Dorothy Garlock (14 page)

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Authors: The Searching Hearts

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“Tucker’s right. You do talk too much.”
“What?”
“I said you talk too much. Do you feel sorry for me?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Don’t you know?” he asked in a voice that was low and choked.
“Know what?” she asked weakly, suddenly terribly afraid of what he would say.
Buck’s stomach had twisted into a cold, hard knot. He felt a black pall of doom settling over him. Finally he spoke, his voice remote and toneless.
“I’m part Indian. I’m what’s known as a breed.”
“Oh, that!” She let out a sigh of relief, and when she turned her face to his shirt he could feel her shaking with silent laughter. “I was so afraid! I was afraid you were going to say you had a wife and six children, or you had a horn in the middle of your forehead.”
He reined in his horse. She was still laughing and was such a pleasure to look at—warm, sparkling, and pretty. He wished he could enfold her warmth in his arms and kiss her. Sternly he put such thoughts from his mind. She must not have understood what he said.
“Didn’t you hear what I said, Laura? I’m part Indian.”
“I know that, Buck. Lottie told me the day you took me across the creek. You’re lucky. At least you know what you are. I’ve no idea what I am. Does that bother you?”
“Good God! ’Course not!” He put his heels to the horse and it moved ahead.
“Well, then?”
For an instant Buck thought about spurring his mount and running away to some remote spot in the hills where he could have this soft, sweet woman all to himself. Years of frustration and pain dropped from
his shoulders. She knew about him and didn’t care! Surely she knew how much he ached to love her!
“River’s coming up fast, Buck,” Lucas shouted from the river bank. “Must have been a hell of a rain up north.”
Laura felt an unexpected thrill as the animal moved under her. She felt its reluctance to enter the river and the muscles in Buck’s thighs bunch as he urged it into the swirling water. The roar of the river increased as they moved out to where it gushed and broke over obscured rocks. Laura sensed the rise of the water and clung for dear life to the solid strength of the man who held her.
“Pull up your skirts so they won’t drag in the water.” Buck’s calm, reassuring voice was close to her ear. “Just hold onto me and you’ll be all right. Dolorido will swim.” The horse slipped and swayed precariously. Buck’s arms tightened around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder. So absorbed was she in her fear that she failed to notice when the horse’s feet left the slippery river bottom. “Don’t be afraid,
querida.
Don’t be afraid, my love.” Had she really heard those words, or was she dreaming them?
An eternity went by while she clung to him. Then she felt a jolt as the horse’s hooves struck solid rock and began the climb up the bank. She could hear shouting and cursing as the men strained to help the mules pull a wagon up from the river.
“Pull, ya blasted jackasses! Pull, ya gol-durned buzzard bait!” the unmistakable disgusted voice of Mustang cursing the mules rang out.
Laura couldn’t suppress a giggle and was rewarded by an answering chuckle from Buck.
“I’ll leave you with Lottie now,” he told her.
Fear for herself was now replaced with fear for Tucker. “Is the river too high for Tucker to cross?”
“She’ll be all right. Lucas’ll see to it. He’ll bring her wagon over. You just stay with Lottie and quit worryin’.” He lifted her down from the sorrel. She clung to his hand.
“Come on, Laura.” Lottie’s hand was on her arm and she reluctantly let go of Buck.
“Lottie, I’m scared for Tucker. What’s happening now?”
“Wal, I ain’t goin’ to tell ya not to be scared. If’n it warn’t fer the ropes, the last wagon would a gone down river. I don’t see Lucas a riskin’ another one. Let’s git in under the trees. It’s been rainin’ pitchforks up north ’n it’s ’bout to do the same here.”
“Where’s Buck?”
“He’s down on the bank a motionin’ to Lucas to stay over thar. I’ll swear to goodness but that Buck’s got gumption. He’s a tellin’ ’im that they’ll have to raft it. Lucas’ll have to stay over thar with Tucker while the men here git to buildin’. Them drovers is a’ready gittin’ out the axes. Wal, that means we git a tarp stretched and a fire goin’. Them men’ll be hungry as hosses when they’s done.”
