Unconquerable Callie (7 page)

The river crossing went easy. Just as Callie guided her wagon into the water, Seth McCallister rode up. His body taut as he spared her a glance, then started to move on seeing that she and Caleb had everything in hand.

“Get your boots off, Miss Collins, Caleb,” he called. “Tie them around your neck. Better to have a few cuts on your feet from the rocks than a pair of boots shrunk up until they’d fit a youngun.” He whirled his horse around, not waiting to see if his advice was followed.

Callie and Caleb crossed alongside the oxen, prodding them when needed. Even though the cold run-off waters came to Callie’s waist in spots and took her breath away, she welcomed the impromptu bath.

Her teeth chattered by the time they reached the opposite bank. While Caleb checked the oxen, Callie quickly climbed into the wagon to make sure nothing had shaken loose or gotten wet. Everything was as she’d secured it.

Since she and the Monroe family were one of the first across, Callie knew there would be a wait. She quickly changed into dry clothes and hung her river-washed dress to dry, then went out and urged Caleb to go to his wagon and do the same.

Surely they’d stay here for their noon meal and rest. It was early in the day, but this was an ideal spot to camp for the two-hour rest period commonly taken at noon. Callie thought about freeing her oxen to graze, when a movement at the edge of a line of trees caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on a distant clump of brush that moved. The brush was thick and the surrounding trees looked impenetrable.
There
. It moved again. In fact, several dark bushes were moving.

Out of the corner of her eye, Callie saw Tommy Sanderson go running toward the trees. He had one suspender strap down and was obviously looking for a private spot to answer nature’s call. She smiled to herself. Very little went unnoticed on a wagon train.

Suddenly the dark bushes took shape and Callie’s heart leaped into her throat. The movements turned out to be bears, one very large black bear. In the next second, out from nearby bushes, a cub tumbled. Mama bear swung her head from side-to-side, scanning the trespassers in her domain.

Tommy, intent on his mission, saw nothing but possible privacy. He ran behind a bush just a few feet from a cub. The female bear gave a loud
whuff
, but, like any baby, the cub was curious and moved so that Tommy was between him and the mother bear.

Callie didn’t know if she saw or sensed the mother’s reaction. All she knew was that Tommy was in danger. Fierce protectiveness would rise up in the bear and she would kill anything or anyone that she saw as a threat to her offspring. There were only minutes to act! Any second, Tommy would finish his job and emerge from the bushes.

Heart pounding, Callie started moving toward the bear as it rose slowly to its hind feet, her head a steady swivel as she sniffed the air. The wayward cub sat down on his fat rump and gave out with a bleat.

Callie knew she had to do something before the mother bear decided to attack Tommy. But before she could take another step, the boy’s red head popped up from behind the bush. He froze, his mouth open wide, the gigantic bear only feet away.

Callie walked steadily toward the bear. She measured her breathing and willed a calmness that she was far from feeling. Something inside her told her that she musn’t show fear. She also knew Tommy was in grave danger.

Sensing another presence, the female bear swung her massive head in Callie’s direction.
Yes
.
Keep focused on me.
The hair on the animal’s back rose black, beady eyes focused on Callie and a sour smell filled the air.

“Tommy,” Callie said softy, barely moving her lips. “Do exactly as I say. Don’t speak. Move away from the bush. Side step behind the cub. Slowly. That’s the way. A few more. Now. Back up. Don’t run, don’t.” Callie’s eyes never left the bear while she gave the whispered orders. She dare not blink.

“Are you behind me?” Callie whispered.

“Yes,” came the faint reply.

“Very gently raise your hand and touch my back. Slowly. You and I will step back. Careful. No sudden movements.”

Callie placed one foot behind the other as Tommy did the same. She felt his hand tremble on the small of her back.

“Step,” Callie whispered, “step, step.” Footstep by footstep, the distance grew between them and the bears.

When they were close to the wagons, mother bear dropped to all fours. Callie’s heart stopped. Would she charge?

“If she charges,” Callie said, “run. Run fast. Get help.”

“What about you?” Tommy whispered.

“I’ll be okay.” It was a lie. But lying was what she did best, wasn’t it?

The bear was a mountain of mouth and claws.

Callie and Tommy barely breathed.

Then, as if they were of no importance, the mother bear gave a loud
woof
, turned and, with the cub bounding beside her, disappeared into the dark of the trees.

Callie trembled violently as she spun around and enfolded the small boy in her arms. “We’re okay, Tommy. We’re okay.”

She closed her eyes, her face buried in his hair, her heart pounding.

