1883
Reesa Roberts
A
Newsite Web Services Book
Published by arrangement with the
author
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2008 © by Reesa
Roberts
This book may not be reproduced in whole
or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission of the
author or Newsite Web Services, LLC
Published by Newsite Web
Services, LLC, Smashwords Addition
P.O. Box 1286, Loganville,
Georgia 30052
USA
disciplineanddesire@hotmail.com
disciplineanddesire.com
This book is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to actual persons, places,
and events are purely coincidental.
E-book ISBN 978-1-60850-157-1
This book is available in print at www.shop.thebookpress.com
Cover image is a photo taken by my good friend, Louise Collins, who has generously donated it for this book.
Other books by Reesa Roberts
A Chemical Romance
Ansel’s Mountain
Chapter One
Wisps of acrid smoke drifted underneath the wagon as Laura squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried not to cough. She pressed herself down into the prairie grass and covered her nose and mouth with her dress sleeve. She could hear the Indians whooping and yelling as they rode their horses around the four wagons they’d attacked, and she knew with certainty that her side had lost the fight. There were no more rifles firing, no more English voices shouting, no more screams of pain and terror. As the wagon above her burned, she prayed it wouldn’t collapse before she could get out from under it; the heat was becoming unbearable. Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, she realized she might have to choose between death by burning, or by tomahawk. She thought the latter would hurt less, but what if they didn’t kill her? What if they took her away and tortured her? She’d heard horrible stories over the last two weeks that had given her nightmares every night. Lord, she prayed, please make them go away! She thought back to this morning, when she’d been riding in the same wagon she was now hiding beneath.
She’d been flirting with the blacksmith’s son, Robby, who was riding alongside her wagon. She’d felt carefree and happy, both rare emotions since her parents had been killed a year ago. They’d gone to a wedding reception, and the house had caught fire. The ballroom had been so crowded that only a few had escaped from the mad rush to get out. She’d been told that they’d died from the smoke, and hadn’t actually burned to death, but it had been little consolation to a newly orphaned sixteen-year-old girl. Laura felt nauseous as the smoke thickened around her, picturing herself soon perishing in a like manner. She slowly turned her head to the other side, fighting back tears.
After her parents had died, she’d gone to live with her uncle, as her father had decreed in his will. Unfortunately, her aunt had treated her badly; making her do more work than anyone else, and constantly criticizing her. Her cousins had tormented her with cruel remarks about her orphaned state. Laura had been given a small allowance from her inheritance, and she’d saved every penny that had crossed her hand, until finally she’d had enough to buy passage to the west. She knew that her mother’s sister lived in northern Montana, and she’d bought a railway ticket to Virginia City, as far as the line went. Then she’d planned to go by stagecoach the rest of the way, but this small group of wagons had caught her eye, and it was only half the price of the coach. Having once spent three hours crushed between two very plump ladies on a coach, the large wagons had seemed much more comfortable. Now she fervently regretted her decision to join the wagon train. They hadn’t traveled two hours before the lead man announced they’d be taking a shorter route, and abandoned the fairly level dirt road to set off across the prairie. After that, the wagon she rode in had bounced and shook constantly, and she’d had a headache all day.
She remembered her Aunt Faith, a warm, kindly woman with two daughters of her own, and she wished she were there, safe and sound, instead of fearing for her life here. It had seemed such a good idea, sharing the food and security of a guided trip with the handsome young Robby. Some security! As soon as they’d spotted the Indians this afternoon, three of the other men had immediately galloped away, leaving the others to defend themselves. Laura, Robby, his father, Jim, Andy (the cook), and three other women had been no match for the small group of Indians. Robby had shoved her under the wagon and told her not to move. Laura had thought that Indian attacks were a thing of the past, but apparently, the recent constrictions of the Federal Indian Bureau had enraged them into action. She’d read about this in the paper just last month, but sitting in her uncle’s library in a large city, never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d soon be a victim.
Laura’s eyes and throat stung, and she started coughing. Struggling to control it, she waited in agonizing suspense to be discovered, but she heard nothing except the crackling of the fire above her. Maybe they’d left! A few embers floated down and landed on her hand. She shook them off, then cautiously lifted her head a little to see what was going on. The smoke was now too thick to see anything. Then a burning piece of wood fell on her arm and she yelped, jerking away. The possibility of burning to death her impetus, she rolled quickly out from under the wagon.
Laura sat up and froze, not believing what was before her eyes. The three women were lying in the grass, right in front of her, their clothing ripped and dirty, and their bodies bloody and still. She felt her hands shaking as she made herself look past them. Robby was bent backward across a saddle on the ground, an arrow jutting out from his chest. She clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from screaming. Andy was lying face down near the remnants of another wagon, and several arrow shafts protruded from his back. She looked past the burning wagons, across the prairie, and saw no sign of the Indians. All was still and quiet except for the crackling fires. The sights and smells of blood and smoke were overwhelming, and she vomited onto the ground in front of her. Crying, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she looked fearfully behind her. There was one covered wagon that hadn’t caught fire! She crawled to it, and pulled herself up to peer inside it. Robby’s father was lying dead on the floor of the wagon, a huge man in life; now he seemed small and frail. Then she heard horses’ hooves pounding the ground, coming closer, and she scrambled into the wagon, searching for a hiding place. A huge trunk was in the corner, and she jerked the lid up, threw out most of the clothing in it, and buried herself under a large woolen blanket. Soon she heard the voices of the three deserters exclaiming over the dead and the ruins.
