She had gone back to Albany after her release to talk to him, but that was before she had put her past behind her. Nobody here knew anything about her, and she had thought she was safe. Now Daniel was here, and he would ruin everything.
She climbed onto the wagon seat and donned the sunbonnet. She usually went without it as long as the wagon cover offered her shade. If Rice noticed anything unusual, he didn’t mention it. But he was wrapped up in his own thoughts about Milburn’s death and River’s arrival. Daniel’s arrival.
She sighed. What was she going to do? Could she go to him and beg him to keep quiet? Six years ago he hadn’t given her a chance to explain, let alone beg. Why should she expect things to be different now?
She imagined a desperate escape from the train, but here in the middle of nowhere, that was pure foolishness. Rescue by another train would lead to more questions than she could expect from this one.
Rice leaned over the side of the wagon to look behind him. “Here comes River!” he called, straightening in the seat without noticing Sarah jump. “I can call him over so you can meet him.”
“No,” Sarah said too quickly. “He’s busy. I can meet him tonight.”
Sarah watched him gallop past and pull up beside Eli’s wagon. A moment later it started forward. Daniel wheeled the horse and galloped toward the two new wagons. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as Rice called to his team, and they started after Eli. She had been afraid Daniel would come to talk to Rice, but she had been right, he was busy. She could postpone for a little longer the meeting and the painful scene that would follow.
In truth, she had no choice. She had to accept the fact that her charade was over. She would have to live with the shame the truth would cause. But Daniel hadn’t seen her yet. He had ridden away and given her one more day to enjoy her friendship with Rice before that, too, was over.
Chapter Three
River rode away from the wagons to the little rise where he had watched the funeral. He hadn’t known then that it was his friend being buried, that the seven wagons were all that was left of Milburn’s train.
Now he watched the circle of wagons work its way into a straight line, move back onto what the army called a road and head out once again, toward Fort Kearny. The Carroll and Ortman wagons came toward the others and neatly added themselves to the end of the train. That was the first time those two had managed to do anything right.
Dr. Carroll and his brother-in-law had shown up in Leavenworth the night before Milburn had pulled out. Both men and the doctor’s wife had marched right into the saloon to find him, scaring away the girl he had been talking to. When he thought of Prudence Carroll, he wondered why he hadn’t run, himself. She was large and imposing, her eyes condemning him for being where he was, even though she was in the place, too.
Her brother, Ernest Ortman, was tall and as skinny as she was fat. He had tried to match his sister’s glower, but that was a tall order. Dr. Carroll was plain and quiet, everything about him seemed average, at least in contrast to the company he kept.
River would have gladly turned them over to Milburn if they hadn’t been the worst-prepared emigrants he hoped he would ever see. He had spent an entire day helping them buy their supplies, while Ernest Ortman argued with every statement he made. In spite of his good intentions, everything he said or did offended Prudence and Ernest.
“Damn,” he muttered, and the pinto twitched its ears. “I was really looking forward to turning those folks over to Milburn.”
River rode down as the dust settled on the abandoned camp and grave. No marker, he thought. And nobody here to visit it on Sundays. Why mark what no one’s ever going to try to find?
He dismounted at the site. Eli had carefully replaced the sod so it barely looked like a grave. A few of the wagons had even rolled across it, further obscuring its presence. There would be no Indians digging up this grave for clothes.
“Sorry I wasn’t here, boss,” he said, playing with the reins in his hands. “Sure hate to think of you going like that.” He pressed a loose piece of sod into place with a booted toe and looked across the prairie at the receding wagons. “But that was one dirty trick, leaving me in charge. I’m a good scout but a sorry captain.”
* * *
Sarah went about the meal preparations, telling herself she should feel lucky for every minute but knowing the waiting was making her tense and jumpy. Eli had startled her twice, though that had happened often enough before tonight.
“If ya’d take off that silly bonnet, a body couldn’t sneak up on ya so easy,” he had said the last time.
But she didn’t want to take it off. She wore it until the sun was sinking beneath the horizon and she could no longer claim she needed it for shade. Finally, she tossed it into the wagon, glad to be free of it but missing the illusion of safety it had given her.
She set out the last of the dishes and tried to come to a decision. She could plead an upset stomach and refuse supper. It was tempting to go to bed, but she slept in the wagon where all the dishes were kept and the tailboard served as a table. Perhaps she could visit Martha and Amy, tell Eli she had been asked to watch the children for a while.
That seemed like her best choice, and she decided to tell Eli at once. She spun around and gasped. There he stood, leaning against the supply wagon, watching her. His arms were folded across his chest, his hat pushed to the back of his head. One ankle had been casually thrown across the other. He had been there long enough to make himself comfortable.
The sight of him did alarming things to her pulse. He startled me! she thought, but deep inside, she knew it was more than that.
While Sarah was still trying to catch her breath, he spoke. “Sarah Tanton.” It wasn’t a question.
Sarah didn’t know what to say. She took a step backward and steadied herself against the tailboard. It was Daniel, but he looked so different. Maybe it was the buckskin jacket, but his shoulders seemed broader than she remembered. His dark blond hair was longer and sun-streaked. In spite of a few days’ growth of sandy beard, he was at least as handsome as he had been six years ago. It seemed a most inappropriate thought. She tried to ignore it and continue her study of this familiar stranger.
Six years had added some lines at the corners of his eyes, and the sun had darkened his skin, but little else had changed. No, the biggest differences she could find were his clothes and this unusual name, River.
His blue eyes, which she had so often seen dance with mischief, watched her curiously. She still hadn’t found her voice. Her mind seemed to want her to gaze at him forever.
“Rice has been telling me a lot about you,” he said. He pushed away from the wagon and closed the distance between them. She leaned back, bending over the tailboard as he grew nearer, too confused to think of stepping out of his way. He stopped mere inches from her.
“You’re the last person I ever expected to see,” he said in a low voice. “I’d like to know how you managed to be here. But we’ll talk some other time.” He reached around her, lifted a plate from the stack and turned to go.
“Daniel.” She barely breathed his name.
He faced her again. What had she wanted to say? That he was wrong about her? That she could explain? That she still loved him and was ready to forgive him? In the end, she said nothing, and he walked away.
It was then she discovered Eli watching her. She had been so intent on Daniel she had not seen him. Perhaps Daniel had. Had his whispered comment meant he would give her a chance to talk this time? Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps he hadn’t yet said anything to Rice or the others. Could it be that Daniel didn’t want his friends knowing about their former association any more than she did?
She realized she had been staring at Eli without seeing him. He looked from her to Daniel and back, and Sarah quickly turned away. She wanted to run, but Rice