Lori Connelly (9 page)

Lantern in hand, he strode past her to the front of the wagon and retrieved the rifle. He handed it to her then went to check on Sugar. Evie set the weapon on the ground above her head just as he banked the fire. The soft glow from the coals did little to push back the night’s gloom when he extinguished the lantern.

Out of the darkness, Ben crawled in, under the covers, next to her. He rolled on his side, faced her. She could see only form and shadow. Fingers touched her cheek. Her heart beat, loud and furious in her chest.

“Sleep well.”

A moment passed before she could speak, “You too.”

Ben rolled onto his back and after a second, she followed suit. The boughs beneath the pallet cushioned the unforgiving earth mostly but Evie couldn’t relax. Despite the covers, she felt cold, her muscles ached and the darkness troubled her even with her husband close. Anxious and tired, she wished things weren’t so complicated between them.

Crickets sang in the night. Leaves rustled soft with the breeze. She shifted the slightest bit closer to Ben, craved his warmth, wanted him to hold her, be comforted, but didn’t know if she should ask. At one time, he would’ve cradled her against him as a matter of habit but not now, not for a long time.

Things needed to change. Evie clasped her hands together tight, took a deep breath and gathered courage. She turned to Ben, laid a hand on his arm. His ability to fall asleep in the blink of an eye often caused friction between them, especially after an unresolved fight. She’d never understood how he could rest while she tossed and turned. After a minute, she rolled away, on her side, back to him and huddled in the blankets, only her face uncovered. Exhaustion gradually overcame her.

Her clothing tangled and drenched in sweat, Evie jerked out of the dream to sit upright. She twisted and grabbed the rifle to her heaving chest. The substance of the nightmare fled, left an overwhelming sense of fear. In the early morning light, she looked for her husband, needed him. Ice slithered between her shoulder blades. Ben was gone.

Evie stared at his side of the rumpled bed in disbelief. She blinked, rubbed her eyes then looked again. Nothing had changed. Her chest hurt as she crawled out from under the wagon to search.

Tension eased when her gaze swept the campsite. One of the food boxes rested on the ground. Flames licked at twigs in the fire ring. When Evie noted the mare’s absence, her breathing slowed to normal. She brushed her hair off her face.
He’s just watering Sugar.

Lazy white clouds spotted the sky. Dew blanketed the world in dampness. Evie leaned against the wagon, started to relax then a twig snapped to her right. She turned, expected to see Ben and was pleasantly surprised. The fawn’s liquid brown eyes stared at her. She smiled as the tiny deer stumbled back into the trees.

Movements unhurried, Evie reached back under the wagon and pulled out her bag. She left the rifle propped against a wheel and walked over to the fire. A hand pressed to her lower back as she stretched. With a grimace, she sat down on the small rough wood box, an uncomfortable seat but better than the wet ground. She got out her brush and first tamed her neglected, wild mane then weaved it into a tidy French braid.

Ben strode back into camp leading the mare as she slipped the brush back into the bag. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” He started to hitch up Sugar. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you and you?” She stood up, left her bag there and walked over near him.

Ben favored her with a shy smile. “I did too.”

“That’s good,” Evie knelt down, pulled the quilts out from under the wagon, folded them and repacked them. She next picked her dew-dampened clothing off the wheel, hung the items over her arm. “Would you like bacon again for breakfast?”

Ben shook his head as he dragged the pallet out from under the wagon. “How about something simple? I’d like to get going soon.”

“In a hurry?” She poured some water from a canteen into her hands then splashed her face.

“I’d like to reach Challis by nightfall. Mr. Durkin, the stableman, told me we’d reach it in two days.”

“Okay.” Evie stepped over to her bag, stuffed her extra clothing into it then fastened her cloak in place.

With a stick, she stirred up the coals, coaxed them into flame and added more fuel. Evie filled the coffee pot and set it to heat then pulled out the last of the bread. She cut it up, smeared the slices with some honey.

A short time later, they ate and drank in silence and when they finished, Ben emptied the coffee pot over the last flickers of fire, creating a cloud of steam. “That was good, thank you.”

“Hard to burn what you don’t cook.” Evie studied the dying embers while he picked up the box, carried to the wagon.

“Stop worrying about last night. It was fine.”

“It was nasty.”

“Evie.”

“Yes?” She glanced around to see if they had missed anything.

“I think you worry too much.”

His tone, his words weren’t remarkable but sounded pure Ben. She smiled. “You’re starting to remember.”

“Afraid not,” Shadows darkened green eyes.