“Wonder what happened to the girl?” That was Robert, a tall young man from Boston. He sounded very afraid; his voice was shaking.
“She ain’t here, so the injuns musta got her,” Jack’s voice asserted. He was a short bearded man who’d been traveling ahead of his family to start a homestead.
“She’d been better off dead, ah’ll tell ya that.” Laura cringed as she heard the voice of Angus, a large beefy man who’d been hired by the three other women as an escort. Some escort, thought Laura.
“That’s fer sure.”
“Well, we’d better get what we can carry, and head on north,” said Robert. Laura briefly thought of going with them, but she didn’t want to be the only woman among three men that couldn’t be trusted. She shivered and tried to make herself stay still.
“Yep. No sense hangin’ around here. ‘Sides, them injuns might come back.”
Laura heard the men scuffling about outside the wagon, and then felt it moving as one of them climbed in. She heard things being thrown about, and the clattering sound of someone going through the whatever the indians had left there. Then the lid above her rose. She held her breath and prayed as her blanket was briefly lifted a few inches, then dropped. The lid shut with a loud thud. Mercifully, she felt the wagon rise as the man left, apparently having taken all he’d wanted. After she heard them ride away, she cautiously climbed out of the trunk and peeked out from all four sides of the wagon. The fires had almost burnt out, and it was eerily silent. The sun was setting, and Laura began to wonder what she could do to survive. She wanted to lie down and cry her heart out, but she needed to get as far away from this carnage as possible.
She knew that she didn’t want to be a woman alone on a prairie, so she went through the clothing that was left on the wagon floor, carefully avoiding touching Jim. She’d have to wear some of Robby’s clothes. She quickly stripped off her dress and petticoats, and then pulled on a pair of pants. They were a few sizes too big, but she found a short piece of rope and tied them around her waist, and then rolled them up at her ankles. A pair of thick, gray woolen socks fit well enough, and also helped a pair of boots to fit. Laura ripped a shirt apart and used a wide strip to bind her breasts against her chest. Then she pulled on a cotton shirt that hung down over the pants. Increasingly afraid that the Indians might come back, she hurriedly tied some food items scattered on the floor, into a little bundle and emerged from the wagon. She didn’t want to look at her dead companions, but knew she’d have to search for some sort of weapon. There were no guns laying anywhere – the deserters must have taken them. She reluctantly searched the pockets of Robby and Jack and came up with nothing. Then she tugged their boots off, and finally found a small knife in Andy’s right boot. Well, it was better than nothing. Laura saw Robby’s hat on the ground near the wagon, and realized she’d forgotten about her hair. It was braided into two long plaits down her back. She put on the hat and stuffed the braids up in it, briefly considering cutting them off, but unable to make herself do it. Taking a deep breath, she started on her trek, back the way they’d come. She remembered that they’d crossed a little stream bordered with trees not too long before the Indians had attacked them. She began to follow the bent blades of grass left by the wagon wheels.
It was almost dark now, and the sun was just a crimson strip across the horizon. Laura hoped that she didn’t end up walking in circles, for she could barely see the grass. She sat down facing south, and waited for the stars to come out. It wasn’t long before they appeared, becoming brighter by the minute in the cloudless black expanse around her. She looked up and tried to remember the constellations her father had taught her. Standing up, she held her arms out to each side. The North Star was behind her, and she got her bearings. She then trudged determinedly on, stopping every five or ten minutes to be sure of her course. Laura tripped more times than she could count, either kicking a rock with her too-big boots, or stepping into a hole or rut in the soft earth. The grass was as high as her knees, but it hadn’t seemed that high when she’d been riding in the wagon. At one point, she heard something running through the grass, not too far away, and she crouched down with the knife ready, heart pounding and holding her breath until the noise faded away. Probably just a rabbit, she scolded herself, and continued on. It seemed hours before she finally heard the babbling of the little stream ahead. She didn’t think she’d ever been so thirsty before in her life, and she hurried to reach it. Laura tripped again just as she reached the bank, and fell sideways, feeling a sharp pain in her left forearm. Ignoring it, she stretched out toward the water and cupped her hands for a drink. It was so cool and fresh; she drank what seemed like a gallon before her thirst was quenched.
Laura found a tree with low branches, and climbed up until she got to a spot with three stout branches together. She lay down in the crook of the trunk, and tied herself to it, with the rope about her waist. She used the bundle for a pillow and was soon sound asleep, exhausted from her long ordeal.
Laura awoke to a severe muscle cramp in her right leg. Her neck and arm hurt as well. She started to move, and then froze as she heard voices directly below her.
“Sam, hold onto that horse before it pulls the wagon over!” Laura slowly turned her head and looked down. A young man was trying to keep a huge black horse from running to the stream, while he struggled to unhitch the traces from its harness. Finally succeeding, he led the horse to drink. Laura saw two more men talking together about twenty yards away. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, until they approached Sam, right below her.
“How much further is it ‘till we get home?” asked Sam, looking at the tallest man.
“About two more days, unless another wheel breaks.” The man sounded disgusted. Laura could only see the top of his hat, but she imagined his expression matching his tone of voice.