“Oh thank God. Tommy. My Tommy.”

The boy pulled away and turned.

“Mom.” He broke free and he and the woman ran to one another.

Callie dropped her hands to her side. For the first time, she noticed the crowd, unmoving, frozen with shock, disbelief engraved on each face. Then, a loud oath and the sound of hooves broke the spell. Bent low over his horse’s neck, Seth galloped into view. Parting the crowd, he jerked his horse to a stop. In one fluid motion he landed on his feet, rifle in hand. He raced the distance between him and Callie.

He grabbed her up in his arms, scanned the area, then judging it safe to turn, his back, quickly strode back to the wagons.

“That was a fool thing to do,” Seth muttered in her ear. “You could have been killed.”

Callie hated the weakness that engulfed her. Seth McCallister’s arms were most welcome.

“Well, I wasn’t,” she weakly protested. “I can walk, Mr. McCallister. Please put me down.” But her request was feeble and fell on deaf ears.

Just as they reached the wagons, Phyllis Monroe ran toward them. “Is she all right?”

“Just scared, I ‘spect.”

He sat her down on the nearest rock as the crowd gathered around.

“Here”—Millie pressed a cup of cold water in Callie’s hands—“You’re shaking.”

“Get her a blanket,” Seth ordered.

In minutes, blankets appeared from every direction. Seth took the closest one and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Tommy’s mother and father pushed their way through the crowd.

“How can we ever thank you? You saved Tommy’s life.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Tommy was very brave. I did what anyone would do.” Callie smiled weakly at them.

Voices rose as everyone talked at once, thanking her and giving her hugs. But through the melee one voice reached her.

“We’ll take our noon rest here,” Seth said. “We just had our first close call. There’ll be others. Miss Collins took a risk. It could have ended differently. She acted fast. Thought on her feet.” He looked down at Callie’s pale face and smiled.

Seth squeezed her shoulder and, before he walked away he spoke softly, just for her ears. “Good job, Miss Collins. For a menace, you did fine. Real fine.”

By the time they circled the wagons for the night, Callie had put the incident from her mind. The trail demanded her full attention. Problems arose, you took care of them. Squaring your shoulders, you moved on, ready to face the next complication. No use dwelling on what had happened, or what might have happened. The strong moved forward, and she was determined to be one of the strong.

They had made good time that afternoon, and Seth called a halt a little earlier than usual. Callie was glad of this. She had something that needed to be done before the council meeting.

She begged off supper with the Monroe’s, saying she would fix something on her own. Jacob and Phyllis readily agreed, thinking she needed quiet and rest after the day’s ordeal. However, rest was the last thing on Callie’s mind.

Using the top of a wooden box for a table, Callie quickly put together the ingredients for what she hoped would be admission to a closed circle. She had her Dutch oven warming in a bed of coals and hoped her efforts wouldn’t result in raw dough or blackened mounds. Baking in a Dutch oven instead of a cook stove’s reliable oven was a new challenge. Callie was becoming fond of the thick-walled iron cooking pot with its tight fitting lid and three short legs, the wire handle that made it easy to lift on or off the camp fire. Often it was buried in coals and emerged with ashes coating the lid. It was the mainstay for every woman preparing a variety of meals in the absence of a regular stove.

Callie lifted the lid every few seconds to peer inside and check on her progress. After she removed the first batch from the oven, Callie was smiling. By the time the last batch was lifted out, she was humming. So far, her plan was working.

Callie barely had time to heat dishwater, clean up her mess, and put out the fire. She’d be gone for a while and when she returned, it would be bedtime.

Folding a flour sack dishtowel into a makeshift basket, Callie carefully filled it with cookies. Then, smiling to herself, she left her camp and made her way to the men’s council meeting.

The council was in progress when she stepped up to a vacant log. She entered the circle of men. Seth McCallister stood in the middle and noticed her. A scowl furrowed his forehead. He paused, then continued.

Callie pretended oblivion to the scowl. Every man there stared at her. She calmly unwrapped her dishcloth basket, reached inside, pulled something out, and took a large bite. She chewed blissfully, and every so often her tongue licked her lips, catching sprinkles of sugar.

Just as she finished and was opening the cloth basket again, Seth stopped mid-sentence.

“Miss Collins,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Do you know what we’re doing here?” Seth asked.

“Why, yes, I believe I do.”

“Good. Then you know it’s a council meeting and we’re electing those men who will represent the rest of the train.”

“Mmm, hmm,” Callie responded.

Seth’s jaw clenched. Measuring each word carefully, he slowly asked, “If you know it’s an election of men chosen to represent each council meeting, why, may I ask, are you here?” His voice rose slightly on the last few words.

