A Dream Unfolding (24 page)

Drew woke the next morning to the aroma of breakfast cooking.
 
He jumped up and dressed hurriedly.
 
How could he have slept so late?
 
He needed to go check on Lieutenant Harrison, whom he neglected for several days now.

“Morning,” Hannah said as he opened the tent flap.
 
“Breakfast is almost ready.”

The dark circles under her eyes testified to her restless night.
 
Drew was furious at Mr. Richmond for recounting the terrifying story in Hannah’s presence.
 
And his prayer that she might not suffer nightmares seemed to have gone unanswered.

Seeing that most of the other tents were packed, Drew set to the task.
 
He was ashamed to always be the last ready.
 
Once finished, he sat down for the meal.
 
Hannah handed him a heaping plate which he ate quickly.

“Betty said Lieutenant Harrison is doing well.
 
She’s going to ride with him today and insisted that you stay here.”

Handing the empty plate back to Hannah, Drew gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and thanked her for the fine meal.
 
He started to turn to retrieve the oxen, when she placed a hand on his arm.

“If you need more rest, I can drive the wagon today.”

Though the offer was sincere, he could not stop the guilt that bubbled up.
 
He should be taking care of her.
 
He should be driving that wagon.
 
And he would, despite the exhaustion from the weeks of little sleep.
 
Shaking his head, he went to find the oxen.
 
By the time he returned, Hannah had everything cleaned and stowed.
 
He went through the motions of hooking up the team.
 
Once the wagon was ready, he helped Hannah up then took the seat next to her.

The road was much rockier since the train turned south from Fort Lyon.
 
They slowly climbed the steep mountain.
 
The oxen worked hard to pull the wagon up the difficult grade.

Suddenly the trail narrowed to just a few inches wider than the wagon.
 
On the side next to him rose a sheer rock wall.
 
The other side of the trail dangerously dropped off to the valley far below.
 
When the road curved sharply, Drew’s pulse quickened as he tried to keep the wagon on the narrow road, getting the front pair of oxen to start turning at the awkward angle.

Hannah shrieked as the wagon lurched.

“Hold on tight!” Drew shouted, concentrating on driving the wagon.

“Drew—the wheel!”

The wagon tilted precariously as only three wheels remained on the road.
 
Drew’s breath caught in his throat as Hannah gripped his arm with frightful force.
 
Slapping the reins down hard, he got the oxen moving quicker.
 
He had to get that wheel back on the road before the contents of the wagon shifted the weight—pulling them down over the side.

Another jolt of the wagon bounced Hannah too close to the edge of the seat.
 
Glancing at his wife, he saw her holding on for her life as one leg dangled over.
 
Panic rose.

Pulling hard to the left, the oxen navigated the last part of the insane curve.
 
The wagon lurched again.
 
The final wheel returned to solid ground.
 
The harsh movement threw Hannah into his side.

As the trail straightened and widened, Drew stopped the wagon and jumped down.
 
Moving to the other side, he helped his crying wife down.
 
His breath returned to a normal rhythm as he buried his head in the small space between her neck and shoulder, clutching her tight.

“I thought I might lose you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips.

When her tears subsided, and his own beating heart calmed, he helped her back into the wagon, getting far from this Devil’s Gate as he could.

By the time the wagon camped for the evening, Drew’s nerves stretched to their limits.
   
He wanted to lie down and sleep for days, but the team needed care and he still hadn’t checked on Lieutenant Harrison.
 
His anxiety must have been apparent, because Hannah gave him a worried look.
 

Once the team was unhitched and corralled, he went to check on his patient.
 
Lieutenant Harrison was out of the wagon and sitting up nearby.
 
When he saw Drew he stood.

“Dr. Anderson,” he greeted with a warm smile.

“Please, call me Drew.
 
How are you feeling?”

“Very good, sir.
 
Mrs. Lancaster is a wonderful nurse, even if she can be rather insistent.
 
Wouldn’t let me just continue to lie about,” the lieutenant chuckled.

Drew instructed the young man to sit.
 
Checking the bandages, he was surprised at how much the wound healed in the past few days.
 
There was no sign of any infection.
 
Praise God.
 
He bandaged the injury again glad he could return to his own camp.

“Let me know if you have any troubles.
 
Otherwise, just take it easy for a few days.
 
I’d like to see you stay with the wagon and not return to horseback yet.”

The lieutenant gave a curt nod, indicating he would comply with the order.
 
As Drew stood to leave, Harrison looked him in the eye and said, “Thank you, Drew, for everything.”

Drew suspected he meant more than just doctoring.
 
Shaking the man’s offered hand, he smiled.

