Courage to Love (Flynn Family Saga) (2 page)

*  *  *

When they finally woke, it was almost dawn.

Maggie stretched luxuriously.  Her whole body hummed with happiness.  Then, her stomach growled.

Flynn laughed.  “I bet that’s the first time in your life you ever missed dinner.”

Maggie sighed ruefully and nodded.  “For the first time in my life, I was having too much fun.”

They dressed quickly and walked down the stairs to Kate’s kitchen for breakfast.

Sam’s battered Bible sat beside Maggie’s plate.

She stared at him.  “Papa?”

Sam came over and laid a large hand on his shoulder.  “Go ahead.  Open it.”

Maggie opened the book.  Rows of names filled the blank pages, but not one of them had the last name of Anders.  “Margaret and Daniel Mead, born—  Papa, you’ve written down all the births on the trail.”

Sam nodded solemnly.  “And the deaths.”  He turned to the back pages.

Tears filled Maggie’s eyes.  “George Edwards.”  Her finger traced the names of all those who died of cholera her first year on with the wagon train.  "I—I couldn’t save him.”

Sam’s hand tightened gently on her shoulder.  “There are people I couldn’t save, either.”  He reached over and turned the page.

“Michael and Lucy O’Brien,” Maggie whispered.  She shut the book with a snap and held it out toward Sam.  “That wasn’t your fault, Papa.  You tried to give my flesh-and-blood father a chance, and he threw it away.”  Anger edged her voice.  She got up and went to the window.

Sam came over to her and touched her shoulder.  “You gave them more than one chance, Maggie.  It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”  He sighed.  “Anyway, I want you to have this.  Since you’re talking over the family business.”

Maggie’s breath caught.  She turned back to him, her red braid swinging as she turned.  “Thank you, Papa.”

He smiled and hugged her.  “Make me proud, Magpie.”

She nodded, too moved to speak.

After breakfast, Maggie and Flynn set up a table outside Grover’s General Store.  The sky was still gray and threatening, but at least the snow had stopped.  A few people walked by, but none of them even slowed down.  At noon, Maggie bought two mugs of soup from the restaurant across the street and brought them to the table.  She warmed her hands around the mug.  Beside her, Flynn shivered in the bitter wind.

Two couples strolled by, but no one stopped.

That night, Maggie pushed her food around her plate.  Flynn nudged her elbow gently and looked pointedly toward Kate.  Maggie nodded and cleaned her plate.

Later, after they went to bed, Flynn held Maggie in his arms.  She nestled her head into the hollow of his shoulder.  It was a perfect fit.  Usually, Maggie relaxed into sleep quickly, but this night, fear scrabbled around inside her head like a mouse in a trap, trying to get out.

Flynn sighed and propped himself on one elbow.  “It’s just the first day, Maggie.  It’s cold, and it snowed yesterday.  You know greenhorns.”

Maggie bit her lip.  “What if nobody signs up with us?”

“Then we’ll do something else.”

“Like what?”

He stroked her hair back from her face.  “Well, you’re the best horse trainer I ever met.  We could train horses and sell them.”

Maggie nodded slowly.  “I love that almost as much as I love training greenhorns.”

“And we could teach.  Maybe start our own school.”

Slowly, Maggie grinned.  “Did you ever find out what ‘pheeze’ means?”

“
The Taming of the Shrew
?”

Maggie nodded.

He grinned back.  “Nope.  But I came up with some interesting theories.  Want to try them out?”

Maggie nodded eagerly.

Laughing, he began to unlace her nightgown.

*  *  *

The days passed, and no one signed up.

A week after they rode into St. Jo, Maggie got up and went to the window.  She remembered the first year she worked for Sam, training greenhorns for the arduous trek to California.  She remembered how happy she was.  And how sad she felt when the wagon train left without her.  Tears burned her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.  She heard the sound of Flynn’s crutch as he got out of bed and came over to her.  “It’s going to be all right, Maggie.  If I could learn to walk and ride and fight again, anything is possible.”

Maggie nodded.

He turned her to face him.  He put one arm around her and held her close.  Maggie rested her cheek against his chest.  His heart beat, slow and steady.  She sighed, and a little of the tension ebbed out of her.  Flynn took her back to bed.  They didn’t make love, but just the feel of his arms around her was comforting, and she slept without dreaming.

Morning dawned bright and warm.  Maggie woke feeling refreshed and hopeful.  She ran down the stairs.  Flynn followed more slowly.  His new harness creaked, but at least he didn’t limp.  Maggie ate a large breakfast and set up her table in front of the General Store.  There were more people on the street than there had been before, but none of them stopped.

