A Man for Temperance (Wagon Wheel) (7 page)

“Did he suspect you?”

“Benny said something about my being there, but I think the marshal thought he was just drunk. Where have you been?”

“I had to stake Judas in the deep woods. I found a good spot. People know that hoss, and if they see him, we’re dead.” He threw himself into the meal, and she sat down and watched him sip from a coffee cup. When he was through, he pushed the plate back, and she asked, “When can we leave, Thaddeus?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. You’re going to have to buy some oxen and a good wagon.”

“Won’t our wagon do?”

“No. We’ve got to have a Conestoga wagon in order to make the trail.”

“I don’t even know what that is nor how to buy oxen.”

He leaned forward and studied her. “I want you to wait two or three days. By that time the noise about my escape will die down some. Then you go to that preacher and some of the rest
of the men that have been trying to get these kids back East. You tell them that you’ve located a man to take you back.”

“Well, they’ll want to know who it is.”

“Just tell them you got a man that was well recommended to you, but that he won’t be here for a few days.”

“I don’t want to lie.”

“I don’t want to go over that trail back East with a bunch of kids either, but I’m doing it, ain’t I?”

“All right. I think I can convince them.”

“They’ll be glad to help you. They all have been worried about getting those kids back. They might even help pay for it. Be sure you get four of the best animals that can be bought and a first-class wagon.”

“All right, Thaddeus, I’ll do it.”

He sat there for a time holding the coffee cup in his big hand. She studied him carefully, for this was the man in whose hands she had put her life and the lives of the babies she wanted to get to their relatives. He was a man roughly thrown together, like a machine, it occurred to her. There was no fineness or smoothness about him. His mouth was wide and was expressive only when he smiled, and his heavy nose swelled somewhat to accommodate wide nostrils. His hair was black and rough, and his eyes were a strange shade of blue-gray she had not noticed before. He looked up and saw her studying him and said, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Thaddeus. I’m just anxious to get started.”

“Don’t you realize we could all get killed on this trip?”

“No, we won’t.”

“God tell you that, did He?”

“In a way. He wouldn’t lead me into all this just to get me killed.”

“Well, I’m proud you’ve got God for a friend. We’re gonna need a friend like that on the way.” He got up and pulled his hat down squarely. “I’ll come in tomorrow night.”

* * *

TEMPERANCE WAITED THREE DAYS, and during that time she was aware the excitement over the jailbreak had faded. Jailbreaks were not uncommon. As soon as she sent word to the pastor that she wanted to see him, Blevins came by, and she said, “I found a man, Pastor.”

“You mean somebody to take the children?”

“Well, I’ll have to go with him to take care of the children.”

“Who is he?”

“Just a man I heard about. He’s on another job right now, but he comes well recommended.”

“Has he ever been on the trail? What do you know about him?”

“Like I say, he comes well recommended. Yes, he’s been over the trail several times.” Quickly, to take the preacher’s mind off the mysterious man, she said, “He asked me to get the men in the community to help buy good oxen and a Conestoga wagon.”

“Why, that won’t be any trouble at all. There’s always travelers who leave their wagons and animals here and go by raft. I’ll get the men together, and, Temperance, I think I could even raise some of the money for the outfit.”

“That would be fine, Pastor.”

“Are you sure you want to make this trip? It’s rough.”

“It was rough coming here, but God has told me to get Timmy to his relatives, and I’ve got to do it.”

As soon as Blevins left, Temperance stood there for a
moment. Finally she muttered, “Well, Lord, I guess that was as close to a lie as I can come without actually lying, but You’ll have to forgive me for it.”

* * *

ONLY TWO DAYS HAD passed since Temperance had talked to Blevins, but the men had gotten together and bought six of the finest oxen she had ever seen and a sturdy Conestoga wagon. Blevins and some of the other men brought them to her house. The pastor had been pleased beyond measure. “We’ve got it all stocked up with food. Everything you need for the trail. Silas wouldn’t take any money for it. He says this trip’s on him.”

“I could never thank you enough.”

“When do you leave? When is this man coming? I’d like to meet him.”

“I’m not exactly sure, but we’ll have to leave quickly. I want to get this trip over with.”

“Well, bring him by when he comes. And don’t worry about your place. I talked to the oldest Henderson boy, Todd. He’s only seventeen, but he’s responsible. He’ll come and stay here until you get back. I’ll see to it that your crop is made. You try not to worry.”

Although she had no intention of worrying, Temperance said, “I’ll try, Pastor.”