“Why,” Callie smiled beatifically. “I’m here to represent the women.”

“You’re what?” Seth barked the question.

Like a hive of mad hornets, the buzzing started around the circle. Callie caught words and snatches. “She’s doing what?” “Women? She’s gonna represent the women?” “Mr. McCallister, did you hear . . .” “Never heard of such a thing.” “Ain’t no place for her.”

“I’m representing the women,” Callie repeated, as though only they were present.

“I don’t think so,” Seth muttered. “I’ve had councils, Miss Collins, and believe you me: No woman has ever put in two cents worth.”

“You tell her, Seth,” one of the men said.

“Really?” Instead of being dismayed, Callie appeared excited.

Seth eyed her balefully. “Yes, really,” he said, puzzled by her reaction.

“Why, then I’m the first. Who would have thought it?” She grinned. “The very first, my, my.” Tilting her head and smiling, she happily dug in the basket and again pulled out something and took a large bite, licking her lips in pleasure.

Seth stared. The men stopped talking.

“Well, you can’t,” he started. “Miss Collins . . .”

“Yes, Mr. McCallister,” Callie mumbled through a full mouth.

“You can’t represent the women,” he said half-heartedly, focusing on her munching.

“Why’s that?” Callie asked, unperturbed.

“Because. Because, it just ain’t done. That’s why.” Seth’s statement was met by vigorous nodding.

No response. At that moment, she was busy licking sugar off the tips of her fingers. She glanced up apologetically and wiped her hands on her skirt.

“Miss Collins.” Seth’s body stiffened with the effort to be patient. “May I ask, what in the . . .?” He stifled back an oath. “What are you?” he tried again. “Darn it, Miss Collins, what are you eating?”

“Why, sugar cookies, Mr. McCallister. Warm, just-baked, sugar cookies. Would anyone like one?” She was all-smiling innocence.

“No.” Seth’s bellow was drowned out by a chorus of “Yes’s,” along with a “You bet,” “Darned right,” “Appreciate it, Callie.”

Callie popped to her feet and, with the grace of a grand hostess, opened her sack to every man in the circle. She stopped in front of Seth.

“Please, Mr. McCallister. I really recommend them, unless you don’t like homemade sugar cookies?”

“Course I do. But . . .” Before he could say another word, Callie put a large, warm, cookie into his hand.

She turned her back to the dumbfounded man as he slowly lifted the cookie to his mouth.

“I’ve got plenty for seconds, gentlemen,” Callie said. “As a representative of the women of this train, I take it as my responsibility to see that we have baked refreshments. Would that be agreeable with the council?” She waited, as if the answer were of paramount importance.

“Be more’n all right, Callie. Wouldn’t it, men?” One of the men reached for a second cookie. “You bake cakes, Callie?”

“Mr. Anderson,” Callie addressed the man, “I bake a raisin spice cake that will make your mouth water.”

“Just a minute.” Seth found his voice. “Cakes, cookies, and baking isn’t one of our topics for discussion.” He looked around only to see disappointment on several faces. Jaws were chewing. Tongues were licking.

“Do you men really think it’s in the best interest of the train to have a woman be part of your council?” Seth asked.

Silence.

Finally, one of the men stood up. “Don’t make me no matter. But it should be up to you, Seth. You’re the leader.”

There were mutterings of assent.

Seth sighed. All eyes were on him, especially those of a deep emerald green.

“Mr. McCallister,” Callie said seriously. “I’d like to say something that might help you make your decision. Before long, we will enter Wyoming territory, where women have the vote and women hold positions of importance. Why shouldn’t this wagon train be one of the first to embrace those same rights?”

Seth narrowed his eyes. There were times when you fought and times when you backed down. He looked at the men assembled and saw no discord on their faces. In fact, they seemed downright pleased with the thought of being one of the first to have a woman on the council.

“Okay, Miss Collins,” he said. “I know when I’ve been beaten. Seems you’ve been selected to represent the women on the train. I’ll expect you at council meetings and I’ll expect the same willingness to listen, then comply with my decisions. Just like the men.”

“Of course. I proudly accept this honor, Mr. McCallister. I think you’ll find me a welcome addition to the council. The women of this train need a voice, and I’m pleased to represent them.”

“Yes,” Seth said under his breath. “There’s no doubt you have a voice, Miss Collins. No doubt.”

Callie grinned mischievously as she stepped toward him.

“Another cookie, Mr. McCallister?” She offered up the basket, honey dripping from each word.