Ana Seymour (18 page)

Once they reached the Rockies, attitudes changed. Remarkably, everyone felt new energy to tackle the obstacles ahead. The goal was finally in sight. On the other side of those mountains was the promised land. It was not to say that the arduous passage over them would be easy. But morale at that point usually soared, at least for a while. And if things went right, it stayed that way until they reached the coast.

Jeb knew all this, and usually he worked hard to keep his own temper even and pleasant during these last tedious days of prairie. But he’d never had a crossing quite like this one. He’d never before found himself so distracted by one of his emigrants that at times he’d totally forget his responsibilities, by one who’d so fired his blood that he tossed at night with restless dreams.

“Frank has some paper,” he said wearily. “I’d like every man over eighteen to check in with him and sign up for a watch.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kerry looking up at him with something like sympathy in her gaze. He had a fleeting memory of when she’d comforted him by drawing his head into her arms last night. He hadn’t deserved the comfort, but it had felt good. Too good. For the sake of the train and for the sake of his own soul, he’d have to be damn sure that he never gave himself the opportunity to take advantage of it again.

Jeb looked exhausted, and when Kerry listened to him outlining the details of the extra safety measures
he wanted to put in place, she got a sense for the first time of exactly how much did weigh on those broad shoulders of his. It wasn’t only the burden of his wife’s death that Jeb was carrying, she realized. He carried the burden of every single settler he took across the country each season. What a fitting atonement for his supposed crime—the crime of having the same foolish aspirations that thousands of other young men were having at the height of the gold fever.

It made her sad to think about. Sad for Jeb and for herself. When she closed her eyes she could still feel the ecstasy he had brought to her body. When she opened them, she could look into his face and feel a special warmth that was nothing like she’d ever felt. She’d loved her father and she loved Patrick. But Jeb seemed to have worked his way inside a little place in her heart that she hadn’t known existed.

It didn’t matter. For them to have a life together, he’d have to be free of his demons. And he didn’t want to be free of them. They were the link that kept the memory of Melanie alive in his heart. It didn’t matter that it was a destructive, painful link. It kept her there. And Kerry didn’t think that he would ever be willing to break it and let her go.

After the meeting she and Patrick wandered slowly back to their wagon with Scott. Scott was so open and uncomplicated. It would have made much more sense if he had been the one who had unlocked that special door in her heart. But, as she had said to herself many times since her father had died just on the verge of realizing his greatest dream, life didn’t make sense. It simply didn’t.

“There’s talk of a mutiny,” Scott said when they were out of earshot of the other settlers.

“What on earth do you mean?” Kerry asked.

“Against Hunter. People are getting sick of his high-handed ways.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“You yourself said he was high-handed, if I recall,” Scott pointed out.

“He’s the wagon master, isn’t he? I guess he wouldn’t be worth his salt if he didn’t know how to use some authority now and then.”

“He’s not high-handed with me,” Patrick contributed. “I like him.”

Scott didn’t look pleased with his comment.

“Well, I certainly hope that people will come to their senses and stop talking nonsense. That’s not what we need when we’re about to enter a dangerous portion of the trail.”

“If it
is
dangerous,” Scott added.

“Well, Jeb says it is. I believe him.”

“Jeb, is it?” Scott gave her a sideways look.

Kerry flushed. “We hired him to lead us and I think we ought to let him do his job.”

“I don’t know. Some folks are saying that Foxy and Daniel would be better scouts for us.” They’d reached Scott’s wagon and he stopped, evidently not intending to accompany them back to their own.

“I can’t believe anyone would be foolish enough to think that. Why, those two have more tall tales than a shipload of sailors.”

Scott squinted to see her face in the moonlight. “What is it with you and Hunter?” he asked.

“You’ve changed your mind about him since the beginning of this trip.”

“I’ve just seen that he’s efficient and knows what he’s talking about. And it’s obvious that he cares about everyone on the train.”

“Some more than others, I’d wager.”

