Gabriel's Atonement (17 page)

Grandpa paused, resting one arm on the mule's back. “I don't think he'll have to gallop all that way. Folks are fussing with the government, trying to talk the powers that be into allowing us racers from the north to cross the Cherokee Strip before the race begins.”

“How wide is that?” Lara asked.

“Fifty or sixty miles, from what I've heard.”

Lara joined Jo and leaned against the wagon. “Crossing that before the race could make all the difference in getting land or not getting it.”

Grandpa nodded. “That's true. We all need to pray that they allow us to traverse it early.”

Jo crossed her arms. “Why do we all need to go?”

“It's too far to come back, if I get land,” Grandpa said. “We all need to be close to defend it from claim jumpers who might try to take it away, especially before we get the land registered.”

Lara hated to voice the question running circles in her brain, but knew she had to. “And what if you don't get land? What will we do then? Surely there can't be enough for all the thousands of people surging into Caldwell.”

Grandpa straightened and patted the mule. “Then we'll pray and ask God what we should do.”

Lara returned to the soddy and searched the small home a final time to make sure they'd packed all of the belongings. They simply had to get land. If they did, they could build a wood home where snakes and critters didn't drop from the ceiling and they didn't get wet and muddy when thunderstorms raced through dropping buckets of rain in a short while. They could make some real beds and not have to sleep on the cold floor anymore. She walked to the door and glanced over to the tree where Sunny was tied. Jo struggled to lift Tom's heavy saddle onto the buckskin's back and finally succeeded. Why else would God have given them the horse, if not to ride in the race and win a claim? Having their own property—one hundred and sixty acres that no one could evict them from—was a dream come true. It would give Grandpa a place where he could raise horses again, and she could have as big a garden as she wanted. “Please, heavenly Father. Grant us favor.”

Michael ran toward her. “Mama, Grandpa's wantin' to know if you're ready to go.”

“Almost. I still need to see what I can harvest from the garden.” She bent and picked up the bucket she'd left near the door for that purpose.

“Can I help?”

“You'd better make a trip to the privy first.”

“Aww, I don't need to.”

She lifted her brows and gave him a stern look.

He ducked his head and turned. “Yes, ma'am.”

Smiling, she opened the gate and made her way through the garden. If only they could have stayed a few more months, they would have been able to harvest more than a few small carrots, beets, and onions, which barely covered the bottom of the bucket. At least they would help flavor tonight's soup. With the money she'd made from her final load of mending, she'd bought several potatoes, a one-pound bag of rice, and a small hunk of ham. Her mouth watered.

She closed the gate behind her for the final time. Mr. Hancock's son's family would be the one to enjoy the fruit of her labor.

With her bucket safely tucked into the rear of the wagon that held all of their belongings, she climbed onto the seat, next to her son. Grandpa released the brake and slapped the reins against the mule's back, and they were off—at a tedious pace. A fly whizzed past her ear, and she swatted her hand in the air. “Where are we going?”

“I scouted out a place south of here near where the Beaumont family used to live. There are some trees near a creek, and there weren't many people camped there yet. I figured if we traveled about four miles today and about the same the day after, we'll make it to the state border.”

“What about food? Are there any places to purchase supplies?” Not that she had much money.

“I doubt it. But we've got a good supply of flour and cornmeal. Could be we can barter for whatever else we need.”

As they reached the main trail, Grandpa turned right instead of going on the trail that led to Caldwell. He was the one member of her family to have ever traveled south of the town. “Can you tell me what it's like in the Oklahoma Territory? Will we encounter—” Lara glanced at her son then mouthed the word
Indians?

Jo rode up closer to Lara's side, as if she, too, wanted to hear his response.

“Much of Oklahoma is grasslands situated on rolling hills. Some places have lots of trees and others are bald of them. It's a lot dryer in the southwestern part than the central and northern areas. As long as we get a place with a good water supply, we should do fine.”

“Does it snow as much there as it does in Kansas?” Jo asked.

Grandpa shook his head. “I don't believe so, but I was never there during wintertime. Still, it's farther south, so my guess would be that we won't see as much.”

“That would certainly be a blessing.” Lara thought of how hard it was getting to town in cold weather. Snow made it impossible to venture very far. If they hadn't had the good fortune of smoking a deer and catching quite a few fish last year, they might not have made it through the bitter weather. The Oklahoma Territory certainly sounded like the Garden of Eden, but she'd learned the hard way to not get her hopes up. People had a way of exaggerating and making things sound better than they really were. She'd pray for land, but at the same time, she wouldn't allow her hopes to build. She couldn't afford another big disappointment.

Gabe rode past the last of the tents in the makeshift village on the outskirts of Caldwell and gave Tempest his head. The eager horse leaped forward, charging down the lane. Gabe enjoyed the feel of the cool morning air whipping at his face and clothing. There was little sign of last night's rainfall as the thirsty land had sucked up every last drop. The hard-packed dirt of the trail wasn't even muddy.

After a few minutes, he reined Tempest back to a walk. The turnoff to Lara Talbot's land was close, and he didn't want to miss it. The day he drove her home, he'd noted an odd redbud tree that had most likely been hit by lightning. The small tree had split, and though one part of it rested on the ground, it was still covered in fresh buds. It was a tribute to the determination needed to survive on the harsh but lovely prairie.

