Ana Seymour (10 page)

He watched her pick her way lightly along the bank in her short trousers with her short black hair, a nimble, lovely creature as spirited as the fabled leprechauns of her homeland.

Yes, he thought to himself grimly, Fort Kearney could not come soon enough.

T
he Overland Trail had transformed Fort Kearney from an isolated wilderness outpost into a bustling metropolis. Enterprising entrepreneurs had set up businesses to cater to literally thousands of wagons passing through the fort each season. The companies charged exorbitant prices on goods that the travelers could have purchased for next to nothing back East, if they had only known how badly they would be needed.

Axle grease was selling for two dollars a bucket and salted dried beef for five dollars a box. The travelers from the Hunter train were enthusiastic about this temporary return to at least a semblance of the civilized world of commerce. From wagon to wagon they exchanged information about exactly what each outfit was going to buy and what was the best strategy for getting the lowest price.

Kerry and Patrick listened to their new friends’ plans in silence. If Jeb Hunter had his way, Fort Kearney would be the end of the trail for them. In fact, he had suggested that they might want to sell their rig
and head back to St. Louis by horseback, carrying the belongings they wanted to keep on packmules. It would get them home much more quickly, he’d explained to a stony-faced Kerry the night before they arrived at the fort.

She hadn’t bothered to point out once again that the East would never be “home” to her. She and Patrick didn’t have a home—they were on their way to make one for themselves. Since the day when she’d been wading in the river, she’d avoided the captain. The look in his eyes had set off odd flutters inside her stomach, making her distinctly uncomfortable. It hadn’t been hard to stay out of his way. In fact, it almost seemed as if he were avoiding her company, too.

But she knew that once they reached the fort she’d have to face him again. She had to somehow convince him to let her stay with the train, and she’d spent hours lying awake at night trying to decide how she would go about it Dorothy’s suggestion of trying to be friendly had definitely not worked. She had the feeling that Jeb Hunter was not a very friendly kind of person.

So she’d taken out the papers her father had signed when he’d joined the train and pored over them, looking for something that would legally force the captain to allow her to continue. But, as the lawyers had told her back in St. Louis, it was quite clear that the wagon train captain had almost total authority to decide who went on his train and what they could and could not do while they were on it.

Captain Hunter had announced that they would take a four-day break at the fort, plenty of time for
wagon repairs, restocking, rest from the endless rolling motion of the wagons and the miles of walking through the tall grass.

Time enough for a party, Frank and Eulalie Todd had declared. And it was decided that the members of the train would gather for supper and dancing their second night off the trail. They set up two long tables in front of the sutler’s store for the victuals and recruited Charles Kirby’s father, Henry, and one of the soldiers at the fort to provide fiddling music for the dancing.

Patrick, who had been off with Charles and two other boys exploring the fort all day, was already dancing with excitement about the occasion. “A real dance, sis!” he exclaimed, jumping down from the back of the wagon where he’d disappeared to change his shirt. “I’ve never been to a dance before.”

Kerry was sitting by the small campfire. She was still wearing her trousers and the same heavy linen shirt she’d worn on the trail. Patrick’s grin faded as he looked over at her. “Have you?” he asked.

“Have I what?”

“Been to a dance.”

Kerry frowned. Her mind was on the upcoming confrontation with Jeb Hunter. She’d paid little attention to talk of a dance. “No, I guess not.”

“Well, come on, then. It’s almost time to start.”

Polly and Molly came racing up to the wagon, equally excited and even more exuberant than Patrick. Their usually flyaway hair was slicked back and tied with big bows—blue for Polly and red for Molly. Kerry no longer had any trouble telling the two apart.
Polly’s eyes held more of a devilish glint, and Molly’s face was a bit thinner than her sister’s.

“Yeah, c’mon, Kerry. The dancing’s about to start,” Polly urged.

“You girls look pretty tonight,” Patrick said gallantly, causing Molly’s face to turn as red as her bow.

“Aren’t you going to dress up, Kerry?” Molly asked.

Patrick looked at his sister in sudden surprise. “She’s right, sis. You should be dressed up, too. You can’t very well dance in my pants.”

“I can’t dance anyway,” Kerry answered dryly.

