Unconquerable Callie (16 page)

That evening, Seth visited each camp and examined raw, bloody hands, some with embedded pieces of rope deep in cuts. Women as well as men turned palms up for him to inspect. He offered salve and praise.

He’d met his goal. Not one wagon was lost. More importantly, no one had been hurt. No life taken. They were tired, bruised, and battered, but they were no longer wearing coats of prairie dust and trying to swallow past dry throats. Ash Hollow Creek had taken care of that. The trees and scrub brush offered a welcome respite from the dry prairie. The water was pure, there was wood to burn, and plenty of grass for the stock. And though the travelers were too tired to make much of a supper, there was coffee aplenty.

Seth found Callie sitting on a log in front of her wagon, her head down, resting on her arms. Her freshly washed hair curled damply around her neck, the moonlight turning it to creamy white. He hesitated, not wanting to disturb her.

As if sensing a presence, she raised her head and gave him a tired, but familiar, sassy grin.

“Callie. Are you ever going to quit surprising me?” He hunkered down beside her and took one hand in his, turning it palm up. He wasn’t prepared for the pain that engulfed him at seeing her raw and cut skin. His quick intake of breath said it all.

“They’re not as bad as they look. At least I’m clean. I must have scrubbed for an hour. The creek ran muddy,” she said, trying for a laugh.

“Lost your gray hair.” He reached out and gently twirled one soft curl around his finger. “I’m going to miss the old man.”

“Well, he won’t be entirely gone. I don’t plan to put a dress or skirt back on for the rest of the trip.”

“Like those pants, huh?”

She grinned impudently. “I still think you men are selfish keeping the pleasure of pants from women. I may wear them forever.”

“Well, I don’t know about forever. I’m getting used to them, but what about your fiancé?”

Callie took a deep breath. Desperate to change the subject, she asked, “Is it too late to walk over to the abandoned ‘soddy’?”

“It’s dark, Callie.”

“Oh. Yes. Sure. I know. Guess time got away from me.”

Seth chuckled. “There’ll be plenty of time to look it over, even leave a letter there, if you want. Lot of people leave letters and money for postage hoping some eastward bound traveler will take them back to the States. We’re laying over tomorrow. I think we all need time to lick our wounds.”

“Weren’t they wonderful, Seth?”

“The women? Yes, they were. But you set the example. When I saw you light out for that rope, I wanted to yell at you to stay back out of harm’s way. But before I could say anything, the other women were following your lead, and the load was lightened. In all my years of taking wagons down that damn hill, nary a woman has put forth a helping hand.” His voice lowered, full of emotions he couldn’t hide. “Until you. If I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it again. You are a woman to cross the river with. I’d take you over anyone.”

With infinite tenderness, he lifted both wounded palms to his mouth and placed feathery silk kisses across them. The moon came from behind a cloud and shone on Seth’s face. The day’s stress etched across his brow, but the glow of pride, or something else emanated from his eyes.

“I wish . . .” he whispered the faltering words.

Callie knew then that a part of her heart was breaking, and that before this was all over, it would be shattered. Did she dare tell him? Would he hate her if he knew the truth? Would he never look at her like this again? Would he shun her as the liar she was? He was a man of honor. A man who expected no less from his woman. No, she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t take the risk. Better to shatter into a million pieces than to see disgust and loathing in his eyes. This pain when they separated would be her punishment for using trickery to get her way.

Her eyes were downcast as she fought with her conscience. When she raised them, he was gone. Her fingertips brushed across the palm of her hand tracing the path his lips had made. She closed her palm, cupping his essence inside. She couldn’t have Seth, but she would have memories. That she could have.

The following morning, Callie woke up with a sense of purpose. She would make the most of her remaining time on the wagon train. She would store up enough of that powerful man to last a lifetime. The new start waiting for her at South Pass would have to suffice. She had fought for it. She wasn’t proud of what she’d done to get this far, but she would have done it all over again. She had left nothing behind to follow a dream to a real life. Like the sailors of old, she’d fixed her sights on a guiding star and each day brought her closer to the shore, her very own Promised Land.

Later that day, she and Phyllis walked over to the soddy. She left a letter to her aunt, along with postage money. She wasn’t worried. If the letter didn’t make it back East, there would be opportunity enough when she reached her destination—South Pass.

“You’re awfully quiet, Callie,” Phyllis said. “Aren’t you thrilled we’ve made so many miles? When we get to Chimney Rock, Jacob says we will have traveled about 550 miles from Independence, Missouri.” The woman shook her head. “We were babies then,” she said softly. “We thought we knew all we needed to know about life on the trail. But I’d say Ash Hollow grew us up, wouldn’t you?” She laughed. “Oh, Callie, I do hope we settle somewhere near each other in Oregon.”