Evie brushed crumbs off her cloak, “Nothing to be sorry for, you can’t help it.”

“I disappointed you.”

“I just want you to feel better,” Bag in hand she went to his side.

“I am.”

They stood gazes locked for a moment until a cloud moved over the sun. Without another word, Ben turned to knot the rope and Evie moved to the front of the wagon.

The steady clomp of hooves broke the quiet as the sun reappeared. She watched the riders appear in the distance, her bag, the pistol inside, held tight.

“Don’t worry.” Ben strode up behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders.

It’d be some time before the sound of riders didn’t send anxiety racing through her veins. “I’m fine.”

On the road several yards away, four men slowed, called out then passed on by them. Evie tossed her bag up onto the seat and accepted a boost up from her husband. A soft gust of air teased the edge of her cloak as Ben climbed up beside her. He shrugged off his coat, gathered up the reigns and started them forward. The old wagon cricked and groaned as if in protest.

A couple of hours passed in relative quiet, broken only by a few weather observations and an occasional traveler. The sun delivered a welcome warmth. The sky cleared, revealed an expanse of light blue. Trees vanished. The road angled away from the river, and became a ribbon between acres of flat, farmed fields.

“Evie.”

Without shading timber, heat beat down on them. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, “Yes.”

“Umm…”

“What is it?” She removed her cloak, folded it then tucked it under the seat by her bag.

“This is nice and all.”

“What’s wrong?”

His cheeks turned ruddy, “Yesterday was mostly pleasant … ”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“How long are we going to talk of nothing but the weather?”

Evie looked out over freshly ploughed fields. “All right, why don’t you tell me about Oregon?”

“I’ve heard it’s beautiful but that’s not what I-”

“What do your cousins do there?” She bent over, opened her bag, pulled out the old hat.

“They run a ranch, mostly cattle but a couple of the brothers started a small herd of horses. Now I-”

“A large family right?” Longing echoed in her voice. She fastened the bag shut, straightened and put the hat on.

“Yeah six sons but Evie I,” Ben glanced over at her and paused. “Couldn’t find your bonnet?”

“Forgot to look.”

“I can stop, let you look,” He pulled out a cherry red kerchief and dabbed his face.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Ben pocketed his hankie and pulled off the road. They got down and he loosened the rope, folded back the canvas. Over the lowered tailgate, Evie climbed into the bed. In a few minutes, she found her wide brimmed straw bonnet with a broad blue ribbon around the crown and exchanged the old hat for it. After she jumped down, he fastened the tailgate but left the bed uncovered with the pallet propped so it would dry in the sun.

“What’s he doing?” As they started to the front of the wagon together, Ben pointed to her right.

Evie turned to look. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted a man running toward them, he started shouting but was too far away for her to understand the words. “I don’t know.”

As the last word left her lips, she heard the rapid thuds of hooves hitting earth behind them. They both turned and saw a large bull charging them. With a gasp, Evie started to run, caught the hem of her skirt and fell face first. Ben grabbed her arm, yanked her up and lunged forward. At the front of the wagon, he about threw her up onto the seat then followed her up.

Ben put Sugar in motion with a yell and a hard snap of the reigns. They tore out of the field and onto the road. Evie looked over her shoulder. For several yards, the bull gave chase. She watched until finally it gave up.

“That was unexpected.”

She drew in a shaky breath, “Yeah.”

After a few more minutes, their breathing calmed. Evie glanced up, noticed the sun was almost directly overhead. “Do we dare stop for lunch?”

“We’ll just be careful where we park. Are you hungry now?”

“Getting there,” Her stomach growled. Her face heated.

“Well then, I’d better start looking for a cow free spot.”

Evie smiled, “I’d appreciate that.”

A comfortable quiet settled between them. Bright sunshine bathed her in warmth, made her drowsy. She stifled a yawn. Her eyelids started to sag.

“Why didn’t I take my cousin’s offer?”

Startled, she blinked, suddenly wide-awake, “Offer?”

“They offered me a place on their ranch.”

Her sigh soft, floated away on the spring breeze. “You wanted to make it all on your own.”

“I did?”

“That’s what you said.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” He shook his head.

“Why?”

“Taking that offer was part of the plan I made with Henry.”

“I know.”

“What changed?”

Her teeth gnawed her bottom lip. “Life.”

“Evie please,” his voice strained, he glanced at her, the look in his eyes intense. “One night I went out with my good friend and when I woke next I’m here with you five years later, up a creek without a paddle.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” The road curved so that it followed the river again. Ben didn’t say another word until after he pulled off near the slow flowing water. “Explain.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything,” He held her gaze for a long moment, impressed upon her his seriousness then without waiting for a response, turned, got down.