Kerry did not try to refute Scott’s implication. The way Jeb was ignoring her, there was no way anyone could accuse him of harboring special feelings for her. “He’s been right about everything so far. He was right about the weight of our wagon and evidently about the bad water. No one else has gotten sick since we stopped drinking it.”

“That could be coincidence. Are you saying he was right when he tried to keep you off the train, too?”

Kerry sighed. Patrick had continued on to their wagon so she and Scott were alone. “I’m not saying that you have to like him, Scott. But it’s going to hurt the whole train if people begin to divide into factions. You know what Jeb has stressed from the beginning—we all need to work together.”

“We may just decide that what we need to do is work together without our current wagon master,” Scott argued.

“I hope not. Because I want to get to California. I think you do, too. And I’m convinced that the person who’s going to get us there is, Jeb Hunter.”

By the next day, almost everyone on the train knew of the whispers against the captain. After Jeb came by for Patrick, greeting her only with a nod, Kerry spent the rest of the morning wondering if he was
aware of the degree of dissatisfaction among his charges. She should talk with him, she thought, but she was afraid that any kind of private conversation would be impossible after the way their last encounter had ended. She was sure that Jeb Hunter would be happier if he never had to set eyes on her again. And whereas she didn’t try to convince herself that she’d stopped caring for the difficult captain, she knew that the best thing for her would be for this trip to be over with quickly so that she would never have to see him again. She could put her heart and her energies into building her father’s ranch.

The hot sun overhead meant that soon they would be stopping for lunch. Dorothy walked up beside the Gallivan wagon to ask Kerry if she was aware of the mutinous talk. At Kerry’s nod, she exploded. “It’s the men again—that Thomas Crandall and that old fool mountain man, Foxy.” A paroxysm of coughing stopped her tirade.

“Walk farther out from the wagon, away from the dust, Dorothy,” Kerry suggested. “I can still hear you.” When her friend moved away, she continued, “What do you think we should do?”

“Why don’t you talk to Captain Hunter?” Dorothy suggested. “You know him better than anyone.”

Kerry shifted her eyes to the oxen in front of her. “I don’t think he’d want to listen to me.”

Dorothy put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked up at Kerry. “Are you two having a lover’s squabble?” she asked.

Kerry bit her lip. She hoped Dorothy’s words were a figure of speech. She’d hate to think that her friend or anyone else on the train knew that she and Jeb had
become lovers. It was humiliating enough that
she
knew how thoroughly he had rejected her. “We’re just not getting along that well at the moment.”

“A lover’s squabble,” Dorothy confirmed with a nod of her head. “Don’t worry. You’ll work it out. That is if these hotheads don’t have their way and replace him.”

“It wouldn’t really come to that, would it?”

The wagons were slowing to a halt as the lead wagon stopped for the noon break at Jeb’s instructions. “I don’t know,” Dorothy said, sounding worried. “If you don’t want to talk with him about it, maybe we should both go now and see what Eulalie has to say.”

Kerry felt a surge of relief. Soft-spoken, strong, kind Eulalie would know what to do.

“I think you should talk to him, Kerry,” Eulalie suggested. “I believe he’s developed a fondness for you.”

“Aha! What did I tell you?” Dorothy clapped her hands together in delight to hear her suspicions shared by the older woman.

Kerry felt the sweat beading on her upper lip, and realized that it wasn’t only from the intense heat of the noon sun. It appeared that there was no help for it. She’d have to confront Jeb. They would both have to move beyond their own personal discomfort with each other and think about the good of the train. “What should I say to him?”

“Just warn him. Let him know how people are talking.” Eulalie urged.

“Wouldn’t it be better from Frank? After all, he’s supposed to be the people’s representative.”

“Frank’s so angry with everyone that he can’t even see the thing straight. He says he won’t dignify all this blamed fool talk by bothering the captain about it”

“So it’s up to me?” Kerry felt the beginnings of that now familiar weakness in her stomach.

“Go to him, Kerry,” Dorothy said gently. “Ask him what he’d like us to do to stop this nonsense.”

“I’ll give it a try.” She looked at the hopeful faces of her two friends. “But I have to tell you that there’s a possibility that Jeb Hunter won’t want to hear a word that I have to say.”

