It was probably a mistake, but despite his anger, he was beginning to believe her. And hell, if it was so important for her to get to California, there’d be no satisfaction in his trying to prevent it. Besides, that way he could keep an eye on her to make sure she lived up to her promise. And she was right: What difference would a few months make?
But he still couldn’t excuse the tactics she’d used; she should have been truthful with him from the start.
Clay walked to the bed and picked up the ring. “What about the theft of my name? Did you even think of anything but your own interests?”
“And I suppose you had my welfare in mind when you came into my room in the first place?” she snapped. “I don’t think so, Clayton.”
“Okay, I admit that was stupidity on my part. You were offering—I reached for it. But you’ve made a mockery of the sanctity of marriage, Rebecca, and no matter what
your
opinion of southerners may be, our parents taught us the meaning of marriage by the example they set, as well as the honor they instilled in us.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Not as much as I am. But you carry the name Fraser now, so I’ll honor this farce of a marriage whether I like it or not.”
He strode to the door, then spun on his heel. “But hear me, and hear me good,
Mrs. Fraser.
As long as you are my wife, you had better honor the name you carry, too—because I’ll kill any man you try to go near.”
“If you’re quite through, I have something more to say,” Rebecca said.
“I’m not interested in listening to any more of your excuses, so save your breath. Garth, let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll have to find a buyer for the ring, so we can dredge up a wagon and team for my
wife.
” He frowned. “Just how
did
you expect to travel if Scott had permitted you to join?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Rebecca said patiently. “I already have a wagon and team.”
The two men exchanged startled glances, then Garth grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the chair. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, Miz Becky, will you show them to us?”
Scowling, Clay followed them out.
Rebecca studied Clay’s face as he looked over the wagon she’d purchased. It wasn’t one of the larger Conestoga wagons, but a farm wagon about five feet wide and ten feet long that had been converted to a covered wagon with treated cloth strung over hickory bows.
“Who sold you this?” Clay asked.
“A couple from Michigan. They decided they couldn’t afford the cost of the food and supplies for the trip, so they’re going back where they came from.”
“They have a damn sight more common sense than you have.” Clay hopped up into the wagon bed. He had to stoop, since the headroom was only about five feet high in the center. The wagon was empty except for a rocking chair and a rectangular box about six feet long attached to one side of the wagon. The box opened from the top for storage, and at night would serve as a bed. Clay pulled out the fur pallet that was rolled up inside of the box and spread it out on top of the box lid.
“Pretty narrow, isn’t it?” he said critically.
“It’s wide enough for me, and that’s who I bought it for.”
“But now there’s two of us. Looks like it’s going to be a pretty tight squeeze.” He looked her over appraisingly. She blushed. “That’s not very funny, Clayton.”
He grinned. “Maybe not. But fun? Oh, yeah. What did this rig cost you?”
“Seven hundred dollars for the wagon and team.”
“What did you get to pull it? Oxen or mules?”
“Six mules.”
“Hah,” he said with a shrug.
“What does that mean?” The man had a way of putting her on the defensive, and she didn’t intend to let him get away with it. “I was told mules are faster than oxen and can eat the prairie grass and sage along the way.”
“That’s true, and you should get along fine with them—they’re as ornery as you are.”
“I’m not the ornery one, sir. You’re the most cantankerous individual it’s been my misfortune to encounter.”
“Does that mean the marriage is off?” He hopped out, knelt down, and peered under the wagon. “How does the underside look, Garth?”
Garth crawled out from under the wagon and brushed himself off. “I’d say it’s built pretty sturdily. There are hardwood brakes and the underside’s in good condition, except for the front axle. Looks like it won’t take too much rough travel, so it’ll have to be reinforced before we leave. All in all, it’s well equipped. A spare wheel, a water barrel, and attached storage boxes on three sides. Who could ask for more?” He grinned at Rebecca. “You made a pretty good buy here, Miz Becky.”
Before she could reply, Clay said, “No doubt. Speaking from experience, the lady looks out for herself. The poor couple from Michigan probably came out on the short end of the bargain.”
Rebecca gritted her teeth. Oh, the man was deplorable! But if she responded, it would only encourage him to be more disagreeable.
“Mr. Scott has called a ten o’clock meeting for those of us leaving with the train,” Clay said. “We’d better get going or we’ll be late.”
Garth nodded. “As soon as that’s over, I’ll work on that axle, and you and Becky can round up the supplies.”
By the time they arrived, the warehouse was filled. They managed to squeeze inside just as Scott climbed up on a makeshift podium and held up a form.
