Sarah's Heart (13 page)

 
Wolf pointed to the creek bank, at the dented
coffee pot overflowing with dark-colored berries.

 
“Those look wonderful. Where did you find
them?” Her mouth watered.

He gestured in the
direction he’d come. “A big ol’ bush, chock full, not far beyond the tree,
distracted me from…”

The silence proved
awkward, although his meaning was clear. Her term of choice was morning
toilette, but that sounded far too ladylike for him. She rose and inspected the
appealing bounty, extracting the plumpest berry and plopping it into her mouth.
Juice trickled down her chin and she wiped it away, smacking her lips with
exaggeration. “Ah, that was delicious. I believe I’ll enjoy breakfast even more
than I did dinner.”

Sarah grabbed the
pot, plopped near the fire and enjoyed another of her fruity surprise. “Join
me? The heat feels good right now, but we both know that by midday we’ll be
looking for shade.”

He walked to his
grazing mare and patted her neck. “It’s already too warm to my liking.”

 
“Well you know what they say about the
prairie. If you don’t like the weather, wait a few minutes and it’ll change.”

 
She smiled and Wolf crinkled his brow.

“What’s wrong?”

He chuckled and
tapped his mouth.

She held up open
palms in confusion.

“Berry juice has blackened your teeth.”

Embarrassment rather
than the fire warmed her cheeks, and she covered her mouth, trying to lick the
discoloration away behind her hand.

Wolf bent and popped
two berries between his lips, grinding them until the juice darkened his own
sparkling white smile. “They don’t call them blackberries for nothing.”

Sarah dropped her
hand and laughed, wondering if this man even had a mean-spirited side. So far,
she’d seen nothing but a kind, compassionate being that went out of his way to
make her feel comfortable no matter the situation. How could anyone dislike
such a wonderful person, despite who bore him? His sweetness rivaled the juice
awash in her mouth. No longer concerned about appearances, she gobbled down her
breakfast and helped break camp.

Canteens filled and
supplies stashed for traveling, Sarah and Wolf started the next leg of their
journey. Already the summer sun brought a sticky heat that stuck Sarah’s shirt
to her skin. She wore the wagon master’s hat low on her forehead, hoping to
keep her nose from turning brown. Her childhood freckles had faded with age,
and she wanted to keep it that way.

She insisted her leg
was healed enough to share riding time, but Wolf remained adamant she take the
first turn. He walked alongside Scout, the lead rope hanging loose in his hand.

 
“So tell me, Sarah…why isn’t a handsome woman
like you married?” His voice broke the tedious plodding of the horse’s hooves.

Wolf’s question took
her by surprise, stirring old hurt. She adjusted herself against Scout’s
prickly horsehair, trying to find the right words.

“Was that too
personal?” he asked.

“No,” her voice
trembled slightly, “the question just brought back another unpleasant memory.”
She licked dry lips. “My parents betrothed me when I was nineteen, but my beau
was killed before we could wed.”

 
Tears welled despite the years passed.

“I’m sorry I asked.
I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No apology
necessary. His death was an unforeseen tragedy. Austin was an experienced horseman and had
just finished breaking a beautiful black stallion. He took the animal for a
morning ride, and I suppose enjoyed a brisk run when….” Her voice cracked and
she swallowed. “When he didn’t return home for a time, his father searched and
found him. The horse was down, its leg broken, and Austin de…dead.”

Wolf’s brow creased.
“Even skilled riders fall victim to the perils of the land.”

She gazed down
through blurred eyes, amazed by his flair to always say the right thing. His
eyes displayed kindness she doubted he’d ever known.

 
She raised her gaze. “Thank you for not
minimizing Austin’s
abilities. It was hard enough to lose the man I cherished, but then to hear
some say he died because he was careless only added to my pain. He died doing
what he loved, but it was still a useless waste of a good person…and animal.”

“Would you like to
stop for a while?” Wolf changed the topic, pointing to a lone sycamore, its
branches wide and full.

“I’d like that. I
doubt I’ll ever be fond of riding.”

Wolf led Scout to
the welcome shade and helped Sarah dismount. Sliding into his arms, she inhaled
his musky scent. Her heart fluttered. As soon as her feet touched the ground,
she backed away, running nervous hands over pants that didn’t require smoothing.
“I’d really like a drink of water.”

Uncrossing a strap
from his chest, he pulled one of two casks over his head and handed it to her.
As she unscrewed the lid, his gaze remained on her, increasing the heat in her
cheeks. Gold flecks in his hazel eyes created a sparkle that further added to
her discomfort
..

 
After three long draws on the canteen, she
passed it to him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thank you. I
needed that.”

With hands stretched
high overhead, she bent from side to side, easing the kinks in her body and
scanning the area for a place to relieve
herself
.

“Would you like some
privacy?”

Uncanny, how he
always sensed her needs.

She nodded.

“We’ll just mosey
over there a little ways and you can use the tree.” He led Scout back toward
the trail.

Sarah hastened
around the thick trunk, lowered her pants and dropped into a squat. The
splatting of urine against the ground echoed in the dead silence, and she
tightened her jaw at being embarrassed at something so natural.

 
“Do you think we’ll meet anyone on the trail?”
she called out to cover the sound.

“It’s not likely
we’ll meet another wagon train, but we could encounter a traveler or two.”
Distance dimmed his voice, making her feel better.

She rounded the
tree, feeling refreshed and ready to go. The sooner they got to Independence, the better;
she had a life to plan. Although not knowing what a new city held in store for her, she was
certain whatever she did wouldn’t include horseback riding.

