonished him, casting a warning glance to the other children who hurried to eat. Still, they were curious about this stinky man who was with them, wondering who he was and what stories he might have to share.
“I don’t mind, ma’am,” Jeb assured her, smiling and showing browning teeth from tobacco.
Erin tried not to think about where whatever he had been chewing on earlier had gone. She hadn’t seen him spit it out, but she couldn’t believe he might have swallowed it either.
“Well, I mind. They should mind their manners,” she said primly, glancing at the children warningly, realizing she was reiterating something her own parents had said a time or two. She smiled inwardly at the remembrance.
“Yep, that’s what all mas say,” he agreed with her, trying to be charming.
“May I get one of the puppies?” Theresa asked, finished with her dinner.
“Yes, you may,” Molly smiled as the little girl carefully set down her plate by the water bucket. They’d probably let the puppies lick the plates, which she didn’t mind as they were slowly weaning them off Queenie. King was intently looking at the plate, then back to Erin, who had him on a silent command.
“Okay,” Erin said aloud, and the dog came forward to start licking the plate clean. It only took a few licks and he was done. He looked deliberately from Erin to the man at the fire, who looked up into the intelligent eyes of the dog. He realized the dog was assessing him and didn’t look away. It made him decidedly uncomfortable to know the dog thought him his equal.
Erin watched as King checked out the man, his nose testing the breeze, catching his scent and probably picking up more than a human could. Dogs were odd that way. They were able to tell if a man was honest or not from his smells. She trusted King a helluva lot more than her own judgement. He wasn’t growling, but he wasn’t reaching out to smell the man more thoroughly either. He would wait and see if the man deserved his trust. Erin decided to do the same.
“Y’alls got cylinders for yer rifle and shooter?” he asked, gesturing to the gun in Erin’s waistband.
Erin flushed, having thought the gun was hidden by her coat. The man was too observant, and that worried her. If he could see the gun, what else might he figure out? She shook her head in answer to the question. “What are cylinders?”
“They got cylinders ya can get now for your rifle and handgun instead of reloading. You fill the cylinders and can have two or three of dem. Faster instead of stopping to reload if’n you’rn in a fight,” he explained.
“Never heard of such a thing,” Erin said in wonderment.
“Ya, a lot of people ain’t,” he agreed, reaching in a pocket for the makin’s and pulling out a chaw of tobacco, which he took a bite of. Rubbing his hands on his clothes, he put his plate down, seeing the dog watching him. “Can I give him ma plate?” he asked, wishing to remain friendly with the big animal.
“You can try,” Erin answered, hiding a grin. Several of the children weren’t so subtle and smiled outright, looking forward to what would happen.
Jeb put his plate down, the dog watching him. He slid it along the ground, so it ended up at the feet of the dog. King looked down at the plate and then up at the man who had offered it to him. Without twitching a whisker, he looked away and got up to move away.
The children started to whoop and laugh.
“Shush,” Molly quieted them. She was working with Timmy to get him fed without making too much of a mess. The two-year-old was always attracting dirt and mess like a magnet. “That’s enough.”
Erin grinned at Jeb’s chagrin.
“Now, what’s that about?” the man asked, perplexed
“We taught our dogs not to take food from strangers. After St. Charles we ain’t...” she paused, glancing at a disapproving Molly, “aren’t taking chances. The thieves tried to poison our dogs.”
“Is that what happened?” he mused, impressed after hearing that tidbit that had been left out of the story he heard. He’d heard that a man by the name of Herriot had tracked the thieves back to town, took one down by gunpoint, and made him pay back the money he got for the cattle. Then he’d smacked the man with his rifle and bought back the cattle. He’d also heard the man had buffaloed the sheriff somehow. He glanced through his bushy eyebrows at the man sitting before him. He saw the subtle signal, and the big dog veered around him to clean the man’s plate as he put his own down. Clever.
Jeb was surprised when Erin, not Molly, cleaned up the plates and silverware, leaving them by the fire on a rock to dry. He followed the man back out as he and the dogs inspected his cattle. He could hear the chickens clucking softly as they settled down for the evening. Erin checked the hobbles on her horses and patted Billy, who snorted at the body odors coming from the mountain man, intimidating him, before going on to check on the sheep. She returned to the fire with the older man, neither exchanging a word, but as they passed the back of the wagon, a paw shot out and clutched at Jeb.
“What in tarnation?” he jumped a foot and reached for his knife, unable to make out what it was that had clawed him.
Erin, who had experienced that a few times, started laughing. She had forgotten that the cats were playful like that and explained to their guest about the barn cats riding with them.
“Barn cats, ya say?” he asked, chagrined over the laughter at his expense again.
“Yes, they’ll be good for keeping down the mice and rats in our new home,” she explained, trying not to laugh more. She could tell the older man hadn’t liked it, but it sure was funny.