Callie reached out and gave her friend a hug, hoping that would suffice for an answer. Leaving Phyllis was another heartache she hadn’t counted on. For a moment, she pondered her decision to settle at South Pass, but only for a moment. She knew in her heart of heart that South Pass Wyoming, was where she was meant to be. Oregon held nothing for her. There was no land, no dreams, and no man waiting for her. But in South Pass, she had a chance, an opportunity to build her own dreams. The thought of her bakery brought a smile to her lips. It would be hard work, but it would take her mind off the pain and emptiness she would feel as the train pulled out, leaving her behind.

She debated about confiding in Phyllis, confessing to her, but quickly decided that by doing so, she would be placing her friend in an awkward position. Phyllis would be drawn into keeping Callie’s secret. No, there had been too much misrepresentation already. As much as she needed someone to talk to, to reassure her, she valued Phyllis too much. The guilt of it all must be on her shoulders only.

“Callie?” Phyllis’ voice cut into Callie’s thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

“I’m sorry, Phyllis. Wool gathering.”

“That’s okay. I was just wondering if you noticed Seth often has a sad look on his face lately?” She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing more than nostalgia, knowing this will be his last wagon train.”

“Has he . . . has he mentioned what he plans to do after he gets all of you, uh, all of us, safely to Oregon?”

“No, not really. He did mention something to Jacob once that he has some ranch land and a stake in a small business, but I don’t know if he said where. Wouldn’t you think it would be Oregon?”

“Yes,” Callie said absently. So Seth already had something waiting for him at the end of the trail. Maybe he had a “someone,” too. The thought filled her with a deep sadness. Was this the confirmation she was looking for? A sign she was doing the right thing?

Callie bit her lip, then in a small voice asked, “Does Seth have someone waiting for him?”

“I don’t know. Jacob seems to think there is someone. Seth once said the woman he’d fallen in love with was a woman of courage.” Phyllis smiled. “I’m not sure what that means, but I would think a man of Seth’s strength and character, not to mention good looks would have no problem finding just who he wanted.”

“No, of course not,” Callie muttered.

“Evening, ladies.” Seth’s voice, coming from behind, startled them.

She and Phyllis looked guiltily at each other. Surely he hadn’t overheard them discussing him.

He wore a puzzled expression as both women blushed and stuttered their response.

“Callie, did you get you letter posted at the soddy?” he asked.

“Uh, yes, I did.”

“Good. I imagine your fiancé will be glad to get it. He must be worried about you.”

“My fiancé?”

“That’s who you letter was to, wasn’t it?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course, to my fiancé.”

Phyllis faced her with a frown.

Callie swallowed. She’d told Phyllis the letter was to her aunt. There had been no letter to a fiancé.

Before Phyllis could open her mouth to voice a question, Callie shot to her feet. “Gosh, I forgot I left bread rising. It’ll be up and over the pan if I don’t get it punched down. See you later tonight, Seth. Well, maybe not. I have several more things to do before I turn in.” She was babbling, and she knew it. She also knew she had to get away from his questions.

“Phyllis, would you mind coming with me? I’ll get you that pan you asked to borrow.”

“Pan? Wha—”

“The, uh, the cake pan.” And before Phyllis could throw out any more questions, Callie grabbed her hand and pulled her along, leaving Seth standing in the trail.

“Evening.” She called the farewell over her shoulder, and quickly covered the distance to the sanctuary of her wagon.

Once there, Phyllis jerked her hand from Callie’s grip.

“Okay, Callie, explain. Cake pan, my foot.”

“I didn’t want Seth following us so I had to think of something. Callie told the half-truth.

“And what would be wrong with Seth following us? He’s been to your wagon many times.”

“Phyllis,” Callie said as she threw back the canvas flap and stepped into the wagon. “I have something to show you. Something we probably need to keep to ourselves for the time being.”

“Callie, you’re beginning to worry me.” Phyllis followed close behind.

Callie was in the process of shoving a barrel to the side when Phyllis saw the large chest it had hidden. She blinked her eyes and peered closer, recognizing the handwriting on the side.

“Mother’s dishes,” she said in awe. “Callie?” She pointed to the chest, her hand shaking. “Mother’s dishes?” Disbelief was etched on her face.

Callie smiled at Phyllis.

“They’re yours. I had room,” she said simply.

“Oh, Callie.” Tears sprung to the woman’s eyes. “I don’t have the words to thank you.”

“None are needed, Phyllis. You’d have done the same for me. When we know all danger of too heavy a wagon is passed, we’ll load them back on your wagon. Until then, I’ll keep them safe from harm.”

