The Traherns #1 (7 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Next morning I woke to find him
beside me, sound asleep on that big feather mattress. Now feathers are cozy and
warm and you can dig yourself a hole and they'll come right over the top and
close you in. A body can sleep warm on the coldest of night with just your nose
peeking out or not. But feathers are not much given to getting folks together
and I couldn't even tell he was there until I looked.

The camp was stirring so I dressed
quick and took the mules and Comfort out to graze. This was man's work and I'd
let my man do it once he was able to go longer between rests, but I figured he
needed the sleep.

As it was, two hours later when I
came back and hitched up and looked around, he had those fish fried and the
coffee hot and he'd done one other thing.

He'd shaved. At last I could see
what had been under all that black beard and my first thought was why he hadn't
left it on.

I tell you he was the homeliest
man I'd ever laid eyes on. Now I like mules better'n most horses and its not
because of their looks, but I'd never seen the back end of a mule as ugly as
this man. Of course he was still all gaunt and thin and sickly from the
treatment the Indians had given him, but he'd never win any beauty prizes. Pa
always warned me to judge a man by his character and not by his looks, but this
man's character had better be considerable.

He had a square jaw, long face,
high cheekbones and deep set eyes. His eyes greeted me, steady gray eyes that
took in a lot of territory. "Eat up," he said, offering me a couple
of fish and we dug in.

That fish was the best I'd ever
tasted. He could cook, but most western men could do some basic cooking, it was
cook or starve. His fire was small, big enough to do the job but small enough
to cover with your hat. I made note of it, realizing that the rest of us made
our fires too big and wasted fuel.

A body doesn't think of going easy
on the fuel until he lives in a land where there ain't none. Around here you
burned grass and buffalo chips and little bits of twigs and brush. It would be
a crime to cut down the trees; there weren't enough of them and those few were
needed for shade. Also the fire was easier to put out when we were ready to
roll.

We pulled out first in line that
morning and for the first time in days I wasn't eating dust. We left the Little
Blue and headed northwest for the Platte, figuring to make Fort Kearney before
the week was up.

It was mighty nice, sitting there
beside him on the wagon seat with nothing afore us except those mules. We sat
there quiet for awhile, just enjoying the morning, then we commenced to
talking. We hadn't done much to get acquainted, we'd either been working or
sleeping. To really talk, serious like, a body needs some time.

I asked him about these western
plains for he looked like someone who knew how to survive out here and he did.
He knew the plants and animals, the weather and the Indian tribes; how to
survive a blizzard and what rivers could be counted on to have water. I wasn't
going to get it all in one day, but if I could get him to talking a little
every day, I'd sure get me an education. One that might keep me alive.

One thing, I wasn't going to have
to worry none about food with that man around. He pointed out plants that were
edible as we drove by them, things the Indians gathered and ate. They were few
and far between, but they were there.

"Tomorrow morning I'll hunt
us some fresh meat," he said.

"Sounds good. Uncle Dem
wasn't much on hunting and we had to make do on what we could trade from the
others."

"If it weren't for the
Indians, you could've hunted; you're a good shot." Surprised, I looked my
question at him and he added, "Web told me. Bragged on you. He also said
I'd better marry you 'fore someone else beat me to it."

"He did, did he?"

"Figured you were in a
corner, but beat down tired, or you'd have put a gun to Hayes and told him to
mind his own business."

His eyes had a twinkle in them and
there was a lightening of the lines around his mouth. I smiled too. Web had
figured it right. Already I was resenting what Hayes had done.

"Now the way I see it, you
and I got married to keep them wolves away from your door. I never took kindly
to shotgun weddings; a woman and man had better think well of one another
before they try pulling in double harness. So I'll just keep them away until we
reach a settlement and you decide what it is you want."

A body couldn't ask for a fairer
deal than that. "And if I decide at that time I don't want to be
married?"

"Then I'll set you free,
Ma'am, and no harm done you."

He was a gentleman, more than any
on that train, for he could have claimed a husband's rights if he wished and I
would not have denied him. Resented him, maybe, but not denied him.

I had no love for this tall
rawboned man, but my respect for him grew mightily right then. How glad I was
I'd taken Web's advice and not gotten myself hitched to one of those others.

Now I'm not one to be contrary,
but what he said just made me want to hang onto him harder. Although, if he
wished to be shut of me, I wouldn't hold him neither, and I said so.

He just nodded, thoughtful like,
and five minutes later, after my mind had already passed on to other things, he
said, "I never meant that. I'll stay in double harness, long as you can
put up with me. I reckon you're more woman than it'll ever be my fortune to
find. I know what I look like and I'm no great talker. The ladies don't pay me
no attention. Neither would you, 'cept for this fix you're in."

"Maybe so," I said and
left it at that. The thought of that shared bed had made me nervous as a
green-broke filly and his statement eased my mind somewhat. This would give me
time to get to know him. We drove along in comfort, each to his own musing
until I finally asked, "Where you from?"

"West Virginia, by way of
Texas. I went down the Ohio when I was fourteen and been seeing country ever
since. There's a spot of country out here to see. I've been to Mexico and
California, came back to fight in the war but it was almost over."

"Where were you headed when
the Indians got you?"

"Wyoming. Or Colorado.
Towards the mountains."

The mountains sounded good to me.
Having left my rolling Tennessee hills almost a month ago, the thought of any
mountains appealed mightily.

This flat land lying unbroken for
miles except for gullies and low mounds was fine if you liked that sort of
thing. I preferred my land standing up, rising in front of me or sweeping away
from under me.

