Vow Unbroken (5 page)

“Sorry, Mama.”

“It's all right, baby. Let's hurry now.” She mouthed a thank-you, then guided her daughter away. She really should scold Becky more, but disciplining her baby soured her stomach. Besides Rebecca being her only child, the poor little thing had to grow up without her daddy, and that was all Sue's fault.

By false dawn, she waved good-bye to her friends. Her chest practically burst with the excitement of beginning the journey, but Elaine's words kept ringing in her ears like water sprinkling a fire's embers.

Until I see you again.

Would she ever see her best friend again? She had another moment of foreboding. Was taking her cotton on the Jefferson Trace a mistake?

Until I see you again.

She sighed and turned her attention back to the team. “Come on, Daisy. Get up, Dex.”

Elaine waved one more time. “Y'all be careful now. Send news if you get a chance.”

“We will.”

The wagons groaned, and the mules strained to get them moving. Mil pulled with Brown Mule, and Mabel got the day off, tied to the second wagon. They snorted and pawed the earth, and the big wheels rolled.

“Take care of yourselves.”

Henry walked up beside her wagon. His dog wagged its tail following close on his heels.

“You sure are going to be getting tired, Mister Buckmeyer.” Sue glanced down. “I see no reason in the world why you shouldn't ride.”

“For the mules' sake, ma'am. I figure we should save 'em best we can. Every pound they don't have to pull will help.” He didn't look up. “We'll take turns, driving and walking.”

She didn't rightly care for him telling her how it was going to be, but his reasoning was sound and should definitely be implemented. “Of course, we'll all walk a turn. Give us a chance to stretch our legs, too. Would you tell Levi that I'd like him to walk the next hour? Tell him that I said it's to save the mules, please.” Just because she was paying him didn't mean she shouldn't use her manners.

“My pleasure, ma'am.”

After some time passed, her nephew suddenly appeared afoot beside her seat. She didn't know when he'd gotten down and Henry had climbed aboard; they must have accomplished the switch without ever stopping the team.

“It ain't right, Aunt Sue.” Levi looked back.

“Isn't, Levi, there's no such word as
ain't.
” That he ignored his grammar peeved her to no end. “What isn't right?”

“Your man Buckmeyer. He's letting that mangy dog of his ride in the wagon. Invited him up as a matter of fact. Thought you said we needed to save the mules from pulling any more weight than they had to.”

“Yes, that's right.” She tried to look back, but couldn't even see the wagon, much less its driver or his wrongly encouraged passenger. A sudden jolt bumped her hard. “Mercy! I hate those stupid, huge cracks in the ground! Oh, but I
don't want it to rain either, not until we get this cotton to market.”

“Yes, ma'am. Dry as it's been, I seen a few could swallow up a newborn calf.”

“Have seen, Levi. You have seen a few.”

Becky leaned over across her. “Can't you ever learn to talk right?”

“You're treading on thin ice, Bitty Beck.”

“You two stop it.” Sue pushed her little girl back to her own side of the bench, then looked down at her nephew. “You say he called Blue Dog up into the wagon?”

“Yes, ma'am. He sure did.”

“Hey, Levi!” Becky leaned across her again. “Mama's walking next, then I get a turn.”

“You don't need to be walking at all, little girl. You wouldn't even be able to keep up.”

“Can too! I can even keep up skipping. That's what I'll do. I'll skip, and I'll show you!” She sour-puckered her whole face at him, then plopped back down. “Tell him I do get to walk a turn, Mama.”

Sue smiled down at the boy. “Guess we'll have to give her a chance, don't you think?”

He waved her off and ran ahead, then turned around and trotted backward. “It ain't right. You always give in to her, Auntie.”

“I don't like boys, Mama.”

Sue grinned at her daughter. “Well, no one said you had to, but Levi's family. He's not just a boy; he's like your brother. You might get upset with him now and then, but you shouldn't stop liking him. Anyway, how could you? You love him.”

Becky looked up from under her bonnet's brim with a
dreadful serious expression. “Well, he's my cousin and not my brother. And he's mean, too. Loving don't mean you have to like.”