That night Brennan came in and saw the stock. He went over the oxen in the moonlight and lantern light and looked at the wagon.

“Why, those fellows have done right noble,” he said. “Fine a stock as I’ve ever seen. And I’ve gone over the wagon. It’s just full of food and everything you’d need.”

“Come in the house. There’s something I want to tell you.”

Brennan followed her in, and she turned and took an envelope out of her apron pocket. “I’m going to pay you five hundred dollars to make this trip, Brennan.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Good! You’re learning. Don’t trust anybody.”

“Like you say, I’m learning to look out for myself.”

“Well, we’re probably all going to get scalped by Cheyenne anyhow, but I don’t mind a little extra money.”

“We won’t get scalped,” she said. She looked young and vulnerable, and at that moment he was surprised by the smoothness of her face. She had acquired confidence the hard way, and he could only guess at what cost. No woman could display so much pride without having to suppress great emotions. She kept her lips together, and as he watched her, he got an impression of her spirit. He felt something stir within him in spite of his determination to not like this woman. “Well, I say we leave at dawn. What about your place here?”

“The men are going to take care of it, watch the stock, until I get back.”

“That’s good. Well, I’ll go get Judas and we’ll leave at first light.”

She watched him as he left. Fear came to her, but at the same time a challenge such as she had never known. “I’m going to do Your will, God,” she said aloud, “and You’ll just have to keep us safe.” She looked in the darkness where Brennan had disappeared. “And I pray that You’d save that man’s soul. He needs You bad!”

For a long moment she stood there peering into the darkness, and then she smiled and turned back to enter the house.

THE SUN HAD ALREADY begun to etch a fine line on the tops of the Blue Mountains as Temperance drove the team along the road toward the Benton place. She was still upset over the altercation she’d had with Brennan earlier. He had wanted to be on the road before daylight, but there was no way that she could pick up the Overmeyer children any earlier. Her lips tightened as she thought of how profanely he had spoken, and even as she saw the Benton house, she tried to calm herself.

“What do I care what he says?” she muttered through stiff lips. “He doesn’t care anything about anybody but himself!”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Billy and Rose were still asleep on the pallet she had made for them. Rose was holding tightly to Timmy, with an overdeveloped maternal instinct. Temperance had suggested that Brennan keep the children while she went for the others, but he had merely glared at her and stomped off without even giving an answer.

Pulling up in front of the log house, she saw Carl Benton standing outside, waiting for her. She knew him slightly and nodded, “How are you, Mr. Benton?” Carl Benton was a thickset man with blunt red features and a shovel beard that gave him a rather dignified look. He helped her out of the wagon and for just a moment held her hand. “Miss Peabody, I’m going to warn you one more time. This is a foolish thing you are doing.”

Temperance was not surprised. She had spoken with Benton before, and he had been dead set against her making the trip. She managed a smile despite the turbulence in her breast. “It’s all right, Mr. Benton. I prayed about it, and God will be with us.”

Benton was a Christian himself but also a man of practical instincts. “There’s such a thing as having faith in God,” he muttered as the two of them walked toward the door of the cabin, “and then there’s such a thing as being mule stubborn. Everybody I know of in the community says you’re crazy for going on this trip.”

“Well, I’m glad they finally agreed on something.”

Benton gave her a startled look, then snapped with obvious irritation, “It ain’t nothing to jest about, but I see your mind’s made up.”

“Yes, it is.”

Before they reached the cabin door, Elmus Benton stepped out, herding the three Overmeyer children. She had a harried look of fatigue, and Temperance guessed it was from caring for the children after taking over for the pastor and his wife. The youngest, Bess, was only eleven months old and would be no trouble, but Bent Overmeyer, at the age of six, had the look of wildness about him. He had bright red hair, green eyes, and freckles sprinkled across his face. He was a thickset youngster, not fat, merely firm even at his youthful age. He was staring at Temperance as if she were an enemy of some sort.

Rena Overmeyer, age twelve, had an even more resentful and rebellious look on her face. She had the same red hair and green eyes as the others, but even at the age of twelve was already maturing. She wore a gray linsey-woolsey dress that was shapeless, tied together with a string around the waist, and there was a look of total defiance on her face.

“Hello, Rena and Bent, and you, too, Bess.” Temperance managed to smile. “Are you ready to go?”

“I don’t wanna go nowhere,” Bent said flatly.

“I don’t either,” Rena said.