For the second night in a row, Hannah shot upright, wide awake long before dawn.
 
Her heart raced and she labored to pull air deeply into her lungs.
 
The image of a floating head speaking in staccato words faded as her eyes focused on the canvas tent protecting her from the elements.

Hannah had been running through a narrow valley, flanked by high mountains.
 
The Indian woman’s floating head chased her, screaming at her in guttural nonsensical sounds.
 
As Hannah ran, she stumbled over a body—what looked like Drew’s body, only his head was missing.
 
She tried to cry out for her husband, but her voice would not move past her throat.
 
Then, she ran past the body.
 
As she looked back, she failed to see the valley dropping over the edge of a cliff until it was too late.
 
She fell.
 
Just when she should have hit the bottom of the cliff, she woke up.

The dream had been so real, so taunting, so frightening.
 
She was convinced she was going to die on this forsaken journey.

Chapter
12

“That’s not how you do it!” Jed shouted at Hawk, pulling back on the reins as he moved his black mare within inches of Hawk’s mount.

Will shook his head, stopping Jackson so he could watch.
 
The two men—boys—Will was not really sure which they were—were at it again.

“I was close!” Hawk shouted back, reeling in the poor attempt at a lasso loop, sitting atop his white gelding.

“No you weren’t.
 
You’d never get that calf back with herd
goin
’ at ‘
im
like that.”

“Well, I
ain’t
been
doin
’ this more than a few weeks,” Hawk replied, setting the wound up rope over the horn of his saddle.
 
“I’ll bet you were just as bad when you first started.”

“What’d you say?” Jed leaned forward in his saddle.

“I said you were probably worse when you started!”

Leaping from his saddle, Jed knocked Hawk from his.
 
Both tumbled to the ground, Hawk landing on his back.
 
As Hawk gasped for air, Jed pounded his fist into Hawk’s jaw.
 
Quickly, Hawk recovered, flipping over so Jed was pinned to the ground.

Will remained still as the two wrestled each other, half tempted to break up the fight.
 
As long as neither tried to kill the other, he figured it would be best to let them work out their differences.

“Reminds me of two other young men,” Ben commented, pulling Shelia to a stop next to Will.

Snorting, Will asked the question to humor his old friend, “Yeah, who?”

“You and Reuben.”

“Let’s hope this works out better for both of them.”

The sound of a gun unsheathing drew Will’s attention back to the fight.

“What are you doing?” Jed shrieked as Hawk pointed the gun at Jed’s head.

Will and Ben dismounted, running towards the two.
 
He never suspected that Hawk would do something like this.
 
If he had, he would have put a stop to this sooner.

Shoving Jed’s head down to the ground with his open palm flat on his forehead, Hawk pulled the trigger seconds before either Will or Ben could stop him.
 
The bullet whizzed past Jed’s nose, severing a rattler’s head from its body.
 
The rattler’s head, having already been poised to strike, landed on Jed’s shoulder causing the color to drain from his face.

Both men sat motionless for several minutes, Jed’s chest heaving from either the exertion or the shock.

“Shoot!
 
Hawk just saved
yer
life,” Snake hollered from his vantage point near the chuck wagon.
 
“
Ain’t
never seen nothing like that.
 
He done cut that hisser in half!
 
Hee
,
hee
.”
 
Slapping a hand hard on his leg, Snake’s loud laughter was quickly swallowed up by the largeness of the flat plain.

Holstering his revolver, Hawk stood.
 
He held out a hand to help Jed up.
 
Jed brushed the dead snake head from his shoulder and took Hawk’s offered hand, still dumbfounded by the ordeal.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?
 
I’d have blown off half
yer
face,” Jed said in awe.

“My pa taught me,” Hawk answered, brushing the dust from his clothes.

Without a word of gratitude, Jed mounted his horse and took off towards the flank position in the herd—his inner conflict written all over his face.

“That was close,” Ben murmured only loud enough for Will to hear.
 
“Thank the Lord that boy didn’t have his heart set on
doin
’ Jed harm.”

Nodding, Will let go of his held breath.

“Mount up, boys!” Ben shouted, rallying the men to their horses for the start of the night drive.

Sighing, Will turned Jackson towards point, ready to be moving further along the trail.
 
Ben was right.
 
It was a good thing Hawk did not want to harm Jed. If only he could be sure Jed felt the same way.
 
In the weeks since their last scuffle back outside of Santa Fe, on the surface Jed seemed to tolerate Hawk.
 
He had not drawn his gun on the half-Indian again—in fear of Will’s wrath.
 
Perhaps he was warming up to Hawk.