Authors: Tracey Bateman
“He cares about you.”
Toni nodded. “Yes, but he feels guilty about it.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“He said he shouldn't care about me.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
Fannie drew in a sharp breath. Outrage filled her. “Oh.”
Why were men so stupid? “What does it matter what a person used to be?”
“Oh, Fannie. Men want good women to marry and bad women to make them feel manly after the good women become mothers. It's just the way it's always been. Women like me don't get second chances.”
“Women like you?”
“Soiled doves, my dear.” She dropped bacon into the skillet and watched it sizzle.
If Toni was a soiled dove, what did that make Fannie?
Fannie sat outside the circle listening to the mournful sounds of a lonely harmonica playing “Amazing Grace.” Her back ached with the days and days of constant work, and it felt good to sit alone against the wagon wheel and stare into a clear night sky. Alone with her thoughts.
As Blake had predicted, they'd spent a week in camp pulling things back together, and the train would finally be moving out tomorrow. Moving on with over sixty wagons less than a week ago. Between wagons lost, stock gone, and loss of life, folks would turn back to Blythe Creek and settle. For a while at least. Until they recovered enough either to push ahead or turn back for good.
Fannie heard the faint sound of boots on the soft ground. Fannie felt no sense of alarm, and looking toward the approaching figure confirmed there was no need. “Good evening, Mrs. Barnes.”
The widow waved her hand. “Please, we've been through
too much to stand on ceremony. Call me Sadie.” She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “That is one glorious moon, isn't it?”
“It sure is.” Fannie patted the ground beside her. “Care to join me?”
Sadie chuckled. “Only if you promise to help me back up if I get stuck down there.”
A grin twisted Fannie's lips. The first in a week. It was nice to feel anything other than sadness and loss. “I promise.”
With a grunt, Sadie plopped down next to Fannie, sharing the wagon wheel as a back support. She stretched her legs out in front of her.
“What are your plans once you reach Oregon?” Sadie asked.
The thought had been forefront in Fannie's mind for so long, her answer was immediate and without practice. “I plan to claim a piece of land, and Katie, Kip, and I will farm it.”
“Supplies cost money. You have what it takes to start up your own place?”
Fannie stiffened. It wasn't her practice to be forthcoming about personal things like finances. But she didn't want to offend Sadie, either.
Sadie patted her leg. “Just tell me it's none of my business, dear heart.”
“Oh, no. I didn't meanâ¦Well, actually⦔ She hesitated because truly it wasn't the other woman's business. Or anyone else's but theirs, and how would she ever explain the money she had tucked away for safekeeping? Especially when certain people already knew about the Wanted poster
and its implication that she was a thief. Was that what Sadie was getting at?
“I'm sure we will make out just fine,” she finally said.
“We women have a way of surviving even in the worst of situations.”
Something in her tone piqued Fannie's interest. “What will you do in Oregon? Do you have family there?”
“I'm afraid Jesus is all the family I have.” She turned to Fannie with a sad smile, half her face shadowed in the darkness of the wagon, the other half illuminated by the moon. The contrast made her sad smile all the sadder, and Fannie reached out without thought and took Sadie's hand. “My husband was killed in a hunting accident ten years ago.”
“That's horrible. I'm so sorry.” Fannie almost wished she hadn't asked. It wasn't that her heart wasn't squeezed with compassion, but how was she supposed to comfort the woman? “You never had children?” One look at Sadie's face and Fannie knew that was the wrong thing to ask. “I'm sorry, ma'am. It's none of my business.”
“It's okay, hon. I don't mind telling you. My Clark and I had three sons. All strapping young things, strong as oxen and twice as stubborn.”
Fannie smiled and squeezed her hand.
“A year ago, a bout of cholera swept through our hometown in Missouri. I don't know why I escaped and my boys didn't. When all was said and done, they were all gone, along with about half the town.”
“Oh, Miss Sadie. That seems so unfair.”
She nodded. “It's easy to blame God when life is unfair.”
Fannie's thoughts went to Mrs. Kane and all the other folks who had suffered such tragedy in last week's storm. “Do you ever blame Him?”
“I did.” She looked into the night sky as though searching for the face of God.
“No more?”
Sadie shook her head. “I can't lean on Him if I don't trust Him, and I can't trust Him if I believe He took my children.”
Fannie's throat tightened as she swallowed hard. “But what if He did?”
“Then I'd rather not know until I stand before Him and see the nail prints in His hands and the love in His eyes.”