“I think I’ve met each of you personally, but I want the head of each family to sign this form, on which you swear that you will abide by my orders and decisions. Get a copy from Jim Peterson, sitting over there at that table, and hand it back to him after you sign it. The moment we depart, I, and I alone, will be the only one to issue orders. I know there are some former Union and Confederate officers among you men, but think of me as your commanding general now, gentlemen—because your days of issuing orders are over for as long as it takes us to get to California. And while we’re on that subject, let me remind all of you that the war
is
over. Whatever your past grievances, you leave them behind when we pull out of here. As of tomorrow, we are a united unit, and cooperation and goodwill toward one another is the only chance we have of reaching our destination. Anyone who’s not willing to accept this should not join us, because I will not tolerate any violation of this order. You will be ejected at once from the train and not permitted to return. And if anyone commits a crime, the punishment will be as severe as the law would dole out. I will not jeopardize the safety of those in my charge. Does anyone have any questions or problems with what I just said?”
“Mr. Scott, if something happens to you, who’s in charge?” one of the men asked.
“Jim Peterson. Jim and I have made three trips together, and he knows the route as well as I. As does our scout, Joseph Hawkins here,” Scott said, nodding toward the man standing a few steps behind him on the podium. “He doesn’t answer to anything but Hawk.”
Hawk was the personification of how Rebecca anticipated a western scout would appear. Clad in buckskins, he was lean and grizzled, his face leathery and windburned from long hours spent in the outdoors.
“They are both good men and can answer any question you might have once we’re underway,” Scott continued. “But I’ll warn you in advance that Hawk here isn’t too talkative, so don’t expect any long answers.”
“What hostiles will we encounter, Mr. Scott?” a man near the rear yelled out.
“You talking about human ones or nature’s?” Scott asked. “I doubt any Indians or bushwhackers will take on a train this size. But size doesn’t mean a hill of beans to Ole Mother Nature. Between here and California you’ll have to cope with lightning and rain, drought, cold, mountains, desert, and maybe even snow. As for Indians, there’s the possibility of Cheyenne, Pawnee, Sioux, and Ute. Any of them can be trouble if provoked, but in most cases they’ll leave us alone. Don’t go looking for trouble; it’ll find you soon enough.
“Once we’re under way, I’ll draw up a schedule. Every man will be expected to stand night guard unless his wife gets sick. And that’s another thing, folks. I can tell you right now, disease and accidents will claim some of you: Not everyone will make it to California.”
Another question came from the crowd. “Mr. Scott, how do we dress?”
“It’ll probably be warm between here and Fort Laramie, but from there on, you’ll need warm clothing—especially in the mountains at night. If the trip’s smooth, we could hit them as early as the middle of August, but if we hit them much later than that, we could be in for some rough going. We leave the Oregon Trail in southern Idaho, then we hit the desert, with intense heat during the day and cold at night. Figure on four to six months at least. On a really good day we can cover as much as fifteen or twenty miles; on a bad day, none.
“Anyone I haven’t met, please come up and introduce yourself now or later tonight. The first wagon pulls out at six o’clock tomorrow morning. I don’t want a stampede of wagons jockeying for a place in line, so after you’ve signed the agreement form, draw a number from the pot on Jim’s table, and that’ll be your wagon position. Those who draw the low numbers should position themselves near the western end of town, so there’s no delay in starting off.
“Good luck to you all, and we’ll kick off the trip with a dance tonight right here in the warehouse. The grub and drinks are on me, so enjoy the evening. And then, California, here we come!”
His outcry was met with whistles and shouts. Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if they’d all have that same enthusiasm in three months.
As she and Clay signed the form, the wagon master came up to her. “Mrs. Elliott, I made it clear there can be no single women on the train.”
She smiled. “I’m no longer single, Mr. Scott. Clayton and I are married.”
“Is that true, Fraser?” Scott asked.
She prayed Clay wouldn’t reveal how she had manipulated him into marrying her. If the truth got out, she’d be mortified.
To her surprise, Clay slipped an arm around her shoulder.
“Yes, sir. We were married last night. Rebecca and I are old friends. It was my surprise and pleasure to run into her here, of all places.”
“You and your brother signed on as part of my crew, Fraser.”
“I still intend to be, sir. Rebecca understands that.”
“All right. Sure isn’t any way to spend a honeymoon, but congratulations. And I hope the two of you will be very happy.”
As soon as they were outside, Rebecca said, “Thank you for not telling Mr. Scott the truth about our marriage.”
“Well, it would have been just as embarrassing for me,” he muttured. “Let’s get those supplies.”
Garth left to repair the front axle, while she and Clay purchased supplies. Rebecca had already prepared a long list and now increased the amount of several of the items, due to the addition of the two men, even though Clay informed her that the wagon master provided the food for his crewmembers.
He also insisted upon looking over her list. “Do you have a warm coat?”