“Good. I can’t wait to start breaking the colts!” Sam pulled the horse back to the wagon to hitch it back up, while the other men stood quietly below her. Then she saw Sam leading two colts to the water. They looked like yearlings to her, but she didn’t really know that much about horses. He had his hands full; both animals were jumpy in their eagerness to get to the water. The two men stood and watched, laughing as Sam struggled to keep them under control.
“Why didn’t you bring one at a time?” the shorter man asked.
“Just trying to save time!” Sam was shouting over the colts’ splashing in the stream. It wasn’t long before they’d pulled him over, and he landed square on his buttocks in the middle of the water. The men laughed, and even Laura stifled a giggle as Sam tried to get up, slipping on the rocks. Laura turned her head again, and her bundle fell from the tree! She looked down in dismay as it hit the taller man’s right shoulder. He jumped back, saw it roll a few feet away, and then looked up right at her! Laura froze, petrified with fear. She pulled her hat on tight as she stared back at the man. He had the most amazing silver-gray eyes, underneath black expressive eyebrows. He had a mustache that blended into several days’ growth of beard.
“I’ll be damned,” he said, still staring at her. “Come on down from there.” Laura saw the other two look at the tall man, then up at her, their faces registering surprise. She didn’t move.
“Come on, now, we won’t hurt you,” said the tall man again.
“Wonder what he’s doing, sleeping up in a tree?” Sam asked the tall man, as if he’d know.
“I don’t know, but he doesn’t stand a chance out here all by his lonesome.” This came from the shorter man, whom Laura could now see, had a kindly face with brown hair and eyes, and a full beard.
“Come down here; you can travel with us,” said the brown haired man. Laura could not make herself answer, certain that her feminine voice would give her away. “Are you heading north?” He tried again, and she gave a small nod of her head. She reached back and untied herself from the tree trunk, hearing the taller man laugh. She straightened her left leg and almost cried out in pain. She moved slowly, stretching her muscles until she got all the kinks out. She tentatively put one foot down on a branch, but stopped to think a moment. Could she trust them? What if they found out she was really a girl? Would they take advantage of her? Maybe it would be better to stay here and follow from a distance. But then she thought of the Indians, and resolutely started to climb down. When she got to the ground, she went straight to the stream to drink. As she put her hands in the water, she saw her mother’s wedding ring twinkling on her right ring finger. She slipped it off and put it under her tongue as she drank, hoping no one had seen it.
Laura stood up and warily eyed the three men. Sam was tying the colts to the back of the wagon while the other two watched. She slipped the ring into her pants pocket and buttoned it shut. She wondered if Sam was a servant or if all the work just fell to him as the youngest and weakest. If so, she would probably have to do most of the work now, but she was grateful for a safe passage, and set her mind to chip in as well as she could. Sam hauled himself up onto the driver’s bench on the wagon, and the two men turned to look at Laura.
She stared at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing she’d seen all day. She didn’t want anyone scrutinizing her face. She hunched her shoulders forward a little; her bosom still seemed to protrude even though her breasts felt smashed tightly against her ribs. “What’s your name, boy?” Laura heard the question from the shorter man, but was afraid to answer. She’d just have to keep playing mute. She didn’t look up at him, but spying a stick a few feet away; she picked it up and drew into the mud on the creek bank, L O N N I E. Oh, Lord, why’d she pick a sissy name like that? Her cheeks felt hot as she stood back up and stepped away from the crude letters.
“Lonnie,” said the tall man. “Obviously, you can’t talk. Strange, seeing as you can hear, but I suppose you’ve got your reasons.” Laura shivered, feeling he could see right through her little charade. “I’m Dalton Garrison, and these are my brothers, Sam and Jack.” Laura nodded, but continued to avoid looking directly at any of the men. So, Sam was the younger brother, and not a servant. She went to retrieve her knapsack and then watched Dalton and Jack get their horses that they’d left a little way down the stream. They headed off at a trot, and Sam turned the wagon around to follow at a slower pace. None of them looked back at her, and she quickly dashed back to the stream to relieve herself. Feeling much better, she trotted to catch up, stumbling now and then, until she was about thirty feet behind the wagon. She found that she could walk fairly fast and not have to run to stay with it, but her feet were burning in several spots from the ill-fitted boots.
About an hour later, they came across the ruined wagons. Laura hung back, unwilling to experience the horror firsthand again. She sat down in the grass, put her head down, and held her hands over her ears. She didn’t even want to hear them discussing what might have happened. After a while, she looked up to see Dalton approaching Sam’s wagon, and she got up to start walking again.
“Lonnie.” She heard Dalton’s voice behind her, but she’d already forgotten her new name. Then he was beside her, catching her arm and pulling her around to face him. She stared at the ground.
“Were you with these people?” His voice sounded kind and pitying. She nodded her head, and turned to go.
“Lonnie, do you have any other relatives?” She shook her head no.
“Where were you heading?” She shrugged her shoulders, staring at his boots.
“No wonder he can’t talk. Must be in shock or something,” she heard Jack say from the wagon. “He ought to ride in the wagon; he looks awfully tired.”
Dalton took her by the elbow and pulled her gently toward the wagon. But Laura didn’t want to ride in it; her memories of Robby and the massacre were too fresh. She pulled her arm back and stopped, shaking her head no. “He’s not only tired, he doesn’t have any sense left, either,” said Dalton, his tone now stern. Laura hung her head and didn’t move. “Lonnie, are you coming with us?” She nodded her head. “Then you need to ride in the wagon. There’s no reason for you to walk. We’ve got a long way to go.” She shook her head again, and saw him tense up.