In the light of such powerful faith, Fannie lost the ability to speak. So she joined Sadie in silence and closed her eyes, trying to make sense of such trust.
Finally, the older woman rustled beside her. “These muscles aren't going to let me sit on the ground any longer, my girl.”
Fannie hopped up and extended her arm. Sadie labored to her feet and kept hold of Fannie until she steadied herself. “Thank you,” Sadie said.
“A promise is a promise.”
Sadie chuckled and reached out, embracing Fannie and turning loose before Fannie could pull back, which she inevitably would have done.
“Good night, Miss Sadie,” Fannie said, her throat once more becoming thick as she fought back a rush of unwelcome, unbidden tears.
From within the wagon, she could hear the sounds of Toni getting ready for bed. Katie had fallen asleep long ago, and Kip had started bunking down with Blake, using a bedroll on the hard ground.
She wavered between fatigue and knowing she needed to turn in, what with the busy day ahead of them getting back on the trail after a full week. But she wasn't quite ready to relinquish her solitude. Dropping back to the ground, she once again leaned against the wagon wheel and searched the sky. Was Sadie foolish or wise in her faith?
When she heard the shuffle of feet, she turned with a smile. Sadie must have forgotten to say something. “Look at that smile, darlin'.” Willard James grabbed her hair and painfully yanked her to her feet. “You must have missed me.”
“Take your hands off me you dirty, stinking skunk,” she said, with more bravado than she felt. Rage filled her. How could she have been so careless?
He jerked on her hair, and Fannie fought to keep from crying out. “Don't give me any trouble, little girl. I won't think twice about snapping your neck. Now we had a deal, didn't we? And I expect you to keep your end of the bargain.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Fannie lifted her knee and brought her boot down hard on his foot.
“Ow! You little spitfire. Don't do that again.” One fist stayed tightened around a wad of her hair while the other gripped her throat. “You best start remembering.”
Fannie scowled. “I'm not going with you now. Not without a fight, anyway. Can't you see we've been through a twister? Don't you even care about your wife and children?”
“Believe me, I've been keeping my eye on them.”
“So Mrs. James is in cahoots with you.” She gave a bitter, humorless laugh. “Figures.”
“Leave my wife out of this and hand over the money.”
“I can't get it now, you fool. Everyone's in the wagon, and Toni's still awake.”
“That's not my concern.”
“Fannie?” Sadie's voice called softly. “Are you still up?”
“I'll be back,” Willard whispered in her ear, then turned her loose.
Weak with relief, Fannie leaned against the wagon, her hand flat against her stomach as she fought hard to keep from giving into the dizziness swarming her head.
“There you are.” She glanced about. “Is he gone?”
“Wh-who?”
“Willard James, that's who,” Sadie said, taking her arm. “Come on, let's go tell Blake.”
“Wait! How did you know?”
“I was on my way back to tell you that God was worth the effort to learn to trust, and I saw him. I figured if I called out, he'd run like a scared rabbit, and I was right.”
“You shouldn't have taken the chance, ma'am. What if he hadn't run away? He might have hurt us both.”
The woman nodded. “I thought of that, but I figured if I took time to get Blake, Willard might have time to hustle you off in the dark, and the men couldn't come after you until morning. By then it might be too late. So you see? I had no choice.”
Fannie didn't know what to say. She reached out in an un
common gesture of affection and wrapped her arms around the plump woman, laying her head against her shoulder. “I don't know how to thank you.”
Sadie wrapped motherly arms about Fannie and patted her back like a mother comforting a child. “You just did.” She held her out at arm's length. “Now let's go let Blake in on this.”
Blake listened to Fannie with a combination of fear, gratefulness, and pure anger.
He wasn't sure which emotion to give in to, so he picked the strongest. “And you didn't even consider maybe I should be informed that Willard was blackmailing you?”
“Mercy, Blake. Don't be so hard on the girl,” Sadie admonished. “She's had a difficult enough time without you making it worse.”
“I'm making it worse?” he asked incredulously. “She has been nothing but trouble since the second I laid eyes on her.”
Deep lines appeared between Sadie's eyes as she scowled. “Except for the seconds she was saving your miserable neck from a twister.”
Her words stopped him short. “What's that got to do with⦔
But Sadie wasn't finished. Nor was she talking to him. Her gaze was firmly fixed on Fannie. “I'd wager he never said a word of thanks, did he?”
“Now that you mention it, no he didn't.” Fannie raised her eyebrows and gave him a waiting look.
“Fine. Thank you for pulling me from the path of that
tornado. You saved my neck, like Sadie said.”
