The balance was still tipped against her, and the fact that she owed him made her leery. A debt could be used to ruin a person, as she’d learned back in Saint Louis.
She never again wanted to be trapped in a position where she was beholden to anyone for anything. And seeing to Josiah’s horse right now would help serve as repayment, at least in part.
Her decision made, she ducked under the rope and moved to the mare’s side. Running a hand down the leg, Mattie didn’t find any signs of injury and lifted the hoof to examine it.
She discovered a rock lodged in the underside and worked to remove it. “You poor baby. Little wonder you didn’t want to stand on this hoof.”
Once the stone popped free, she released the mare’s hoof and straightened. The sound of approaching hoofbeats reached her ears, and she turned to see Josiah atop his mount.
Reining to a stop, he slid to the ground and stared at Mattie’s position inside the fence with his horses.
She shifted nervously under his regard and rushed to explain. “I was just removing this rock from her hoof.” She kicked the offending object out of the corral.
“I know. I saw what you were doing.”
Her palms grew moist, and she wiped them against her pant legs. “Then why are you looking at me as if I’m an undiscovered species of bug you’ve pinned to a board in order to study?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “Perhaps you are a previously unknown species, at that. You’re certainly not what I expected.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, then wondered whether she truly wanted to hear his unvarnished opinion of her—or rather him? Was she prepared for whatever Josiah might say? Probably not. But it was too late for her to call back the question.
“Well, it’s been my experience that most high-society gents leave the dirty work to others. Take Hardwick, for example. While he’s arguably a competent rider, I have yet to witness him caring for his own mount. Odds are, he’s never even considered removing a rock from a horse’s hoof, beyond ordering someone else to see to it. But you? You plainly have the know-how. I find that rather unusual.”
If he thought it unexpected in a male, he wouldn’t imagine for even an instant that a gently bred lady possessed such skills. Thus, she could be relatively certain he would never deduce her true identify. That was a relief. But he still seemed to be waiting for an explanation, and she had no idea what to say.
She supposed she could have told him that after her mother’s passing the stables had become her refuge when she needed to escape the oppressive atmosphere of mourning inside the house. Surrounded by the horses, she’d found a measure of peace. And the long hours spent in the barn meant she knew the grooms’ and stable hands’ jobs almost as well as they did.
But she only said, “A little work’s never bothered me. I like knowing I can take care of myself without the need for servants. It’s a sorry state of events when a body can’t even get dressed without assistance.”
Josiah cocked his head to the side. “You’re full of surprises, kid.”
He had no idea just how true his words were. And that’s the way it had to stay.
“Well, I’d better get back to Adela now.” She exited the enclosure and started toward the wagons, then abruptly turned back. “It’s probably a good idea to keep an eye on that hoof tonight, check that the rock didn’t do any damage that might be exacerbated by further travel.”
“I’ll do that.”
Nodding once, she spun on her heels and walked away.
As she neared the wagon circle, the wind picked up, flapping the canvas bonnet material of the wagons against the arched wooden supports. Flames from the campfires leaped higher. Dirt flew into her eyes, making them water, and the cold air stung her exposed cheeks.
Arriving at her covered wagon, Mattie spotted Adela struggling to weave a little girl’s brown hair into braids while the wind did its best to whip the strains out of her hands. The child’s presence no longer came as a surprise—it had taken mere days for little Sarah Jane to become Adela’s shadow.
And Edith Baker’s youngest wasn’t the only child who was often underfoot. The smaller children seemed irresistibly drawn to Adela, who had stood by her promise to keep them entertained and occupied. Often with the aid of another girl about her age, Charlotte Malone.
The mothers appreciated the help riding herd on their little ones, while Adela in turn benefited from the support of other females. Since Mattie wasn’t in a position to fill that role herself, she could only be grateful for the women’s acceptance of her sister.
Despite the fear that it might put her secret at risk.
She simply had to trust that Adela was ever mindful of the danger and guarded her tongue around the others. Just as Mattie did with Josiah and the other men.
“Supper’s going to be full of grit,” Mattie commented, noting the uncovered pot suspended above the cooking fire. The cast-iron lid clinked into place as she remedied the situation.
“Sorry.” Adela grimaced and brushed aside loose tendrils of hair the wind blew across her eyes. “I forgot to replace the cover after I stirred the food. But at least I didn’t let it burn this time.”
Mattie made a noncommittal sound in response.
Despite Rebecca Dawson’s instructions, Adela’s cooking ability hadn’t improved much over the past fortnight. More often than not, Mattie returned to camp after completing her own chores only to find the food burned or otherwise unappetizing. But at least Adela’s complaints had decreased. With all the challenges they faced, Mattie supposed that small victory was enough for now.
* * *
After supper that evening, Josiah and Elias worked together to stake their covered wagon to the ground, to prevent it tipping over in the high winds that hadn’t abated as the sunlight waned.
The task complete, Josiah glanced around the wagon circle to see that most other families had done the same. Or were making a start on it, at least. Including Matt Prescott.
The past couple weeks had proved that the kid was adept at learning what to do by observing those who were more experienced. He had conquered many an obstacle in that way.
But this job looked to be getting the better of him. Though he clearly understood what needed to be done, he struggled with the heavy iron chains. And his slight frame didn’t have the sheer weight required to swing the unwieldy mallet with enough force to drive the stakes deep into the hard-packed earth.
Josiah started forward, and as he neared the Prescotts’ wagon, he caught Matt muttering, “This would be a lot easier if I had a third hand.”
Squatting down next to the kid, Josiah held out his palms. “How about one of these?”
Matt gasped and narrowly missed smashing his thumb with the mallet.
Josiah curled his hands into fists and let them drop. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to startle you. But you’re right—this will be quicker work with an extra set of hands. Why don’t you thread the chain between
