Glory (9 page)

As if he’d remembered something, he handed the reins to Ruth and hopped to the ground, then strode back to the campfire, now just a pile of damp ashes. With his back to the wagon, he took something out of his shirt pocket and set it on a large flat rock. He returned to the wagon and swung onto the seat. Without a word, he took the reins from Ruth and gave them a shake, setting the team on its way.

Moments later, Glory crept toward the abandoned campsite, keeping an eye on the disappearing wagon. She knew before she touched it what was inside the tightly wrapped item Jackson had left on the rock. The aroma was unmistakable. Bending down and snatching up the small package, she pulled back the corners of the napkin and inhaled the pungent tang of bacon seconds before sinking her teeth into the delectable meat. She sat on her haunches, chewing. Her eyes scanned the area nervously.

She darted into a shadow behind the trunk of an oak. In a moment, she had devoured the biscuit and was beginning to feel better. She sensed that she was completely alone, other than the scurrying squirrels and the noisy birds.

Eventually she padded down to the creek and sipped several handfuls of cool water. For a moment, she examined the napkin that had contained the biscuit.

Why had Jackson left food behind? Did he know she’d been out there, watchful and hungry? Usually she could outwit her prey, moving quietly and undetected through
the woods, but Jackson was no fool. Somehow, he must have sensed her presence or the presence of someone he thought might need the food.

She warmed the napkin in her hands, grateful for the wagon master’s kindness. Bending down, she dipped the napkin into the cool water and wiped it across her forehead and over her cheeks and mouth.

Feeling better now, Glory decided to follow the wagon, keeping out of sight. She could shadow the traveling party all the way to Colorado, remaining far enough behind to keep them from seeing her but close enough to not feel so alone.

“Looking for something?” Ruth asked as Jackson scanned both sides of the trail.

“Just enjoying the fine weather.” He winked at her. “The trail is full of surprises—need to keep an eye out.”

When they’d stopped for a noon meal, he thought maybe he’d spotted Glory in a grove of sycamores. When he’d looked again, no one was there. He’d resisted the urge to leave food behind. If he made it easy, she wouldn’t make herself known. He didn’t need another girl along, another responsibility, but it would be easier for him to have her with the others than to worry about her out there trailing the wagon.

He berated himself for having left the biscuit that morning. Feeding strays was sure to make them hang around. At the same time, something about the homeless waif brought out his protective side. Could it be pity? he wondered.

In many ways, she had been very sheltered. She could move through the woods, hunt like a man, and put meat on the table, but she was unprepared for the world and its threats. She’d made him want to shield her . . . until he’d encountered her stubborn pride. That was a nuisance he could live without.

That night they made camp at Rock Creek. Jackson checked the perimeter of the rolling terrain where he’d tethered the stock to give them access to the lush grass. However, he saw no signs of Glory or anyone else for that matter. Bidding the girls good night, he turned in early. If Glory decided to join them, it was going to have to be on her own terms.

Several days later, Jackson saddled the mare instead of tying her behind the wagon. They’d crossed Dragoon Creek late yesterday; about a mile up was Second Dragoon. After the girls had broken camp and climbed into the wagon, he handed the reins to Ruth. “Think you can handle the team by yourself?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes.”

He returned the smile, grateful for her quiet competence. “Good girl.”

“Ladies,” he announced a moment later.

The girls poked their heads out of the wagon behind Ruth, who was sitting on the driver’s seat.

“Up ahead, we’ll encounter another stream. Usually has
a rapid flow over a sandy, level bottom. But with recent rains, it could be out of its banks. It might be a tough crossing. I’ll ride beside the team to steer them to solid footing. Ruth will drive. Harper, be ready if she needs a hand. Everybody stay in the wagon and do as I say.”

“We’re ready,” Ruth called cheerily. “I’ve yet to see the righteous forsaken, and I’m fully confident that the Lord will see us safely to the other side.”

“Yes, ma’am! He’s never failed me yet.” Jackson scanned the group, and every head nodded.

“Yes, sir,” Harper added with a trace of mockery in her tone. “Like Ruth said.”

“Let’s move out!”

Jackson glanced around, hoping he’d made his announcement loudly enough for Glory to hear. He’d seen no sign of her this morning, but he’d felt compelled to leave their scraps behind in a small bundle beside the campfire before dousing it. He couldn’t let the girl starve.

When they reached the stream, Jackson studied the swollen waters and swift current. It was worse than he’d imagined. The girls watched in silence as he reined his horse up and down, studying the bank. At one point, he clucked to the mare and tapped her with his heels. The horse responded, leaping into the water that swiftly rose to her shoulders. He maneuvered her against the current as he carefully threaded their way across and up the opposite bank.

“We’ll cross here,” he shouted from the other side, a distance upstream.

Ruth sawed the reins and clucked to the team of oxen, guiding them upriver as Jackson made his way back across to them. In a few minutes, he helped her line up the wagon.

“Got everything secured in there?” he called.

“Got everything tied down,” Lily shouted.

