Vow Unbroken (17 page)

“I'll tell you what. You can just replace the mule, too, and let's forget the tobacco. I'll throw that in.”

“Why, thank you, sir. You're a true gentleman.”

He smiled a you're-welcome, tipped his hat, then returned to his new friend.

A dreadful heaviness she hadn't even realized was weighing
her down suddenly lifted. She could breathe easy again. It really was going to happen. They would be on the trace tomorrow morning. She wished she had thought to ask Henry to get a commitment on how quick the Caddo would return with his friends, but he was already deep in conversation with the man, making her the best deal he could.

In almost no time, Henry stood and walked back long faced. “He wants one more thing.”

“Oh, my word!” She'd already agreed to pay so much. Why couldn't God make him accept what he said he would take? If she agreed to whatever this latest demand was, would he ask again for more? “What else could he possibly want?”

“The rest of your cake.”

She laughed with relief at the request.

“He wants to carry it home to his wife and children. He has three little ones.”

“Fine, fine then. Did he happen to say how soon he could get back here?”

“In the morning.”

“Early?”

Henry shook his head. “He has a way to go, so probably more like midmorning.”

“And he's certain he can get us unstuck?”

“He's sure. Evidently, he's done it plenty before.”

That night while lying next to her daughter on Henry's plush furs, she considered that at four cents a pound, or twenty dollars a bale, she'd just spent almost four bales! She wholeheartedly regretted not having thought things through sooner. She should have just let Henry dump the cotton, or even thought of it herself the first day. She would have at least saved the two days and most likely been with the train by now,
visiting with Shannan and Mrs. Foglesong, and Becky could be playing with Sassy.

Poor Henry, giving up his musket and mule and tobacco, too. He was such a good man, so unselfish. She liked that; most would have told her she needed to pick a mule no matter what. She so appreciated him for considering her sentimentalities. If she only got four cents in Jefferson, after paying him back she'd barely have enough to buy Blue Dog for Becky. That was her one ray of hope.

He did say out of his own mouth that everything he had was for sale, so that meant she could buy the dog. But what if it meant selling some land? Was Blue worth that?

T
HE INDIAN AND HIS ENTOURAGE
showed up later than Sue expected, more midmorning than early, just like Henry had said, whooping and hollering. But her heart still rejoiced that her wagon would soon be freed from its hole. By the end of the day, she'd be on the trace again and on her way to Pleasant Mound. There was still a chance she could catch up with the train and be so much more at ease the rest of the way to Jefferson.

Six Caddo rode in on three horses that all wore collars. The man who'd showed yesterday and one other came afoot. Henry and Levi got the four mules hitched to the wagon. Brown Mule, Henry's rifle, and the tobacco were set off to the side ready for payment once they successfully pulled her wagon out of the creek.

The Indians quickly fastened a rope to each side of the three horses' collars, for a total of six ropes. One Caddo stayed on each of the ponies. Henry and the five other Indians waded to the back of the wagon—she supposed to lift and push—and Levi drove the team. Sue and Becky watched the show from shore. Everything was packed and ready to go.

It was quite obvious the Caddo had done this before; they worked with amazing precision and teamwork until all sat at the
ready. One of the riders gave what sounded like a victory whoop, and everyone went into motion.

Levi slapped the mules. “Go! Go! Pull, Dex; come on, Mil!” Leather popped and wood creaked. The men heaved and groaned. The animals snorted and strained against the weight of the load.

For half a breath, nothing happened. Only a lot of effort exerted with no results.

“Lord, help, please.”

Then suddenly, the wheel came free, and the load rolled across the creek all the way up onto the dry shore. She and Becky held hands and jumped up and down together cheering. The Indians hollered and held their arms in the air celebrating with her. Levi's smile stretched wide. Then tears blurred Sue's vision, and she couldn't see more than the men's forms.

“Thank You, Lord, thank You.”

To her amazement, Henry sloshed out of the water and to the wagon, where he retrieved two handfuls of his jerky. He passed it out to the savages as though the high price she had already paid wasn't enough. They all kept on eating and talking and celebrating way too long, definitely past the time that he ought to have been seeing to getting her back on the trace.

“Levi!” She called her nephew from the group of men, where he was laughing and obviously enjoying himself.

He ran over. “Yes, ma'am?”

“Looks to me like Henry might just party the whole day away, and I do not intend to spend one more night here. I want you to start hitching Dex and Daisy back to the other wagon. Maybe he'll take the hint.”

“But, Aunt Sue—”

“We've lost two full days and most of this one sitting on the
bank of this forsaken creek. The wagon's unstuck now, and I'm ready to go! I can't believe Henry isn't.”

Levi turned and got busy doing what she said. She knew he loved her all right but also that she tried his patience. As soon as he was old enough to build himself a cabin and be his own boss, she figured she'd lose him for sure.

BACK ON THE TRACE,
Henry drove the second team and pondered the Caddo. He really liked the lot of them; they were his kind of people. Drove a hard bargain, laughed a lot, and worked hard at keeping their word. If he'd been willing to call their bluff, he might've struck a better deal, maybe all the tobacco to keep his long gun. He did hate to part with it since Old Hickory himself had given it to him. But no way would he have asked Levi to give up his daddy's or Sue to let go of her late husband's.