“Well, the coyotes will take care of them, if I don’t,” he threatened, but it was half-hearted at best. He wondered what other surprises were in store for him and what this couple had in their wagon. He hadn’t even noticed the cats.
Molly had put down food for the dogs, and both pups were attempting to eat their share. Their parents joined in, cleaning both tins of food before Erin signaled them out to guard the stock.
“Would ya have a spare blanket? I can just roll up by the faar,” Jeb asked Molly.
“I’m sure we have one we could spare,” she answered, looking at Tabitha and nodding towards the wagon. It was still too cold to sleep on the ground, an occasional bit of sleet or snow still coming down and keeping the slowly warming earth from becoming the quagmire they anticipated. She could only wonder at the man and his sleeping near the fire. She determined to sleep with the shotgun nearby.
Jeb pretty much adopted them. No overt promise or agreement was made between the two parties, and Erin allowed him to ride the mare when she was riding, or trying to ride, the stallion with a saddle. She didn’t have a second saddle, but the old man didn’t seem to mind riding bareback, his blanket beneath him on the horse.
They shared some interesting conversations as they rode along, the children herding the sheep and the remaining pigs along with the Tervurens as Erin rode behind the lot, herding the cattle, who ambled along.
Erin, who had some misconceptions about the trail, was corrected by the old man. He explained that the Oregon Trail was laid out by fur traders back around 1811 to 1840, and the first organized wagon train was about 1836.
“They’s went up to Fort Hall in Ideaho,” Jeb explained as though he had been there, repeating stories he had been told.
“I thought we were goin’ to Oregon?” Theo asked, indignant. It was his turn to ride with Erin today and they’d ridden the stallion, which made it a less smooth ride than usual.
“Theo,” Erin admonished him. The children were fonts of information for strangers if she and Molly weren’t careful.
Jeb laughed at the young boy, not surprised as he had already surmised their destination. It was that or Californy; there were trains leavin’ for both. “They gots a trail that goes all the way to that there Williamette Valley in Oregon, I hears,” he told the boy, agreeing with him, hoping to endear himself to the boy. “Then there is that there Mormon Trail that goes to Utah. You ain’t Mormons, are you, boy?” he asked, looking fierce with his hairy eyebrows and moustache.
Theo shook his head and clutched Erin’s middle tighter. Erin nearly laughed. “Nope, we ain’t no Bible thumpers,” she admitted.
That night, they made camp near the remains of some sort of church. They stopped early enough because there was a well nearby, but the pump didn’t seem to work. After their camp chores were done, the animals were roped off, and the poultry was down and pecking at the spring growth of grasses under their cages, Molly started dinner and Erin began to examine the pump.
“Whatcher doin’ there, boy?” Jeb asked when he saw Erin pull out a wrench and begin dismantling the pump.
“I’m going to see if I can fix this here pump and maybe use it. No sense in it sitting here abandoned when folks have a use for it.”
“What about thems folks wanting to draw water–” he began but Erin, in her impatience to remove the pump, interrupted.
“They can use the bucket and rope as we did,” she answered, revealing her agitation and better diction, which she usually hid when someone spoke in the western slang she was becoming used to.
Jeb looked at the farmer in surprise, seeing the sense in what he said. There was something odd about the tall, younger man, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
After dismantling the pieces of the pump, putting them in a bag, and storing them in the wagon to be looked at in daylight, Erin helped feed the children. Jeb ate a hearty share. In fact, it was his propensity for eating all the leftovers that had caused both Erin and Molly alarm. Leaving the children with Tabitha, Erin walked with Molly out in the dying sun to take her ablutions, so she wouldn’t accidentally be observed by Jeb or the children. It was becoming increasingly hard with more people around, and she wondered how long it would be before she was observed. They continued their walk to the church, the light having caught their attention.
“What is that?” Molly asked in surprise as the sun set and changed colors, practically blinding her.
“That looks like some sort of colored glass?” Erin said wonderingly as they began to climb into the burned-out area.
“Well, will you look at that?” she said. The window was almost intact, a couple of odd shapes on the sill below it. It was about two feet high and eighteen inches wide with several colors in an odd pattern that didn’t show any pictures of the Bible but still managed to convey some sort of divine presence. “How do you think that survived the fire?” she asked Erin in wonderment.
“God intervened?” Erin asked in a cynical voice.
“Hush. That’s practically sacrilege,” she admonished, then laughing, she impulsively gave her wife a kiss. They were alone, the children were back by the wagon, and who knew where Jeb had ambled off to. He’d mentioned something about getting fresh meat, and she hoped he would contribute. He sure ate enough, and their supplies wouldn’t last with that.
“Sure is pretty, isn’t it?” Erin admired as they watched the sun setting through the small window.