As Ben helped her down, wind blew over the water, caressed her skin, cool, refreshing. He stepped away, pulled off his hat and used it to gather twigs. For a moment, she watched him move around and struggled with what to say.

“I don’t know where to start.”

Ben squatted near her and worked to build a fire. “At the beginning, like how did I get from Missouri to you?”

“I sent Henry a letter, our grandfather wasn’t doing well, asked him to come.” Her gaze wondered from her husband’s bent head to where baby birds chirped from a nest in the lone tree near the riverbank. “He brought you home with him.”

A couple of fish jumped near the shaded bank. Ben stood and faced the river, silent as he watched the rings smooth from the surface. “How’d we first meet?”

“Church dance,” Evie moved over the wagon, which drew his attention. She lowered the tailgate, tugged out a box. “Some of Grandpa’s friends came to visit and he shooed me out of the house. You and Henry arrived after I’d gone. My brother sent you to get me.” She pulled out a number of things, bread, butter, a pan, can and knife. “Instead you danced with me.”

“Love at first sight?”

As she filled the pan with beans, Ben found a nice flat rock, put it next to the flames for her. When Evie joined him at the fire, he noticed an unpleasant odor. He scanned the area around them while she knelt, placed cast iron on stone. The cause eluded him until his wife stood.

Flecks of dried matter dotted the side of her face. Ben grimaced. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? His eyes watered when Evie stepped closer. Lord help him, she smelled.

“Close,” She smiled but it faded quickly. “You showered me with attention. I couldn’t think straight.”

“Charmed you, did I?”

How do I tell her?
Now that he had her talking, Ben didn’t want to stop the flow of information. He wiped sweaty palms on his pants. His glance swept down, stopped on the dark stains on the side of her skirt. A sinking feeling in his gut warned him that he needed to handle this gently. His wife had been a tad prickly.

“Yes you did.”

“Um …  I ah think you may have some stuff on your skirt.”

“Likely dirt,” Evie didn’t even look, “from when I fell.”

While he tried to think of another approach, Ben carried on with their conversation. “What about Henry? Did he approve?”

“He loved that you’d be family. You guys had grand plans.”

“So what happened, why’d he leave?” The smell seemed to grow by the minute. “Hold that thought.” Ben went to the wagon and grabbed soap and a cloth. “Be right back.” A few quick strides brought him to the riverbank. He washed his hands and face then slowly trudged back to his wife. “That felt good.” He smiled, hopeful she’d take the hint but Evie simply nodded. “Continue.”

“After a while, Grandpa seemed better and Henry’s feet started to itch. We argued. He thought Grandpa was fine, a tough old man. I disagreed.”

“Did that cause problems between you and me?” Ben pulled in a deep breath, exhaled slow and seriously considered holding his tongue.

Evie frowned as she stirred the bubbling beans. “You tried not to take sides but felt torn between us.”

“And you won.”

“We compromised. You and I were to stay with Grandpa a few more months while Henry went to California. He was supposed to let us know where he settled so we could join him.”

“Sounds reasonable, what went wrong?” Ben put space between them by going to the wagon to get a towel and a couple mugs.

“Grandpa died.”

The absence of emotion in her voice stirred him as deeply as if she’d cried. Ben left the mugs on the tailgate, went to her side and took her hand. “I’m sorry. He was the only family you and Henry had left wasn’t he?”

“Yes he was but,” She squeezed his hand then eased free, as she always did. It bothered Ben but he didn’t object. “It was a long time ago.”

He bent over, wrapped the towel around the pan’s handle and carried it to the wagon. “So why aren’t we with Henry?”

“We never heard from him.” Evie brushed against him as she reached into the box for plates and forks.

Without making it obvious, Ben inched to one side, amazed she hadn’t noticed the smell. “Was that it? Why didn’t we go to California anyway, look for him?”

Evie took out a canteen, moved to one side and she washed her hands. “I don’t know exactly. For months we talked about what we’d do when we got his letter then one day I noticed we didn’t anymore.”

“We gave up.”

“I inherited Grandpa’s farm. You tried to make that work.”

“And I failed?” “There’d been a drought for a couple years.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “We couldn’t hold on. We packed a few special things into this wagon, sold everything we could and headed out to the land of opportunity.”

“Montana?”

“Kansas,” Evie took the towel, headed back to the fire.

“Kansas?”

“Kansas.”

“Evie …  ” Words refused to come.

