Heartbreak Trail Part 22

Yes, Agnes was right. All along, in the back of her mind, she'd known Amy belonged to Abner. She had no right whatsoever to the child. Now Agnes had forced her to face the truth. She lifted her chin. "I have nothing more to say on the subject."

Concern filled Agnes' eyes. "Are we still friends?"

"Of course. I always welcome your opinion."

"Only the good die young," said Charlie Dawes. He and Clint sat with their coffee before the dying embers of their campfire. "That's why I'd put my money on Abner to pull through."

Clint responded with a noncommittal, "Hmm."

"There ain't no use pretending you don't care."

Clint shifted his gaze from the fire and regarded his friend. "All right, you've got my attention."

"You give me one good reason why you'd want that dumb son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h to live."

In deep thought, Clint lingered over his next sip of coffee. "I've never wished anyone dead. Even the Indians I've killed, I did because I had to."

"I've never relished killing Indians, either, not like some. What if Abner pulls through, which to my way of thinking, he probably will."

"So what if he does?" Clint pretty much knew what was coming, but there was no stopping Charlie when he wanted to have his say.

"You're in love with Lucy." At Clint's quick, sharp glance, Charlie continued, "No use denying it. Just the way you two look at each other, it's plain as the nose on your face."

"She's got a lot of responsibilities right now. I'd never-"

"Oh, I ain't doubting for a minute you were the soul of propriety on that trip back, what with a newborn to care for-and I hear you saved the little tyke's life, besides having that sorry-a.s.s religious lunatic in the back of the wagon with his leg broke. What happens now?"

"Nothing happens now."

"What if Abner dies?"

"Then ..." Clint's eyes narrowed under a furrowed brow. "I never thought I would marry. That was before ... A muscle quivered in his jaw. "Yes, it's crossed my mind the son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h might die."

"You wouldn't be human if it hadn't." Charlie's voice was suddenly gentle. "What if he lives? You know d.a.m.n well he still has a hold on her."

"Whatever happens, I won't do anything until we get to California. If Abner's still around, I'll deal with him then."

Charlie burst into scoffing laughter. "It ain't going to work, old friend. Don't give me a bunch of bull. What with six hundred miles to the Humboldt, and then across the desert, and then the Sierras, human nature being what it is, I'd wager a quart of Old Orchard you won't be able to keep your hands off each other for that long a time."

On the morning of the fourth day after Abner's surgery, the young doctor emerged from the tent and spoke to Lucy, a big grin on his face. "Good news! Looks like Mister Schneider is going to pull through."

"Why, that's wonderful news. I'm so very grateful." Lucy watched the doctor walk away, pleased with himself for a job well done. Little did he know. Of course, it was wonderful news. Just wonderful. Maybe if she kept repeating those words enough times, she'd believe them. She'd be a terrible person if she thought otherwise.

The wagon train split at Fort Hall. After a well-needed rest, those bound for Oregon continued on a northwest course that would take them to Fort Boise, the Columbia River, and on to the Oregon Territory. Those headed for California turned southwest. They'd cross a blistering hot desert, then the Sierra Nevada Mountains before reaching the golden sh.o.r.es.

The split brought heartbreaking farewells. Hannah Richards, about to continue on to Oregon, bid Lucy goodbye with sad reluctance. "You're one of the best friends I ever had or ever will have." She hugged Lucy tight, unabashed tears rolling down her cheeks. "We can't even exchange addresses."

"I know. Chances are, we'll never see or even hear from each other again." Lucy couldn't control her own tears. "I'll never forget you." She stepped back and clasped Hannah's hands in her own. "We've been through a lot, haven't we, dear friend?"

Hannah nodded. "It's going through all the hardships together that makes dear friends." She hesitated a moment. "Can I give you a piece of advice?"

"Of course."

"Follow your heart. That's all I have to say, just follow your heart."

Lucy wouldn't even try to pretend she didn't know what Hannah meant. "Perhaps I will." There was a long pause. "I absolutely will."

Chapter 19.

Lucy's opinion of Abner sank to new depths as they traveled the six hundred mile stretch from Fort Hall to the Great Basin of the Humboldt River. She wanted to cringe every time she heard his voice, always irritated since his accident. Granted, losing a limb was a terrible thing, but his constant moaning and complaining were a trial to everyone, Lucy most of all. It didn't help that-aside from taking the reins and driving the oxen every now and then-he'd become totally useless, never lifting a finger to help. She was responsible for all the work now, and each long day included yoking and driving the oxen, caring for the baby, setting up the camp, repairing the wagon, collecting firewood, and doing the cooking. Only the helping hands of others in the train made her miserable situation bearable.