“It sure is. Wish we could have something like that someday,” she answered, leaning into her wife to feel the touch of her body next to her.
“Do you want it?” Erin turned to ask Molly in earnest.
“Why, what do you mean?”
“I think I can pry it out of its frame and we can pack it up really carefully in one of the trunks,” she offered.
“We don’t dare...” she began, frowning, wondering if somehow it was wrong. After all, this was a church. But looking around, the place was truly abandoned. “...do we?”
“If you want it, I can, and we will,” she answered, letting go of her wife’s hand and reaching for her knife as she stepped to the small, forgotten window. In the rapidly fading light, she could feel the cool of the spring night’s air starting, and she worked quickly to pry the framed glass from its hold to the building. It didn’t give it up easily, and she wondered if that was why it was still here. It was solid and steady. Her knife nearly slipped several times before she felt it give slightly.
“Maybe you shouldn’t...” Molly said, watching Erin work on the frame. It was getting harder to see and she knew they shouldn’t be gone this long from their camp. The children were too young to leave for too long.
“Got it,” she said, finally able to pull the entire frame with the delicate, colored glass out. She returned her knife to its scabbard before lifting the frame and showing her wife. It was hard to see in the dark. “Let’s get back to camp. We can look at it in the morning before we pack it away,” she promised as she gathered up the few shards on the sill.
Molly turned and headed back, worrying about what she would step on. It was too early in the year for snakes but that didn’t mean there weren’t droppings, both animal and human, that she might step in. She wished they had returned earlier when it was light. Instead, they made their way, watching for the fire and then heading towards it.
“Ma, Pa. We was worried,” Tommy said importantly as he saw them return.
“Were,” Molly corrected him automatically.
“Where’d ya go?” Theresa asked, ever her older brother’s shadow.
“Grown people like to spend some time alone,” Erin told the little girl, amused. “Look what we found,” she said, holding the framed glass up in the firelight. She saw someone had built the fire up a bit, probably out of fear that their parents weren’t there.
“What is it?”
“That’s purty!”
“Can we keep it?”
“Can I touch?”
The voices rang out all at once and Molly shushed them and their enthusiasm. “Your pa says we are going to keep it, and you have to be very careful. It’s colored glass we found in that burnt out church up there,” she indicated the small hill above where they were camped, the draw being the cool well water and not the church itself. Briefly, Molly wondered if it was wrong to take the glass, but seeing it shine in the light of the fire and the look of wonderment on the children’s faces, she knew they were meant to find it.
“That shore is pretty,” Jeb agreed the next morning as he watched them pack it away carefully in a chest in the wagon, using spare clothing for cushioning. “Don’t pack it flat,” he cautioned them.
Erin nearly said something rude. She knew to pack it on its side in the trunk. She didn’t like the fact that the man was watching, almost assessing their valuables in the wagon, but she couldn’t think of a reason to ask him to leave, and he had brought in a couple of rabbits they ate for breakfast. He’d wiped the grease on his buckskins and the fresh marks ran down the leathers making him look even more filthy.
It was difficult to see in the early morning dawn. She’d hitched the oxen up, and with Jeb’s continued encouragement, the two sets of farm horses too. That way, they didn’t have to be in with the herd she was pushing west, and their added strength helped pull the heavy wagon loaded with the additional supplies they were packing.
“Make shore you get plenty of that there cornmeal. I like me some cornbread,” Jeb told them as they stocked up a little more at a store before their destination of Independence.
Molly looked at him in annoyance. They were counting their pennies, and this man was eating everything and anything that wasn’t nailed down. Good thing he hadn’t seen the dried goods they had packed in the wagon or he’d probably help himself to that as well. She’d cautioned the children against talking about anything they had but children frequently forgot. She wished they could be rid of the old mountain man, but he had latched onto them. She could only hope he would make himself scarce when they got to Independence.
“Can we afford these?” Erin murmured, showing her some things she wanted for the trip.
“Barely,” she murmured back. “No, no, Timmy,” she pulled his hands back when she noticed him reaching for things. “It’s not yours. Don’t touch,” she admonished.
“Here, I’ll take him,” Erin offered, swinging him up to her hip to distract the toddler. “Look at that,” she said, pointing at some of the shiny labels on some canned goods.
“I’ll take the little feller,” Jeb offered, looking at the guns and holding his arms out. The toddler pulled close to Erin and away from the smelly man.
“No, I got him,” Erin laughed off the toddler’s reaction, understanding it. She’d worked hard to get the children to wash up each day despite the cold. The water from the Missouri was filthy, but the water they had gotten from the well the other day was clear, and she’d filled their barrels. While using that water to clean themselves, she’d offered it to Jeb, who stared at her in horror at the idea. He obviously had no idea how much odor radiated from his body. “I’m going out to check on the animals,” Erin murmured to Molly, knowing they both didn’t need to be inside the store and hoping Jeb would join her outside. She didn’t want the man to know how much money they had left.