“Isn’t it getting dark? They can’t cross in the dark.” Laura suddenly felt the terror, the aloneness, of being separated from Tucker.
“’Course they can’t. They’ll raft it come mornin’.”
“But . . . Tucker!”
“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ to happen to ’er. Lucas is thar.” Lottie put her arm across Laura’s shoulders, and a look of unaccustomed gentleness softened her face. “I’ll be a lookin’ after ya till Tucker gits here.”
“Thank you, Lottie.” Laura hugged her briefly in spite of knowing it would embarrass her. “Is it dark yet?”
“Jist ’bout. But I kin still see across. Lucas pulled the wagon back ’n is unhitchin’ it. Now we jist can’t stand here a jawin’. We gotta git the pot a boilin’.”
“What can I do? I know how to peel potatoes.”
“It would help a heap if you was to hold onta the little’n and her ma’ll go huntin’ dry wood. It’ll take a heap of it if they’s goin’ to build that thar raft by the light from the fire.”
“I can do that. I’ll tell her a story.”
Watching from across the river, Tucker saw Laura walk away with Lottie. Searching her soul, she found a feeling of gladness that Laura was enjoying Buck’s attentions. But there was also a certain uneasiness about losing control over Laura’s life, and thus the capacity to protect her from life’s real, or imagined, dangers.
The rumbles of thunder grew louder and more frequent, a continuous muttering that exploded now and then into a crashing boom, and lightning stalked the horizon, leaping high into the sky with dramatic grace. Lucas unhitched, watered, and staked the team out for the night. Somehow Tucker could not make herself move away from the wagon—not while her heart was pounding at the realization that she was alone with Lucas, a roaring river between them and the rest of the train. With her face set and her hands clutching the skirt of her dress, she stood waiting.
He was so close she could have reached out and touched him before she knew he was there. Outlined against the flickering sky he stood tall, broad-shouldered, and hatless. The rising wind ruffled his dark hair, giving him a faintly satanic look. There was a tightly strung alertness about him, something primitive and menacing.
“I suppose you think I arranged this,” was his quiet remark.
His voice and manner sent a wave of irritation over her. “Did you?” she demanded bluntly.
“I didn’t arrange for the river to rise.”
“No, but you arranged for me to be the last to cross.”
“Only because I wanted to be with you and make sure you were safe.” The soft drawl was in direct contrast to his stance and the biting grip of his hand that shot out and gripped her arm.
Tension hovered in the night while her thoughts and emotions raced and collided in wild disorder. Her words came bitingly. “After you saw Cora Lee cross safely.”
“After I saw all the women cross safely,” he corrected.
The lightning flared again, flashing gold sparks into the emerald eyes that stared up at him. It illuminated the pale oval of her face and was caught in her flaming, wind-blown hair.
“Of course,” she said, and her words were almost lost in a deafening roll of thunder. Shielding the anger in her eyes with the dark screen of her lashes, she shook his hand from her arm.
He glanced up at the sky. The rain began, a scattering of drops shaken from the heavy clouds by the rumble of the thunder. “We’d better get under cover if we don’t want to spend the night in wet clothes.”
She stared at him with chilly dismay, unable to find any more words. He was looming over her, looking down into her face, and although he didn’t touch
her she felt his presence up and down the length of her body. She felt suddenly weak and liquid inside.
She climbed up on the wheel and into the wagon, conscious of him following her. In the dim gloom she fumbled for a candle and was about to light it when Lucas took it from her hand.
“We’ll have no light or fire tonight.”
The rain splattered against the canvas with loud plops. It was close inside the wagon, close and warm. Lucas seemed to fill the space that had been more than ample for her and Laura. Alarm shivered along her nerves, and her skin prickled with the chill of the stormy night. The canopy above her quivered in the wind, billowing, making the wood frame creak and moan sadly.