“Come on, Dalton, just let him walk if that’s what he wants,” called Jack.
“Well, I guess if he wants to wear himself out, that’s his business.” Dalton stalked off and mounted his horse. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to run into the Indians that did this.” He cantered off, leaving them behind, and Laura glanced up to see Jack getting back onto his horse, and Sam climbing up onto the wagon. She started walking again, but her feet were hurting so badly now, that she couldn’t keep up. She dismally watched the back of the wagon as it got further and further ahead of her. They hadn’t traveled more than ten minutes, when she saw Dalton galloping back toward her. She stopped and stared at the ground as he approached, wondering why he cared if she were left behind or not. He reined up beside her.
“Lonnie, you’re going to have to get in the wagon. We’ve got to move faster because those renegade Indians might still be around here.” Laura heard his impatient tone, but she couldn’t make herself ride in the wagon. She sat down on the ground cross-legged, hoping he’d give up.
Then she saw his feet hit the ground. “Now, Lonnie.” He strode over, hauled up by her arms, and threw her over his shoulder! She just managed to grab her hat and pull it on tight as she felt it slipping off. “Damn, stubborn boy,” she heard Dalton muttering as he marched toward the wagon. She couldn’t fight him; her hat would fall off. She should have cut her hair last night, but had been much too exhausted to even think of it again. She arched her back to keep from bouncing against him, and found herself nose to nose with his horse, which was patiently following him. Then Dalton stopped and dropped her buttocks first onto the wagon bed. There was only a little space between several large crates, but she was small enough to fit. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and her hat down again.
“Now, stay there,” Dalton’s tone was firm but not mean. He sighed. “Lonnie, we can’t leave you here to be killed by the Indians, or worse. You’ll just have to come with us until we find out if you have any relatives. I certainly hope you start talking soon.” With that, he mounted his horse again, and rode off. Laura felt the wagon shift as Sam clucked at the horse. The two colts sniffed at her curiously, then went back to trotting to keep up. Laura remembered riding on the wagon yesterday and talking to Robby. A vision of his mangled body entered her mind, and she shut her eyes against it. It was no use; she couldn’t sit in the wagon and not think about those horrible events. She cautiously slid off the end of the wagon and started walking again. She kept up for a while, staying between the two colts, but she couldn’t do it for very long. She was soon several hundred feet behind and again saw Dalton galloping toward her. Sam stopped the wagon. Dalton pulled up beside her and jumped down from his horse. Without saying a word, he took something from his saddle, grabbed her arm, and pulled her near the wagon. She stumbled along until he stopped near a large rock and released her. Laura rubbed her arm and stared at the ground as he stood before her.
“Son, you’ve got ten seconds to tell me why you won’t ride in that wagon!”.
Laura winced at his angry tone and hung her head, desperately wishing she could talk. However, to do so would jeopardize her disguise. The seconds ticked away, and then she heard Dalton take a deep breath. “All right then, I’ll have to assume you’re just being pigheaded and stubborn!” He sat down on the rock, and pulled her by the arm, over his knees! Her heart pounded in her ears, and she held on tightly to her hat as it started to slip off again. She was going to be whipped, and there was nothing she could do about it! She kicked her feet up and tried to twist herself off his lap, but he held her down easily, and she saw him raise up a piece of thick, well-worn leather. Dalton thought she was nothing but a stubborn little boy who needed a lesson in obedience! Then the first searing blow hit her buttocks, and a line of fire filled her senses as Dalton methodically struck her ten more times.
Laura heard herself screaming, and tears burned her eyes as she stubbornly held onto the hat with both hands and kicked her feet up.
Finally, he stopped, and said, “Well, your vocal chords sure work! Now, tell me why you won’t get in the wagon!” Laura only sobbed quietly, trying not to make any more sounds. Dalton hauled her up by the shoulders and pulled her to the wagon again. She let go of the hat long enough to scramble back into the little space on the bed, where she drew up her knees and hid her face from him.
“If you get off that wagon this time, I’m going to tan your hide again and tie you on there!” he lectured her, and then he mounted his horse and rode off at a gallop. Laura felt the wagon start rolling, and she began to cry in earnest. Her buttocks were burning! She managed to roll herself into a ball on her side, and she eventually fell asleep, no longer thinking of Robby, just the aching of her bottom and the angry look in Dalton’s silver eyes…
Chapter Two
“Lonnie,” Laura heard Sam calling her. She pulled her hat down firmly and slowly sat up to see him untying the two colts. “We’re stopping to eat. Get out and walk around some, okay?” She nodded her head and stretched her arms, wincing from the unexpected tenderness of her muscles. She was relieved to find that the ache in her buttocks was much diminished, and she crawled to the end of the wagon to get out. Standing up on shaky legs, she looked around. The flat plains had merged into rolling hills with occasional outcrops of rock, and there was a deep, wide stream bordered by tall trees and bushy undergrowth about thirty yards away. Laura walked down to the stream and scooped up some water in her hands. It was cool and fresh, and she drank hurriedly while looking around for somewhere to relieve herself. Just as she began to walk along the bank, she saw Dalton urinating into a bush about twenty feet away. She felt her cheeks flush rapidly, and turned away to see Sam watering the colts to the same little dance they’d done this morning.
