Unconquerable Callie (19 page)

“Jacob,” Callie called, her eyes lining up the wounded man again within her sights. “Get his rifle. Then tie him up. One move,” she said to Onnie, “and the next one won’t go through your hand. I don’t miss.” She bit off each word.

“Caleb,” Jacob shouted.

“Right here, Pa.” Caleb’s eyes were big.

“You tie him up like Callie said. I’ll back this young lady up should anyone else think fit to challenge us.” He motioned ominously at the crowd that had gathered at the sound of shooting. “Truss him up good, son.”

“Got your back, Callie. You, too, Jacob.” Henry Henry stepped down from his horse, where he’d ridden in unnoticed. He faced the crowd. “Anyone here of a mind to lead this train other than Seth McCallister?”

Heads shook.

One man called out, “Seth’s our leader, Henry. We got no quarrel with that.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Onnie here said there were some of you willing to back him. That true?”

A few guffaws rang out. John Benson stepped forward.

“Callie, Jacob, Henry, Onnie’s a blowhard and a liar. Ain’t none of us so foolish as to follow him. I say we cut his wagon loose and let him go on his own.”

A chorus followed. “Yes. Cut him outta the train.”

“No,” said Henry Henry. “You don’t turn your back on a rattler.”

“I’m hurt,” moaned Onnie. “Cain’t you see I’m a pain’n?”

“Oh, wrap a rag around it, Onnie. You brought this on yourself,” a voice hollered from the crowd.

Caleb ignored the man’s pleading and saw that the ropes binding him were good and tight.

“He can go in his wagon,” Henry ordered. “I’ll tie my horse to the back and drive his team. We’ll turn him over to authorities once we reach Fort Laramie. Now, get ready to move out. We’ll be taking the route Seth planned, through the gap. Won’t be stoppin’ for noon, so pack something to eat on the trail. I scouted ahead. Seth wasn’t pullin’ no punches when he said it was treacherous in spots. But, hell, we made it down Ash Hollow Slope, we can make this. By nightfall, we’ll look over our shoulders and see Scotts Bluff behind us. Callie?”

“Yes, Henry.” She stepped forward and rested her rifle by her side.

“Best you ride at the front of the train. Someone has to call out ‘Wagon’s Ho.’”

Callie ran to her wagon and threw back the flap. She stepped inside and knelt down by Seth, ignoring Mrs. Franklin’s questions.

“Seth,” she whispered to the unresponsive man, “we’re moving out. I’m leading us through the gap. Not me alone,” she amended. “Henry Henry has scouted ahead and we’re going to be fine. Please, Seth, please, wake up. We need you.” She bent closer. “I need you.”

She straightened up. “Mrs. Franklin, I know you’ll be wanting to see to your family before we move out. I’ll have Phyllis relieve you.”

“Getting’ mighty full of yourself, Missy,” Mrs. Franklin muttered. “I don’t take lightly to being bossed. Don’t think you’ll be getting’ rid of me, Callie Collins. This man needs lookin’ after and I’m the one to do it.”

Callie laid a hand on her arm. “I know you’re the one to do it. If I appear bossy, it’s just that I’m worried and . . . afraid. The only steadying force I have to lean on is you and your knowledge. Please hurry back. Caleb or I’ll be driving the oxen.”

Callie stepped out of the wagon, leaving behind a slightly mollified woman.

Clumps of sagebrush were everywhere and their pungent odor permeated the air. Several complained that the smell was making them sick. Callie loved it. To her, the smell of the sagebrush was clean and welcoming. Sage after a rain had a story of its own, one of open land, sweet fresh air, and promise of beautiful tomorrows. But right now her mind was on Seth. Seth being okay. Seth riding out in the front and Seth joining her for coffee. She would never take any of that for granted again. South Pass. She would tell him the truth. Then let the cards fall where they may. She would confess how she had tricked him into letting her join his wagon train. But she wouldn’t tell him she loved him. No. That would have to remain her secret. After all the lies, why would he believe her love?

She pushed the thoughts aside. Later, she would bring them to light, but right now she had a job to do. She would be by Henry Henry’s side, doing Seth proud, helping in any way to move the wagon train safely through the gap.

By evening, ‘treacherous’ was one word Callie hoped she’d never hear again. She didn’t know which was worse, the howling winds that seemed alive with menacing voices telling them they were trespassing in their domain or the narrow, rocky gap.

In the most precarious spots, Callie felt Seth’s presence. Felt him there beside her, guiding her and Henry Henry, lending them his calm influence.

A grateful peace settled over the camp as the exhausted travelers circled the wagons for the night. Henry Henry had been right. They’d all looked back over their shoulders at Scotts Bluff.

Callie was making her way back to her wagon from the Monroe’s with two plates of supper in her hands, when Henry Henry appeared, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“He’s awake, Callie, and askin’ for you. Got him a bear of a headache, but he’s arguin’ with Mrs. Franklin about staying put. My money’s on that ole gal.” Laughing, he hurried past her to his own supper.