“Why not?” Her low-voiced query hung in the air.
“You know why not. This is wild country, and there’s a river between us and the rest of the train.” His hand was on her arm again, moving up and down in a caressing motion.
She shook it away and moved to the end of the wagon. The canvas end was laced securely against the rain, and she felt more hemmed in than ever. She stiffened in dismay: she could see the outline of him sitting on her trunk, his long legs making it difficult for her to get past him.
“Are you going to stand up all night? Sit down, Tucker.” His voice held a tone of tiredness, resignation, that sounded strange coming from him. “I’ve no intention of spending the night in here with you, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Tucker’s fear receded a fraction, and yet an unpleasant feeling remained in the pit of her stomach. “Where will you go?”
“I’ll be around.”
A match flared briefly in his cupped hands. He held it to the end of the cigarette dangling from his lips, then quickly blew out the flame. The familiar scent of the tobacco smoke reached her nostrils, and she wanted to weep for the wonderful time she had spent with him before she knew about Cora Lee. She moved to pass him, holding her skirts so they wouldn’t brush his legs. She sat down across from him and stared into the darkness. She thought he was staring in her direction, but couldn’t be sure. One thing she was sure of, however, was that he wasn’t behaving like the arrogant, teasing man she had been alone with before.
The rain settled to a gentle patter and the thunder began to subside. The silence seemed to bear down on Tucker until she felt she had to say or do something. She reached behind her for the cloth with the leftover bread and meat she and Laura had had at noon. She put the largest piece of meat between two hunks of corn bread and held it out to him. “Mustang always gives us more than we can eat.” She kept her voice steady only by sheer strength of will.
“You eat it,” Lucas urged.
“There’s more.”
He took it from her, being careful not to touch her fingers. She sat, stiff and self-conscious, wishing she didn’t have to eat the food in her hand but knowing
she must because he was watching her. He finished eating and, while he was rolling and lighting another cigarette, she wrapped what was left of her portion in the cloth and tucked it away behind her.
“Why did you do it? Why did you let me think you felt something for me?” His questions were asked quietly. There was no trace of sarcasm in his voice, only a kind of sadness. She moistened her lips, but he spoke again before she could answer. “Twice now I’ve felt on top of the world after seeing you, only to have you give me the back of your head or look at me like I was some kind of varmint the next time I’ve been near you. I’ve gone through hell these past few days wondering how I could’ve been such a fool to be taken in by your playacting.” Occasional lightning lit the wagon interior as he spoke, revealing his face creased in thought.
At first Tucker was stunned into silence by his words, then anger took over. “I was the one who was fooled!” she spat out scornfully. Her voice shook with rage and unshed tears. “I still don’t understand what stopped you that night. I must have been out of my mind to . . . to . . . let you do what you did!” Now that she was started the words gushed forth. “How do you think I felt after she told me she’d been watching? Cora Lee had been watching and laughing about it, making it dirty. Making me feel like dirt! I made a complete fool of myself over you. I wish to God Laura and I had gone back to Fort Worth with Mrs. Johnson. But you knew we didn’t have anything to go back to. We couldn’t leave if we wanted to! You
thought you’d have a little something extra to play with on the way to California, didn’t you? Well, you’ll just have to get along with Cora Lee, because you won’t have me! And that scout, that friend of yours, Buck Garrett, won’t have Laura, either!” Her anguish demanded release, but her heartache hid itself deep within her, beyond the reach of tears.
The silence that followed was unbearable. A sudden, heavier burst of rain battered the canvas roof over them. Thunder rumbled in the distance and, as though roused by the sound, a coyote howled, another answering.
“Are you waiting for me to tell you Cora Lee lied about watching us?” his voice came to her quietly. “I knew she was watching and that was why I suggested we walk. She’ll not do it again, or she’ll leave the train at Fort Lancaster.”

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