Gabe spied the tree, although instead of buds, tiny pink flowers now covered it. He reined Tempest down the narrow trail. The grass was crushed, revealing the tracks of a wagon that had recently passed this way.

As he came to the final bend before reaching Lara Talbot's soddy, he pulled Tempest to a stop and took a deep breath. He patted his coat pocket, knowing the stash of cash was still there. He wished he'd planned out what to say to her—how to explain the sack of gold coins he was giving her, but he'd never been able to come up with anything that he thought she'd believe—and he didn't want to lie to her. If he told her the coins belonged to her husband, she'd want to know how he ended up with them. And then he'd have to tell her that he killed her husband—and he didn't think he could do that. He didn't want to see hate in her eyes as she glared at him.

Perhaps this was a bad idea. Could he somehow leave the money without her knowing he'd come?

He shook his head and started to turn Tempest around when the chatter of voices stopped him. Had someone come in the wagon to visit Mrs. Talbot?

Curiosity compelled him to nudge his horse forward. As he rounded the bend, Gabe spied an older couple. The man was working on the front door while the woman watered the garden. Both straightened and turned his way as he rode toward the house. The man pushed his hat back on his forehead, eyeing Gabe, then walked toward him. Gabe guessed the overall-clad stranger was probably in his early fifties, and he seemed friendly. But where were Mrs. Talbot and her son?

“Howdy, mister. What can I do for you?”

Gabe smiled and dismounted, hoping to show he wasn't a threat. “I'm Gabe Coulter, and I'm looking for Mrs. Talbot. Is she home, by chance?”

The man pursed his lips and shook his head. “Herman Hancock.” He held out his hand, and Gabe shook it. “They're gone.” Mr. Hancock hung his head. “I sure hated turning them out, but our son and his family are arriving tomorrow, and they needed a place to live. Didn't seem right for our own young'uns to live in a tent when we had this nice soddy. Wish I had more than one, but I don't, and so I had no choice but to tell Mrs. Talbot they needed to leave.”

Gabe gritted his teeth. As if her situation weren't bad enough, living in a dirt house. Where were Lara and her son now? It wasn't likely she'd find a better place to live, not with thousands of newcomers swarming the town. “Do you know where they went?”

Mr. Hancock took off his hat and scratched his head. “I heard tell that Mrs. Talbot registered for the land rush. I imagine they headed for the state border. It only makes sense with the date gettin' closer.”

The woman ambled over and joined her husband. She shook her head. “What's this world comin' to when a woman rides in a race to get land? It just ain't right, I tell you.”

“Desperation drives people to do things they wouldn't normally do, Maudie. It makes perfect sense to me that she'd want to own land that no one could evict her off of.”

The woman harrumphed and turned to her husband. “I need you to fetch more water, Herman. Can't let those vegetables wither. Not with Gavin and the kids comin'.”

In spite of his anger that Mr. Hancock had evicted Mrs. Talbot and her son, he nodded at the couple and mounted Tempest. He rode back the way he had come, trying to figure out what to do next. When he got to the turnoff to head back toward town, he studied the wagon tracks, leading away from Caldwell. Were they Lara's tracks? He didn't want her driving out of his life. He wasn't done helping her.

The thought of her and her young son heading for the border alone made his gut swirl. Tonight, they'd most likely be sleeping outside, possibly in a tent. With all the rain they'd had lately, her boy could take sick. And she was a pretty woman. What if some unsavory cad found her alone? There'd be no one to protect her.

He reined Tempest toward Caldwell and kicked the gelding's sides. He lunged forward like an eager racehorse and galloped toward town. Gabe had a lot to do. He needed to buy a tent and supplies. Tomorrow, another load of horses was scheduled to arrive. If he hired a cowboy to help, they could move the horses toward the border, where he could get top dollar for the coveted animals.

Plan decided, he enjoyed the rest of his ride. The only problem he could see in locating Lara and her son was if there were as many people at the border as there were in Caldwell. He had to find her. He wasn't ready to say good-bye to the pretty green-eyed widow.

Late in the afternoon, Jo finally found a reason to grin. As the wagon rolled into the creek, the goats, tied with ten-foot ropes to the back, pitched a conniption fit about getting wet. Goats may like a lot of things, but one thing they hated was water. They bleated louder than she'd ever heard and jerked at their tethers, but as the wagon rolled on, the furry trio was pulled into the water, and they had no choice.

Jo nudged Sunny into the creek, following the wagon Grandpa drove that had almost finished fording the creek. Water traveled up the rotating wheels, creating an interesting paddle-wheel effect—the most interesting thing on this trip so far. Well, except for the numerous young men who'd winked and smiled at her as they passed by.

She yawned, wishing she could curl up in the back of the wagon like Michael and take a nap. At first, her charming nephew had waved and hollered at her, but he'd soon grown bored and finally laid down at Lara's insistence.

Traveling wasn't as much fun as she'd expected, and they still had a ways to go to reach the Unassigned Lands. When she first heard about the land rush, it sounded like a big adventure, but each step the horse took, she ventured farther into untamed land. They had passed the last of the farmhouses an hour ago and were probably halfway to the border of Indian Territory.