Outlaw Hearts (14 page)

Apparently the talk had come around to Opal, who had become colder and more distant. Losing the woman's companionship hurt more than anything. She wished she could explain. Surely Opal had seen how it was Clarence who made all the advances, had seen how hard she had tried to avoid the young man. But then Clarence was Opal's nephew. What person would believe a stranger over family?

Clarence had done a perfect job of exacting revenge and keeping her outside the family circle. Now besides Clarence's staring eyes, she had to put up with scornful looks from the rest of the Jennings clan. There were five unmarried men besides Clarence among the travelers, plus Hap Dearing and his four men, about whom she knew little. All of them seemed to take delight lately in gawking at her.

Sometimes she felt as though she was walking naked alongside the wagon, and she was utterly miserable, wondering how she was going to make it all the way to Nevada under these conditions. She was sure the Jennings family were beginning to look at her as some kind of sinful harlot who had been tempting poor, innocent Clarence. They no longer seemed to be impressed by the fact that she had shot an outlaw, but rather were beginning to use the experience as proof that she was not the pure and saintly woman they originally thought her to be. One evening at prayer, the reverend had asked God to forgive her for bringing violence against another human being, even though it had apparently been in self-defense. She thought how hypocritical they were to praise her for what she had done only until they began to think she was some kind of wayward woman herself. That made the shooting suddenly a bad thing.

They had been on the trail nearly a month now, and the past week had been miserable, both in weather and her emotions. Until today, the weather had been cold and rainy for five days, daily drenching those who had to walk. The wagons had gotten buried in mud more than once, and little Sara had taken sick. Miranda herself did not feel well. Even though today it had warmed and things were drying out, her throat hurt and her muscles ached. Walking several miles every day had at first given her terrible leg cramps and swollen feet, but now it seemed her body was getting more used to the strain and her feet did not hurt quite so much; but overall she remained in misery from emotional turmoil and loss of sleep.

At first she had shared a wagon with Opal and little Sara, while the rest of the children slept in the second wagon and all the men slept outside. The past few nights Opal had not spoken to her at all, a complete change from their long nightly conversations when they'd first started out. She claimed she was just too tired now to talk, but Miranda knew the real reason. The woman no longer wanted her friendship.

Miranda felt desperately alone, as if no one were traveling with her at all. She trudged through mud and high prairie grass, sometimes helping Loretta gather a few wildflowers, putting some into the belt of her dress just to make herself feel better. She still thought of Jake often, sure he would have been easier to talk to than these people who called themselves Christians. Jake would not be so quick to judge, certainly not the type to hold a supposed “sin” over someone's head. The worst part was being judged for something she had not done at all. She had been so sure these were the perfect people with whom to make this long journey. Now she found it ironic that she would rather be traveling with an outlaw.

Night was falling, and Dearing finally rode up to Reverend Jennings and told the man they would make camp for the night along the river. Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. It had already been decided that the women would be allowed to bathe tonight. Blankets would be hung tent-style beside the river so the women would have a place to undress. It had been ten days since any of them had done more than wash their hands and faces, and Miranda had never felt so uncomfortably grimy. She felt like cursing the brother who had brought this misery on her, but then Wesley had not asked her to come to Nevada. It had been her own decision, and now she was trapped. How could she go back? She certainly couldn't do it alone, and the wagon that carried her trunk belonged to Reverend Jennings. She had paid them a good deal of what money she had left, leaving her little to pay anyone else to take her, and how could she trust just any stranger that came along?

Somehow she had to bear up as an outcast until they reached Nevada, and she fought to hold her chin high and not let her emotional abandonment get her down. If she let herself give in to this agony, she felt she would lose her mind completely. Reverend Jennings would probably declare her mad and go on without her. The old stubbornness that had gotten her through most of her losses and grief was still there to hold her up, along with nightly prayers.

“We will each take turns bathing tonight,” Opal was telling her as they both lowered the back gate of one of the wagons. “We will have to be very cautious and discreet, what with those traders along. Heaven knows if they can truly be trusted.” The woman looked at her almost scathingly. “You must be extra careful, considering your widowed status, Miranda. You must understand how some men look at a thing like that.”

Miranda caught the suggestion, felt the hurt. “If my being a widow so disturbs you, Opal, why did any of you agree to allow me to come along? Everything was fine in the beginning. I thought we were becoming quite good friends. I might as well say it out, because I am tired of the way all of you have been treating me lately. I have done absolutely nothing to deserve your turning on me. I don't like any of this, and I want to know why it is happening.”

The woman stiffened, leaning a little closer, her usually meek demeanor suddenly, surprisingly stern and full of warning. “You seemed a very discreet, Christian young lady in the beginning; but you have been much too friendly with my nephew Clarence. Don't you understand that a young man that age is easily swayed by a beautiful, available woman he thinks is in need of a man? He looks at you as experienced and lonely, and he has confessed to my husband that the way you look at him makes him think sinful things.”

Miranda's eyes widened with indignation. Fury boiled within her, but she fought to keep her voice down, realizing that to be overheard by the men would only make her look worse, not better. “I know exactly what your nephew is thinking, Opal, and it isn't because of anything I have done! I have tried to stay away from him, but he won't leave me alone! If you want the truth, I can't stand Clarence Jennings, and if he doesn't stay away from me, I'll use the same pistol on him I used on Jake Harkner! You tell him to stay away from me and stop spreading lies about me! I have no desire to tempt any man on this wagon train! I am here for one thing only, and that is to get to Nevada!”