Callie couldn’t believe her ears. Seth was awake. He was asking for her. Unbelievable joy bubbled up inside her. The day’s bone tiredness rolled off her back and the night sounds were singing a melody of their own. She couldn’t move fast enough.

Opening the flap, she shoved the plates at Mrs. Franklin, and made her way to his side.

“Don’t go wearin’ him out now. He just opened them eyes a few minutes ago,” Mrs. Franklin scolded, barely inching aside to give Callie room.

“I won’t,” Callie whispered, her eyes full, as she looked deeply into Seth’s face. He was still pale, the bandage wrapped around his head stark and white against his dark hair. But his eyes, those penetrating blue eyes, were open and his mouth wore a smile, when he saw the woman he’d been asking for.

“Understand,” he said weakly, “you’ve taken over my job.”

“No,” Callie stuttered. “I-I—”

“Henry Henry said you hollered out real loud and clear this morning. Got the wagons moving.”

His words came in short gasps, but his eyes twinkled.
Good Lord, he was teasing her
. Putting her on the spot, putting her in her place like no one else could. She wanted to hug him and cry out her joy at seeing a spark of the Seth she loved.

“Hmmpf,” Mrs. Franklin snorted from her spot on a trunk. “She’d like to think she’s in charge.”

Seth winked. “Heard you trimmed Onnie’s feathers a might.”

Callie wrinkled her pert nose. “That man is no good. He just couldn’t wait. Here you were lying so still, at death’s door, and . . .”

Seth wasn’t listening. His eyes were closed, his breathing even.

Callie looked over at Mrs. Franklin. Her eyes spoke her fear.

“Just restin’. He’s weak. Lost a lot of blood, but he’ll mend. Now, why don’t you eat your supper afore it’s cold and I’ll take me a walk. I’ll stop by the Monroe’s and see if there’s more of that broth. You can feed him some next time he wakes up. Don’t mean to bark at you, Missy. It’s just my way.” And with that, she left the wagon and the healing man to Callie’s safekeeping.

Seth dozed, waking when Henry Henry came by and shooed both women outside, while he took care of Seth’s needs. Mrs. Franklin muttered that she’d nursed men before and didn’t need no help, but Callie was relieved, angry at herself she hadn’t realized Seth’s discomfort.

He slept fitfully during the night. Callie never left his side, offering him broth and sips of cold water whenever he opened his eyes. Mrs. Franklin snored the night away, oblivious to their whispered conversations. Come morning, Mrs. Franklin changed his bandage and smeared more of the foul smelling salve on the wound. Callie took one look and turned away, but Mrs. Franklin announced it was looking just like it should. She mixed something up from her bag and made Seth swallow it, telling him it would ease his pain. The look on his face made Callie laugh, as he turned away from the nasty drink.

Mrs. Franklin knelt beside him, her voice sharp. “Here now. You drink every drop. I know it’s nasty. Medicine’s supposed to taste bad, else it ain’t no good. It’ll ease that headache.”

“Give it here,” Seth muttered. “I’d drink horse pee if I thought it would help my head. It feels like a blacksmith’s taken up shop there—hammers, anvils, and all.”

“Now don’t you be usin’ foul language around me, Seth McCallister,” Mrs. Franklin huffed.

Callie turned her head to the side, to hide her grin. When she looked back, she caught Seth’s eye and he gave her a conspiratorial wink.

When Mrs. Franklin left the wagon, to get some breakfast, Seth grabbed Callie’s hand.

“Callie,” he groaned, “help me. I can’t take another night of her snoring. It’s like trying to sleep through a tornado. My head’s killing me, and her ‘not sleeping a wink’ isn’t helping. Please get Henry Henry to come tonight.”

“Seth, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will. You’ve hardly left my side. But we both know you can’t stay alone with me.” He lowered his voice. “Someday, I’ll tell you what your courage, your unconquerable strength has meant to me. Some day, when I can talk without the top of my head feeling like it’s coming off.”

Just when he thought she couldn’t do another thing to endear her more to him, she up and did it. He wished he’d been able to see her stand down Onnie Simple. He gave a small chuckle and then winced in pain.

“You have to sleep, Callie. There’s dark circles under your eyes. You’re leading the train during the day, and watching over me by night. Get Henry, okay?”

She nodded. She’d get Henry, but she wouldn’t leave.

Henry came that night and the next two. Mrs. Franklin was persuaded to return to her wagon and family, but right after breakfast, before “Wagon’s Ho,” she returned to take up her vigil.

Henry chuckled at playing chaperone, but Callie ignored his jokes. It was comforting to have him near, and she managed to get some desperately needed sleep.

Seth got stronger with each day. His headaches lessened and he became restless and irritable. Mrs. Franklin refused to let him up and about until she determined he was well enough to return to duty. Until then, he’d just have to chafe under his forced rest.

The day he was allowed up long enough to join them at the evening meal was a day for celebration. Everyone gathered and pooled their food. Henry Henry had shot a fat doe and the air filled with the aroma of deer steaks frying, coffee brewing, and biscuits fresh from the Dutch Oven. A meal worthy of a king was offered.