“Yes Ben.”

“I … ” His gaze dropped to the ground. “I think-”

“You think what?” She reached down for the coffee pot.

After a heartbeat, he blurted out. “You need to wash.”

“What?”

“Well you … ”

“I what?”

“You smell.”

The pot fell from her slack grip onto the fire. Hot liquid splattered, extinguished the flames. Ben grabbed Evie, yanked her out of harm’s way.

“Are you all right?”

Mouth agape, she broke free, glared at him, “No.”

“Were you burned?” His gaze swept the length of her.

“No.”

“Then you’re not hurt?”

“Physically no,” anger bled through the tight weave of her restraint as she stomped over to the wagon. Evie grabbed her bag, a towel and the soap. “I’m fine, obviously I just need a bath.”

“I didn’t mean …  I think you just need to change, maybe a quick wash. When we get to Challis, you can have a proper bath there.”

“I’ll bathe
proper
right now. So I don’t offend you with my stench.”

Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “Now Evie, I didn’t mean it like you’re taking it. You need to calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do.” Her hands fisted. Hot emotion strained for release, her whole body shook. One hand pushed against his chest hard, forced him away with strength.

Ben stumbled back. “Evie I-”

“Don’t say another word.”

“Listen I’m-”

“You’re what, sorry?” Evie lifted her chin. Her bitter tone, sharp and raw, sliced the air. “You’re always sorry and it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

“What in the-”

“I’m going down to the river. Do not follow me.”

“Hey.”

Evie ignored her husband, slapped his hand away as he reached out to her and stomped down to the water’s edge. She dropped her things on the grass, flopped down and worked off her boots. How dare he?
She rolled off her stockings, flung them to one side then stood. Rude, insulting man. With rough, angry motions, she peeled off her dress and let it fall to the ground.

Cool air flowed through her thin undergarments and over bare skin. Goosebumps soon dotted her flesh. Chilled, Evie nevertheless stepped into the river. The freezing contact stole her breath and quickly started to cool her temper.

Mud squished between her toes and the clear water turned mucky as she snatched the bonnet off her head. With a sharp exhale, she tossed it up beside her bag then grabbed the soap. Evie eased deeper, inch by inch, until she stood wet to mid thigh. Her teeth chattered as she swiftly washed.

Before she could think twice about it, Evie submerged then came up gasping. She sloshed back to land numb to the point of pain. The gusting wind triggered violent shivers. As soon as she reached the rocky bank, she dropped the soap and snatched up the towel.

After Evie dried off, wrung out her clinging small clothes as best she could without removing them, she still shook non-stop. The harsh call of a raven drew her gaze as she dug in the bag for her other clothes. She stared at the bird perched on a branch of the only tree they’d seen for miles. Embarrassment dawned on her suddenly and she froze. Nothing shielded her from curious eyes.

Her gaze scanned the surrounding area without moving a muscle. Aside from several small birds scattered over a nearby field, she found no sign of life. Relief lasted seconds then died. Someone could show up any minute. Evie grabbed the dress she’d shed moments before and with haste pulled it on.

A horrid smell filled her nostrils. Evie looked at her hands. Nasty brown mud streaked both palms. She looked for the source, found the ugly stain on her clothes.
That’s what he was trying to tell me.

Tears flooded her eyes. Shame burned through her as she picked the soap back up, returned to the water.
He must think I’m crazy.
Evie scrubbed her skirt, skin, and hair, everything, until certain she was clean. Drained, she sloshed onto the bank.

“Are you okay?” Ben shouted from where she’d left him.

Soap fell from pale fingers. “I’m fine.”

“I made you a sandwich.”

With the damp towel clutched against her chest, she swept up her things. “I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

As Evie walked back, slowed by her bare feet, she tried to think of ways to apologize for her behavior. The breeze swung a clump of dripping hair over her eyes. Hands full, she flipped it back with a shake of her head. Distracted, she tripped and almost fell.

“You all right?” Ben called, his tone laced with worry.

“I’m fine.”

“Feel better?”

“A little.”

Ben had built the fire back up while she was gone. She put her things down and held her hands out, grateful beyond words for the warmth. Though her cheeks burned with embarrassment, Evie resisted the urge to look at the ground. Her gaze met Ben’s square.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. There’s no excuse. I don’t know what came over me but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Okay,” His smile, broad and sincere, reached his eyes and warmed her heart.

With her head tilted to one side, she twisted her hair and wrung out water. She picked up the towel, dried the mass as best she could. Strands fell over her face. Evie pushed them off with a self-deprecating chuckle.