She whirled and began angrily taking down pans and other necessities for the evening meal. Opal watched her a moment, wanting to believe her. But, after all, Clarence would never lie. He was a good, Christian young man who had never done anything but make his father proud of him. Miranda Hayes must not even realize how she was tempting the poor boy. The woman walked to the second wagon, where her husband was helping unhitch the oxen. She pulled him aside.

“I think perhaps we should consider helping Miranda find someone else to travel with when we reach the next fort, Wilbur. I am afraid this whole thing with Clarence may get out of hand. Perhaps we made a wrong decision letting her come along.”

The reverend sighed, removing his hat and running a hand through his thinning red hair. “I agree. I will think about it over the next few days, discuss it with John and Berny and Father. I hate to abandon her that way, but if she's at a fort, she'll be safe until she finds other traveling companions. This is partly our fault for being so quick to take her in. I was just so anxious to have a traveling companion for you that I didn't consider that her being such an attractive widow might cause problems with all these men along. I'll pray about it.”

“Thank you, Wilbur.” Opal returned to her work, feeling Miranda's anger as they worked together to prepare supper. It was really too bad they would probably have to leave poor Miranda behind, but Opal could not think what else to do. After all, the family and Christian values came first.

***

Miranda sat down on a stump, wondering if she had ever felt more alone. Another week of putting up with stares and cold shoulders had passed since she had told Opal exactly what she thought. Thank goodness Clarence had stayed away from her lately, but several times she had seen the reverend talking privately with his brothers and father, knew they were discussing her. This hell had to end somewhere, and she had decided to come here to be alone to pray and think. She had decided that she would face the reverend and the others head-on, speak up to them before they could pompously come to her first. Her anger was taking over the hurt now. It was time to stand up to the Jenningses and get everything out in the open, even though they were the ones in charge. Enough was enough.

She put her head in her hands, listening to the soft, night breeze in the cottonwood trees. The wagon train was perhaps twenty yards away, and for the moment it felt good to be entirely alone, away from the looks and the whispers. She listened to crickets, grateful that a breeze the last two nights had kept the mosquitoes at bay.

What
a
fool
you
were
to
think
you
could
go
running
off
to
Nevada
, she told herself.
You
should
have
listened
to
Jake, listened to Sheriff McCleave.
She had never been attracted to the sheriff, but right now being back in Kansas City and letting him court her sounded wonderful. She was sure none of her friends back there considered her as some kind of wanton woman just because she was a widow. They had known Mack, knew how hard his death had been on her. She could still be with them, but instead she had chosen this pain and discomfort and danger just to find a brother who probably didn't want to be found. It had seemed so important at the time. What was left for her if she couldn't find Wesley? Would she have lost all that was Miranda Baker Hayes?

Perhaps she already had. She was certainly a different person from the young woman who had first come to Kansas from Illinois. Sometimes she wondered who that person was. She longed for some kind of stability and she supposed that was why it was important to find Wesley. Maybe she could make a home for him, have family again. What was there for a person without family? Nothing but loneliness and a feeling of not belonging anywhere. No wonder Jake was such a lost soul. He not only had no family left, he didn't even have good memories to look back on.

Jake
. How many times had her thoughts turned to him? Sometimes it was so comforting to think of him.

“A penny for your thoughts,” a voice said.

Miranda jumped, startled that someone was there. Clarence! The brat had followed her here, sneaky devil that he was. How could she not have heard him, unless he had deliberately sneaked up as quietly as possible?

She immediately rose, on guard. “You have no right to be here,” she said firmly. “I came here to be alone.”

“Did you?”

She could see him better now in the bright moonlight. He stepped closer.

“I don't believe that, Mrs. Hayes. You were hoping me or one of the other men would see you walk off and would follow. You've been trying to find a way to be alone with one of the men this whole trip.”

Miranda wished she had her handbag along. If she did, she would find it very easy to take out her pistol and shoot him here and now. “You are a stupid young man who likes to fantasize,” she answered. “Now get back to the wagons.”

He came even closer, close enough to touch her. “I don't take orders from anybody but Uncle Wilbur and my pa.” He grasped her arms, and Miranda jerked away.

“Touch me again and I'll scream,” she said in a near growl. “Your father and the holy reverend will soon learn the kind of man you really are! They'll know who's been lying and who's been telling the truth all along!”

He grabbed her again, this time his grip tight enough to hurt. Miranda realized he was a surprisingly strong young man for his slender build. “Will they?” he snarled. “Scream all you want, Mrs. Hayes. No matter how it works out, they'll see you as a
slut
! I'll make sure they know you lured me out here, that I just couldn't resist your invitation, because I'm just an innocent boy who's been manipulated by an experienced woman lonely for a man. No, lady, you won't scream, because you know that the only way out of this, the only way to save face and be allowed to stay with us, is to cooperate and give me what you know I want…and what I know
you
want!”

He jerked her arms behind her and pressed her close against him. Miranda could feel his hardened erection pressing at her belly. His breath smelled from the fried onions he had eaten at supper. “The best thing for you to do is just quietly let it happen, Mrs. Hayes. That way they'll never know. I sure won't tell. Will you?”

He tried to kiss her, and she turned her face away. He bit at her neck, and for one brief moment, Miranda wondered if he was right. Did she really have any choice? Not one person along would believe her side of the story. Clarence pushed her to the ground, and an inner pride and fury welled up inside her. To hell with what any of them thought! Clarence Jennings was not going to get away with this, even if it meant she had to travel the rest of this trip completely alone and dragging her own trunk!

He let go of her arms to grab at her breasts, sure she would not resist. Miranda took the opportunity to jab at his eyes and face while she let out a bloodcurdling scream. She fought wildly then, scratching, biting, butting heads.