Mrs. Franklin shared the position of honor with Seth. She modestly repeated, “It weren’t nothing” over and over, while enjoying every minute of the celebration and her exalted position as the train’s healer.

A chastised little boy was brought forward and made to apologize to Seth. He hung his head and tears clogged his voice as he asked forgiveness. Seth told him he’d never been shot in the head before and hoped he never was again. He gently told him guns weren’t made to play with, and then reached out and shook the boy’s hand, saying he knew it was an accident.

“When I get on my feet, Luke, you and I’ll go hunting and you can see how we use guns, and why they deserve our respect.” Seth held the boy’s hand and looked him in the eye.

“Really, Mr. McCallister? Really? I can go hunting with you?”

Seth smiled, remembering his first hunting trip. He’d love a son of his own to take hunting, to teach how to track, how to read the land, and how to respect his fellow man. He glanced up at Callie and saw her watching him.

After supper, he addressed the group. “Folks, I want to thank you. When you joined this train you were twenty individual wagons. You’re not that anymore. The last few days have shown what I hoped would happen. You’re a wagon train headed to Oregon. You’re a team pulling together, helping each other, reaching out with a steady hand when needed. You didn’t need to be asked, you just did what you knew was right. Thanks to you”—and for a brief moment, he focused on Callie’s face—“the train moved on as scheduled. In fact, I think we’ve made time. We’ll be at Fort Laramie earlier than planned. You’ll have a chance there to pick up any supplies you need, and to mail letters back home.” Seth took a deep breath.

“I regret to say we’ll be turning Onnie Simple over to the fort authorities. I’m sorry about that incident, but thankfully his plan was thwarted.” He smiled at Callie. “That’s another benefit of always having your rifle handy.” Laughter followed and several called out Callie’s name.

“Let me tell you a bit about Fort Laramie. Get you prepared for this experience. It’s a busy place. You’ll see the American Flag flying high above the fort walls way before we get to there. You’ll also encounter Plains Indians. Their teepees will be scattered around the fort. They’ve co-existed peacefully, but that don’t mean they aren’t testy. The more wagon trains they see coming through, the more tension and resentment there is. That’s why we have Fort Laramie. It’s the first garrisoned post in Wyoming and is manned by a special regiment of mounted riflemen. It’s a military post purchased by the army for four thousand dollars and was first called Fort John.” Seth wiped his forehead with his sleeve and seemed to sway in the night.

“Seth,” Jacob called out, “grab yourself that log there and sit down. Phyllis, please get Seth another cup of coffee.”

Mrs. Franklin marched toward the center of the circle. “Mr. McCallister. You’re over doing. I don’t condone you being up for this long.” She puffed out her ample bosom with her own self-importance.

Callie held herself. She wanted to run to Seth’s side, but she had no right. She didn’t dare show her true emotions. She bit her lip watching him gingerly lower himself to the log and accept the coffee.

“Thank you, Phyllis. I’ll just be a few more minutes, Mrs. Franklin. A few sips of this good coffee will fix me right up.” He sat still, gathering his strength.

“Now where was I? Uh, like I said, the army bought it and renamed the fort for a French fur trader called Jacques La Ramie.” He grinned. “Little bit of history here, but Fort Laramie is one of the major stopping points on our journey. We’re in Wyoming now. I think we can stop boiling our water after we pass the Fort.” Cheers rose from the camp. “But,” Seth cautioned, “don’t do it until I say so. Like I said, the swifter waters seem to prevent the cholera germs from spreading, but we’re apt to encounter a few more brackish streams. They may look clear, but don’t take the chance.”

Heads were nodding in agreement.

“I don’t plan on us staying but overnight at the fort, so get your buying or trading done quickly. It’s a busy place and prices are high. You folks can be easy pickings for some of the no goods that hang around forts. If you don’t have to go into the fort, don’t.”

People started talking among themselves. Many made decisions then and there to stay with their wagon. Seth felt the concern mingled with disappointment. They’d looked forward to going into Fort Laramie as a break in the monotony.

“As we travel through Wyoming, take time to notice how wide it is. The sky seems to stretch forever and I don’t think there are brighter stars anywhere. There’re thousands of them in the sky at night and the Big Dipper is real easy to spy. In the far horizon, you’ll see mountains still snow-capped. It’s a beautiful country, folks.

“After Fort Laramie, our next stop will be Independence Rock. There’s a saying among wagon train captains that if you don’t reach Independence Rock by the Fourth of July, you’re behind schedule and risk running into snow before Oregon. Well, we’ll be there by the fourth.” A cheer went up from the crowd. Seth rose shakily to his feet.

“I thank you for the delicious supper. I do believe those were the best deer steaks I’ve ever tasted. Now, before my doctor,” he smiled at Mrs. Franklin, “decides to give me any more of her foul tasting medicines and knock me out, I’ll go back to the wagon. One more day of rest and I’ll be leading the train.”

With those words, he got to his feet and shaking several of the men’s hands, made his unsteady way back to Callie’s wagon. He’d done what he’d set out to do. He shared what he knew about Fort Laramie. He let them know he was alive and well, and he gave fair warning he was taking back his train.