What he should have done was to buy her load of cotton and dump it into the creek that first morning. If he'd known for sure there would be a buyer for his seed, he would have, but if there was none, it would have taken a big chunk out of his honey money to pay her off. Getting into the cattle business would take a right smart stack of coin.

He smiled. He did like the fact that she owed him now. A mule and a brand-new gun. Not that the musket President Jackson had given him wasn't a fine piece, but he'd been hearing about a new one, a Hall breech-loading rifle, a fifty-four-caliber with a round barrel almost thirty-three inches long. Might even be one for sale in Jefferson.

Would he really do that to her, though? His gun was old after all.

The late afternoon sun warmed him whenever it peeked
through the wall of trees, but it didn't hold the midsummer burn he hated so much. Past ready for the heat to break, he looked forward to the fall colors showing up as he always did this time of year. Autumn was by far his favorite season.

The boy sat next to him. Henry figured that he and Levi were about as tuckered as the animals were well rested. Even the snake-bit one appeared fine. Since it would be a short day anyway, he figured everyone should ride. Pretty soon, the grade dropped down, and the tall hardwoods and pines disappeared. Other than a smattering of cedars, nothing but bois d'arc lined the trace on both sides. Their fat, ripe, green horse apples dotted the ground everywhere.

But he had no time and no storage and no place to wash them.

About as quickly as the thorned trees started, they ended, and the trace began a gradual incline. After a mile or so, he handed the reins to the boy. Levi looked up at him. “How come you had to give up your mule and your musket and your tobacco, but she didn't give up anything?”

“Oh, I'm not married to any of it. We needed help.”

“What if she can't sell the cotton in Jefferson? What are you going to do then?”

Henry chuckled. “I don't borrow trouble. Today has enough problems of its own. We'll let tomorrow—and the day after—take care of their selves.”

“Well, tell me this. You said yesterday that you could've sold Brown Mule for seventy dollars. Why didn't you? That's more than he was worth, wasn't it?”

“Value's often hard to measure. He was going to be worth more than that to me; it wasn't like I could go and replace him. Every mule and ox in the area was already pressed into service pulling cotton on the trace.”

“Couldn't you have sold him and then bought him back when everyone got home again? Or at least another animal just as good, and made a profit?”

“For a fact, I could have. But then I had no intention of hanging around until they came back. My intent was to get myself to St. Louis.”

“Why St. Louis? Ain't that up north?”

“To sell my seed. And yes, it's up on the Missouri.”

“I saw you stowed some sacks away. What kind of seed you got?”

“Bois d'arc.”

The boy sat back. “You're kidding me! Who in their right mind would pay good money for horse apple seeds? Especially when a bois d'arc ain't nothing more that a thorny trash tree. Those Northerners must be crazy.”

“Up in the high plains, there isn't much wood to build fences. Bois d'arc makes great hedgerows. Keep 'em trimmed down, and, after two years most animals won't go through.” He held up his hand, forming a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “After three, they can't.”

“So after you gather the horse apples, what do you have to do?”

For the next mile or two, as the trace rose higher, Henry explained the laborious task of harvesting the bois d'arc seeds. Each step of smashing the lime green apples, picking out the seeds, washing them, then washing them again and drying them. He gave Levi the whole story, even included a few tricks he'd come up with.

The boy didn't ask, and Henry didn't volunteer that he figured his sacks of seeds to be worth more than all of his aunt's cotton. Nowhere was it written a body had to tell everything he knows.

T
HE WIND SHIFTED,
and then freshened to fifteen or twenty miles an hour. The temperature dropped as many degrees or more. Henry stood and glanced over his right shoulder. A wall of boiling black clouds filled the sky, moving rapidly from the northwest toward them. The wind swirled and gusted hard right at him, like a Union Jack eight-pounder, but he didn't see any way to dodge this one.

He looked to Levi. “Hold on.” Henry slapped the reins hard. “Let's be to it, mules. Storm's coming.” He needed to find a big tree on level ground before that rain came.

He pulled next to the other wagon. Sue gave him a puzzled look. He nodded to the right. “Best we find somewhere flat.”

She looked for herself, then sat back down and draped an arm around Rebecca. Leather slapped across the team's backs. “Oh, my! Slow down, wind, give us time!”

For a good two hundred yards, the wagons raced side by side. He didn't spot anything that would offer protection. Finally, at the top of the knoll, he found it. He hollered toward Sue and pointed. “On the right. Let's put the wagons together under that big oak.”

She nodded and reined in the mules, turning and pressing hard on the brake. He matched her, and the wagons stopped side by side, right under the tree, exactly like he planned. He intended to tell her what a good job she'd done, but first, he needed to get everything set up before the rain reached them.

For the next few minutes, he concentrated on untying and then retying the canvas covers to where the wagons were double-tarped with a couple of feet of open space between them. He then went to help Levi, who worked at unhooking and hobbling the animals. Once they were seen to, he and the boy joined the ladies.