Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
Rachel couldn’t help but think of her father. The woman’s death was the first since she and Wade had joined this wagon train, and it cast a pall of fear and depression over the group.
As soon as the last spade of dirt was turned, the wagons began to roll over the grave hoping to erase its presence from Indians and animals. Rachel urged the oxen over the mound of dirt, helping to pack the earth down, yet feeling disrespectful for driving over the poor woman’s grave, even knowing it was for the best.
Toby and Grace skipped beside the wagon. Becky walked with Emily, her friend. The young woman was a pleasure to be with and Rachel could only hope her presence would somehow influence Becky. Mary rode beside Rachel, watching Daniel as he slept on a quilt.
“How can he sleep with this wagon jostling so much?” Mary asked as she grabbed the side of the wagon to keep from being pitched out. “I’d give my right arm to sleep through the night like that.”
Rachel glanced at Mary. Dark shadows circled her cornflower-hued eyes, giving her the appearance of a blue-eyed owl. “You’re not sleeping through the night?”
Mary looked away and shrugged. “No. After all the work I do around camp every night, plus driving the team most days, you’d think I’d sleep like a bear in winter. But I keep waking up in the middle of the night, anxious and worried.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think my fears are silly. But then the doubts start in and…” Mary bit the inside of her lip, then whispered. “Ethan comes back to camp late each night, and sometimes disappears in the middle of the night.”
“What for?” Rachel asked. “Is he checking on the livestock or taking the late watch?”
“I don’t know,” Mary replied.
Rachel glanced at her friend and for the first time noticed the lines of strain and worry evident around her eyes and lips.
“Have you asked him what he’s doing?” Rachel queried.
“He shrugs his shoulders and tells me not to worry. Which, of course, makes me worry more.”
“Oh dear. No wonder you look exhausted.”
Mary turned to face Rachel. “It’s more than just his disappearing at night. Marriage is so…difficult. Ethan is not the man I thought he was.”
Rachel stared out at the rolling prairie before them. Ethan had not turned out to be the man she’d thought him, either.
“I’m sure he loves you. He’s probably taking over watch for one of the other men and doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“No. It’s more than that. I don’t think my husband loves me. I’ve watched you and Wade. Ethan and I never cared for each other that way. He never looked at me the way Wade looks at you.”
Rachel glanced at Mary to see if she had stars in her eyes. What was the woman referring to? Had she and Wade played at being married so long that not only had they convinced everyone they met, but they were beginning to convince one another?
“Mary, sometimes things are not as they appear.”
“Huh! Your husband gazes at you constantly as if he’d like to carry you off to your wagon, away from prying eyes.”
Blood rushed to Rachel’s face. “That’s ridiculous.” But Rachel couldn’t help but wonder if Wade really looked at her like that.
“How do you keep the fire in that man’s eyes?” Mary asked; then she quickly said, “Of course, you’ve only been married a short time.”
“Ethan looks at you the same way,” Rachel replied, anxious to get off the subject of herself and Wade.
Mary laughed, the high sound almost hysterical. The noise died away and a sob escaped her.
Rachel reached out and touched the sleeve of Mary’s dress. “Are you all right?”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears, though she tried valiantly to restrain them. “I don’t know. You say that Ethan looks at me with love in his eyes, and he tells me he loves me, yet something is wrong.” Mary ducked her head, wringing her hands in her lap. “I think there’s another woman.”
“Mary!” Rachel gasped. Wade’s voice haunted her memory, reminding her of their conversation regarding Becky.
Becky, wouldn’t would she?
“I’m sorry, I must be exhausted to say such a thing,” Mary said, wiping away her tears. “The heat and the dust are wearing me down, for me to have such awful thoughts. Please forgive me, Rachel, for saying anything. I should have kept my crazy illusions to myself.”
Rachel reached out and squeezed Mary’s hand. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re my friend. The men are just as worn out as we are. Things will be better once we arrive in Oregon.” Fear gripped her tighter than her hands clenched the reins.
Becky wouldn’t sleep with a married man. Would she?
* * *
A thousand stars lit the evening sky, their brightness shining across the darkness. Most people had already bedded down for the night, but Rachel was anxious. The conversation with Mary earlier in the day stayed fresh in her mind.
Everyone was safely accounted for. Everyone but Becky.
Wade took the first watch. Grace and Toby were already in bed, worn out from the long day.
Mary had taken Daniel into her wagon for the night. Taking care of a baby would keep her mind occupied.
A coyote howled in the darkness, the sound frighteningly lonely.
Since the wagon trail had stopped for the evening, Becky hadn’t returned. She’d spent the afternoon walking with some of the other women, but tonight Rachel had searched the camp, unable to locate her sister.
Her mind refused to contemplate where Becky might be—and with whom. Finally, as the moon climbed toward its highest point, Becky came strolling into camp as if she were returning from a social. She hummed a perky tune under her breath as she skipped along, unaware that Rachel sat there, waiting.
When she saw her sister, the song on her lips suddenly died, the skip in her step slowed.
“Why are you still up?” she asked cautiously.
Rachel said calmly, “I was worried about you.”
Becky laughed. “Didn’t I tell you? The Simpsons wanted me to have supper with them tonight?”
The lie slipped so easily off Becky’s tongue that, for a moment, Rachel was stunned. “No. You didn’t.”
Shrugging, her sister said, “I told Toby. He was supposed to tell you. That boy never can remember anything.”
Rachel couldn’t help but test to see just how far the girl would go. “It’s kind of late for you to have stayed at their wagon.”
She’d passed the Simpsons’ wagon several times during the evening with no sign of Becky. Her sister was lying and Rachel knew it.
