Bound For Eden (25 page)

‘Do you want to swap horses?' Luke offered.

Alex gave Delilah a withering look. ‘Don't think I haven't noticed the looks she's been giving me.'

‘It's all in your head.' But even Luke had to admit that Alex lacked a certain rapport with horses. The minute Jack saw the runt coming, he tensed up and got jumpy. And the gelding was one of the most placid horses Luke had ever seen.

Still, at least the kid could sit a horse properly now. And he really wasn't bad in the saddle, or wouldn't be if he didn't shriek with fear every time the horse did something he wasn't expecting.

Not like his brother. That Adam was a born horseman. You only had to show him something once and he was doing it like an expert. And he genuinely loved the animals. Luke enjoyed riding out with him; he wished either one of his own brothers had half as much interest in horses.

Alex wondered what Luke was thinking about. He had surprised her in the last few days. She'd had him pegged as a social animal. She'd figured that a man who flirted with every woman he met must like the company of people. And he seemed to, in moderation. But once they rode out on the plains, and the wagons had receded into the dusty distance, he tended to be quieter, more introverted. Now that she'd learned the basics of riding, he was prone to just light out and leave her to follow.

She thought that that was when he was happiest – when he and Delilah were tearing across the plains, moving as one, leaving a plume of dust in their wake. Sometimes they'd ride a whole morning and he'd barely speak. And, to her relief, Alex found herself beginning to relax around him.

It was easier, of course, like this: when she was a boy. He didn't turn that burning black gaze on her and melt her mind to mush. She watched him do to it to the other women in the party: Lucinda Crawford had taken to doing his laundry, Victoria and Ilse Ulrich fought over who would cook his dinner (sometimes he ate from both cook pots, just to keep the peace), and even five-year-old Ellen O'Brien and six-year-old May Crawford competed for his attention around the campfire at night.

Now that she was no longer subject to his charms, Alex had a chance to examine him as he bewitched the females of the species. It wasn't necessarily that he was a shameless flirt, although Alex hadn't ruled out that explanation entirely; it was simply that he gave a woman his full attention. He looked right into her eyes and nothing distracted him. She became the entire world to him. And what woman could resist that? Coupled with the fact that he looked like some kind of fallen angel.

‘Here it is,' Luke announced, as he pulled Delilah up beside the river.

‘What?' Alex almost sailed over Jack's head as the horse stopped short. She swore he did it deliberately.

‘This is where we'll cross this afternoon, and tonight we'll camp at Ash Hollow.'

‘We're crossing the river?' Alex looked dubiously at the swirling river.

‘We have to. The river splits up yonder. If we keep on this south side we'll end up in Colorado.'

‘You want me to drive the wagon across that?'

‘It's only a couple of feet deep. At most.' He noticed the runt's disgruntled expression. ‘Are you going to complain about everything on this trip? 'Cause it's going to get pretty tiresome.'

‘I'd hate to tire you,' Alex snipped, ‘but I'd think you could have given us a little warning that we'd be fording rivers today.'

‘
A
river, runt. You'll be fording
a
river. And it ain't much of one if it's only two feet deep.'

‘But I have to take your word for it that it's only two feet deep.'

‘Stop being such a girl. Come on, I'll race you back.' As always, he didn't wait for her.

She had no chance of catching him, so she didn't bother. She kept to a brisk trot, taking the opportunity to practise her skills. She thought she might be getting better – she could certainly feel the muscles in her legs working.

When she got back it was to find Delilah hitched to the back of their wagon, and Luke asleep on Victoria's quilt. ‘What's he doing back there?' Alex snapped, peering between Adam and Victoria into the depths of the wagon.

‘He was tired, poor thing,' Victoria said.

‘Where have you been?' Adam demanded. ‘It's my turn to ride Jack.'

‘But Luke's asleep.'

‘He said I could ride alongside the wagon.'

‘But no further, Adam. Remember?' Victoria warned. ‘He said Jack would be tired after all Alex put him through.'

‘All I . . .?' Alex was offended. ‘I didn't put him through anything. If anyone suffered it was me.'

Jack whickered and Alex gave him a dark look.