“Now, that’s no way for you two to talk,” Carl Benton said. “Here Miss Peabody’s going to all this trouble to get you to your uncle and aunt, and you ought to be more grateful.”

Quickly Temperance said, “We’ve got to hurry. We’re getting a late start as it is. Do you have your things ready?”

Rena glared at Temperance and, turning quickly, went back into the cabin followed by Carl. Elmus Benton stared at the door and shook her head in despair. “I declare I’ve seen stubborn, rebellious children before in my life, but never a pair like this! They’re going to drive you crazy, Miss Peabody.”

“Oh, I expect we’ll get used to each other. I want to thank you both for taking care of them. I know it must have been hard.”

“I’d rather take care of a bunch of wild apes,” Carl muttered. “You better think again about this trip.” Benton was still arguing when the two came out carrying bulging feed sacks.

“Just put them in the wagon, children. Here, let me take the baby.”

Bess woke up as Temperance took her, took one look up, and began squalling at the top of her lungs.

“She don’t like strangers,” Rena said coldly as she reached over and took the youngster. “Come on, Bess.”

Temperance made her final remarks to the Bentons, who both warned her again she was making the worst mistake of her life. They almost had her convinced, but as she climbed back into the wagon and glanced back, she saw that the two older Overmeyers were sitting bolt upright staring at her.

“Why don’t you come and sit with me on the seat? Plenty of room.”

“This is good enough for me,” Rena said defiantly.

“I don’t want to ride with you neither,” Bent echoed.

“All right. We’re going to go pretty fast, so hang on.”

Temperance drove the team at a fast trot, hoping that one of the two would speak, but they kept a flat silence. Billy and Rose woke up, and Rose stared at the three newcomers. “My name’s Rose Abbott. This is my brother, Billy. Who are you?”

“None of your business,” Rena said coldly.

“Don’t be mean, Rena,” Temperance said, turning to glance over her shoulder. “This is Rena Overmeyer, her brother, Bent, and her little sister, Bess. You’re all going to be great friends on the trip.”

That had been all the conversation until finally, when they were almost in sight of the farm, Temperance turned and said, “Do you remember your uncle and aunt at all, either of you?”

“Bent don’t. He was too little, but I remember them,” Rena said. “They’re meaner than snakes, both of them.”

“Oh, I’m sure you just don’t remember well.”

“I remember ’em. My uncle beat me with a stick, and my aunt, she just laughed when he done it. I ain’t gonna stay with them. We’re all running off.”

There seemed to be no answer for that, so Temperance tried not to think about traveling nearly two thousand miles with two outlaws like this in her company.

* * *

BRENNAN LIFTED THE JUG in the crook of his arm, tilted it, and drank four healthy swallows. The liquor bit going down. He grinned sourly as he put the cork back in the jug, thinking of
how Temperance Peabody had argued with him about carrying liquor on the trip.

“This ain’t no temperance meeting, Peabody,” he had told her. “Either I get the liquor or I don’t go a step.”

Brennan put the jug back under the wagon seat, then walked to stand beside the lead oxen. “Well, Babe,” he said, “we got a far piece to go. I sure hope you don’t play out.” He stroked the large beast that turned to look at him soulfully. “One thing about it, if you quit on me, we’ll have to eat you, so you watch what you’re doing. All right?”

He had already looked over the wagon carefully and despite himself had been pleased with the sturdy construction. It was one of the better samples of a Conestoga, having been built in Pennsylvania. The wagon was important because it had to be light enough not to place undue strain on the oxen pulling it, yet it had to be strong enough not to break down under heavy loads or under the rough terrain it would have to cover. Most of it was made of maple, hickory, and oak; because of weight, iron was used very sparingly.

He leaned over and examined the undercarriage, which was always the most difficult part of the wagon to maintain. The undercarriage was composed of the massive wheels that were three inches wide with bands of steel about them. He checked over the axle assemblies that included the reach, which connected the two axle assemblies. The hounds fastened the rear axle to the reach and the front axle to the wagon tongue. He shook the bolsters that supported the wagon bed and gave a grunt of satisfaction.

Moving to the back, he opened the lid of the grease bucket, dangling from the rear axle, and he satisfied himself that it was full. The grease was used to lubricate the wheels. Moving to the
front, he opened the jockey box and checked the tools he had carefully selected, including an ax, hammer, augers, king bolts, linchpins, chains, heavy ropes, and other necessary equipment.