“We’ll teach you, Kerry,” Polly offered.

“Or Mama will,” Molly chimed in. “She teaches us.”

Kerry smiled at the two enthusiastic youngsters. They didn’t know how lucky they were to have a loving mother like Dorothy to teach them to dance and tie up their hair in pretty ribbons. Kerry had never had such things, but, then, she hadn’t really known what she was missing. And by now it didn’t matter anymore. She could do just fine without dancing and hair bows. “You kids go on ahead to the supper. Perhaps I’ll be along later.”

“Perhaps? You’ve got to come, Kerry,” Patrick said with a worried look on his face.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “I will. You escort these lovely ladies here and go have fun.”

The twins giggled and Patrick played his role by making an exaggerated bow and offering an arm to each one. Then they broke the pose and scampered off toward the fort quadrangle. Kerry smiled as she watched them go, then gave a sigh.

“They’re right, you know.” Dorothy came walking toward her. “You should dress up for the dance.”

“I don’t know if I’m going.”

The petite blonde gave a snort. “Nonsense. Of course you’re going. Scott should take you. Where’s he gotten himself off to?” She looked over at the prospector’s wagon.

Kerry shrugged. “I haven’t seen him all afternoon. He said he’d found some men at the fort who’d been out to the gold fields. He wanted to get some advice.”

“Well, you’ll go to the dance with John and me, then, because you
are
going.”

Kerry stood up. “Honestly, Dorothy, I don’t know how to dance, and I’m not much in the mood…”

But her friend had turned away to climb up into Kerry’s wagon and had begun to open boxes. “You must have some clothes in here somewhere. Come help me find them, Kerry.”

Kerry threw her hands up in the air. “I have no idea…”

Before she could finish the sentence, Dorothy turned around in triumph, holding up a green dimity dress, the one item Kerry had taken special care to pack. Her father had once told her that her eyes sparkled as bright as the Emerald Isle itself when she was wearing that dress. She could still see the twinkle in his own identical blue eyes when he’d said it.

“I was saving that dress to wear in California,” she said wistfully.

Dorothy’s expression became stern. She threw the dress carelessly over her arm and faced Kerry with her hands on her hips. “Which is where you’ll never
get to if you don’t start making some effort to stay on this train.”

Dorothy looked exactly like she did when she was cross with her daughters. Kerry had a sudden urge to laugh, which made her mood lift several notches. “What do you mean, effort?”

“
Effort,
woman. Come out and talk to people. Make a show. Get some people on your side. Talk to that loutish captain of ours and make him understand that you’ll not meekly let him throw you off.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk with me. Maybe no one else does either after the problems we caused.”

“Horsefeathers. Everybody’s fond of you and Patrick. You’d have lots of support if you just got out and looked for it. And as for Captain Hunter, I think he’s more interested in talking to you than you think.”

Kerry walked over to Dorothy and took the green dress from her arm. It
would
feel good to put a dress on again, to feel soft fabric against her skin instead of Patrick’s rough trousers. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s a
man,
isn’t he? It’s like I told you the other day, Kerry. You’re a lovely young woman.”

Kerry had a sudden memory of the night by the riverbank. “I don’t think Jeb Hunter is interested in things like that At least, not with regard to me.”

Dorothy took a step back and studied her friend with disbelief. “Kerry Gallivan, didn’t any boys ever court you back in New York City?”

“I was usually too busy…”

“Well, now you see. There’s your problem. It’s all a matter of experience. Self-confidence. A little bit of
feminine intuition.” She took the dress from Kerry again and held it up to her, cocking her head and squinting to picture how it would look on her. Then she handed it back to Kerry with a smile and a wink. “Honey, forget all that, everything I just said. I have a feeling that in this dress, all you’ll need to do is show up.”

The days were growing longer with the approach of summer. The sun was still hanging brightly in the sky over the western edge of the fort when Kerry arrived at the supper dance with Dorothy and John. When Kerry had finally been persuaded to don the green dress, Dorothy had watched her friend’s transformation with amazement. Kerry was about to cause a sensation, Dorothy declared, and insisted on completing the picture by fixing her friend’s hair.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do with this disaster,” Kerry had said ruefully, looking in her mother’s mirror. But Dorothy had brushed and brushed until the short locks curled glossy and full around her face.