Molly nodded, checking the list against what the storekeeper was putting out and quickly adding it up in her head. She was getting more upset the farther west they got and the higher the prices went. Jeb assured her this would be their last store before Independence, but she hadn’t counted on feeding the old man. His appetite was worse than several of the children combined.
“Them yer cattle?” a voice asked at Erin’s shoulder. She was trying to distract Timmy, who needed a nap, and hadn’t noticed the man come up. King started to growl from where he sat at the back of the small herd.
“Yep,” she answered, wondering if someone was going to complain about the animals in town. They’d heard that a few times on the way out from Ohio.
“Will you sell–?” he began, but Erin was already shaking her head. Didn’t anyone else bring their livestock west with them? She was beginning to wonder. Jeb kept hinting she should start killing her poultry to make tasty meals for them. Instead, she kept asking the trapper if he could hunt up some rabbits or something to contribute. The only thing they had gotten from the old man so far was two rabbits and some edumacation. He rarely did any of the work involved in setting up the camp or guarding the animals. Thank goodness for the dogs.
“You won’t even consider–” the man began, again seeing Erin’s shake of the head.
“You got plenty enough to–” he started to argue, but Erin ignored him and brushed by him to walk off the wooden sidewalk and check on the sheep.
“See the sheep, Timmy. What does a sheep say?”
“Baa,” the little boy answered dutifully, trying to stick his thumb in his mouth.
“No, no. Yer Ma don’t want you doin’ that,” she cautioned, pulling it back. She glanced at the animals, standing there, waiting impatiently. There was no grass to eat, and it was overcast and gloomy. She understood. They wanted to be out of town, and she did too.
“Here we go,” she heard Molly say and saw the storekeeper helping to carry bags out of the store. One of them was clearly marked cornmeal, and it irritated Erin for some reason. She walked rapidly over to where they were storing them in the wagon and swung Timmy into the back. He immediately started crawling up on the bed, farther into the wagon, as she helped the storekeeper put bags in the back, organizing them right away.
“That was a pretty penny,” Molly murmured, handing Erin a few things that went right into her pockets. “Here, the storekeeper said you might be able to use that.” She showed her the supplies that she had laid in.
“You’re a find, you know that?” she smiled at her wife, pleased with her and her thriftiness.
“You need a haircut,” she returned, blushing at the compliment and brushing it off.
“We ready to go?” Jeb said cheerfully. “We should stop and make a fire. I’s hungry.”
He was always hungry, both Molly and Erin thought, exchanging a look. Still, some of his advice had been useful; just not enough to make his eating habits and personal smell worthwhile.
“Why is that man glaring at you?” Molly asked after everything was stored.
“What man?” Erin asked. She looked around and saw the man who had started to ask about buying some of her stock. He was looking at her as though he wanted her dead. She turned away and shrugged as she helped Theresa and then Tommy into the wagon.
“I get to ride,” Tabitha informed Erin, smiling as she came up with the reins to the stallion.
“Where’s my horse?” Jeb asked, chewing on the tobacco he’d had Molly purchase. He would have taken a whole bag, but she had discreetly shaken her head at the shopkeeper, who only gave him a twist. He’d been greatly insulted at her parsimonious ways.
“My mare is over there,” Erin corrected him, wishing she could find a way to be rid of the odorous man. She glanced at Molly and could see she felt the same. Escorting Molly to the front of the wagon, she helped her up. Then, she helped Theo, who had helped keep the stock back from the street with the dogs. “There you go, Theo. Up you go,” she said, helping the agile boy with a smile. “You did a good job,” she praised the boy, who smiled in gratitude for the compliment. Turning back to Tabitha, Erin hoisted her on the back of the stallion. She scooted back on the saddle to give room for Erin, who quickly mounted. Already, the horse was stepping out and Erin pulled back on the reins, getting him firmly in hand. Tabitha quickly put her arms around Erin’s middle as she tightened her grip on the horse.
“I tole ye, ya should use a whip on that horse,” Jeb advised.
Erin ignored the man. Using a whip on the animals was never a good idea. Even the oxen had the whip cracked over them, not on their hides. It was a poor man who didn’t work with their animals, instead making them work out of fear. Erin let the horse have its head a little as she rode to the back of their little column. Whistling, she got both dogs’ attention and they waited to see when Molly would start the oxen and horses. Once started, they began moving towards the cattle and sheep, starting them on their way.
“Huyup there,” Jeb called, trying to hurry them.
“Easy there, Jeb,” Erin said to distract the exuberant man. She had often wondered what kind of mountain man he was if he was this impatient to get going.