Sue sighed. “Doesn't, Becky. It doesn't mean.”

“Oh.” She looked up and giggled. “Sorry. Don't tell Levi.”

Flicking the reins, Sue looked ahead. Her nephew ducked into the edge of the woods holding on to his hat. “Levi,” she called. “When your time's over, you can take this wagon with Becky.”

He popped back into sight and nodded. “Sure.”

“I'd like to speak with Mister Buckmeyer.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma'am.” Then he disappeared again.

“Where's he going, Mama?”

“Oh, off exploring a little, I guess. You sure do ask a heap of questions.”

“It's how I got so smart. Didn't you know that?”

“I suppose.” She rode in silence a distance, and Sue appreciated hearing a crow call to its friends. “Do you know what I have in my pocket?”

“What? A surprise for me? Will I like it?”

“Oh, I'm sure of it.” She pulled out the wrapped tea cake Becky and Sophia had baked. “Break it in half, and we'll share it.”

Her daughter broke it and handed the smaller half to her, but Sue didn't say anything. “Thank you for sharing, Mama.”

“Thank you for using your manners, my sweet love.”

After eating her tea cake, Becky interlocked her fingers and twiddled her thumbs. “Are we almost to Jefferson yet?”

“No, dear. It will take many days to get there. Why don't you practice your ABCs and your multiplication tables while we ride?”

“Where are we going to sleep? Did we bring beds?”

“Mister Henry has some soft furs he said we could sleep on. We'll spread them under the wagon.”

Her inquisitive mind obviously—and finally—sated, the girl started saying the alphabet, giving a word that started with each letter. Sue studied the trail ahead. What a blessing that the wagon train had cleared it well. The sun almost peeked over the tops of the pines and oaks along the trace. Soon enough, the open prairie would give it a good opportunity to shine down bright and heat things up.

She could hardly wait for the cool weather to come again. First cold front should blow in by the time she headed back home with her pockets filled with coin. It was going to be so wonderful. The wagon bumped her hard again, rolling into and over another crack in the dry black earth.

Her daughter was on
K
and used
crack
for her word.

“C-r-a-c-k.” Sue looked straight ahead, correcting her matter-of-factly. “It's a
C,
not a
K,
baby, although they do sound the same. For a
K
word, what about
kangaroo
? Or
king
?”

Becky gave her one of her I-can-do-it-myself looks. “How. About. Castle?”

“No, that's a
C,
too. And watch your tone.”

“Fine then,
kiss;
that's a
K
.”

She smiled at her precocious daughter. “It certainly is.”

It would be a long day.

Anxious to get down and stretch her legs, Sue started anticipating Levi's return, but the boy hadn't come back into sight since darting into the woods. “Leee-vi.” No response, so she hollered a little louder. “Levi!”

He came running up beside the wagon. “Yes, Aunt Sue?”

“I was wondering. How hard was it changing places without stopping the wagon?”

“Simple enough. Buckmeyer climbed aboard and took the reins. I jumped off. Weren't nothing hard about it at all.”

“There wasn't anything hard,” she corrected. “So do you figure your hour is up yet? I'm ready to walk a bit.”

“Sure. Already took care of my necessaries, so now's fine with me.” He extended a hand toward the wagon and timed the rhythmic turn of the wheels, jumping aboard without a hitch. He climbed up beside her. “Now you; jump on down.”

She carefully half crawled around Becky, holding on, then stood off the seat and teetered on the edge of the sideboard. She examined the terrain ahead. It seemed a long way down; sure didn't look as easy as it sounded.

“Jump. You'll be fine. Bend your knees a little when you land.”

She leapt off. A short muffled scream escaped before she hit hard, losing her balance. She rolled onto the ground, then scrambled up to a sitting position as quickly as possible, flat on her behind with her legs extended out in front. She looked up in time to see Henry trying to hide a smile.

She stretched—as though sitting was exactly what she'd planned all along—until after the second wagon passed, then she rolled over to her hands and knees and pushed herself off the hot, hard-packed ground. Good thing she had on Andy's trousers, even though she knew it wasn't fittin'. She didn't care; a skirt flying up over her head could have been even more embarrassing.

