come to expect it. “This is my third trip west, Miss Tanton,” the boy announced between servings.
“Don’t go bragging about it,” Eli scolded. “Ya ain’t no old hand, by a long shot.”
Sarah smiled at the youth, and he beamed back. “I’m gonna be one day, Eli. I’ll be a scout like River. River says we’re leaving in the morning. That right, Mr. Milburn?”
Milburn grinned at the boy. “There’s grass enough to support the stock. We’ll pull out tomorrow.”
Rice’s delight was too great to hold inside, and he whooped for joy. Milburn laughed. “Help me tell the others.”
The boy rose eagerly, setting his bowl aside. “River says he ain’t leaving with us. That right, too, Mr. Milburn?”
“We’ll wait for him at Fort Kearny, if he hasn’t caught up by then.” He put an arm across the boy’s shoulders. “I can count on you to fill the gap, can’t I, son?”
“Yes, sir!” he responded.
Eli grumbled something about fool boys.
As Sarah helped Eli clean the dishes and put them away, she began to feel uneasy. After tomorrow, there would be no turning back. She silently scolded herself. The things she had kept from Milburn shouldn’t matter anymore.
Eli spoke, causing her to jump. “Ya don’t talk much, do ya?”
Sarah had to take a slow breath so her voice wouldn’t shake. “I’m used to working in silence.” At his curious look she amended, “Working alone.” Eli went on with the cleaning, but she knew he watched her.
“I don’t guess ya come prepared with blankets and such,” he commented as he closed the door on the last of the dishes.
“I have blankets in my trunk,” she said.
Eli frowned. “Ya can sleep in the wagon. Better turn in. Day don’t start at noon out here like in the city.”
As he sauntered away, she almost laughed. When had she slept past daybreak? Suddenly she remembered the parties, the nightlife of Albany, and Daniel. How could she have forgotten? Still, it seemed like a different lifetime, a different Sarah. She shuddered and climbed into the wagon. She wouldn’t think about Daniel.
The interior of the wagon seemed dim and gray. There were boxes and crates neatly stacked and a canvas cover overhead. The canvas was equipped with pucker strings that could close the ends completely. She moved forward in the wagon and loosened the strings as much as possible.
Finding her trunk in the settling darkness, she removed her little jewelry box and let her fingers trace the flower carved in the walnut surface. This was her most treasured possession, a gift from Daniel years ago. Disgusted with herself for becoming melancholy, she opened the box and dropped the hairpins in as she removed them from her hair. She needed to separate the happy memories from the sad, she decided, or not think about Daniel at all.
Her blankets spread on the floor between the piles of crates, Sarah listened to the sounds outside, trying to let the soft voices reassure her. She willed herself to relax on her hard bed but found herself gripping the blankets so tightly her fingers hurt. The images that intruded were too vivid. Knowing them for what they were made little difference. She crawled to the rear of the wagon and breathed in the fresh cool air.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, but the camp grew still, and the fires died. Quietly, afraid of disturbing the others, she took her blankets a short distance from the wagons. The ground was no harder than the wagon, and the stars overhead brought her a peace the gray wagon had not.
* * *
Activity in the camp awakened her. Though it was still dark, men were bringing in teams and meals were being prepared. Their own fire had been rekindled, and Eli hovered near it. She stretched stiff muscles and, gathering up her blankets, hurried to put them away and tend to herself.
When she returned, Eli eyed her sourly. “Ain’t much left for ya to do.”
Sarah wondered if he had let her sleep in order to confirm his own assessment of her. Breakfast did seem to be nearly ready. A coffeepot sat on a grate above the fire, and Eli held the long handle of a skillet in which bacon hissed and crackled.
After setting out the tin plates and cups, she moved near the fire, letting its warmth ease the morning chill. Breathing in the smell of wood smoke, bacon and brewing coffee, she felt an unexpected sense of freedom. She wished she had Rice’s lack of inhibitions and could throw back her head and whoop. She could imagine what Eli would think of her then.
Rice brought the teams in, and Milburn came to help hitch them up. Sarah wondered if she should offer to help or take over the breakfast so Eli could. She wished someone would tell her what she was expected to do. Questions formed in her mind, but Eli’s closed expression kept them there.
When Milburn and Rice came to the fire, Eli served their breakfast. “Can Miss Sarah ride with me?” Rice asked, passing his plate for more.
Milburn laughed. “I imagine Eli wants to talk to her about her duties, Rice. Maybe another day.”
Sarah glanced from Rice’s frown to Eli’s scowl and felt as bad as Rice. She tried to be more careful not to show it.
It was more than an hour, however, before she had to climb onto the wagon seat with Eli. Milburn called a meeting to explain the route by army road to Fort Kearny and announce the order of wagons, describing the rotation system that would keep any one person from always having the dusty rear position.
He introduced the Reverend Fleenor, a young man with an unruly shock of dark hair who invited everyone to worship services on Sundays.
“Hold on a minute!” A hard-faced, stocky man pushed his way through the crowd. “I don’t got time to waste while the Reverend prays for our souls. I say we move as far and fast as we can.”
There was a murmur in the crowd, of assent or dissent, it was hard to tell. Milburn raised his hand. “We’ll avoid longer delays if we keep wagons and harnesses in good condition. Besides, both man and beast need rest. We’ll stop on Sundays if we can.”
The authority in his voice made the man back down. Sarah watched him join two other hard cases. The youngest sported a black eye. From a brawl, she imagined.
Finally, Eli helped Sarah onto the lead wagon. He seated himself beside her and waited. It wasn’t long before Milburn waved his hat in the air. Eli hollered at the oxen, cracking a whip above their backs, and the wagon moved forward.
Off to their right, another train was preparing to pull out. A lone wagon was already ahead of them. Sarah breathed deeply, taking in the crisp spring morning. Birds were singing, and an occasional wildflower peeked among the prairie grasses.
She was leaving the states behind. Leaning out the wagon to look behind them, she could see Fort Leavenworth, with its flag catching the breeze, and the town across the river. There were clusters of wagons still behind them and thirty-six wagons following Milburn into the unknown.
“Ya wishin’ ya’d stayed back there?” Eli asked.
“No. I just want to remember.”
Eli glanced at the pretty face and frowned. In spite of himself, he was curious. Why was she going west, and how did she come to be all alone? The way women liked to talk, he’d bet his back teeth he’d know all about it by the end of the day.
As the sun rose higher, Sarah donned the sunbonnet she had been holding in her lap. It restricted her view but protected her skin and hair from the relentless rays. It also, she discovered, offered some protection from Eli’s curious glances.
At midday, Milburn signaled for a stop. Eli angled his wagon off the main track, and Rice pulled his up beside it. The others did the same. They ate a cold meal, checked stock and harnesses and were on their way again in less than an hour.
Back in the wagon seat, Sarah wondered if she should ask Eli