“Of course. We have cold winters in Vermont, Clayton.”
He gave her shoes a disdainful glance. “What about a sturdy pair of boots? The shoes you’re wearing are useless. There’ll be mud, mountains, and rivers to contend with.”
“Mr. Fraser, it is not necessary for you to concern yourself about my wardrobe. I am quite capable of making those determinations myself. I have been doing so for most of my life.” Rebecca made a mental note to buy a pair of boots.
By the time Garth finished the repair on the axle, they had accumulated the needed supplies. Then the three of them set to work loading the wagon with a camp stool and table, two hundred pounds of flour, a barrel of bacon packed in bran to prevent it from spoiling, one hundred and fifty pounds of coffee, twenty pounds of sugar, fifteen of salt, ten pounds of dried beans, and five pounds of hardtack. In addition, she’d bought ten jars of canned tomatoes, a gallon of molasses, a bushel of potatoes, a peck of onions, a bushel of apples, five pounds of dried peaches, baking soda, cornmeal, vinegar, rice, assorted spices, and a box of tea. Then there were the necessary items of soap, a few medicinal products, towels, dishcloths, bedding, a washbowl, chamber pot, wash boiler, a large kettle, a Dutch oven, a reflector oven, a coffeepot, teapot, a frying pan, a three-legged spider skillet, tin tableware, candles and molds, two lanterns, and cooking and eating utensils. At the last moment Rebecca had remembered to buy a mirror, a clock, pins, needles, thread, and a pair of scissors.
While she concentrated on the stores and cookware, Clay took care of the hatchet, some standard hand tools, a couple of buckets, rope, and extra harness and rein. By the time they finished loading it all, the wagon and storage boxes were filled to capacity, with just enough room remaining for their clothing to be put into the inside box. One final but critical purchase remained—a rifle and ammunition.
“Can you fire a rifle?” Clay asked Rebecca.
“No,” she said.
“I should have guessed.” He walked away, disgusted.
Garth grinned at her. “I’m afraid to ask, Becky. Have you ever driven a mule team?”
She shook her head.
He shoved his hat up on his forehead. “How in the world did you expect to make this trip alone?”
“I’ve driven a team of horses before,” she said.
“Mules can’t be much different.”
“Becky, mules are nothing like horses. They’re about the most stubborn animal you can encounter.”
“Worse than your brother?”
Garth grinned. “You have no idea. If they don’t want to move, they won’t. And they’re mean as hell.”
“Worse than your brother?” she repeated, tongue in cheek, and broke into laughter.
“You have the wrong impression about Clay, Becky,” he said, turning serious. “I love him dearly and I’m proud to call him brother. He’s a little down on women right now, but he’s not unreasonable. He’s always been fair-minded, understanding, and I’ve never known him to bear grudges, no matter what he might say or how it appears to the contrary. My sister and brothers and I have always looked to Clay for advice whenever we’ve had a problem. He’s a good listener, and he puts the interests of the people he loves above his own. So I’m hoping the two of you can work out this situation enough to make the trip bearable. It’s going to be hard enough, without the two of you at each other’s throats. I’ll do my best to try and ease the strain, but you’ve got to do your part, too, Becky.” Then he grinned. “Now, let’s get back to the problem of those damn mules.”
“I know I can handle them, Garth. I’ve always been quick to learn, and there isn’t anything I can’t do once I put my mind to it,” she said confidently.
“I don’t doubt that, judging by how you roped Clay into marriage, honey. You might be wiser not mentioning this to him, so sit down, and I’ll start you out with the basics.”
Rebecca smiled at him. She’d found an ally in Garth Fraser—even if he was a Johnny Reb. It was hard to remember her hatred for them when she was with him. He was patient and understanding—too nice to dislike. But no matter what Garth said, his brother was just the opposite. It was going to be a long few months.
By the time Garth left, Clay had not returned from purchasing the rifle and ammunition, so Becky went to the cobbler shop and bought a pair of boots.
Returning to her hotel room, she sat down on the bed and counted her money. She had just over a hundred dollars remaining. Rebecca lay back on the pillow. She hoped it would last through the rest of the trip.
Awakened by a tapping on the door, she bolted to a sitting position. The room was in darkness, and it took her several seconds to get oriented before she realized the tapping was coming from the connecting door between the rooms.
“Who is it?”
“Clay.”
“Just a moment.”
Rebecca got up and lit the lamp. It was dark outside, and she realized that she must have slept for hours. She unlocked the door and Clay came into the room.
“Aren’t you going to the dance?”
“The dance! Oh, my, I’d forgotten all about it. Maybe you and Garth should go on without me.”
“Garth isn’t going. He said he has no intentions of spending his last night in town with the same people he’ll be with for the next few months,” Clay said.