Vow Unbroken (3 page)

“Sir, it's a matter of trust. The journey will be long, and you and I will be traveling together alone. I don't know you all that well personally and am concerned about appearances, of course, but, well, if I knew you were a Christian, I could believe you are an honorable man. Certainly, you get my gist.”

“I can assure you, ma'am.” He took his hat off and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “On my mother's grave, I have never acted inappropriately with any woman in my life.”

She stepped toward him and took his hand. Hers seemed so small around his. “Oh, Mister Buckmeyer! Your mother
didn't recover? I had no idea. How could it be that I hadn't heard a word of it? When did she—”

“Three weeks now.” He pulled his hand away. No need for her to be acting like she cared. “Don't fuss about it, she's gone.”

“But I do feel so bad for being ignorant of that horrible news.”

“Don't.” He cleared his throat and stared at the woman, looking past her handsome features; maybe he was wrong about her after all. “She's gone and that's that.”

“But—”

He held his hand up. “Please, I don't want to talk about her.”

She stiffened, almost like he'd slapped her. “Of course.”

“So, do you have the room?”

Her shoulders relaxed a bit, and her face softened. “What is it you have again?”

“A hundred pounds of bois d'arc seed, fifty pounds of tobacco, and fifty or so hides.” He stroked his chin and wished he'd shaved that morning. “Past that, provisions.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She held up a finger and smiled. It brightened her face. No one could deny she was a handsome woman, even in trousers. “And I also have a condition, if you please.”

“Tell me.”

“My stipulation is that we can sleep on your furs at night. Would that be agreeable?”

“No problem, unless the rains set in.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“And when were you planning on leaving, ma'am?”

“As I said, my wagons are loaded and waiting. I'd like to leave this afternoon. How long will you take to get ready?”

He laughed again. “Mercy, Widow, no grass grows under your feet, does it?” He looked around. “Will in the morning do?”

She dipped her head slightly, bouncing her hat against her leg in a quick rhythm. “My name is Susannah, sir; friends call me Sue. You may call me Mis'ess Baylor. My wagons are at the Dawsons' and ready to go. I've borrowed Larry's horse to come here and thought to leave as soon as I've returned the animal. I realize this is short notice, but—”

“Ma'am, it's going to take me the better part of the day to get ready.” Was he making a mistake? She for sure was a powerful demanding woman. “Mule needs packin', got to gather up some things, then walk to the Dawsons' place to meet up with you.”

She looked him square in the eye. “Walk? Why in Heaven's name would you do that? Where's your horse?”

“Smokehouse.”

She looked puzzled.

“Broke his leg; had to shoot him.”

“Why that's terrible. But he's in the smokehouse?”

“Made jerky.”

Her face soured.

“One never knows about needing meat, Mis'ess Baylor. Why should the buzzards get my horse?”

“Well, I suppose you wouldn't really need him on the trace anyway.” She glanced toward the smokehouse. “You'll be driving one of my wagons, but I'll thank you not to be offering any of your jerky along the way. To me or my children.”

“Children?” Her kids hadn't crossed his mind. “You're not thinking of hauling them to Jefferson, are you? Thought you said we'd be alone.”

“I did, I did, but I meant as the only adults—we'd be the
only adults traveling. Certainly, I intend to take my children. For Heaven's sake, what else would I do with them?”

Henry exhaled, considering all the trouble youngsters could conjure up. “Don't have someone who you can leave them with? Like Mis'ess Dawson?”

“Levi is fourteen now and will be fifteen come December, so he'll be a big help. And Rebecca. She won't be any trouble. She's a wonderful little girl.”

“I'm certain that's true if you say so, but—”

“They'll be fine, I assure you.” Her expression told him the matter had been settled—at least in her mind. Independent and stubborn. “Now, I really don't want to have to wait for you to walk all the way to Larry and Elaine's.”

He shrugged. “I don't see another option.”

She rubbed her brow and sighed. “We'll just have to ride double. Now how can I help you get ready? I do not like wasting time, and we are burning daylight.”

He walked to the shed and retrieved his saddlebag. He held it out toward her. “Go rummage the kitchen for whatever you think we should take.” Before she reached the cabin, he hollered after her, “You'll find two brown jars of honey under my bed. Be sure to grab both of those.”

She turned toward him with raised eyebrows. “Have a sweet tooth, do we, Mister Buckmeyer?”

He removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, then replaced it and grinned. “Doesn't everyone?”

He watched her hips sway until she disappeared inside. Maybe that's why his mama thought women shouldn't wear trousers. He turned and set about getting Brown Mule packed. A month's worth of jerky got stowed in whether the widow wanted to eat it or not. He'd definitely not be saying more about
it to her. After his animal stood loaded and waiting, he did offer half the beans and corn bread that he'd warmed for dinner earlier and shared his first meal with his new boss lady.

With his drying seeds stored out of the weather and the unwashed ones in the shed along with his unfinished furs, he raked the fire embers. He checked on his honey jars' packing—wouldn't want them to break—and smiled to himself. If only she knew what hid inside, she for sure wouldn't have made that honest-day's-work comment.

He tied his mule's lead loosely around the bay's saddle horn and then climbed aboard, noting the sun. Should be enough light to get to the Dawsons', but no way would he agree to set out this evening.

He lowered his hand toward her. She caught his arm below his elbow; he grabbed hers, then pulled her aboard. He pressed the gelding with his knees, and his new, most unexpected adventure began. Sure had been one strange day, and even though he'd been up all night checking his traps and fishing, and it'd been more than thirty hours since he slept, he'd never been more awake.

“Come on, Blue Dog.” The canine barked and ran ahead of the bay.