“Lonnie, why don’t you take Sonny down to get a drink. That’s the horse that’s hitched to the wagon,” she heard Dalton say behind her, but she didn’t dare turn in his direction. Good grief, she thought, that horse will probably kill me. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to raise his ire again, and she cautiously approached the big black gelding. She put her hand out toward his bridle, but jumped back quickly as he snorted at her. Sam laughed loudly as he led the colts past her.
“Lonnie’s afraid of a horse!” he guffawed. Laura felt miserable. She glared at Sam, and approached the horse from the side. She unfastened the traces from his harness, and then cautiously patted him along his side until she reached his head. She determinedly grabbed his bridle, and he snorted again, but stayed still as she tried to figure out how to unfasten him. She unhooked several little metal buckles, and discovered that she’d freed him from all his bindings when he started moving toward the water. Laura hastily grabbed a bunch of his mane and trotted beside him, hanging on tightly. She was terrified that he’d step on one of her feet, and she tried to stay as far away as possible while not letting go. She could hear Sam laughing at her. Finally, they reached the stream, and the big animal ducked his head to take a long drink. The sound of the water redoubled her urgent need to relieve herself, but there was nothing she could do at the moment. She pulled her hat down on her head firmly with her free hand.
Suddenly, her hand was jerked up, as Sonny straightened up to look around him, apparently having quenched his thirst. Water dripped from his mouth and nostrils, and he snorted it all over her. She stifled a cry for help, and tried to pull him back to the wagon, but he wouldn’t move. Dalton came down to the stream then, and raised his eyebrows as she stood beside the huge horse with a death grip on its mane. She watched him walk over to his horse and get a strip of leather. Oh Lord, she thought, I’m going to be whipped again! He approached them very slowly, and she hung her head, but he calmly slid the strap around Sonny’s neck and led the horse back to the wagon. Laura breathed a sigh of relief, but her bladder was about to burst.
Sam was only a dozen feet away, sitting on the bank chuckling, and then she heard Dalton call her name. She knew she would never make it over there without wetting her pants. Thinking fast, she purposefully slipped on a rock, and fell down into the water, which covered her up to her waist. She stared angrily at Sam’s uproarious laughter as she relieved herself into the rushing water, with no one the wiser.
Feeling much better, she got up and splashed out of the stream and up the bank toward Dalton, who was waiting patiently beside Sonny. He showed her how to hook the horse back up, and then had her demonstrate the correct way to unfasten the traces from his harness, and not unhook his bridle. Dalton stood so close to her that she could smell his male scent, and it was very pleasant. She was shivering from the cool breeze against her wet pants, but felt something else as well. A steady warmth burned in her stomach - surely, she wasn’t attracted to him? He was very handsome, she’d give him that, but he’d just thrashed her backside only a few hours ago, and she ought to hate him for doing that! As his hand brushed across hers, fastening a buckle, she felt a sudden strong emotion and labeled it as anger. Why, she’d get even with him somehow; who did he think he was, treating her like that? Dalton suddenly put his hand around her wrist and pulled her arm out straight. They both stared down at the blood oozing from a gash in her forearm. Laura suddenly remembered falling on it the night before. He led her back to the stream, wet his handkerchief, and handed it to her. All thoughts of revenge left her mind as she cleaned the cut and then tried to rinse the blood out of the cloth before giving it back to him. He waved it away, though, as they heard Jack calling them for lunch.
Jack handed out some bread, cheese, and salt tack, and they all sat down in the grass to eat. Laura sat a little apart, keeping her head down as she rapidly ate her portion. She finished first, and quietly waited for the others while trying to sort out the jumble of emotions in her head. The pain and sadness from the Indian attack were fading somewhat as she became more familiar with the three brothers. Dalton was obviously a kind man, even though he clearly expected obedience or else, from the others. Jack was gentler, and didn’t seem opposed to Dalton’s authority. Sam still had some growing up to do; why else had he taunted her about her lack of skill with horses? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam’s loud laughter. “Why, I’ve never heard a boy scream like that before! He sounded like a stuck pig!” She glared at him, while he chuckled so hard that he almost choked on his bread. “You’d think he’d never been whipped before! Sounded like a damn girl, that’s for sure!” He was almost rolling in glee, and Laura noticed that Jack was stifling a grin, too.
However, Dalton wasn’t laughing. “Sam, cut it out,” he said sternly. “The boy probably hasn’t ever been disciplined before. And he won’t talk to defend himself. Leave him alone.” Laura felt her ears growing very hot as anger boiled up inside her. Screamed like a stuck pig? Couldn’t defend herself?
Sam didn’t stop, though, and continued, “What a mama’s boy! Ha, ha, ha!”
Suddenly Laura’s pent-up anger, fear, and pain exploded inside her. Jamming her hat down firmly, she leaped up, almost growling, and threw herself at the laughing boy. Since Sam had been sitting cross-legged on the ground, laughing hard, her element of surprise worked. She knocked him over backward and scrambled up to sit on his chest while pummeling his jaw with her fists. He still had his bread in one hand and his cheese in the other, and apparently didn’t sense enough of a threat to even let them go. He laughed until she caught him on the nose. She watched in great satisfaction as his expression changed from glee to pain. Then she felt the air whoosh out of her lungs as she was lifted up and once again found herself over Dalton’s hard thighs. Instinctively, she held onto her hat as his heavy hand fell upon her still damp pants. The pain was incredible, but she refused to utter a sound as he smacked her at least a dozen times in rapid succession. Then he dumped her on the ground and stood up over the two of them. She could barely see Sam through her tears, but was satisfied that he was crying too, and holding his nose with both hands as blood ran down his fingers.