Although, come to think of it⦓If memory serves, I wouldn't have been in need of saving if you weren't intent on staring down a storm. I was running to save you and got myself knocked on the head in the process.”
“You were?” Fannie's lips parted with surprise. “I don't remember much about that night.”
At the sight of her innocent eyes, all the thunder left him. “I called out to you, but you couldn't hear me over the wind. You just stood there, hypnotized by the twister.” He remembered the fear he'd felt as though it had just occurred.
“I'm sorry,” Fannie whispered. “I almost got you killed.”
Blake wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and reassure her that he was fine. She was fine. They had survived together. But he knew he didn't have the right. She didn't belong to him. Besides, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that she wasn't finished causing trouble for him. If he took her in his arms, the small piece of his heart that didn't belong to her would be lost forever.
“It's all right, Fannie. We both came through it just fine.” He cleared his throat. “Now what are we going to do about Willard James?”
Â
Willard rode into the camp where Tom and George awaited him.
“Well?” Tom said around a greasy bite of squirrel. He licked each finger, then swiped the back of his hand over his thick lips.
He turned Willard's stomach.
“Someone came. I had to let her go.”
“Did you at least get my money?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
“Well, now. I'm having a hard time believing a thing you say, Will,” George said, tipping a flask. “This is the second time you've lost the girl.”
“I can't help it if the wagon master keeps a close eye on her. I swear I'll get her next time.”
“I don't know,” George said, staring into the flames. “I think it's time for Clay to move in and get the job done.”
As the wagon train left the flat plains of Kansas and entered into the rolling hills near the Platte, the landscape spreading out before Fannie was breathtaking. But as much as she enjoyed the scenery, the oxen struggled with the new terrain, and the wagons were forced to move more slowly, averaging eight miles per day instead of the usual ten to twelve.
Almost a week had gone by since Willard's late-night visit, and Fannie was beginning to think he'd given up, as Blake had once more posted a guard outside her wagon at night. Or was he simply biding his time, waiting to find her in a weak moment alone as he had the other night?
“Fannie?” Katie's sweet voice came up beside her from where the little girl walked alongside the wagon. “I see Mrs. Kane walking all alone by her wagon. May I walk with her?”
Fannie's brow lifted in surprise. “She's out walking?”
Toni swung around and nodded, confirming Katie's observation. “Maybe she's finally ready to face the world again.”
“Should I let Katie go?” Since the twister, and the two
incidents with Willard, Fannie had lost faith in her ability to gauge the safety of a situation.
Toni looked at her askance and lifted her shoulders. “I think it might be a good idea for them both.”
“Can I, Fannie?”
“I guess. But don't bring up Becca unless Mrs. Kane mentions her first, okay?”
The little girl nodded and climbed out of the slow-moving wagon.
“I wonder why the Kanes didn't go back with the others,” Toni said. “If you'd lost your child, wouldn't you?”
Fannie thought of Sadie. She shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe they needed to keep going toward something new. The past might be too painful.”
“That's true.”
“So, Hank is truly gone, huh?”
“It looks that way. He didn't go with the other wagons when they went back East, though. He must have ridden off alone.”
“Are you worried he might come back?”
Toni's lips twisted in a rueful smile. “I imagine he's decided I'm not worth the effort. I only hope he'll go back to his wife and children.”
“Me too.”
“Fannie, look.” Toni pointed across the hills to a lone rider.
“Is it Hank?”
She shook her head. “I don't think so. His horse is black and white. That one's brown.” She chewed her lower lip. “I
hope Blake or one of the scouts is paying attention.” Toni never seemed to feel quite safe.
“You miss having Sam around, don't you?”
“Not really.” The words were brave, but by the quick rise of color on Toni's cheeks, Fannie knew she was lying.
She quirked her lips into a grin. “Sure, you don't.”
“One man's about the same as another, Fannie. If I miss Sam, it's just because he's the best scout in the wagon train, and we're not nearly as safe without him.”
“What about Blake?”
“He has too many responsibilities to keep his attention on the train's safety. Sam's the best,” she said, with a finality that brooked no argument. So, for once, Fannie gave her none. It was obvious she cared deeply for Sam. But something had changed between them just before he'd pulled out with the sixty other wagons, and Fannie wasn't sure what. But she didn't feel right about prying, so she kept her curiosity in check. Besides, the rider came closer, cresting the summit of the nearest hill.
“There's Blake going out to meet him.”
Fannie's stomach did a turn inside of her. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Oh, Fannie. So do I,” Toni said, the words releasing with a full breath.