S
he would have preferred to get the meeting over with, but Jeb had kept the nooning short, as was his custom lately while they were traveling through what he called the heart of the Indian country. He’d been pushing to cover a few extra miles for several days now, which merely added to the grumbling among the emigrants. The short noon breaks, the long days, the extra patrols—all of it seemed unnecessary when they continued to go mile after mile without any evidence of the presence of even friendly Indians, much less hostile ones.

Kerry had had to climb back up on her wagon as the line began to roll again, and Patrick had joined her with the news that he wouldn’t be riding with Jeb that afternoon as the wagon master would be doing some scouting out ahead of the train.

So she’d had a full afternoon to contemplate their encounter, and by the time evening came, she’d decided that she was overreacting to what was really a very simple task. She and Jeb had made love. There was nothing that could be done to change that. But
they were two adults, and they could certainly move beyond their personal difficulties to deal dispassionately with the situation at hand. She wouldn’t even bring up their last private meeting. She wouldn’t even think about it, she resolved, as she put away the supper dishes and prepared to walk to the Todds’ wagon to find him.

“Eulalie said you wanted to speak with me.”

His voice made her drop the tin plate she was holding. It fell to the ground with a clatter and rolled toward Jeb. He leaned over to pick it up and asked with a twisted smile, “Throwing dishes at me already?”

Her-hand fluttered at her throat. This was not the calm and collected way she had wanted to greet him. “You startled me,” she explained unnecessarily.

His half smile stayed in place. “I’m sorry. But then, you must be getting tired of my apologies by now. I should probably stop making them.”

She took the plate from his hand and put it back in the provision box, slamming the cover. “There’s no need for apologies. You’ve done nothing to offend me.”

“Except take your virginity while you were under the false impression that I was doing so with the idea of marrying you.”

Kerry looked around, checking to be sure that Patrick was not within earshot. Jeb was being careless bringing up the subject here where anyone might come along to hear them. She sensed an anger simmering beneath the surface of his bland expression that made him uncharacteristically blunt and heedless.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“What could be wrong? I’m leading a group of wagons through the most dangerous part of the Overland Trail. It’s possible we’re being watched by a Sioux war party this very minute. We have no water to drink. And now I find that my settlers have decided that it’s no longer important for them to follow my orders. To top it off, I’ve thrown away every principle I ever had to commit a total breach of trust and perhaps ruin the life of one of the women on my train.”

“That would be me?” Kerry asked.

“That would be you,” he confirmed. The anger now showed clearly on his face, and once again Kerry realized that it was directed almost entirely toward himself.

She decided to leave the personal issue alone for the moment and stick with the problem of the dissatisfied members of the train. “So you know about the grumbling among the settlers?”

Jeb nodded. “Frank’s filled me in. Plus most of the disgruntled members have not been too particular about keeping their feelings a secret.”

“Well, I want you to know not everyone feels like that.”

Jeb’s expression lightened for a moment. “Thank you,” he said. “You have more reason to dislike me than anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone dislikes you, Jeb, though sometimes you do seem a little…hard. You could make more of an effort to be friendly, to joke with people.”

“I’m not exactly a funny guy, Kerry.”

“I don’t mean that. We need a leader, not an entertainer.”
“They should just let me lead then, and stop complaining.”

“Yes, you’re right. I don’t know what’s the matter with some of these people.”

Jeb turned and went over to crouch down next to their dwindling campfire. Absently, he began building it up again with the wood that was stacked next to it. Kerry had been going to let it die for the night now that supper was finished, but she sensed that he needed something to do, so she didn’t comment. After a few moments, he said in a dispirited voice, “I know what’s the matter with them. It happens every trip about this time. The prairie madness, we call it. Everyone goes a little crazy. But crazy people can be dangerous, and it’s my job to protect them from their own foolishness.”

“What are you going to do?” She walked over and went down on her knees next to him by the fire.

“Well, for one thing, I’m going to tell Whitcomb and Blue to take their beaver traps and skedaddle. I don’t need them undermining every word I say.”