“There. Now you’re both in pain. I don’t want to hear any more teasing, and I’d better not see any more fighting! Now, get up, it’s time to go!” Laura and Sam both jumped up and went to their respective places, and Jack handed Sam a cloth rag to wipe his nose with. Laura once again found it hard to sit on the hard wagon bed, and she curled up again to sleep as the wagon rolled along. She heard Sam’s voice as she drifted off, promising revenge. She resolved to give as good as she got, despite Dalton’s warning. She no longer felt angry at Dalton, even though he’d just blistered her bottom again. She felt a grudging respect for him; he didn’t know she was a girl, and he was just trying to keep the peace. She saw his handsome face shadowed with concern when he’d seen the cut on her arm, and a warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her. However, as the wagon bumped and creaked, she couldn’t sleep well, and kept waking from nightmares of burning wagons, savage Indians, and mangled bodies.
Hours later, she felt the wagon stop. She looked up and saw trees overhead. Must be another stream, she mused, and pulling her hat down, she slowly sat up to look around. Instead of the rugged prairie, though, she saw the trees and buildings of a small town.
“Hey, Lonnie!” Sam’s voice floated to her from the driver’s bench, and she turned to glare at him. “I’m gonna get even tonight. Better stay awake!” She turned back around and ignored him. He must be around her age, she thought, but that was where any similarities ended. She wondered what he’d think if he knew she was really a girl, having busted his nose. She grinned, but her glee soon faded as she spotted Dalton on the porch of a nearby building, talking to a young woman in a beautiful red velvet dress. Her hair was piled high on her head, and she was wearing bright red lipstick. Laura had never seen that bright of a color on anyone’s lips before. The woman’s cheeks were very pink from rouge, or was she just blushing? She watched Dalton put his arm around the woman’s shoulders and an unreasoning anger surged deep inside her.
Laura didn’t realize that she was staring until Jack’s voice surprised her. “Never seen a whore before?” She jumped guiltily, glanced at Jack beside the wagon, and then stared at the woman again. She almost said, “no,” but stopped herself just in time.
Jack laughed, “I’m just kidding, she’s not a whore.” Laura extricated herself from the wagon bed and stood up to walk around a bit.
“She owns the saloon,” added Jack. Laura didn’t care if she owned the whole town; she didn’t like the way the tart was scratching Dalton’s back and laughing up at him. Laura walked down the short street and back a few times, keeping an eye on Sam, who was still sitting on the wagon. She finally sat down on a bench outside a general store, wincing as she did so. She’d almost forgotten about that last incident. Dalton and the woman were now talking nose to nose; why didn’t he just make love to her right there on the porch, she thought, disgusted. Finally, Jack came over and said they were going to eat dinner at the saloon, and then travel until dark. Laura groaned and stood up to follow Jack. She didn’t want to waste her money eating in a saloon, and she’d never even been in one! Sam tied the horses to the rail and went through the door after Dalton and the woman in red.
Laura followed Jack inside, blinking her eyes in the dim lighting. There was a long bar, just like in certain magazine drawings she’d seen. A long mirrored glass ran the length of the bar on the wall behind it. She caught a glimpse of herself and nearly jumped, startled by her strange appearance. Her face was streaked with dust, the hat was down low over her forehead, and her clothes were dirty and baggy, but she smiled when she realized that she certainly didn’t look like a female. She saw everyone sit down at a long table on one side of the room. Then she froze as the men removed their hats. Uh oh. This wasn’t going to work at all. She turned and marched back outside, getting onto the back of the wagon to dig out her food from her knapsack. She was afraid that Dalton would follow her back out, so she slipped around to the back of the building and found a bench to sit on and eat. She sorted through the items she’d hastily grabbed from Robby’s wagon. There was some cornbread wrapped in paper that looked all right. One bruised apple, several strips of jerky, and a few pieces of taffy were definitely not enticing. She started chewing on the cornbread and thinking about how to get herself out of this situation. After a while, the woman in red came out the back door to throw out a bowl of wash water. Laura stared at her, unable to stop herself. Catching her eye, the woman came over and sat down on the bench beside her. Laura stared at the ground, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I’m Della.” The woman held out her hand, and Laura hesitantly shook it. She started to pull her hand back, but Della held onto it and stared hard into Laura’s face. “You’re no boy,” she said with certainty. Laura’s face fell as she jerked her hand away in dismay.
“Please don’t tell!” Her voice was hoarse from not talking for so very long, and she had to clear it to continue. “Please don’t tell them; I won’t be safe if they know I’m a girl!”
Della frowned at her. “I don’t know why they haven’t figured it out yet. They must be blind.” Then she smiled, “But then again, after the stories I just heard, you’ve been doing a pretty good acting job.”
“I think I’ll be okay as long as I don’t lose this hat.” She pulled it off and scratched her head. It felt wonderful. “I didn’t have time to cut my hair.”
“I can’t believe that your entire family was killed by the Indians only yesterday.” Della stared at her.
“It wasn’t my family, just a group of people I’d paid for an escort to Montana. I just let them believe it was my family, because I had no way to tell them any differently.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be traveling without your family? You didn’t run away, did you?” Laura then found herself telling Della all that had happened to her over the past year. When she finished, she was almost in tears. She shifted herself on the bench, wincing at the ache in her buttocks.