Fastening the top of the jockey box, he walked around the wagon. The cover was made of new canvas and was supported by frames of hickory bows. The canvas, tied to the side and extended beyond the bows at either end of the wagon, could be closed by drawstrings. Clambering up in the back end, he checked the food supplies. These included flour, bacon, coffee, baking soda, cornmeal, hardtack, dried beans, and dried fruit. Peabody had added other things he considered unnecessary, such as molasses, vinegar, pepper, and eggs packed in jars of sand. There was also a plentiful supply of rice and tea.

He had argued with Peabody about the cooking utensils; she had insisted on bringing a Dutch oven, kettle, skillet, coffee grinder, a coffeepot, butcher knives, and tableware.

“Fingers is good enough for travelers,” he had insisted, but she had ignored him and packed the things anyway.

Brennan moved then to check the weapons, which he figured were more important than the coffeepot. He had taken the double-barrel percussion-lock shotgun that had belonged to Temperance’s father. He had also added another rifle, a fine .44 Henry, a knife, gunpowder, lead, bullet mold, powder horn, and a bullet pouch. “A fat lot of good these’ll do us if we get jumped by a bunch of crazy-drunk Cheyenne,” he muttered.

He checked the blankets, ground cloths, and pillows and sneered at the tent with the poles, stakes, and ropes the woman had insisted on taking. He had argued that they could sleep in the wagon or on the ground, but she had fought him on this and then had her own way.

The sound of a wagon coming caught his attention, and he waited until she drove in.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” Getting down from the wagon, Temperance gave the names of the Overmeyer children, but Brennan gave them a sour glance, saying only, “I’ve got to unhitch the mules.” He grabbed the harness and led the team off, and Temperance saw that he was even drunker than usual. He wore buckskin pants and a pair of black boots that looked ready to be thrown away. His wool shirt was torn and unbuttoned halfway down his chest. A black felt hat was settled firmly on his head. He drove the wagon to the barn, turned the mules loose, and stomped back to say, “Get in the wagon.”

Temperance had gone to get Ruth the goat. She was tying her to the back of the wagon when Brennan came up with Judas and fastened the horse with a long line. “That goat,” he grinned, “won’t make it, but we can eat her when we can’t get any other grub.”

“We’re not eating Ruth!”

Brennan snorted, “If you’re going, you better get in that wagon because I’m headed out.” Without another word he started toward the front of the line of oxen. He did not look back, and Temperance said hurriedly, “All you children get in.” They scrambled into the wagon seat, and Rena said angrily, “I don’t like him.”

There were no lines to the oxen, a fact that had surprised Temperance. She was accustomed to animals being harnessed and controlled by lines, but Brennan had told her that oxen had to be led by somebody astride the lead ox or walking alongside. Now she watched as he slapped Babe on the shoulder and said, “Git up, Babe!” The big animal lurched forward, and
the others followed suit. The wagon swayed with the weight in it, and as they left the yard, Temperance, who had picked up Timmy, turned and stared at the house that had been her home for so long. A startling thought came to her.

I may die on the trail. Lots of people do. This may be the last
time I ever see this house.
The thought troubled her, and she watched the house until the wagon turned around a group of trees that shielded it. She pulled her gaze away with an effort, and looked ahead, watching as Brennan sauntered alongside Babe, weaving somewhat drunkenly and singing a ribald song he had learned in a saloon. Turning, she looked at the children. Her voice was not quite steady as she said, “Well, we’re on our way to Missouri.”

* * *

THE TRAVEL WAS SLOWER than Temperance had expected. The oxen plodded along in what seemed like a slow walk, and Brennan informed her they were slow but steady. “They can keep going when mules and horses quit, but when they’re played out, they just lay down and you can’t get ’em up with a pitchfork. They’re good beasts though.” He added, “I like ’em better than mules.”

They had been on the road for two hours, and Bent said loudly, “I’ve got to go.”

“Me too,” Billy echoed.

Temperance called out, “Brennan, stop!”

“What for?”

“The children have to go to the bathroom.”

“They’ll have to hold it until we get to Missouri. If we stop every time they want to do business, we’ll never get there.”

“You do what I tell you, Thaddeus!”

Disgustedly, Brennan put his hand on Babe’s head and said, “Whoa now, Babe.” He slowed the beast and said, “Well, hurry up and get it done.”

Temperance took the children into the bushes where they relieved themselves, and as they moved back toward the wagon, she said, “Rena, aren’t you a little bit excited about your new home?”

“No, I don’t want to go there.”