“Afterwards, we sat and talked around the fire. They really are a very friendly couple. When they reach Oregon, they’re going to start a farm.”
“How nice,” Rachel said dryly. “You seem to be out quite a bit lately. I’m glad to see you’re making friends.”
“It’s still not like back home. But a girl has to do something for entertainment.”
“I hope your entertainment would not cause anyone harm, Becky.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Becky sounded defensive.
“I know you weren’t with the Simpsons tonight. I went to their wagon. You weren’t there.”
Becky rolled her eyes at her sister. “You worry about every little thing, Rachel,” she replied nervously. “You can put your suspicions to rest. Emily and I went for a walk.”
Rachel enjoyed a sense of relief before the doubts begin to set in. The answer was much too simple. Still, it was possible the girls had gone for a stroll. And at least by being with Emily, she hadn’t been with Ethan. She had to believe Becky.
“I knew you had a sensible answer. Just be careful. I worry about you.”
“Don’t. I can take care of myself,” Becky replied and turned her back on Rachel and sashayed to the tent.
* * *
Several busy days passed and Rachel saw very little of Mary. The trail had once again become extremely difficult, the roads mountainous and rocky as they crossed through an area known as Idaho. Rachel had taken over driving the wagon full-time wary of Becky’s driving abilities on this tumultuous section of the trail.
Wade had offered to drive, but she’d refused, knowing he was busy scouting ahead with Frank and checking on the stock. Toby and Grace walked beside the wagon, while Becky watched over them.
And Rachel watched over Becky.
The last two nights had found Becky sitting around the fire with Rachel and the children. Rachel hoped her talk with Becky had put an end to her sister’s suspicious activities.
A cool breeze ruffled Rachel’s bonnet as she headed the oxen in a northwesterly direction. As August rolled into September, the mountain air was beginning to get cooler, the nights colder.
Wade came galloping up on Sadie, dust flying from the horse’s hooves. The man made riding a horse look like a work of art. Something about his graceful movements that set Rachel’s blood afire, her pulse pounding and her heart skipping into next week.
“We’re about to climb a pretty good incline. Why don’t you let me drive?”
Rachel turned to Wade. “Is it steeper than we’ve gone up before?
“No, but the trail is rocky with worn wagon tracks going up the side of the mountain. I think it would be safer if I drove,” he replied.
With a stubborn shake of her head, Rachel replied, “Take care of the stock. I’m just fine.”
Frank whistled at Wade, motioning he needed help. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”
“I’m quite capable of driving this wagon. Now go away. If I need you, I’ll call.”
“All right, but I’ll be back to help you up the steepest part of the mountain.”
She turned her attention back to the trail and noticed for the first time just how steep the trail was becoming. For a moment, a shot of fear ran through her, and she doubted her ability. But there was no turning back, no quitting now. If she stopped to find Wade, the whole train would bog down, and she could already hear his I told you so.
Still, the wagon in front of her had slowed to almost a crawl, its body shaking as it proceeded up the side of the mountain.
As the incline increased, the speed of the oxen decreased, their necks bulging under the strain of the heavy load. Grace and Toby walked along either side of the wagon, pointing out the best way up the mountain.
With a creak and an occasional sliding sound, the pull of gravity shifted the packed boxes inside the wagon. No matter how many times she checked their cargo, something always seemed to come loose during the day.
Toby called out to her, “Rachel, watch out! There’s a boulder two feet to your left.”
Rachel pulled hard on the reins trying to make the sluggish oxen turn to the right. They moved with the speed of a tortoise and turning them was like changing the direction of mud. Her timing was off a bit and the front left wheel scraped the side of the huge rock, causing the wagon to shudder.
Her heart pounded. That had been a close call; the rock might have tipped them over. She slapped the reins across the oxen’s back, trying to urge them on as they slowed even further. It seemed cruel to use the whip on them, but she couldn’t allow them to stop. Stopping on an incline was much too dangerous.
For just a brief second, she wished she had let Wade drive. Glancing back, she spotted him down at the bottom of the sloop, talking to Mary. At that precise moment, she heard the loud snap of the rope.
She jerked around in her seat and saw the organ tied to the inside corner of the wagon, sway. One of the two ropes lay loose, hanging. Only the second rope kept the heavy instrument from falling out the back.
Without thinking, Rachel pulled on the reins, stopping the oxen. Her mother’s organ was at stake.
Toby called out, “Rachel, keep going. You can’t stop.”
She pulled on the brake and wrapped the reins around the handle, preparing to alight.
“The organ is about to fall out. I have to fix it,” she called.
With a groan, the brakes started to give way and the wagon started to slide backward. The oxen grumbled in fear, straining on their yoke.
Rachel grabbed the reins. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She wanted to jump out of the wagon and tie the organ back up, but was afraid to move for fear the wagon would roll again. And once it started its backward flight, it would never stop.
Wade’s frantic yell broke through her panicked thoughts.
“Rachel, get those oxen moving.”
His horse came galloping up beside them. She glanced at him with indecision. If she moved, the organ would surely fall. If she didn’t move, the wagon would slide back down the mountain.
Wade made her decision. He reached over and whacked the backs of the oxen. “Get a move on!”
Rachel released the brake and popped the reins at the oxen, praying the rope would hold. The wagon slowly started forward.
The second snap sent chills through her. She glanced quickly behind her. The organ swayed and rocked at the back of the wagon like an old man. At this angle, it wouldn’t be long before the beautifully polished instrument toppled out.
“Dammit, Rachel, keep your eyes on the trail!” Wade yelled, his voice harsh and stern.