of. And these folks’, too,” he added as an afterthought.
Eli spoke to the crowd instead of to Bull. “Ya all paid yer money for a guide west. In a day or so, River’ll catch up. He’ll guide ya on. Ain’t no need to go strikin’ out on yer own.”
“Well, I ain’t worried about a guide.” Bull raised his voice. “It’s the time we’re wasting that worries me. That man could linger for weeks. We gonna sit here that long?”
A murmur rose from the crowd.
“It won’t be weeks,” Eli said. “But if it is, we’ll sit.”
The murmur grew louder, and Bull smirked. “You’d risk trapping us in the mountains rather than pull out? Now that don’t make sense. A lot of trains elect their own captains and travel without a guide. Just give back the money to those of us what want to pull out.”
“Can’t,” said Eli. “It’s been spent on extra supplies.” Everyone but Eli glanced at the crates scattered haphazardly around the supply wagon. “Ya wanna take yer money in supplies, won’t bother me to see ya go.” He stalked to the back of the lead wagon, removing a metal box. Setting it on a stack of crates, he unlocked and opened it. He lifted out Milburn’s book, found the page and scowled at the crowd. Several people looked away, unwilling to be the first to abandon the train.
Bull Gaines hesitated only a moment. “You’d overload our wagons with supplies we don’t need. I want mine in cash.”
Eli’s scowl deepened. With a muttered oath, he lifted a leather wallet from the box. “It’s my own savings, but it’s worth it to get rid of ya,” he said.
While Gaines pocketed the money, another man took a place behind him and a line formed, most willing to take their pay in blankets, flour and the like. Gaines approached Sarah. “You best come with me, missy,” he said. Sarah was too startled to speak. He took it as indecision. “That’s Herman and my nephew.” He indicated his companions at the edge of the crowd. “You’d be safer with us than that old man and his dying friend.”
“No,” Sarah said, barely able to find her voice.
Bull grinned, stepping closer. “You wanna come but can’t say so in front of the boss’s boy.” He touched her cheek with his rough knuckles. “You’ll wish you’d spoke up.”
Sarah drew away, but Gaines only laughed and joined his friends. Sarah wiped at her cheek with her apron.
* * *
The next morning, Rice pointed to each of the wagons scattered on the prairie. “That’s the preacher fella, Fleenor,” he began, “and you know Tom Williams and his family. That one way out there’s the Hess family.” Rice indicated the wagon with the broken wheel. “And next to it is Old Man Daugherty and his wife.” His eyes seemed to brighten as he came to the last wagon. “Them’s the von Schiller family. They don’t hardly speak no English, but the girls are learning a little.”
Sarah smiled ruefully, realizing it was Rice’s version of English they were learning. Even from this distance, Sarah could see that the girls were young women. Rice waved and beamed when the girls waved back.
“Any change?” Sarah asked when Eli joined them.
Eli shook his head. “Tell the folks to bring the wagons in,” he said to Rice. “Let’s make a circle again. And count the men. We need to set up guards for the stock.”
“Yes, sir,” Rice murmured and started away.
“Rice—” Eli stopped him “—find out who has a jack. We still got a wagon to fix.”
Sarah saw Rice hesitate before turning to do as he was told.
The day seemed to go on forever. Sarah divided her time between what mending or cooking tasks she could think of and watching the crippled wagon through the gap in the shrunken circle. She checked on Milburn often, but he was always asleep.
By midafternoon the Hess wagon was hitched and pulled into the circle with the rest. Sarah relaxed a little, realizing she had been worried someone else would get hurt.
Sarah fixed supper for the three of them, which they ate without comment. When the dishes were put away, she decided to turn in. Eli was with Milburn, and she was sure he wouldn’t let her take his place.
She slept with the wagon flap tied open and her head where she could see the stars. Some small sound awakened her. She stuck her head out the wagon and saw Eli sitting near the fire, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He heard her behind him and straightened, waiting until she had found a place to sit before he spoke, then he simply said, “He’s gone.”
* * *
The next morning, Sarah repacked the supply wagon. Tom Williams had lifted the heaviest crates to the tailboard while Rice and Eli finished at the grave. They had had a simple service at dawn and everyone was eager to pull out.
Sarah was trying to remember all of Eli’s rules for loading a wagon when she heard Rice shout. Leaning out of the wagon, she saw a rider coming and Rice waving at him excitedly. The white-and-brown horse picked up speed until it was running directly for the boy, the space between them shrinking at an alarming pace. The fringe on the rider’s buckskin jacket danced to the rhythm of the horse’s gait. In seconds, Rice caught the man’s arm, leaping up behind him, and they galloped away.
Sarah put her hand to her heart to try to slow its rapid beating as the horse and riders made a wide circle in the prairie. In a short time, the horse was walking toward the wagons. This, she decided, must be River.
She had just finished the packing when she heard Eli’s voice. “So I give ‘em supplies in place of their money and promised the ones what stayed that ya’d lead the wagons.”
“You promised them what?” came the reply, and Sarah jumped.
“I woulda promised to do it myself, but I’m an old man, River. Nobody’s gonna listen to me,” Eli replied.
“You’re no older than Milburn.”
“Don’t matter. They’ll trust ya.”
“They don’t even know me.”
Eli’s voice changed slightly. “It was his last wish.”
“It was what!”
Sarah didn’t hear the rest; the blood pounding in her ears had reached a pitch that drowned out the voices. She had turned hot, then cold, and found herself sitting on one of the crates. Her hands were shaking, and she clasped them tightly in her lap. She had to calm down and listen; she must be sure.
Carefully, she moved to the back of the wagon. Holding her breath, she pulled the canvas aside. Eli and River walked past as they talked. The two men stopped and turned to face each other. River was a full head taller than Eli. His hat was encircled by a snakeskin, as Rice had mentioned, with a menacing rattle dangling over the edge of the brim. Long muscular legs were encased in brown twill trousers that disappeared into the tops of knee-high boots. A sheath stitched onto the thigh of the pants held a bone-handled knife. Sarah almost laughed in relief. Her mind was playing tricks on her.
“I’ll bring in the Carroll wagons,” River said.
“We’ll be ready to pull on out when you get back.”
The men shook hands, and River turned in her direction. She jumped back, pressing her face against the cool wagon cover. She hadn’t been mistaken! The new arrival was Daniel!
Sarah waited until Daniel had ridden away before daring to venture out of the wagon. It would only delay the inevitable, but she didn’t want him to see her. How could she have thought she had escaped her past?
But how could she have imagined Daniel Harrison on this train? Rice’s talk of River hadn’t sounded anything like Daniel. And why was he using this strange name?
She finished the preparations for travel out of habit, aware only