If she thought her plight couldn't possibly get any worse, she was in for an unpleasant surprise. The most brutal part of the journey began when the California-bound party headed out over the treeless, alkaline region of the Great Basin of the Humboldt. By the time they reached the halfway mark, food and water were scarce. Wagons broke down, and the oxen, deprived of food and water, were in such sad shape they hadn't strength left to pull. For days the struggling party followed a pathetic trail of cherished belongings left behind by the unfortunate souls who traveled before them. Chairs, tables, bedsteads, mattresses-every article of housekeeping. Clothes, family pictures, all tossed overboard as people tried to lighten their load. Lucy saw many deserted wagons, too, and dead animals.

Now it was their turn. When two of their thirsty, half-starved oxen died, Abner decreed they must lighten the loads in both wagons, causing Lucy to grieve for the loss of her precious family pictures, which must now be left to rot in the sand. She found little consolation in knowing she wasn't the only one. Families all around them were tossing their precious possessions over the side.

"I never dreamed I'd be doing this."

Cordelia Benton carried her tea service to the side of the trail and lovingly placed it atop the alkaline dust. " I do believe Grandmother Benton would roll over in her grave if she could see her magnificent sterling silver tea service just tossed away like trash in the middle of the desert."

Lucy nodded in sympathy. "It's terrible, but we have no choice."

Charlie Dawes rode up. "It don't get any easier, does it?" Face covered with dust and sweat, he halted his hoof-sore horse by the side of the trail, removed his hat, and swiped his arm across his forehead. "Nary a drop of water nor a spear of gra.s.s since we started across." He surveyed the never-ending landscape of rock, sand, mesquite, and cactus, stretching out desolate and bleak beneath the blazing sun. Ahead, the wagon train barely moved. Since dawn, two of the Benton's oxen had died, leaving Cordelia no alternative but to lighten the load.

As Charlie rode away, Chad stuck his head out the back of the Benton's wagon. "Hey, Ma, what about this barrel of dishes?"

For an agonizing moment, Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes, they've got to go." She watched her son lift the barrel to the back edge of the wagon, then gasped in alarm. "Chadwick, you be careful with Grandmother Benton's French Haviland china!"

"What for?" Chad hoisted the barrel over the edge and let go. It crashed to the ground, accompanied by the loud, sickening sound of breaking dishes.

"Oh, dear Lord!" Cordelia looked toward the sky. I'm so sorry, Grandmother Benton."

"She understands." Lucy placed a comforting hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "I know how it hurts, but the best we can do is put our former lives behind us and carry on." She barely believed her own brave words.

Cordelia wiped away a tear and stood tall. "We're going to make it, never you fear. We'll make Nathaniel proud."

Chad appeared at his mother's elbow. "Not if we try to farm. I want to go to the gold fields."

"Perhaps we will."

"You mean you're not going to farm?" The last Lucy heard, her friend from the South planned to carry out her husband's wish to acquire farmland in California.

"I've decided I'd make a very poor farmer. Besides, from what I've heard, there's money to be made in the mining towns, and not just from panning for gold."

Bright-eyed Chad spoke. "We'll be pa.s.sing by lots of mining towns before we get to Sacramento. Like Hangtown. That's where I really want to go. You should tell Mister Schneider."

Lucy shook her head. "I don't know if I can even bring it up. Mister Schneider is ... a bit difficult to deal with since his accident."

"A bit difficult?" Cordelia looked ahead to where Abner's wagon slowly rolled along the trail. "He's impossible, and you know it. Is he actually driving the oxen today?"

"Yes. He does ... occasionally."

"Hmmph!" Cordelia raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's the least he can do. I know he can't walk, but in my opinion, he could contribute something more than just lying around reading his Bible and complaining. Furthermore ... oh, dear, I should keep my mouth shut."

"I don't know why. Tell me what you're thinking."

Cordelia appeared encouraged. "Why don't you leave Abner and come with us? You know very well he won't be able to farm, much as he might claim otherwise. Certainly not in his present condition, and it doesn't look as if he's going to get any better. Besides ..." Cordelia hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. "Far be it from me to pry, but you're not married to the man. Why must you stay with him, anyway? I don't understand."

Other than Clint and Hannah, Lucy hadn't revealed Abner's hold on her. But why not? In his pitiful condition, what could he do to her now? "After Jacob died, Abner made it clear that Noah was legally his and he'd never give him up. What could I do? I couldn't bear the thought of leaving that beautiful child in his hands. Now, with Martha's baby, it's even worse. I love that child like my own. Just as with Noah, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her with that awful man."