The sun reflected off the rider's shirt and Blake had a sinking feeling he was staring at a U.S. Marshal. As the man drew closer, the tin star wrapped in a circle confirmed his suspicion.
The lawman spit a stream of tobacco juice and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Blake stiffened. There were two types of lawmen as far as he was concerned. The ones who lived by the letter of the law, serving with integrity and fairness. And the worst sort of character for anyone in authority. The ones who served their own agendas. Blake was willing to reserve judgment for this marshal, but he wouldn't be surprised if the fellow was the latter.
“Good afternoon, Marshal,” he said, pulling on Dusty's reins to halt the horse.
The marshal acknowledged him with a nod. Greasy blond hair peeked out from underneath an equally dirty hat. Downwind, Blake had to fight the urge to cover his nose against the man's stench. Another stream of brown juice shot from his mouth. “You the wagon master of this outfit?”
“I am. Is there trouble?”
“That depends on you.”
“How do you figure?”
The marshal reached into his vest and pulled out a paper. Blake's heart clenched. There was no doubt what the paper would reveal. The marshal held it out, and Blake recognized the sketches of Toni and Fannie.
“You recognize these women?”
“What if I said no?”
The man lifted one eyebrow and looked over Blake toward the wagon train. “Then I'd exercise my right to search your wagons.”
“That's what I figured.” Helpless frustration slithered
through him. What else could he do but hand the two women over?
“They're traveling with a couple of children.”
“I ain't interested in anyone but those two.”
“Give me some time to talk to them and make arrangements for the children.”
For a moment, Blake was afraid the marshal would refuse him this request. But after some perusal, the man nodded in agreement.
“You have a half hour.”
Blake rode back alone, trying to formulate the words. When he saw Fannie headed out to meet him, he knew he didn't have to break the news to her. She was ready.
Fannie knew by the look on Blake's face that her fears were justified. When he reached her, he swung down from his horse and stopped in front of her. “I guess you figured out what that was about?”
“Who is he?”
“U.S. Marshal.”
“Marshal who?”
A sheepish blush crept to Blake's sun-bronzed cheeks. “I didn't even think to ask.”
“I guess it doesn't matter.” The last time Fannie had seen the marshal come through Hawkins, he didn't look anything like that man. But then maybe they were far enough west that another marshal had jurisdiction.
“Look, Fannie. You're wanted for murder and stealing. Is there anything to either?”
“Definitely not murder.”
“Stealing?”
“I told you already. I took what I figure is my fair share and Kip's and Katie's for all the work we did after the two years Silas agreed to.”
Blake scrubbed his hand over his stubble. “Oh, Fannie. Your sense of justice might not match a judge's.”
“Are you going to just let him take me?”
“I don't have any choice.”
Fannie's heart began to beat a rhythm of betrayal so loudly in her ears that she couldn't hear what he was saying. She stared stupidly, wishing she could blame him. Wishing she wouldn't do the very same thing. He had a full wagon train to worry about. She and Toni were two women who, by his own admission, had been nothing but trouble for him since he first laid eyes on them.
“You know,” she said. “Hank killed Arnold.”
He turned sharp eyes on her. “Hank Moore?”
She nodded. “He was going to take us back to Hawkins. Hank showed up and told us to go on, and he would tie Arnold up and join us to say good-bye.”
“So when you left the dead man he wasn't dead?” Hope lit Blake's eyes.
“That's right. And when Hank showed up, he had blood on his trousers.”
“Then we need to find Hank.”
Fannie's heart sank. “I don't think that's going to do us any good.”
“I'll make him tell the truth,” he said fiercely. Fannie's heart swelled at the emotional outburst.
“I doubt we're going to find him, anyway.”
“Sam could track him.”
“Maybe. But Sam's not here.”
They fell into silence as they walked the rest of the way back to the wagon train, Blake leading Dusty by the reins.
Toni shook her head when she saw Fannie. “I take it the caller is here to escort you and me to a party.”
“Don't make jokes, Toni,” Fannie said wearily.
“I'm sorry.” She turned her attention to Blake. “Is he taking us back to Hawkins?”
“As far as I know.” Blake took hold of Fannie's elbow. “You need to decide what to do about Katie and Kip.”
Alarm sucked the strength from her legs, and she stumbled. Blake steadied her within the circle of his arm.
“I can't take them with me?”
“Do you really want to take them back to Hawkins, Fannie?” Toni asked. “Think about where they'd end up.”
“Tom.”