 After a few miles Trahern
spoke again. "I thought I'd find some land, bring in some cattle and prove
up. The Sweetwater sounded good. I was going to look at it, then drift south
till I found a spot. What're your plans?"

For the first time since Uncle Dem
had died I stopped long enough to realize I didn't have any. It made me laugh
at myself. Here I'd been intent on getting to Oregon when there was no reason
to go. None at all.

So I explained it to Trahern, how
first my folks had died and sent me to my uncle and aunt's; then after they
died too, I had kept on with the wagon train because I was already pointed that
direction. It's easy to keep on drifting, for in that way no decisions need to
be made. So I made my first one.

"I was traveling with Uncle
Dem. Now I'll go with you, wherever; unless you don't wish me to."

He was silent for a long time,
turning that statement around in his mind. I could see that it pleased him for
he was nodding slightly; a quiet man and one who thought things over. “Web was
tellin’ me ‘bout a place near Shoshone country. There’s a town and a fort down
the river. Walla Walla. Excellent ranching country.”

"Do you have a stake?" I
asked. Some men travel and never own more than what they are wearing on their
backs, while others slowly build until they have something to show for their
life. And some men, like my Pa, finally settle on land that is beautiful; a delight
to the soul and the eye but not to the belly.

"Yes. I brought a herd up the
Chisholm Trail and sold them at Abilene."

"But didn't the Indians take
what you had?"

His face darkened. Maybe I
shouldn't be asking so many questions. "No. I banked my money in Abilene
‘fore I headed west."

So he was a careful man, looking
to the future. He was also a muscular man with large hands and broad shoulders;
he could probably split firewood with one blow. He wasn't a chewin' man or one
to smoke, for he'd refused Uncle Dem's tobacco when I offered it to him.

My mules liked him and I was
beginning to, too.

Later that day I took the hat and
scarf from my head and tried to comb my hair. It'd been left uncombed too long
and was like trying to curry out a horse's tail full of cockleburs. I was still
too tired to struggle with it and was ready to get out the scissors when
Trahern noticed my efforts and called me up front with him.

"Bring your comb," he
said, so I did, figuring he wanted me to watch the mules while he rode off. He
handed me the reins, but instead of leaving, took my comb and climbed over
behind me and started untangling my mop. I hadn't had anyone do for me since I
was in pigtails and it felt awfully good.

"I was about ready to cut it
off," I declared. "It's been nothing but a nuisance on this
trip."

"Don't you dare," he
said as he patiently worked out the tangles. "If need be, I'll comb it
every day until we get settled."

"Web figured it attracts the
Indians."

"Web's probably right, but
even if you cut it short, they would spot the color."

He worked at it till he got it to
flow nicely, then braided it into one long braid so as it'd stay nice. I hadn't
worn it braided for several years, but out on the trail it made sense and I
thanked him.

We rode on in silence for awhile,
then I got out to gather fuel. Being in the lead wagon, I found some, but even
then it was scattered widely. I wondered at the trains following us. How much
were they finding?

A big jackrabbit jumped out from
under my feet and bounded ahead of us and Trahern dropped it with a shot from
Uncle Dem's pistol. It was a head shot so the meat was undamaged and I tossed
it up to him.

That night I helped him dress his
wounds again. They were healing swiftly, the two bullet holes causing the most grief,
although they were older than the other wounds. It looked like he'd been shot
before the Indians got him. I asked him.

"Three men. They robbed me a
week earlier, left me for dead."

"You know them?"

"No, but if I ever see them
again, I'll recognize ‘em." His voice was deadly quiet, his statement
simple fact.

I wouldn't want to be any of those
men, for three against one are no odds at all when the one is a skilled hunter.

Next day he brought back an
antelope, killed with a single neck shot. We shared it with Axel's family and
also with Kate Madison, now heavy with child.

It really made a difference being
married. For one, the young men left me strictly alone. No more courting calls
or offers of moonlight walks. Marriage, for me, brought freedom.

I took me a lay down every
afternoon while we were going to Fort Kearney and soon regained my strength.

We arrived at Fort Kearney, glad
to be with other people for awhile. There were several wagons there, folks that
had stayed behind from other trains for one reason or another. Some needed to
re-equip, some to rest up; some just couldn't get along with the group they
were traveling with, so pulled up and waited for another train to come through.

Trahern had been here before, but
that had been five years ago and the seventeen-year-old fort had grown since
he'd been through. He knew some of the soldiers and went to renew friendships
and also to inquire about the trail ahead.

I looked around inside the wagon
for things to trade. There were a few things of Aunt Edith's I never figured to
use. I gathered these along with some of her jewelry and took them over to the
small store to try to buy supplies; mainly more flour and sugar.

The store was dark, and it was
hard to see what I was getting. I made the storekeeper bring the flour out into
the late afternoon light so as I could see it wasn't weevily. It looked good so
I traded for a barrel, then looked for a hairbrush.

The rest of my things I traded for
ammunition and a pistol, a twelve shot repeating pistol. It was lighter than my
old one and in good condition. When trouble came out here, it seemed to come
all at once. It made sense not to have to reload while an Indian was fixing to
scalp me.

I bloused up my waist and stuck
the pistol inside, loaded and ready, the hammer resting on an empty chamber. It
took two trips for me to get the ammunition to the wagon and put away.

Then I looked around for Trahern.
He was nowhere in sight, but it didn't worry me none until one of his soldier
friends stopped and asked. Seems he couldn't find him anywhere.