‘Hi, boy,' Adam beamed, offering him a handful of sugar. He was in the saddle the minute Alex had clambered over to the wagon.

And Victoria shoved the reins at her the minute her rear hit the bench. ‘Did he tell you about the river?' Alex asked crankily.

‘What about the river?' Now that she was no longer driving, Victoria swivelled so that she had a clear view of Luke asleep in the back. Alex noticed with no small measure of satisfaction that he'd covered his face with his hat, depriving Victoria of her chance to ogle him.

‘We're fording the damn thing this afternoon.'

‘Watch your language. What do you mean we're fording it?'

‘We're crossing it.' Alex was satisfied to see the colour drain from Victoria's face. ‘I know,' she commiserated, ‘that's how I feel.'

Victoria looked at the spangled surface of the Platte. ‘Well,' she said carefully, ‘if Luke thinks we should.'

‘Aw, hell, Victoria.'

‘Watch your language!' Victoria snapped again. ‘What would Ma and Pa say? Just because you're dressed like a boy is no reason to act like one.'

Alex hissed and jerked her head at Luke's sleeping form. Victoria flushed.

‘Well, it isn't!' Victoria muttered.

‘Actually,' Alex said in a forceful whisper, ‘I think it's every reason!'

‘Not when we're alone, it's not. I don't see why I should have to be subjected to your vulgarity.'

‘Oh, don't be such a girl,' Alex snapped, borrowing Luke's phrase.

Victoria turned her back and refused to speak. She was still as silent as a stone a couple of hours later when it came time to cross the river. By then Luke was in the middle of the river, on Delilah, directing traffic. To Alex's horror, Adam was right beside him, the water lapping at his boots while Jack stood calmly in the current.

‘Get off that horse,' she ordered when they reached the river and Luke and Adam came to check on them.

‘He'll be fine,' Luke insisted, ‘he can stay with me.'

‘He can't swim.'

‘He won't need to.'

‘What if he falls in?'

‘He won't. And even if he does, the water'll barely wet his knees.' The man was impossible. Alex had to grit her teeth as she watched him take Adam away from her. And now look at them both, out there midstream, as though they were invincible. Alright, so the river was only a couple of feet deep, but that was hardly the point, was it?

‘Now listen, you lot,' Alex said, addressing the mules as their turn came to cross, ‘no funny business, you hear?' They ignored her and plunged straight in.

After all of Alex's worrying the crossing was accomplished in just a few minutes. It was what came after, that she should have been worrying about. After the endless plains, she saw they now faced a sharp incline.

Alex swallowed hard as she watched the wagons in front tackle the steep hill. ‘Get out of the wagon, Vicky.'

‘I will not.' They were the first words her sister had spoken for hours and they were said in the frostiest tone imaginable.

‘If the wagon tips over, I don't want you in it.'

Victoria blinked. She looked back and forth between the hill and Alex. She noticed the way Alex's fingers trembled as they held the reins. ‘But what about you? What happens to you if the wagon tips over?'

‘I'll be fine.'

‘Then so will I.'

Alex took in Victoria's firmly set jaw and felt a little less afraid. She hadn't quite realised the distance that had sprung up between them since they'd arrived in Independence. She had to admit that she was glad she wasn't facing the forbidding hill alone.

They heard the hoofbeats as Adam came down the hill towards them. ‘You get off that animal right now,' Alex demanded. ‘Suppose he falls down the hill? You'd break your neck.'

Adam ignored her, and kept well out of her arm's reach, in case she tried to haul him into the wagon. ‘Luke says to fan out, don't stay behind the O'Brien's. He says to stop when you reach the top and we'll go down one by one.' Alex couldn't believe the change in her brother. There was actually a note of authority in his voice.

‘Luke wouldn't have us do this if it wasn't safe,' Victoria said firmly.

‘He isn't God, you know,' Alex muttered as she watched the mules strain against the harness as they pulled the wagon up. She made the mistake of turning to look back. Through the canvas-covered hoops of the wagon she could see the sharp, grassy drop. Her stomach lurched and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. ‘How on earth are we going to get down the other side?' she asked in alarm.

‘Luke will know how.'