“They seemed like such agreeable old gents.”

“Oh, I think they are. It’s just that they’re mountain men. They have their own way of looking at life. Climb one taller mountain, kill one bigger bear and, most important, always have one better story than the next guy.”

Kerry sat back, crossing her legs to keep them out of the way of the fire. She was pleased that Jeb was talking with her in this way, opening up a little. He seemed to carry so much bottled up inside him. “Do you think they’re the ones causing the problems, then?” she asked.

Jeb moved to a sitting position beside her. “No, not particularly. I’m sure they have no idea of the damage they could be doing to these people. They’re loners. They go where they please, when they please—camp when they’re tired, knowing that they can always live off the land if their supplies run out. They’ve never had the responsibility for getting fifty wagons full of women and children across half a continent.”

“Like you do.”

“Yes, like I do.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and then his forehead.

“Does your head hurt?”

He nodded. “It’s something I live with. My headaches seem to take pleasure in coming on just when everything else is going haywire.”

“Don’t you have powders or something?”

“No. I just live with it.”

Men, Kerry thought with exasperation. Her father had been the same way, never wanting to admit that anything could be wrong with him. She’d thought more than once that it was probable that he’d felt pain in his heart before the attack that killed him and had just never said anything to them about it. But as she watched Jeb continue to rub his forehead with two tanned fingers, she realized that Jeb’s reaction to his headache went beyond typical male ego. It was almost as if he welcomed the pain. Another piece of his penance.

She jumped to her feet and went back to the wagon to rummage in a pack that included medicinal supplies from the Boone store. She found one of the headache powders and mixed it in a cup with some
of the fresh water that the men of the water brigade had brought to each wagon.

“Drink this,” she said, returning to the fire and handing it to him.

He looked at the cup as if it were poison.

“It’s spring water,” she assured him. “I’m not disobeying your orders about the river.”

“You seem to be the exception, then,” he said, gulping the drink down in three big swallows. “This tastes awful,” he added, making a rasping sound with his throat.

Kerry laughed. “Don’t be a baby. Just finish your medicine like a good boy.”

“I finished it.” He handed the cup back to her, then added grudgingly, “Thank you.”

The whole exchange made Kerry feel tender and a little sad. Jeb Hunter was so set on protecting and taking care of his flock. But who took care of him? He didn’t seem to think that he deserved to be cared for.

“Would you like a cold cloth?” She asked. Without thinking, she leaned toward him and pressed her cool fingers against his forehead. He gave a murmur of approval as he tipped back his head and closed his eyes.

“That feels better than a cold cloth,” he said softly.

Her fingers soon took on the heat of his skin so she exchanged them for the fingers of her left hand, and let her right move to his temple to make gentle circles. “A cloth would be cooler,” she said.

“You smell good. Lavender or something.”

Kerry knelt beside him, continuing her gentle massage.
“My soap. It only takes up a little space,” she added quickly.

Jeb opened his eyes. The anger was entirely gone from them and much of the pain. He regarded her with gentle amusement. “I’m not going to tell you to leave your soap behind, Kerry. I’m not that much of an ogre. Especially not when it makes you smell like an English garden.”

She blushed. “An Irish garden, you’d better say. Papa said the same thing when he gave it to me. He said my mother always used it”

Slowly he reached his hands up and pulled hers away from his head. “I think that had better be enough.”

“Are you feeling better?”

He gave a rueful chuckle. “My
head
is.”

Kerry sat back on her haunches. His meaning was obvious. “Should I be the one to apologize now?” she asked.

He studied her in the firelight. “Apologize for making my blood race every time I get near you? I hardly think it’s anything you can help, sweetheart. It’s just something I’m going to have to learn to live with over these next few weeks.”

“Until you can be rid of me.”

“Well, yes, to be blunt. Until I can see you safely to your destination, which is what you and all these people hired me to do. And which is what I’m going to do, whether they want me to or not.”

