Wed On The Wagon Train. Tracy Blalock
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“That’s good to hear. Just see that you remember to stop and think before going off half-cocked. Your sister’s depending on you.”
Matt’s head came up and a look of surprise flashed across his face.
“Miles mentioned it’s just you and your sister,” Josiah explained.
“Oh.” He seemed discomfited to find he’d been a topic of conversation. “Well, I better get going now. Thank you again.”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed as Matt hurried away. With his focus initially on Hardwick, he’d only gotten a brief glimpse of the kid’s face before it disappeared beneath his hat brim. And afterward Matt had appeared reluctant to meet his gaze. Maybe the boy was simply shy. But Josiah didn’t quite believe that explanation. Not after Matt had confronted the haughty Brit deliberately.
But if the kid had lied about his age, would that account for his evasiveness?
Or was he hiding something more?
* * *
Mattie glanced back and found Josiah watching her, a speculative expression on his face. Had his blue eyes seen too much? After getting a good look at her face, had he guessed her true gender?
Was that the reason he’d stepped in unasked to defend her? Not because she was smaller than the high-and-mighty earl’s son, but because he had realized she was a woman? Though her heart sank at the thought, she tried to remain calm. If he’d worked out the truth about her, surely he would have reported her to the wagon master.
Wouldn’t he?
She pushed away the worrying question. She could only assume that her secret was safe. At least for the time being.
But one thing had been made clear to her—she needed to do a better job of taking care of herself. This time, she’d been fortunate not to end up with a nasty welt—or worse. She couldn’t expect someone to ride to her rescue every time she ran into trouble. She had to learn to deal with problems on her own. She couldn’t risk allowing anyone to get close enough to discover the truth.
With that in mind, she kept her head down to discourage any friendly greetings as she made her way through the town’s congested streets, thronged with people preparing for the trail.
It was already nearing noon, and time was in short supply for her to get everything ready for their imminent departure.
Their father had outfitted them well for the journey, but when he’d taken ill their covered wagon and oxen had been left at the livery stable, while the Prescott family took rooms in a nearby boardinghouse.
The livery was her first stop.
Stepping into the dim interior, she searched out the stable master. He accepted without comment her explanation that she was a young man running an errand for the Prescott sisters, and he promised to have the oxen hitched to the wagon and delivered to the boardinghouse first thing the following morning.
Their supplies had remained loaded in the covered wagon, and all that was left for them to do tomorrow was add the trunks of personal items, which still needed to be packed back at the boardinghouse.
She’d left Adela there alone without explanation and had been gone longer than she’d anticipated. The younger girl must be frantic by now. Mattie felt terrible for causing her sister additional fear and worry, after the last ten days of uncertainty they’d already gone through since their father’s passing.
As she neared the boardinghouse, her steps slowed. The livery had been easy, but this next part might prove more challenging. While a strange male roused little suspicion in a stable, his presence wouldn’t go unquestioned in a genteel rooming establishment.
But she’d come too far to lose her nerve now.
Straightening her shoulders, she turned the knob on the front door. The hinges squealed as the heavy oak door swung open. She winced and swept a furtive look around. Seeing neither the landlady nor any of the other boarders, she quickly headed toward the stairs. All the way up to her room, she expected to hear a voice behind her demanding to know why she was skulking through the house. But she didn’t encounter anyone.
She opened the door to her room and stepped inside, a sigh of relief gusting out of her tight chest.
Adela was bent over an open trunk, a silver-backed hairbrush in her hand. She glanced up as the door clicked shut. Her eyes widening in fright, she let out a high-pitched shriek.
“Shh, Adela.” The last thing they needed was someone bursting into their room to investigate.
She took a step toward her sister.
But the other girl backed away. “Don’t you come any closer, or I’ll scream again,” she warned, brandishing the hairbrush as if it was a sword.
“Adela, it’s me.” Removing her hat, she set it on the marble-topped bureau.
“Mattie? You scared me to death!” The hairbrush slipped from her fingers, and she placed her hand over her heart. Then her mouth dropped open as she took notice of Mattie’s altered appearance. “What happened to your hair?!”
Mattie fingered a short lock. She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know what she’d see—ragged chunks cut close to her head, instead of the long brown curls that had reached almost to her hips.
Adela plopped down onto the bed. “And why are you dressed like that? Those look like Papa’s clothes.” Tears filled her eyes at the mention of their father.
“These are Papa’s clothes.” She dropped her hand from her shorn strands, refusing to mourn anything as silly as hair. The loss of their beloved father was much more significant. The pain throbbed like a physical wound, but she kept a tight rein on her emotions. Though they’d buried him little more than a week ago, she couldn’t wallow in grief. “I came up with a way for us to reach Oregon Country.”
And she’d acted quickly, not giving herself time to rethink the daring plan and change her mind. After hacking off her hair, she’d changed into her father’s clothes. He had been taller and broader than Mattie, and the garments hung on her. But the loose material helped to disguise her feminine figure.
Adela wiped a tear away and shook her head in confusion. “How can we do that? Two females can’t travel alone, Matilda. You know that.”
“You seem to be missing the fact that we aren’t two females anymore. Matt Prescott, at your service.” She executed an exaggerated bow.
“Do you really think you’re going to fool anyone with that ridiculous getup?”
“I fooled you, didn’t I? Or was it someone else who screamed and threatened me with a hairbrush when I entered the room?”
Adela colored at the reminder. “You surprised me. I would have realized it was you in a moment or two.”
“True. But you’re my sister. A stranger won’t know me from Adam. I was out most of the morning dressed like this, and nobody doubted I was a man.” Though to be completely honest, Josiah Dawson