Phyllis bent down and reverently ran her hand over the chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Callie, you’ve been a source of strength and a dear, dear friend. I’ll never forget your kindness—not ever.”

Callie didn’t venture from her wagon that evening. But next dawn, as she prepared the morning coffee, Seth rode up.

She swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t see her heart beating in her throat.

“Morning, Callie. Missed seeing you last night.”

“I, uh, I had a lot of chores. Everything was dirty, needing washing, and . . .” Her voice trailed off.

He leaned over the saddle horn, a bucket in one hand and a fist full of flowers in the other.

“Roses,” he said, extending them. “Wild roses and thorny as hell. But the smell is so darn good, you don’t mind bleeding to get them.” His grin was infectious and Callie couldn’t help smiling back. She took the bouquet and held them to her nose.

“Mmmm, they do smell heavenly. Thank you, Seth. That was so thoughtful of you.” She took several deep breaths then glanced up at Seth, busily sucking the side of his hand.

“Thorn?” she asked.

“Several. Dang things ‘bout ate me alive. Oh, here.” He pushed the bucket toward her.

Peering inside, Callie’s eyes lit up. “Berries. Currant berries?” She reached for one of the purple berries and plopped it in her mouth. “Yum. Oh, Seth, I haven’t had currant berries for ages. Thank you.” She looked wistfully at the full bucket, then back at the man, the hint of a smile on his face, as he drank in her pleasure.

“Do we have to leave Ash Hollow today?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“Because,” she went on, a teasing lilt in her voice, “I’d make these into jelly.”

“Sorry, Callie. We’re right on schedule. Not foreseeing any delay, we’ll reach Oregon before the snow falls.”

“Currant jelly on warm bread? I’ll save the heel for you and smother it good,” she couldn’t resist coaxing.

“Stop.” He laughed. “My mouth’s watering. How about a compromise? We’ll stop early enough tonight you’ll have time to bake that bread and make jelly, too. Fair?”

“No.” She pursed her lips into a pout, but she couldn’t hold it for long. “Oh, yes, it’s fair. Not what I want, but fair.”

He leaned closer to her upturned face. “Do I still get the heel?”

“Now I don’t know, Mr. McCallister. I was thinking I might have to give it to Onnie Simple.”

“Onnie Simple? That big blowhard?”

“Well, he does have redeeming qualities.”

“Oh yeah? Name one.” Seth’s eyes twinkled.

“Well.” She squinted up her face. “He has a way with words.”

“Huh?” Astonishment broke out on his face. “Words? The only words that come out of his big mouth are cuss words. When he isn’t cussing, he’s complaining. When he isn’t complaining, he’s accusing me of not doing my job. When—”

“That’s what I mean,” Callie broke in, a laugh in her voice. “He has a way with words. I didn’t say they were nice words, but you have to admit they’re usually loud and freely given.”

Seth threw back his head and laughed. Callie made him feel like no one else could. She lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders and, at the same time, made him glad to be alive. She was a precious jewel. A sassy, precious jewel.

He spurred his horse. “The heel, Cassie. And, lots of jelly.”

Callie watched him ride out of sight. Then she looked down at the bucket of berries and again lifted the roses to her nose. Another memory to store. Another heartache to add.

Seth kept his promise; they stopped early. During the noon rest, Callie put the bread to rise and washed the berries. Her heart sang each time she replayed the start of the day, and the handsome man who had taken time to pick her flowers and berries.

She felt like a peasant paying homage to a king as she carried a basket filled with loaves of warm bread and a crock of currant jelly to the Monroe’s campsite. Seth would be joining them for supper.

Hearing her approach, Phyllis lifted her head up from the campfire, where she stirred a bubbling pot. Wearily brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, she smiled. A look of extreme fatigue crossed her face, then as quick as it came, it was gone. She placed her hand in the small of her back and walked toward her.

A wave of fear clutched Callie as she peered closely at her friend. Phyllis had not bounced back after their rest at Ash Hollow. In fact, she seemed to be moving as though under a heavy load.

Callie put her arm around her shoulders. Was Phyllis thinner?

“Hello, my friend,” she said.

It was a tossup who was the more startled when Phyllis laid her head against Callie’s shoulder and began to cry. Callie glanced quickly around, thankful no one else was present to witness this strong woman’s breakdown. Awkwardly, she murmured comforting words, not knowing what else to do. For long moments, Phyllis’ sobs rent the air. Finally, they grew farther apart until, giving one last shudder, she raised her head, and, breaking away from Callie’s embrace, furtively wiped at her eyes.