“Exactly.”
Fannie looked down the line of wagons and spotted Katie's strawberry blonde hair. She chattered happily with Mrs. Kane. The woman laughed at something the little girl said and reached out with a full embrace.
In a flash, she'd made her decision. “Wait here.” Without staying for an answer, she walked down the line until she came face-to-face with the giggling pair.
“I declare, Fannie,” Mrs. Kane said through smiling lips. “Your sister was telling me the funniest story about your pa getting stuck in the chimney.”
Fannie gasped. “You remember that, Katie?”
She nodded. “He was trying to pretend he was Santa. Remember?”
“Of course I do.” If the child held a memory from when she was only six years old, she wouldn't be likely to forget Fannie.
“Katie, I need to talk to Mrs. Kane for a few minutes. Will you please run along and gather your things from the wagon?”
“What for?”
“I don't have time to explain right now. Please do as I asked.”
When she was out of earshot, Fannie gave Mrs. Kane a frank look and included her husband where he sat in the wagon. “Mr. and Mrs. Kane. I have a bit of a problem, and I need help.”
By the time she finished her story of their past three years and her fears for Katie and Kip, Mr. and Mrs. Kane had agreed to keep both children.
“If I ever prove I'm innocent, I'll be back for them,” she warned.
“We understand.”
She gathered a shaky breath as she walked back to her wagon. Blake had had the foresight to summon Kip. “What's wrong, Fannie?” the boy asked.
“Do you see that man over on that hill?” She pointed toward the summit.
The twins nodded.
“He's a U.S. Marshal. Apparently, they found Arnold dead and think Toni or I or both of us killed him.”
“I won't let him take us back!” Kip said.
“Oh Kip,” Fannie said sadly. “I don't have time to argue with you.”
But Kip wasn't done. He swung around and faced Blake with fury. “Why are you letting him take us?”
Fannie grabbed his arm to get his attention. “Listen to me. I mean it. Blake doesn't have a choice. What do you want him to do, shoot a marshal?”
“But we didn't kill anyone.”
“I know. And hopefully the judge will believe us.” Fannie didn't hold out a lot of hope for that particular miracle.
“This is why you wanted me to gather my things?” asked Katie.
“Yes, baby.”
“Are they going to put us in jail?” the little girl whispered, her eyes filled with fear. Fannie reached out and embraced her, holding her tightly. “The marshal isn't here for you and Kip, sweetheart.”
“Good,” Kip said. “I'll break you out of jail.”
“You're not coming with us,” Fannie said flatly. “The Kanes have agreed to keep the two of you until I get back.”
The twins set up a howl of protest to put a pack of coyotes to shame. “That's enough, you two. I can't look after you if you come. Do you really want to go back to Hawkins and have some judge give you right back to Tom?”
Katie shook her head.
“Well, I don't want that either.”
“I ain't staying.”
“You are. And that's the end of it, Kip. We only have about ten minutes left. Do you want to spend it arguing?”
“No.”
“All right. Get inside and gather your things and move them to the Kanes' wagon.”
For once the lad obeyed. Fannie turned to Blake. “I need to speak with you alone.”
Toni placed an arm around Katie's shoulders. “Come on, Katie. Let's go make sure you have everything you're going to need.”
When they stood alone, Fannie sized him up, hating that she was in a position to trust someone. But she had no choice. “I want you to look after the twins' money.”
Blake frowned. “I don't know if that's such a good idea, Fannie.”
“You're the only one I trust. I don't know the Kanes well enough to hand over a few hundred dollars. They might squander it on their own land or things that don't matter. I want it put aside for the twins so that they have a future.”
Fannie hated to beg, but the very fact that he hesitated proved he was the right man for the role of godfather for the twins. “Please, Blake. Don't I have enough to worry about without adding this to the list?”
His eyes softened. “All right, Fannie. You have my word. But if you're not back by the time we reach Oregon, I'll head back over the mountains to find you.”
At the fierce honesty of his vow, Fannie's pulse quickened. “You will?”
He nodded and moved closer, but stopped at the sound of Kip's voice. “The marshal's headed this way.”
Fannie turned to the hills. She jumped into the wagon, found the money bag, and shoved it into Blake's hands. “You promised.”
He nodded. “I promised.”
She turned to the twins. “Come here, Kip and Katie. Quickly.”
Wrapping them both in her arms, she fought hard not to weep.
As she held them, her gaze fell on Blake's. There was no mistaking the passion in his eyes. The utter helplessness. “Look after them, Blake.”