“It’s not too bad,” Dorothy had said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Different, but it suits you somehow. Makes you look kind of like a pixie.”

She wished she could disappear like a pixie, Kerry thought ruefully as she walked toward the group that had congregated in front of the supper tables. Most people were still eating. The dancing had not yet begun, and there was a lot of laughing and shouting back and forth as Frank Todd passed around mugs of hard cider and the travelers in general showed the effects of a day’s break from the trail.

In front of the barracks, several of the fort’s soldiers were watching the festivities with good-natured smiles. They were used to the scene by now, and they knew that the travelers had many tough times ahead of them. It would do them good to let off a little steam with a lively party.

Kerry and Dorothy’s arrival caused a number of the soldiers to straighten up on their benches. One poked another in the ribs and gave a nod their way. Another gave a low whistle that was loud enough to reach their ears.

“See, Kerry,” Dorothy said with a proud smile. “You’re already causing a commotion.”

“They’re looking at you, Dorothy,” she objected.

“Not likely.” Dorothy put her arm through John’s, who was walking by her side. “I’ve already got my beau.”

Even Kerry had to admit that as they drew closer it seemed that every single one of the soldiers had his eyes on her. It was a heady feeling that she’d never experienced before. “They must not see many ladies out here,” she said to the Burnetts, embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

“They don’t see many ladies that look like you do, Kerry,” Dorothy corrected gently.

The soldiers weren’t the only ones impressed. As they made their way toward the food tables, a number of the emigrants commented to Kerry on her transformed appearance. Some of the men who had been resentful after the revelation of her deception were now looking at her, most under the watchful eyes of their wives, with carefully banked admiration.

Even Patrick noted the change, whirling by with
some of his friends and shouting, “Hey, sis, you look grand!”

Kerry looked around for Scott, feeling an unfamiliar anticipation at the thought of seeing his reaction to her cleaned-up and dressed-up appearance. But he didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. Instead, as she scanned the crowd her eyes met Jeb Hunter’s. He visibly started when he saw her, then laid his empty plate on the table and started toward her.

Kerry wasn’t sure she wanted to talk with him just yet. She wished she could have run into Scott first. She didn’t know why, but tonight, feeling feminine and pretty, she would have preferred to face Jeb on Scott’s arm.

Jeb tipped back his leather hat as he reached her. “This
is
Miss Gallivan, I presume?” he asked in formal drawing room tones underlaid with a slight touch of amusement.

Damn the man, Kerry thought. He tied her tongue in knots. “I’m not so different that you can’t recognize me, Captain Hunter. I’ve just changed my clothes.”

Jeb took one of her hands and held it to one side as if expecting her to do a pirouette to model her dress. She stood stiffly and waited as his eyes roamed over her and warmed. “Yes, I can see that,” he said. “Banishing forever the specter of
Kiernan
Gallivan from the minds of the men here tonight.”

She looked around for Dorothy and John, but they had drifted off toward the supper tables. She was on her own. Turning back to the captain, she asked, “Does it really make so very much difference—what a person wears?”

Jeb hesitated a moment, dropping her hand. He rubbed a hand across his whiskers, then answered, “I think it depends on what person and what they’re wearing.”

“Well, I’m the same Kerry Gallivan and I’m wearing a three-year-old dress. Nothing fancy.”

“Your hair’s different, too.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just…fluffier.” She ran her fingers up the side of her head as she spoke.

Jeb laughed and once again Kerry noticed how much he changed when his expression wasn’t so serious. It wasn’t only
clothes
that made a difference in someone, she decided. “Well, I like it…
fluffy,
” he said, giving her a teasing smile that if she’d seen it on one of the Flanagan brothers she would have called downright flirtatious. It made her feel giddy, and she had to tell herself sternly that there was
no way
the serious and stern Captain Jeb Hunter was flirting with her. It was simply the spirit of the evening.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she said lightly. “And everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

“Yes.” Jeb’s smile dimmed a little. “This is good for them. They’ll need to remember the good times during the days ahead. We’ve just barely started, you know.”