“And knotted twice,” Patience added, poking her head out between the canvas.

“Could get bumpy, ladies, so find something solid to hold on to.”

Ruth glanced back over her shoulder and then bobbed her head. “Ready,” she announced.

“Let’s move out,” Jackson called as he took a position close to the team. The animals slid down the bank into the river, the wagon wobbling behind.

Jackson kept an eye on the wagon as the oxen stretched their necks to keep their heads above water and dug their hooves into the sandy bottom. Slowly they worked their way across, Jackson reining his mare and pulling on the oxen’s harness, and Ruth sawing the reins to support their direction.

As they approached the other side, Ruth slapped the reins and Jackson hauled on the oxen as they scrambled up the muddy bank. Safely across on dry ground, the wagon master turned to face Ruth. “Everybody okay?”

“Everybody’s okay here.” Ruth glanced overhead and added, “And we thank our Lord.”

Jackson bowed his head respectfully and sat back in his saddle for a moment. When he looked up, his heart leapt in
his chest. “Oh no,” he muttered, kicking his horse into action.

In a flash, the mare bolted back into the water and under Jackson’s urging swam toward the center of the swollen stream, her eyes wide with fright. The girls leaned out the back of the wagon to see what had gotten into him.

“Glory!” the girls shouted in a chorus when they spotted her a few feet from the far bank, her head barely above water as she struggled to hold her rifle above her in one hand while treading water with her other hand.

Glory moved farther into the river where the current strengthened, making it impossible to maintain her balance. Her eyes rounded in panic. When she opened her mouth to call out, she gagged on a gulp of muddy water.

Jackson guided his mare downstream, anticipating the inevitable, hoping he’d reach Glory in time. Her head disappeared beneath the surface of the water and then bobbed to the surface.

He urged his horse into what he prayed would be the path of the girl as the river clutched her in its undertow. He would have only one chance to grab her. If she got by him, the current would take her faster than he could follow.

The mare grunted as something solid collided with her broadside. Jackson plunged his hand into the water and grabbed the first thing he felt. Up came Glory, held tightly by the hair of her head. She sputtered and howled in pain as Jackson drew her up behind him astride the mare.

For a moment the horse thrashed for a solid foothold under the added weight, then scrambled forward. When he was able, Jackson turned the animal in a slow circle and headed toward the bank.

The girls had climbed out of the wagon and were anxiously pacing the bank. As the mare drew near, Patience and Lily grabbed the bridle on either side and helped haul the horse up the slippery bank.

Weakly, Glory slipped off the horse and collapsed on dry ground, struggling for breath. When she lifted her head to look gratefully into the eyes of the man who had saved her life, Jackson seared her with the heat of his scornful gaze.

“You could have been killed,” he muttered between clenched teeth. He had nearly missed snagging her in the churning water. For a few seconds he had felt helpless to save her, and he hated feeling helpless; it was something he could ill afford when he was responsible for the lives of others.

“I’m sorry,” Glory choked out, gagging on dirty water.

“I’m tired of your games.” The rebuke came out harsher than he’d intended, but the little twit had scared him senseless. “Get yourself into
that
wagon and
stay
there before you get your fool self killed!”

Glory met his gaze squarely, her quivering chin the only sign of how much the effort cost her. “I can’t,” she replied in a small voice.

“Can’t or won’t?” he snapped. He tossed a look to the sky. “Keeping an eye out for you has slowed us down for
days. Thanks to the delay you’ve brought us, we won’t make Council Grove this week.”

“Will that be a problem?” Ruth asked.

Jackson shook his head. “It could be.” He shot a glare at Glory. “We’ll make better time if you’re with us than letting you traipse along behind, slowing us down.”

“I’ll only bring you trouble.”

“Trouble?” Jackson muttered, glancing away. “What do you call what just happened?”

“Trouble—but I was trying to stay back!”

Ruth knelt beside her and brushed matted hair off her face. “Glory, you have to listen to reason. We understand your need for independence, but you must cooperate now. Let’s get you into some dry clothes. After a bite to eat, everything will look brighter.”

Glory grasped Ruth’s arms. “I can’t join you. Bad things follow me. I’d only bring you harm.”

Patience touched Glory’s shoulder. “You’re talking nonsense. Now let’s get you into dry clothes before you catch your death.”

Glory shook her head, staring at Jackson, who was gazing stonily ahead. He knew she realized he thought of her as a burden. She wanted to prove she could fend for herself, but after what just happened, how could she blame him for doubting her ability to survive on her own?

She struggled to her feet. “I have to go.”

Ruth reached out to cajole her. Jackson saw the stubborn pride in the tilt of her chin and knew she had a will
that would be nigh onto impossible to break. He had two options: He could tie her up and haul her aboard against her will, or he could let her go her own way. The last thing he needed was for someone to accuse him of abducting a young woman and holding her against her will. Drawing a deep breath, he knew his choices. None. He’d have to let her go until she made up her mind to join them.

He glanced at the others. “Well, ladies, you heard her. Let her go. We’ve wasted enough time.”