“Oh, Callie. I’m so sorry.” She gulped, then fumbled in her apron pocket and removed a handkerchief. “I don’t know what came over me.” The words were muffled by the cloth as she wiped at her tear streaked face. “I’m just . . . I’m just . . . Oh, Callie.” Tears again filled her eyes.

Callie broke from her trance. She took Phyllis’ arm and gently led her to a log.

“The beans . . .” Phyllis protested.

“I’ll watch the beans. You sit down. I’m going to get you and me a cup of coffee and we’re going to sneak us the first slice of this warm bread while you tell me what’s wrong. You’re sick, aren’t you?” Callie moved to the coffee pot, dreading the answer. Phyllis had become the sister Callie never had. Any age difference was dissolved by the hardships shared. Phyllis offered a steadfast strength. What would she do without her?

Stop it
, she chastised.
Don’t be so selfish. This isn’t about what will you do, but what can you do. What you can do is to be here for this kind and wonderful woman during whatever illness or misfortune that has befallen her.

Hands shaking, Callie quickly poured two cups and carried them over.

“Take this.” She held out the tin cup. I’ll cut us a thick slice of bread. Jelly?” She forced a smile, trying to act as if this was any other night and they were catching a few moments of peace before the men appeared, hungry for their supper.

Phyllis stopped twisting the handkerchief and took the cup.

“No bread, Callie. Definitely no bread.” Phyllis swallowed hard. “Just the thought of it makes my stomach do flip flops.” Realizing what she had just said, she stumbled over the next words. “Oh, darn. I don’t mean your bread . . . Oh, Callie, you know I’m not saying anything is wrong with your bread. Why it’s the most delicious . . . Oh, darn.” And the tears began anew.

Callie put her cup on the ground and took Phyllis’ hands in hers. They were cold as ice.

“Phyllis.” She knew her voice held the fear she’d been trying to quell. “You’re sick. Your hands are like ice. I’m going to get Mrs. Franklin. She’ll know what to do.”
Oh why can’t I be as good at knowing what to do for sickness as I am about rolling out a flaky crust?
“You sit here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Callie jumped to her feet only to be stopped by Phyllis’s restraining hand on her arm.

“Sit down. I’m not sick. Well, I am sick, but not bad sick.”

“Phyllis, you’re not making any sense.” Cautiously, she lowered herself to the log, searching Phyllis’ face. “Either you’re sick or you aren’t. Do you know what’s wrong? I’ll stay by your side. I’ll tend you no matter what. I’ll . . .”

Phyllis gave a small laugh, and a sweet smile broke across her face.

“Callie, you are a true friend and I’ve frightened you. I was hoping no one would notice and I could keep my secret until, well, until we reached Oregon City. But, I didn’t count on being such a crybaby. Last time I wasn’t. Well, I don’t think I was,” she said musingly, “but that was so long ago.” She paused, a dreamy look in her eyes. “A long time ago.” She fell silent, lost somewhere inside herself, oblivious to her friend’s restless squirming.

“Phyllis. I’m trying to follow you, but you’re leading me down a crooked path.” What was her friend going on about?

Phyllis blinked, looking as if she’d just returned from somewhere other than a hard log alongside a smoky fire.

“Callie, what I’m about to tell you must remain a secret between the two of us. You have to promise me that you’ll not breathe a word of this to Jacob or Caleb.” She squeezed Callie’s hand. “Promise me, Callie.”

“Phyllis, I can’t. I can’t promise not to tell them. What if you need help? What if I can’t care for you? What if you get worse? For heaven’s sake, Phyllis, you can’t hold me to a promise like that.”

“I can and I will.” Phyllis’ voice was stronger. Determined. “Either you promise me that you’ll keep what I’m about to tell you between us or I’ll keep what’s ailing me to myself.” Her lips tightened as she waited for Callie’s answer.

Callie looked everywhere, but at her friend’s tear-streaked face.

“Hurry up. Make your decision. The men will be here and we’ll not have another moment’s peace.”

“All right.” Callie’s voice was so low the words were muffled by the evening sounds.

“I didn’t hear you.” Phyllis leaned close. “What did you say?”

Callie took a deep breath. “I said OKAY.” The word burst from her lips. “Okay, Phyllis. I don’t like it. I’m afraid, I’ll admit that. Everyone thinks I’m strong, that I have courage. Ha.” She gave a short laugh. “I look at your face, the hollows around your eyes, and any courage I have takes wings and flies off into the night. I should have noticed something was wrong. I should have noticed you haven’t been yourself, but I’ve been so caught up in my own worries, I’ve neglected my friend. For the love of Pete, tell me what’s wrong. And, Phyllis, don’t spare me. I will be strong. I’ll pull all the courage I have and I’ll—

“I’m expecting.” Phyllis interjected, breaking into Callie’s passionate plea.