Alex resisted the urge to pitch her sister down the hill. If Luke was so fantastic why wasn't he right here driving the wagon, instead of sitting safely on the crest of the hill on his wretched horse?

Of course, Luke did know how they were going to get down safely. And wouldn't you know it, Alex grumbled, his solution required Alexandra Barratt to get her hands dirty.

The chuck wagon was the first one down. Sebastian and Luke tied ropes to the wagon and all the men were enlisted to act as human brakes. The Watts brothers took one rope, Mal Crawford and Ned O'Brien another, Reinhard Ulrich and Adam another, and Luke and Alex the fourth.

‘Brace yourself with your feet, runt,' Luke warned, taking his position behind her and grasping the rope with his gloved hands. ‘Everyone ready?' he called. When he'd received the affirmatives, he yelled for Sebastian to start down.

The sudden weight of the wagon almost jerked Alex off her feet. She dug her heels into the soft turf, but still felt herself slide. The ropes creaked as the wagon strained against them, but slowly they eased it down to the valley floor below.

When they were safely down, Alex bent double, trying to catch her breath. The muscles in her arms, back and thighs were screaming.

‘Only five more to go,' Luke said.

She looked up at him in horror. Five more? She wasn't sure she could do
one
more. Hell, she'd barely managed that one. And she still had to walk back up that devil of a hill!

The women were waiting at the top with flasks of water. The Watts brothers ignored them and dug out their moonshine.

If she thought the chuck wagon was hard work, she found the Crawford's wagon murder. Theirs was a massive broad-wheeled monster of a wagon, which needed six oxen to pull it. This time Luke reached his arms around Alex, gripping the rope slightly ahead of her hands, so that she could brace herself against his body. As the wagon pulled them down the hill, leaving deep grooves in the earth, she could feel Luke straining, and could hear his breath come fast and shallow.

When that wagon too was at rest in the valley Alex collapsed on the grass. It was soft and cool. ‘I'm not getting up again,' she huffed, as she watched Luke draw deep, shuddering breaths.

‘Come on, runt,' he coaxed, and she swore there was a teasing gleam in his eye, ‘you don't want everyone to think you're a girl, do you? What about Jane O'Brien? She's right up there watching you.'

‘So let her take a rope,' Alex suggested waspishly. But she took his hand when he offered to help her up and trudged after him up the hill.

Alex didn't know how she managed it, but somehow she struggled up that hill four more times, and strained against that rope four more times. And eventually they were all down that devil of a slope.

‘Welcome to Ash Hollow,' Luke announced with a flourish of one tired arm. When Alex recovered enough to look up she thought they may well have entered Paradise.

Twenty-Two

It was only when she saw the stands of cottonwoods that Alex realised she hadn't seen a tree for weeks. Spring had burned into summer as they crossed the plains, leaving them sunburned and sweaty and dusty. Ash Hollow was like a memory of spring: shadowy and cool and lush. Luke had them circle the wagons beneath the green shade, enclosed by a verdant riot of wild roses, grapevine, and currant bushes. The air was heavy with the mineral tang of fresh water and the heady perfume of flowering jasmine.

‘Oh, Luke,' Victoria exclaimed, taking his arm and giving it a squeeze, ‘this is just how I imagine Eden must have looked.'

‘Ah, well,' he laughed, neatly disentangling himself, ‘this is nothing compared to Oregon.' He plucked a full blown rose of palest pink and offered it to Victoria.

Alex watched, fascinated. Look how he managed to get away from her without hurting her feelings. While Victoria was busy inhaling the perfume of the rose, he simply disappeared into the milling livestock. And poor old Victoria thought she'd been honoured. She thought the rose meant something.

Alex remembered the night of the dance, the way Luke had made her feel special, bribing the band to play only slow dances. Given time, she too would have been distracted with a rose while he slipped away to the next girl and the next dance.

Oh, she was such a fool. She felt the familiar sick flush of shame. She'd thrown herself away on him. On a man who already had a sweetheart waiting for him. The poor woman, Alex thought. She had no idea of the life ahead of her: always wondering which woman would catch his fancy next. Because a man like Luke Slater would never be faithful, not when every woman swooned at his feet. And not when he could escape them so easily, without leaving a shred of anger in his wake.