I’d guess you haven’t had occasion to meet many of our fellow travelers yet.”
“No, we haven’t,” Adela replied. “Are all these people making the journey?”
“Yep.” Jed hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and shifted his stance, indicating he planned to stay and chat for a while. “All told, our group’s about two dozen families. Mostly farmers, like myself and the Bakers with their brood of six, and Thomas Malone, a widower with a pair apiece of teenage offspring—two boys, and two gals about your age, missy.”
“By any chance, would that be the two tall, blonde girls standing by the covered wagon near the head of the line?” Adela questioned.
Jed glanced in that direction and nodded. “That’s them.”
Mattie reached for Adela’s arm and gave it a slight squeeze as a subtle signal to shush her.
The younger girl simply shook off her hold, however. “And who is that man on horseback, wearing a brocade waistcoat and starched cravat? He certainly isn’t a farmer.”
“That’s Phillip Hardwick, a fancy British lord. He’s brought along a pair of servants. We also have a doctor and a preacher traveling with us. Then there’s our trail guide, a mountain man and trapper.” Jed fell quiet, his expression expectant.
Clearly, he was hoping the Prescotts would volunteer information about their own background.
And Adela obliged him, despite Mattie’s none-too-subtle elbow to her ribs. “We’re from Saint Louis originally. Now, we’re traveling to join relatives. Our uncle owns a hotel in Oregon City. The Prescott. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Jed shook his head. “I can’t say that I have.”
Mattie cleared her throat and spoke before Adela had a chance. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Smith—”
“Jed,” he inserted.
“Jed. We won’t keep you any longer.”
He tugged his hat brim down lower on his forehead. “Well, I’ll just mosey along and say howdy to some other folks.”
Once he was out of earshot, Mattie turned toward her sister. “You shouldn’t encourage conversation. We must be especially careful that no one discovers the truth.”
Adela pursed her lips. “We’ll draw more attention to ourselves if we refuse to speak to anybody. That will make it seem as if we have something to hide.”
“We do have something to hide.”
“Yes, but we don’t want the others to suspect that.”
Mattie had to concede her sister made a valid point.
Adela waved to a passing woman, who offered them an affable smile. “Besides, chatting helps pass the time.”
“Fine. But please, watch what you say.”
Adela held up one hand as if making a pledge. “I promise not to let words come tumbling out of my mouth with no prompting from my brain. Will that satisfy you?”
“Thank you.”
It quickly became apparent that Jed wasn’t the only person who viewed the delay as an impromptu social gathering. Several others approached her and Adela, including a couple who turned out to be Josiah’s brother and sister-in-law.
Elias Dawson looked to be half a dozen years older than Josiah, but the family resemblance between the two was strong. Blessed with similar good looks, both men were tall and well built. But Mattie estimated Josiah stood an inch or two taller, and his frame carried a bit more muscle than the older man. It was difficult to judge for certain, however, without the pair positioned side by side.
Although a redhead like his brother, Elias’s hair was a darker chestnut than Josiah’s light red-gold hue. The most notable difference between the siblings was that the elder didn’t share the same intense blue eye color that had so struck Mattie the day before. Instead, the older man’s eyes were an ordinary shade of brown.
Rebecca, Elias’s wife, was a petite blonde in her early twenties. She seemed a pleasant woman, with her friendly manner and twin dimples bracketing her charming smile.
Mattie extended the bare minimum of courtesies. Adela, in contrast, chattered on merrily. “You’ll have to excuse Matt. He’s a bit tongue-tied around strangers,” she offered at one point.
Mattie’s stomach was in knots as she agonized over all the things Adela might let slip. But the younger girl skirted around any dangerous topics and steered the conversation toward inconsequential chitchat.
Still, Mattie breathed a sigh of relief when Josiah’s relatives eventually departed.
Time crept by, the minutes turning into hours as they waited their turn to ferry across the river. Mattie’s tension coiled tighter and tighter until she was almost sick with it. If only they were already out on the trail she would feel slightly more at ease. Sitting here, however, she was all too aware that it would be a simple matter for Miles Carpenter to order her and Adela back to Independence. The town was still much too close for her peace of mind.
And it didn’t help that the line of covered wagons inched ahead at a snail’s pace. Every so often she prodded the team into motion and the wagon rolled forward, only to come to a standstill again after a few short feet. This pattern was repeated again and again as morning gave way to afternoon. Until, finally, there was a single covered wagon left in front of them.
“You’re beautiful,” a child’s voice piped up, snagging Mattie’s attention.
She shifted her gaze and spotted a little girl of about five standing beside their wagon, staring at Adela in rapt awe. “Are you a princess?”
Adela laughed in delight. “No. But thank you for the lovely compliment.”
“Sarah Jane Baker, come away from there!” A woman with the same light brown hair and hazel eyes as the little girl rushed over and caught the child’s arm in a firm grasp. “Don’t bother the fine lady.”
“But, Mama,” Sarah Jane protested, tugging against her mother’s hold.
Adela offered mother and daughter a wide smile. “She’s not a bother.”
Mrs. Baker seemed momentarily stunned by Adela’s dazzling expression, but quickly recovered her wits and hastened her child away.
A piercing whistle rent the air, drawing Mattie’s attention to the man waving her forward. It was their turn to board the wooden ferry, at last.
But she immediately hit a snag when she tried to get the oxen in motion. After countless starts and stops, they weren’t inclined to budge any farther. And she had no idea how to persuade them. Though plenty of men used whips to control their teams, she hesitated to do so.
“Get up,” she urged, but to no avail.
One animal stamped his foot, but the team didn’t move forward.
Climbing down from the wagon seat, she walked to the head of one of the oxen and tugged on the