His voice became stronger as they moved back to a topic that was safer than the more personal ones. Kerry let her hands drop back into her lap. At the moment, Jeb was right, the welfare of the train was
more important than any feelings between the two of them. Whether they would be able to keep that resolve through the weeks they still had of traveling closely together was another question.

“The Todds, the Burnetts, Samuel Hamilton and several of the others are on your side. We are, too, of course,” she told him.

“What about your friend Haskell?”

Kerry hesitated. “I think Scott has enough sense to do the right thing in the end. He doesn’t like you much, though,” she admitted.

“I wonder why,” Jeb said dryly.

Kerry shrugged. If he didn’t want to deal with his own feelings for her, she wasn’t about to discuss Scott’s. “Is there something you want us to do—to persuade the others?”

Jeb leaned back on his hands. “If they would just hang on for a few more days, we’ll be starting to go up in elevation and we’ll hit the Sweetwater River, where we’ll have as much fresh water as we need without leaving camp.”

“You have to tell them that, Jeb.”

“They don’t even want to listen to me anymore. They’re too busy listening to Foxy’s boasting.”

“We’ll just have to make them listen, then,” Kerry said firmly.

Jeb sat watching her with a look of admiration. “You don’t give up, woman, do you?”

“That shouldn’t surprise you. There are a lot of women on this train who don’t give up. You found that out for yourself back in Fort Kearney.”

Jeb rubbed his chin. “Yes, I did.”

“You might want to remember that every now and
then. Men might have the brawn to go out and wrestle with this West of yours, but women can have something even more important—the will.”

His eyes darkened in memory. “Having a strong will doesn’t always save you from disaster.”

“Brawn doesn’t either.”

Jeb fell silent. The rare times that he wanted to give himself a little break from his guilt, he’d admitted deep down that if he’d been at his cabin with Melly when the renegades came, there would probably have been little he could do against them. Most likely he would have died alongside her. Kerry was right. Sometimes neither physical nor mental strength could prevent evil things from happening.

“You’re quite a woman, Kerry Gallivan,” he said finally. Then on a sudden impulse that overruled his best resolutions, he leaned over and kissed her. It was meant to be a kiss of gratitude for her support, but the moment their lips touched, it blazed into something more. Once again, the heat between them was instantaneous and devastating, blotting every sane thought from his mind.

He reached for her, his hands finding her slender arms and then cupping themselves around her neck to hold her steady as his lips and tongue plundered her mouth.

“I’m sorry to have to interrupt.” Scott’s voice was harsher than Kerry had ever heard it before. And beneath the harshness was something else that had her sitting up straight in alarm.

Jeb rolled to his feet. “What’s on your mind, Haskell?” His tone was not friendly.

“One of my mules is missing…”

“Did you tether them securely…?” Jeb interrupted, but Scott continued angrily.

“One of my mules is missing and so are Patrick and the twins.”

Kerry’s face went white. “Patrick was just here for supper a few minutes ago.”

Scott looked from her to Jeb, his face stony. “More than a few minutes, I’d say. It appears that you may have lost track of time.”

Kerry ignored his accusing tone. “Why do you say they’re missing?”

“Dorothy and John say Patrick took the girls right after supper, over an hour ago. They’ve searched up and down the train and can’t find a trace of them.”

“Patrick wouldn’t go off by himself. He knew how upset Jeb was the other night when the three of us went out.”

“Did either of the two of you ever take the time to explain to him why he shouldn’t ride away from the train?” Scott asked them.

Kerry felt sick to her stomach. “Well, he knows about the Indians. Everyone’s been talking about it”

“Yes, everyone’s been talking about it, and Foxy and Daniel have been busy reassuring everyone that there’s nothing to worry about,” Jeb pointed out. He walked briskly toward Scott “I’m sure the children have heard that, too. Where are your animals, Haskell? I want to take a look.”

Kerry followed the two men to the other side of the wagon where five of Scott’s six-mule team grazed quietly in the darkness. Please let it be a mistake, she prayed silently. She looked along the line of wagons,
willing
Patrick to come running up with a twin on
each hand. What had Jeb just said? A strong will doesn’t always prevent tragedy.