Maggie shut her eyes, fighting back tears.

“Excuse me.  Is this the Flynn wagon train?”

Recognizing Sam’s familiar growl, Maggie opened her eyes.  “Papa, you promised you wouldn’t interfere.”

Sam nodded solemnly.  “I know.  But when the two people I love most need help...well, all bets are off.”

Maggie bit her lip.  “We could use the help, Papa.  But you can’t come with us.”

“I can’t? “  Sam’s voice rose dangerously, and his face turned red.  “Maggie O’Brien Anders Flynn, you’re not too big to take over my knee.”

Maggie drew a deep breath.  “Papa, you have a heart condition.  If you take it easy, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t live long enough to see your grandchildren.”

Slowly, Sam grinned.  “Grandchildren, huh?  Well, when you put it like that...”

Maggie grinned back.  “And I do.”

Sam shook his head.  “You drive a hard bargain, Maggie.”

“Why Papa.  That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”

Sam laughed.  He went into the store and brought out another chair and sat down next to his adopted daughter.

A young couple came up to the table.  “Is this the Anders’ outfit?”

Maggie turned to them and shook her head.  “The name is Flynn.”

The young man hesitated.  “Will you be leading the train, Mr. Flynn?”

Flynn shook his head.  “I’m the scout.  My wife will boss the train.”

“A
woman
?”  The young man looked skeptical.

“Maggie traveled with me for four years,” Sam said, laying a hand on Maggie’s shoulder.

“I heard you only have one leg, Mr. Flynn.”  The young man raised his chin.

Flynn got to his feet.  He towered a good ten inches above the young man.

The young man’s face reddened.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Flynn.”

Slowly, Flynn smiled.  “No offense taken, son.”

The young man held out his hand.  “My name is David Ellis.  And this is my wife, Mary, and our son, Peter.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ellis, Mrs. Ellis.”  Flynn shook hands with David and touched his hat and nodded to Mary.  He went down on one knee and held out his hand to Peter.  “Pleased to meet you, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes widened.  “Are you really Robert Sean Flynn?”

Flynn smiled at her.  “Yup.”

Mary stared at Flynn adoringly.  “I’ve read all the books about you.”

Maggie ground her teeth.  “There’s more than one?”

“Oh yes.  Simon Henderson has written a whole series about the wild west.”  Mary turned to David.  “David, this is the one.”

David shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Who else is on the crew?”

Maggie lifted her chin.  “Ben Brewster will be bossing the outriders.”

David nodded.  “Well, as long as Brewster and Flynn are around to protect us...”  He reached for the articles.

Flynn grabbed his wrist.  “Mr. Ellis, I don’t think you understand.  My wife can shoot as well or better than any man I’ve ever known.  When I got myself into trouble last season,
she’s
the one who tracked me and killed four outlaws single-handedly.”

Ellis looked from Flynn to Maggie and back again.

Maggie stood up.  “There’s an easy way to settle this, Mr. Ellis.  If you would care to accompany us?”

Ellis hesitated.  Then, he nodded.

They walked to the edge of town.  Peter trailed along beside his father.  Maggie turned to David Ellis.  “You pick a target.”

David frowned.  He squinted at a tree stump about twenty yards away.  “There.”

“Mr. Ellis, if I may borrow your hat?”  Maggie smiled at him sweetly.

David took off his ridiculously large Stetson and handed it to her.  Maggie handed the hat to Peter.  “Put this on the stump, will you please?”

Peter nodded eagerly.  He ran over to the stump and placed the hat in the center.  Then, he ran back and stood next to his father.

Maggie drew and fired in one, swift motion.  David’s hat flew off the stump.  Maggie turned to David.  “Mr. Ellis, if you would care to retrieve your hat?”

David walked over to his hat and picked it up.  He fingered a bullet hole located dead center of the crown.  His face went pale.  He walked back slowly.

When he reached her, Maggie grinned.  “Any questions, Mr. Ellis?”

David swallowed hard.  “Just one, ma’am.”  Slowly, he smiled and held out his hand.  “Where do I sign up?”

Smiling, Maggie shook his hand.

As they walked back to the general store, Peter tugged on Maggie’s sleeve.  She turned to him.  “Yes, Peter?”

“Will you teach me how to shoot a gun, Miz Flynn?”

Maggie looked at David questioningly.