Della laughed. “You know, you might be better off getting made love to, than getting your backside tanned!”
“I did think about that, but I’m saving myself for marriage,” Laura announced in a dignified tone.
“Dalton has it in his head that you’re in need of some straightening out! They think you’re only about twelve years old. This won’t get any better, dear.” Della told her. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about the Garrison men. They would never take advantage of an unwilling girl. I’ve known them since we were children.”
Laura thought about that for a minute. She would be safe with these men, according to Della. However, she was beginning to like the freedom of being a boy. She could walk down a street by herself. She could make her own way in life. For how long, she didn’t know. Perhaps the Garrisons would hire her as a stable boy or a ranch hand until she made more money, and then maybe she could go to college or something that only men could do! Maybe…no, that was silly, of course, she’d never be able to go that far, but she was really enjoying it for now. She told Della as much, and the woman sighed in exasperation.
“All right then, have it your way. I won’t tell. But as soon as that hat falls off your head…”
“Ooh, would you cut my hair for me? Right now, before they come looking for me? Then I could really look like a boy!” Laura’s eyes shone with excitement, and Della thought about it for a moment.
“No, I’m not gonna do that. I think you’ll be found out sooner than you think, and then you’d be an ugly girl instead of a girly boy.” She laughed at her own joke, but Laura frowned in disappointment.
“Come on into the kitchen, honey, and I’ll get you some real food.” Della stood up and went inside. Laura pulled her braids up, put her hat back on, and followed her in. She sat down in the warm cozy kitchen, and started to wolf down the plate full of green beans, potatoes, roast, and gravy that appeared in front of her. Then Della handed her a large, cold mug of beer and went back into the saloon. Laura had never had beer before, but she liked the tasty brew and was just finishing it off when Dalton appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Good God, Della, you gave the boy a beer?” His expression was stormy and for some reason Laura found this hilarious. She started laughing and plunked the mug down on the table a little too hard.
She heard Della behind him, saying, “I thought he might like it,” in a teasing voice. Dalton turned to glare at her.
“And what else did you do to him?”
Della laughed with glee. “You’re afraid I’ve seduced him, aren’t you?” This was even funnier to Laura, whose head felt a little fuzzy, and she continued to laugh, trying to keep her tone low. She hoped she didn’t sound like a girl.
Dalton turned back to Laura. “I’d better not ever catch you drinking anything with alcohol again!” He threw up his hands in disgust and stomped out to the front of the saloon.
“Let’s go!” he shouted to everyone in general. Laura jumped up to hug Della before dashing out the back door and climbing into the back of the wagon. She fell asleep almost immediately, the previously untasted alcohol making her drowsy. She forgot all about Sam and his promise to get even.
Dalton halted them several hours later, just as dusk was settling in. They had made good time, and were only a few hours from home now. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to travel at night with renegade Indians still a possible danger. He hadn’t heard of any Indian attacks in the last decade and he wondered what had started the trouble. It would certainly help if Lonnie started talking. He wanted to push the issue, to make the boy talk, but he knew Lonnie had been through a lot of trauma, and he didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t consider the discipline to have hurt the boy, but rather thought it would help bring him back to reality. He’d never hesitated to use it on his younger brothers when they’d needed it over the years, while his father had gone on long cattle drives, leaving him to be the man of the house.
Now those days were mostly over, and his parents, who were still hale and healthy, had hired others to do the cattle driving for them. The family owned a large ranch that covered nearly a tenth of the state, that they had built up over the last thirty years into the richest cattle ranch this side of the Mississippi. The three sons were returning from a visit to their cousins in St. Louis, to bring back some of their mother’s antiques that she wouldn’t trust to be shipped on a train. Dalton looked down at Lonnie sleeping soundly in the little space in the back of the wagon. Lonnie was a very small lad, but with some hard work, discipline, and good food, Dalton thought he’d shape up. He wouldn’t be a “mama’s boy” much longer. He wondered why he cared so much about what happened to Lonnie. There was something about him that pulled at his heart, but he didn’t know what it was. Had Lonnie really lost his entire family to the massacre? He just didn’t seem to be that traumatized, other than being afraid to ride in the wagon at first, so Dalton was doubtful.
Sam watered the horses and Jack started a fire to sleep by. It was getting quite chilly. Dalton pulled a blanket from a box and threw it over Lonnie, who didn’t stir. May as well just leave him there; he looked comfortable. A little while later, the three men bedded down by the campfire. Sam had first watch. He sat with his back to the fire, making his plans as he waited to be sure his brothers were asleep. His revenge had to be something that Dalton couldn’t pin on him. He thought hard, the pain in his still swollen nose driving his determination. At least the little monster hadn’t broken it. In a few days, he’d be his usual handsome self again. He laughed silently, not really thinking he was handsome. It was the girls in town that thought so. Every time there was a church social or a dance, they flocked around him and his two brothers. Some of them just wanted into the family fortune, he knew, but others whose families were financially well off, flirted with them the same. Sam closed his eyes to concentrate.