Cordelia nodded. "So that's it. Well, I always had the feeling he had a hold on you. It's different now, isn't it? He's weak and helpless, and it's his own stupid fault, as far as I can see. You should no longer feel obligated to him in any way, even if he is your brother-in-law."

"I don't. In fact, I've decided that as soon as we reach California, I shall leave Abner and strike out on my own." Lucy felt a swell of strength, just hearing her own words.

"What about Amy?"

"She comes with me. If Abner objects, I have only to point out he can hardly take care of himself now, so how could he possibly take care of a baby? Why would he want to?"

Cordelia applauded. "Good for you! I don't wish to snoop, but can you afford it?"

Lucy thought of the bag of coins at the bottom of the flour barrel. What a comfort, knowing they were there. "Jacob didn't leave me penniless, I'm happy to say."

"Then that's wonderful news, and I'm so glad to hear it." Cordelia turned to her son. "Come on, Chad. Let's see what other priceless heirlooms we can toss over the side."

After they left, Lucy walked on, reflecting that never in her life had she felt so weary. There were times when she could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. No sense complaining-everyone felt exactly the same way. She must look a sight. If only her fancy friends in Boston could see her now in her faded, tattered clothes, limping because her feet were blistered from walking over the burning sand and flint rocks. Well, one good thing ...

She ran a quick hand over her trim waist and the hard, flat muscles of her abdomen. Her figure had never been so trim. Despite her ragged appearance, she knew Clint had noticed. She'd seen the admiration in his eyes.

"Good afternoon. Out for your daily stroll?"

It was Clint, coming up beside her on foot, leading his Appaloosa. As usual, her heart lifted just knowing he was near. "Good afternoon. Not riding today?"

He fell in step beside her. "Paint's not up to it. I won't ride again until we're through the desert."

They walked in companionable silence for a while, their steps matching the train's slow pace. "Everything all right with you today?"

The deep caring she heard in his voice made her want to cry out, "No, everything's not all right because I can't have you."

Agnes was right. Lucy longed for Clint, so much so that there were nights, exhausted though she was, that she lay awake and yearned with all her heart and soul to be in his arms. She almost wished they'd never made love in the first place. Then she wouldn't know what she was missing. Now that she knew what "lovesick" meant. Her desire for Clint seemed to deepen each day, to the point she could hardly act like a good, well-brought-up Christian woman was supposed to act. In fact, if he touched her right now, she suspected she'd fall at his feet in complete surrender, in front of G.o.d, Abner, Agnes, and everyone else.

"I'm doing just fine today, and the baby, too. She's asleep in the wagon." She reached to wipe the dampness from her brow. "I'm such a mess."

He threw her a glance. It was quick, but not so quick she didn't catch the pa.s.sion in his warm brown eyes. "Even covered in dust you look good to me."

"Thanks, I think." She smiled and trudged on. "Will we ever get there?"

"Two more days and we'll be out of the desert. Then a couple days more and we'll get to Truckee."

"What an odd name."

"It's named after a friendly Piute Indian guide with a name that sounded like 'Tro-kay.' The white men dubbed him 'Truckee,' and the name stuck."

"Is it nice there?"

"You're going to love it. Think of tall pine trees ... fresh mountain air ... a river of clear water."

"What heaven! I can think of no greater pleasure on earth than to be able to wash all over."

"There will be plenty of fresh game, too, as well as fish from the lake, and ..." He hesitated. "Truckee will be a place where we can have some privacy and talk."

Her heart did a flip flop. Privacy! She and Clint could be alone. "What will we talk about?"

He cast a piercing gaze. "You know what we'll talk about."

"You mean Abner."

"You can't stay with that man. We'll talk when we get to Truckee."

Her heart swelled with hope. Could she dare dream she and Clint could be together? He didn't want to talk now. Well, she could wait. After all, what did a few more days matter? They walked another dozen steps before she felt enough in control to venture a change of subject. "Chad says he wants to go to a place called Hangtown."

"Not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a rough, tough, lawless town where they'll hang a man for so much as spitting on the sidewalk."

"You've been there?"

"Yes. I won't be going back, though."

"Lucy, come here!"

Abner. She hadn't noticed, but the train had stopped and they'd come abreast of his wagon. "I must go."

Anger flashed in Clint's eyes. "I'd like to kick his teeth in when he yells at you like that."

"But you won't," she softly replied. "Good day. Nice chatting with you."

When she got to the wagon, Abner glowered down at her. "Come and drive these oxen. My leg hurts, and I'm tired."