Callie nodded. “Okay. You’re expecting. What?”

Phyllis laughed.

“Not what. Who. A baby, Callie. I’m expecting a baby.”

“Oh my gosh. A baby. You’re going to have . . . you’re expecting A BABY.”

“Shhh.” Phyllis put a finger to her lips and peered into the darkening shadows.

“Oh, Phyllis.” Callie paused, her friend’s words sinking in. “A baby,” she repeated, as if saying it again made the fact more real, more believable. “When? How? Oh never mind that question.” She blushed. “I know the answer. But, hurry, tell me everything. Oh, Phyllis.” She gave the smiling woman another hug.

“I’m not exactly sure when, but I think in about four months. I felt movement yesterday, so I think I’m close to five months along. I’ve been sick most mornings, but the last few weeks it seems to be lasting longer in the day. Some days I’m fine and others—” She glanced away, as if embarrassed by her revelation. Then she straightened her shoulders.

“Jacob doesn’t know?” Callie asked quietly.

“No, and he musn’t.”

“Why, Phyllis? Jacob loves you. He has to know.”

“No, he doesn’t have to know, Callie. Remember your promise,” she admonished. “Jacob has enough worries without adding me to the load.”

“But surely this would be a pleasant worry.”

“I’m old, Callie. Too old to be having a baby. It’s been seventeen years since Caleb. Seventeen years.”

“It’s none of my business . . . No, it is my business. How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.” The words came quietly into the clearing. “Jacob and I married early and Caleb appeared within that first year. We were so excited. You see, we wanted children. Lots of children. Jacob and I have so much love between us. Plenty to share. But”—sadness crept into her eyes and her voice—“it wasn’t to be. I lost three babies, never carrying one more than three months. Then no more until . . .” Her hand unconsciously touched her stomach. “Until this precious one. At first I was afraid to believe, after all these years. Then I became angry.”

“Angry?”

“Angry that now, at this time of our life, when Jacob needs a helpmate more than ever, I’m bringing even more burdens to his shoulders. I’m tired. I’m sick at my stomach. I’m a cry baby.” She gave a depreciating laugh. “And, I’m old.”

“You stop that, Phyllis Monroe. You might add to your list of faults that you feel sorry for yourself. I’m ashamed of you.”

“What?” Phyllis was shocked at Callie’s words.

“Well, as harsh as it may sound, you are feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve been given a miracle and what do you do? You throw it back in the Good Lord’s face. I know, just from looking at you, now that my eyes have been opened, that you are extremely tired. And, the way you turned up your nose at my bread and fresh jelly, I can take your word for it that you are sick at your stomach. And, judging from my damp shoulder, I can believe you are a crybaby. But.” A smile broke out across Callie’s face. “For some reason you and Jacob have been given this new life to bring into your new life. Oh, Phyllis, I envy you.”

“It is a miracle, isn’t it?” Phyllis asked softly. “It’s so good to share this with you. I’ve hugged this secret, these fearsome thoughts, to myself too long. But, I’m right to worry. We’ve still got a long ways to go before we reach Oregon City. I don’t know what my condition may be as I get closer to my time.” Tears again flooded her eyes, spilling unstopped down her cheeks. “I know Jacob. He won’t go on. I’ll stop us from reaching our dream.”

“Yes, maybe you will. But won’t you be presenting him with another dream? A better one? Oregon isn’t the Promised Land. There has to be land every bit as good for farming and raising cattle between here and Oregon City.”

“I’m sure there is.” Phyllis’ voice was hesitant, not yet willing to give ground in her thinking. “Seth was telling him only yesterday about a beautiful valley outside of South Pass City. According to Seth, the grass is knee high and the soil black and rich, just waiting to be tilled.”

“Well, there you have it.” Callie mumbled the response while all the while her mind latched on a few, magic words. “Outside of South Pass City.” What if . . .? No, she didn’t dare think it. Didn’t dare hope that Phyllis might homestead nearby South Pass. Didn’t dare hope she wouldn’t have to bid this special friend goodbye, never to see her again. Because of her falsehoods, she would not even be able to tell her goodbye. She would have to keep up the charade of staying with the train as far as Oregon City, until it pulled out of South Pass and, unbeknownst to everyone, left her behind. She wouldn’t allow herself to hope, to think ahead of the joy, the blessing of having Phyllis, Jacob, and Caleb close by. This was just another thing she didn’t dare share with Phyllis. Her plans must still remain hers and hers alone.