Laura woke up and tried to stretch, but couldn’t move in the small space she was in. She sat up and sleepily rubbed her eyes. She could see a small fire illuminating a grove of trees, by which the men were camped. Sam was sitting up against a saddle, sleeping, the other two were wrapped in blankets by the fire, and she could hear snoring. Her head hurt and she pulled her hat off a minute to rub it, then put it back on, stuffing the braids back underneath. She remembered Dalton getting angry over her drinking beer and the way he’d cuddled up to Della, and how she’d felt left out, almost jealous. She realized she didn’t have any bad feelings about it now, since she’d found out how nice Della was. Watching Sam sleep, she wondered how long she’d have to watch her back. She suddenly knew that she’d have to leave these men in order to have any real freedom. Dalton would try to control her, Sam would try to get even, and Jack would just be caught in the middle. She still felt a little woozy, but her mind seemed clear. She’d take Jack’s horse and ride back to the little town. Once there, she would get Della to cut her hair, and hire her as a cleaning boy or something. She’d be safe there, and wouldn’t have to pretend all the time, only around other people. Della’s feminine concern for her had made her realize how much she’d missed her mother, and she was hungry for more.
Her aunt had been horrible to her, always criticizing her, making her do all the dirty work when they had plenty of servants to do it, and always putting her down in front of company. Laura didn’t want to steal a horse, though, and she pulled out the little pouch from around her waist. She had almost thirty dollars left. She hoped that would cover the cost of Jack’s horse. She’d noticed that his horse was the calmest one and thought she could handle him. She wanted to leave a note with the money, but she didn’t have anything to write with. Well, she would just leave the money here in back of the wagon; it wasn’t like anyone would steal it. She quietly slid off the back of the wagon and stretched. Cautiously watching the men at the fire, she crept around to the trees where they’d tethered their horses. Jack’s horse was still saddled, thank goodness; she didn’t think she’d have been able to do it herself. Whispering and petting his neck, she untied the reins and led him slowly away. A few minutes later, she climbed up on his back and waited for the horse to move. When he continued to stand quietly, she remembered the reins and reached down to grab them up. She shook them a little and clucked, and then gripped the saddle horn tightly as the horse began to walk. She soon found that if she pulled a little to the side, the horse would walk that way, and she headed east by the North Star. They couldn’t have come very far from the little town.
Sam watched Laura sneak off with the horse, unbelieving his luck. This was too good to be true! The little snot was stealing a horse! He wouldn’t have to do a thing but continue to sleep. Of course, Dalton would be angry that he’d fallen asleep while on watch, but he’d be too busy trying to find Lonny to do anything about it. Sam figured that Lonnie’s good fortune was over now. Dalton couldn’t possible want a horse thief among them. Why, the kid would probably go to jail! It was almost time for Jack’s turn to keep watch now, but Sam waited a half an hour longer, to make sure that Lonnie had a good head start.
Jack sat up sleepily when Sam shook his shoulder, and looked around. He yawned and got himself a cup of coffee from the tin pot by the edge of the fire. Sam laid down on his bedroll while Jack walked around a bit to wake up. Sam waited in suspense, knowing it wouldn’t be long, now. Then Jack came up and kicked him in the leg.
“Ow!” Sam sat up, rubbing his shin.
“Okay, Sam, where’s my horse?” Jack was annoyed.
“Your horse?” Sam pretended innocence.
“What did you do with Brownie? Tie him up somewhere else? This isn’t funny, Sam.”
Dalton opened his eyes and looked up at his brothers. “What’s going on?”
“Sam hid Brownie somewhere, and won’t tell me where he is.”
“I swear I never touched him! You probably didn’t tie him up good,” retorted Sam.
Dalton sat up and rubbed his head. “Your horse is gone?”
“Well, if he wandered off, then why didn’t you hear him leave?” Jack was getting very angry now.
“Well, I did fall asleep for awhile. But I sure didn’t hide him!” Sam managed to look a little guilty for falling asleep as Dalton’s eyes narrowed at him.
Dalton got up and stretched, and then walked over to the wagon to check on Lonnie. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach when he saw the empty space where Lonnie had been. The horse was gone; Lonnie was gone. Not much to figure out, there. “Lonnie!” He called out loudly, not really expecting an answer. “Lonnie!” Damn that boy! Didn’t he know that taking a horse out west here was a crime as bad as murder? He hadn’t thought the boy capable of doing such a thing, and blamed it on his naivety. He’d probably headed back to Della for some more “mothering”, damnit, and must have thought he could just “borrow” a horse. Well, he was in for a big surprise! Dalton marched back over to the fire, glaring at Sam. “You never heard a thing, huh?”
“No, sir! Like I said, I must have just fallen asleep! Lonnie’s gone?” Sam wore a look of innocence that Dalton saw right through.
“You let him take Brownie, didn’t you?”
“No, sir! Why would I let him take a horse?” Nevertheless, Sam knew his goose was cooked. He’d never been able to lie to Dalton and get away with it. He’d let his desire for revenge override his good sense. Damn!
“Well, I’m going to catch up with that boy, and give him a real whipping. I don’t think he really meant to steal the horse. He couldn’t know how serious that would be, because if he did, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to do it.” Dalton turned and went to get his horse. “Jack, stay here with Sam. When I get back, I’m going to tan his hide, too.” He angrily began to saddle up his horse.
“No, Dalton, I’m coming with you.” Jack made the statement, and Dalton looked over at him in surprise. No one talked back to Dalton Garrison, especially not a younger brother! However, he saw the look of determination on Jack’s face, and realized that he was a man full-grown, able to make his own decisions. He was nearly twenty-two years old, after all. He nodded his head, and waited as Jack saddled up Sonny, and they rode off at a fast trot.