He nodded.  “I would be honored, Mrs. Flynn, if you would teach us both how to shoot.”

Maggie nodded back.  “The training is included in the cost of the trip, Mr. Ellis.”

“Thank you.”  David looked relieved.  He placed his hand on his son’s shoulder, and they seemed to walk a little taller.

Watching them, Maggie smiled.

“This is the one, Jed.”

Maggie turned.

An older couple stood behind her.  The woman was short and stout with gray hair and eyes.  Her husband was tall and sturdily built, with broad shoulders and pale blue eyes beneath salt-and-pepper eyebrows.

Maggie held out her hand.  “I’m Maggie Flynn.”

“My name is Abigail Barrett, and this is my husband, Jed.”  She held out a strong, callused hand.  “Everyone calls me Abby.”

Maggie shook Abby’s hand.  “My friends call me, Maggie.”

Abby smiled at her.  “We’re going to San Francisco, Mrs. Flynn.  My son moved out there, and his wife just had a baby.  Jed here is getting too old to go sailing ships halfway around the world.”  She grinned impishly.  "Besides, this last year, he developed sea-sickness."

Jed scowled.  “Now, Abby, she doesn’t need to know all that.”

Abby turned to Jed.  “We’re going to be living together for the next six or seven months.  She’ll know more about us than Mrs. Riggs back in Nelson’s Cove.  And she knew what we had for supper before I was finished washing up.”

Jed grinned at his wife.  “You’re right, Abby.  As usual.”

Maggie smiled at them.  “Here are the articles.  Feel free to take them back to your boarding house and study them.”

Jed shook his head.  “I’ve been sizing up people for half a century, Mrs. Flynn.  I can tell the two of you are trustworthy.  Do we need to sign or is my handshake enough?”

Maggie hesitated.  “I would trust you and your wife, Mr. Barrett, but it wouldn’t be fair to the other travelers.”

Jed signed the articles quickly with a surprisingly elegant hand.

Maggie smiled at him.  She watched as the Barretts walked away, arm in arm, and sighed.

Flynn tilted her chin up.  “What is it, Magpie?”

Maggie smiled at him.  “I hope we still look at each other that way when we’re their age.”

Flynn looked at her.  Slowly, he grinned.  “I’ll hold you to it, Mrs. Flynn.”

Maggie smiled back.

*  *  *

Four weeks later, the greenhorns had learned to hitch and unhitch their wagons and drive their teams.  They had bought too much flour and not enough ammunition, and Maggie had checked every wagon to make sure the loads were balanced and light enough to make it across the Sierras.  Then, they drove the wagons onto the river barges.

That night, they camped beside the Missouri River.  The night was warm, and Flynn unrolled their bedrolls next to the lead wagon.  Maggie nestled close to him and sighed.  Flynn watched her face in the firelight.  He marveled at this woman who loved this life as much as he did.  He shut his eyes and slept.

He dreamed again of Elmira, of the rows and rows of unmarked graves.  All except one.  The last one had a headstone:

Maggie O’Brien Anders Flynn

Born
September 3, 1854

Died
August 27, 1873

Flynn woke with a start.  Usually, the sound of the river soothed him, but this time, the nightmare continued to haunt him until dawn turned the sky a pale blue, and Ben Brewster walked down the line, waking the greenhorns.

CHAPTER TWO

Ben Brewster and Frank Lennox arrived on the 20th of March.  Billy Brewster rode with his father.  Maggie grinned at her friends.  "You're late."

Ben grinned back.  "Billy held us back."

Billy scowled.  "That's not fair, Papa.  You wouldn't leave Mama until you were sure."

Maggie blinked.  "Sure of what?"

Ben's face reddened.  "We're having another baby."

Maggie smiled.  "Congratulations!"

Ben nodded.  "Now, where are these greenhorns?  And how much are you going to pay me to whip 'em into shape?"

"Down at the corral.  As usual.  And I'm going to pay you $200, the same as Sam did."

"What about Billy?"

Maggie snorted.  "I should charge
you
for training him."

Ben shook his head.  "I taught him everything I know..."

The two friends dickered amiably over Billy's salary and came up with $50.  They shook hands on it.

"$50?"  Billy's eyes widened.  "I've never even seen that much money."

Maggie thought of the empty rangeland, a few miles north of Ben's ranch house.  She thought of the barbed wire and riders with guns who kept Ben's cattle and horses from grazing there, and the stubbornness of Terence Barclay, the man who owned the land and refused to sell.  She sighed.  "Well, you will at the end of this trip, Billy."