For a long while, she walked behind the wagons. Keeping up was no problem. She wanted to speak with her employee, but waited until she could try and forget him hiding that grin.
Finally, she mustered her courage and hurried her step to walk beside his seat. Sure enough, the dog stretched out on the buckboard, sound asleep, tongue lolling. “Mister Buckmeyer, I thought we discussed the wisdom in saving the mules from pulling every pound possible.”

“Yes, ma'am. We sure did.”

“In that light, I can't see how you think it's fine for that dog of yours to ride in the wagon. After all, I imagine he weighs forty or fifty pounds.”

“Good guess. Forty-five last I weighed him.”

A thorned ivy caught her trouser leg. She twirled to keep from tearing the material. She quickly unsnagged the nasty vine, then pivoted and hurried to catch up with him again. “So then why is that lazy mutt riding?”

“Tonight, when we're sleeping, Blue Dog will be awake and working. After a night or two, you'll not begrudge him a nap or a ride.”

She looked away. Well, no one, not even a mangy old blue dog, should have to work day and night. “So what kind of time do you think we're making?”

“Maybe a mile, no more than a mile and a quarter, an hour.”

“And how much farther do you think it is to Cuthand?”

“Nine mile or so.”

“Will it all be pretty flat?”

“Oh, there's some rolling hills, but nothing too steep. We'll be coming up on the Aikin place around noon. Thought we'd give the mules a rest there, let 'em get a drink, and we can eat some dinner.”

“Good idea.” She shaded her eyes and smiled up at him. “Becky insists that she wants a turn to walk, too.”

He grinned. “I'll keep an eye out.”

Sue sped up and took longer strides until she reached the first wagon. Levi and Becky were singing “Blow, Ye Winds, Blow.” She sang the lead, belting out, “My father's got an acre of land.” Then harmonized to his melody on “Blow, blow, blow, ye winds, blow.” Her daughter had a beautiful voice like her daddy, and Levi did, too. “An' you must dig it with a goose quill. Blow, blow, blow, ye winds, blow.”

Had to be a Baylor trait.

Seemed she'd been walking at least three hours before her turn finally ended. The sun shone mercilessly, and she'd soaked the bodice of her cotton shirt. “Levi, I'm coming up. Think I can get aboard without stopping? I'm afraid I didn't do so great getting down.”

“It's easier getting up, Aunt Sue. I promise.”

“So tell me what to do, and I'll try it. I hate to stop the team, as getting the load moving is the hardest.”

“Yes, ma'am, that's what Buckmeyer said.”

“I don't think it sounds proper you calling Mister Buckmeyer by his last name alone. I don't mind you using his first name, Mister Henry, but a respectful Mister is due as I see it.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

His claim proved true, and she boarded without incident. She wasn't so sure about letting Becky jump, but the girl carried a powerful stubborn streak and usually got her way.

“When you get down, you have to stay in my sight now, or Mister Henry's, at all times. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma'am. But first thing, I've got to find me a tree or a bush because I gotta go.”

“Well, keep the wagon in sight then, and the rest of your turn, you have to be able to see me or Mister Henry, too. If you
can't see either one of us, then we can't see you. Are you big enough to do that? Look at me, Rebecca Ruth.” She waited. “I will not be able to see you the whole time. The wagons will be moving. You cannot run off and forget to keep either me or Mister Henry in your sight.”

Becky stood on the edge of the sideboard with her hands on her hips. “Yes, ma'am, I said!” She leapt into the air. “Whoopee!” Skipping alongside the wagon, she smiled. “I'm going to go find me a spot, Mama. I'll be back directly.”

“I'll count and see how long it takes you.” Her daughter disappeared, and Sue started counting. She didn't like Becky being out of view, but she understood. Besides, she was nine years old, and would be ten next summer. Sue could hardly believe almost a decade had passed since she was born. She shook her head. Double digits; where had the time gone? Ten years.

She rested her eyes a moment.