“My turn,” he
called, dropping Scout’s rope and darting behind the tree.

Sarah repaid the
courtesy and ventured to where Scout grazed, and beneath the animal’s wide-eyed
stare, she stroked its muzzle. “I’m sure glad you can’t talk. You could get me
into a whole lot of trouble.”

“Did you say something?”
Wolf’s voice caught her off guard.

“Ah… no, I’m just
chatting with Scout.” She forced a smile, her stomach clenching at her
carelessness. If only she could just tell him and put her mind to rest. But she
couldn’t risk angering him. Besides, how did you drop that kind of news on
someone?

Wolf hefted Sarah
onto the horse’s back, spun the canteens over his shoulder and mounted behind
her. With only a gentle nudge in Scout’s side, the mare moved forward.

Sarah flinched at
having a man’s body pressed so close, but riding double she had no choice. It
was sweet torture, suffering the reality of his nearness while feeling guilty
for enjoying it.

“We should reach the
cutoff for St. Mary’s in a few days.” His words sent warm breath washing over
her neck, totally distracting her. Although unable to see his face, she
pictured those captivating eyes.

 
“Did you hear me?” He tapped her shoulder.

She glanced back at
him.
“Oh…sorry.
Yes, is that a town? I don’t recall
passing through it.”

“It’s more of a
settlement spread out around a mission, but wagon trains have made it a regular
stopping place to give their animals a rest. There’s a Potawatomi village and
trading post not far from there.”

The thought of
encountering more Indians caused tension to knot her stomach. “Can’t we just
stop at the mission and bypass the village?”

“Don’t fret. The
tribe is friendly. You only have to worry about the marauding ones.”

She took in a long
breath. “I’m not sure how to tell the difference, and I certainly don’t
understand the need for violence.”

Without halting the
mare, Wolf slid to the ground and walked alongside. “I’m not making excuses for
what happened to the wagon train, but I know firsthand what it’s like to have
your life, family and everything you own threatened or taken away. Not long
ago, the land for as far as you can see belonged to the Indian people. They
followed the buffalo for food and wasted nothing of the remains. The white
man’s useless killing of the animal has thinned the herds and made life
difficult for the red men. And their land…the government has robbed them of
their sacred ground, scattering the tribes like seeds in the wind.”

She detected sadness
in his voice. “I didn’t know. I guess I’ve led a fairly sheltered life as far
as knowing what went on outside my own little corner of the world. It must be
hard when you have connections to both sides.”

“You have no idea.”
He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Like I said, I’m trying to find out where I
fit in life.”

“Why don’t you let
me walk and you ride?”

He shook his head.
“I feel like walking for a bit. I promise I’ll take a turn later.”

“So,” she changed
the subject. “Tell me more about your friend in Independence. What’s she like? Do you think
she’ll mind having me stay with her? I don’t have much money. How will I pay
for room and board? Buying the wagon and team for my trip took most of the cash
I had left.”

“Whoa,
one question at a time.”
He smiled up at her. “Maggie Smith is my friend’s name, and I’m sure you’ll get
along just fine. She’s probably mid-fifties, more on the plump than thin side,
gray hair and a smile that rivals the sun. She’s a…what do you call that
special type of angel?”

“Guardian?”

“That’s it. She’s a
guardian angel who tries to help wherever she can. But let me warn you, she’s a
force to be reckoned with if you get her dander up.”

“How would you know
that?”

“When she first
helped me, she suffered the wrath of the townsfolk for aiding a heathen, but
she soon put them in their place. Now they mind their own business and stay out
of hers.”

He’d barely chuckled
when he held up his hand and halted Scout. Standing perfectly still, Wolf’s
shoulders ridged with tenseness, his eyes narrowed. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Sarah
tilted her head and strained to listen.

 
“Hoof beats. Rider’s comin’. We have to find a
place to hide.”

Sarah scanned the trail ahead but saw
nothing. The wariness in his tone frightened her. All she heard was her own
heartbeat.

“Look!” Wolf pointed
to a cluster of huge boulders rising trailside.

The rocks provided a
place to hide, but Sarah still heard nothing and silently questioned Wolf’s
suspicions. Not even a hint of dust rose on the horizon.

 
Wolf grabbed the horse’s lead rope and headed
the animal off the trail toward the stony fortress. Sarah twined her hands in
the mare’s mane as tall prickly grass brushed her ankles and scratched her
skin.

Wolf halted Scout
behind the rocks and helped Sarah to the ground. With a hand over the mare’s
muzzle, he crouched next to her forelegs and motioned for Sarah to hunker down
with him. He held a silencing finger to his lips, and she obeyed.

Sarah listened
intently, but heard nothing but an occasional bird call. Within moments, the
ground beneath her rumbled, and she heard voices growing closer. Following
Wolf’s lead, she stayed low and peered through a small opening in the rocks,
her heart hammering. A large group of Indians galloped past, their lances held
high,
their
faces smeared with paint. Reminded of the
brightly decorated one in her nightmares, she shivered and pulled back, leaning
against the stone backrest and hugging her knees to her chest. Her stomach
churned and her palms dampened. Never again would she doubt Wolf when he said
he heard something. He had the keen senses of the animal for which he was named.

The earth stilled
and the voices faded. Sarah remained too afraid to move. Wolf stood and patted
Scout’s neck. “Good girl.”

 
He looked to Sarah. “I feared Scout might
nicker or neigh at the other horses and give us away, but she did just like I
trained her.”

Sarah’s knees felt
weak and she used the boulder to inch up into a standing position. She tried to
appear composed. “I guess I have a lot to learn about horses. I can’t tell one
sound from another.”