“You're not planning on taking that mangy creature all the way to Jefferson, are you? Wouldn't you be better served leaving him here to guard your place?”

“No, Blue Dog is the best I ever had, ma'am.” He urged the bay to an easy trot. “He'll carry his weight on the trace, but don't worry. I wasn't planning on charging you any extra for his services.”

The widow very obviously did her best to hold herself away from him as far as she possibly could. She talked nineteen to
the dozen, telling him what she expected and the route she wanted to take, Cuthand to Pleasant Mound to Captain Daingerfield's Springs; same way he'd have gone. She spoke of pushing ahead, traveling every possible extra hour of the day. They'd be following behind the wagon train in the hope of catching up and joining the larger group. The brim of her hat poked the back of his neck now and again.

She suddenly fell quiet; he felt her press more and more into him. The hat's brim rode up his neck to rest against his own. Before the ride was half over, she snuggled in close, leaning all her weight against him. Her small arms encircled his waist. He figured she had fallen asleep and was thankful her prattle had ceased.

But the whole time, he couldn't help thinking what a fine-figured woman rode against his back. Even if she did wear men's clothes.

He decided the best thing to do was set his mind on what all he would need for the journey on the trace.

O
NCE THE DAWSONS
'
PLACE
came into sight, he leaned back, moving her slightly away from him. “Mis'ess Baylor?” He raised his voice a notch and rocked. “Mis'ess Baylor! We're almost there.”

She immediately pushed away, avoiding all contact except for her hands on the saddle. With no mention of her little nap, she cleared her throat. “Well, looks like we've made very good time. I pray that becomes our habit on the Jefferson Trace.”

A little girl came running toward the horse. He slowed the gelding to a walk.

“Mama! Mama!” She ran with both arms stretched out as though wanting to be picked up. “You're back! Aunt Elaine helped me and Sophia Belle make tea cakes for dessert, but we had to wait for you to eat one.” The child was a miniature of her mother, with a halo of curls around her dirty face.

He stopped the horse and offered his hand. Sue took it this time and slid off the side against his leg. The little girl leapt into her arms. She seemed too big to be carried, but what did he know? Her mama went to giving the child's smudged cheeks a spit bath. He remembered how much he'd hated those.

A gangly, half-grown boy followed a few feet back, eyeing him with a look of suspicion.

The young lady had only curiosity in her eyes. “Who's he, Mama?”

Sue sat her daughter down and kneeled beside her, looking up. “Rebecca, Levi.” She gestured toward the boy. “I'd like you to meet Mister Patrick Henry Buckmeyer. He's hired on to help us get our cotton to Jefferson. We'll be leaving tonight.” She stood, still holding the girl's hand. “Mister Buckmeyer, this is my daughter, Rebecca, but we call her Becky. As you might know, Levi is my nephew.”

He tipped his hat. “Miss Rebecca, very nice to meet you.” Then he nodded to the boy. “You, too, Mister Levi.”

The girl laughed and smiled the same bright smile he'd seen earlier on her mother's face. “You're funny.”

“Well, thank you. I consider that a compliment, little miss.” He backed the horse a few steps. “Why don't you and Miss Rebecca go on up to the house, ma'am; I'll see to the animal.” The boy had started walking away. “Hey, Levi, you interested in helping to rub down Mister Dawson's gelding?”

Levi turned and stopped, but gave no verbal answer. Instead, he stared with a hint of disgust. The kid must have a burr under his saddle.

Sue waved the boy toward the barn. “That'd be wonderful. Thank you, sir.” She smiled again. She might be bossy, but he sure enjoyed that smile, and she seemed rather stingy with them. “And thank you, Levi.” The widow nodded to the youngster, obviously urging him to go and help, then turned back to Henry. “Elaine said she would save us some supper, but I don't intend to stay too long. We can get a few miles head start on tomorrow, so don't be lollygagging in the barn, please.”

Larry walked out, passing her on her way to the house. “Did I hear you say something about leaving tonight?”

“Sure did. I'm more than anxious to get on the way. I do appreciate the use of your horse, Larry. Mules still hooked to the wagons?”

“Heavens no, Sue. Me and Levi unhitched 'em soon as you left this morning. They're out grazin'. It's getting pretty nigh onto dark; you don't need to be leaving tonight anyways.” He walked on and tipped his hat brim as he approached. “Henry, good to see you. The wife'll sure be greatly relieved that you agreed to accompany our Sue.” He took the gelding's headstall. “How's things been out your way? Any bear?”

Henry dismounted. “Fine. Haven't seen any bear, but I took a couple of big cats last month. Mated pair, I figure.”

Larry shook his head. “How's your mama doing?”

“She passed three weeks ago.”

“Oh, no. Sorry to hear that. Sister Buckmeyer was one fine lady.”

“Thank you.” Henry held the reins up. “I'm happy to cool the bay down and get him settled.”

“No. You go on in and get some supper. Levi can help me.”

Henry chuckled. “Sure am proud you gave Mis'ess Baylor's animals a good day of rest.”

“Yeah, I figure they'll be needing it all right.”

He headed on up to the house. The women were in the middle of a conversation as he stepped onto the porch. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he hesitated.

“Well, I wanted to leave tonight.”

“Too late now, I guess.”

“Bosh! Henry wanted to wait till tomorrow, too, and now
he's getting his way. I sure hope he won't have any trouble taking orders from a woman after we leave.”

“That why you put those britches on? I hope you'll at least try not to be too bossy.” Mis'ess Dawson sat Sue's plate on the table. “Either way, he's a godsend.”

Henry didn't know about being sent, seemed to him it was his decision to come along. He knocked with one knuckle. Mis'ess Dawson looked up and smiled. “Come in, come in, Mister Buckmeyer. I'm fixin' you a plate right now.”