of sight, Ruthie emerged, climbed down onto the ground and headed straight for the big black horse tied up at the corner of the wagon.
* * *
“Why, Jenna,” Emma Lincoln exclaimed. “How are you doing?” She gestured at the fire pit behind her, where a blue speckleware coffeepot steamed. “Do sit and have some coffee with us.”
“No, thank you, Emma. That is kind of you, but I have come to speak with Sam.”
The large, graying man rose from his seat by the campfire and came toward her. “How’s your driver working out?”
“I—Well, that’s just it, Sam. I came to ask you—”
“I bet I can guess. The girls don’t like him.”
“Well, no, they don’t. Except for Ruthie, and she loves everyone. But—”
“And you don’t like him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Is he rude? Or mean to the girls or you?”
“Well, no.”
“Talk too much? Spit tobacco juice? Smoke too many cigarettes? Drink spirits?”
“N-no. It’s that he—”
“Shot your husband.”
Jenna nodded. “It is difficult to be around him. The girls hate him, and I...well, I don’t hate him, exactly. But, well, he did kill Mathias.”
Sam Lincoln pressed her down onto his vacated seat and squatted in front of her. “You’re right, he did kill Mathias. Mathias was stealing his horse. Now, let me say something on Carver’s behalf.”
Jenna twisted her head away. She didn’t want to hear anything Sam had to say; she just wanted Lee Carver off her wagon and as far away from her as he could get.
“Carver’s a good man. Stepped right up and asked to make it right with you and yours by driving your wagon on to Oregon. He didn’t have to do that. Nobody holds Carver to account for shooting Mathias. It’s the risk any horse thief takes.”
“But I can’t abide...”
“You don’t have to like him, Jenna. Fact is, nobody on this train likes him much. He’s a Virginian and a Johnny Reb, a Confederate major.”
Jenna stared into the fire. “He’s the only Confederate soldier on the train. And that horse of his! Did you know he hand-feeds the animal? With oats that I could use to make mush.”
“That horse is pure Arabian, worth about a thousand dollars. Carver plans to breed horses for the army. The Union army,” he added. “Ever since the surrender, Carver’s been with our army, fighting the Sioux.”
“Oh.”
Sam laid a gentle hand on her hunched shoulder. “Anything else botherin’ you?”
“Sam, is there no one else who would volunteer to drive our wagon?”
Sam shook his head. “I trust Lee Carver. Might be a Reb, but like I say, he’s a good man. There’s some on this train that aren’t so good. Some I wouldn’t trust around you and three young girls. You take my meaning?”
Jenna nodded. Once again she felt helpless, caught at the mercy of a man she didn’t know but had to accept.
“You have any trouble, Jenna, you come to me, agreed?”
She bit her lip. Emma stood near the fire, pouring coffee into a ceramic mug. The older woman looked inquiringly at her. It did smell rich and enticing, but Jenna shook her head. She had duties back at her own camp.
Jenna knew that Lee Carver had been a Confederate soldier, as Emma had said. Well, she didn’t admire him for that. The South favored slavery, and her father had died opposing it. Besides, she just plain didn’t like the man.
She should have asked Sam how far they were from Oregon, how long she would have to put up with Lee Carver. Months, probably. Oh, Mathias, I wish...
No, she acknowledged, she did not wish him back. Not even with the baby coming. The man she had married in such desperate haste back in Roseville had turned out to be no bargain. But now she was stuck traveling in that tiny, cramped wagon with all their earthly goods crammed in among sacks of flour and sides of bacon with the man who...
She folded her hands over the slight swell of her belly and stared at the thick grass under her feet. It was difficult before; it would be intolerable with Mr. Carver. Perhaps...
She raised her head and rounded the corner of the wagon just in time to see Ruthie bounce up beside that huge black stallion and reach out to pat its side. Then she stepped backward, toward the animal’s hind legs.
With a gasp Jenna started forward, and in that same instant she heard a shout.
“Ruthie!” Out of nowhere Lee Carver appeared, running hard. He snatched the girl up into his arms and barreled straight into Jenna, who was racing from the opposite direction.
Lee managed to keep his body underneath Ruthie as he fell, but he knocked Jenna sideways and felt his elbow connect with her cheek. He lay still, catching his breath, while Ruthie clung to his chest, her small head just under his chin.
“Ruthie?” he rasped. “Ruthie, are you all right?”
Her head moved in a nod, and her small voice answered. “I wanted to pet the horse.”
Jenna picked herself up off the ground and flew at him, batting his hands away from Ruthie. “You fool!” she screamed. “She might have been killed!”
A red mark bloomed on her cheek where his elbow had clipped her. He sat up slowly, feeling a muscle pull in his shoulder. “It’s my fault,” he shouted. “I’m sorry. I’m thankful Devil didn’t kick her.”
“That horse is dangerous! I don’t want it anywhere near our wagon.”
Lee got to his knees before realizing he must have hit his head on the wagon wheel when he went down. He was so dizzy he felt like vomiting. He rocked back onto his heels and put his head between his knees while Jenna paced around him like a stalking cougar.
“Get rid of that animal,” she ordered. “Now. Tonight.”
He shook his head to clear it and she gave a little screech. “Did you hear me? I said—”
“I heard you. Stop yelling for a minute and listen.”
“Listen! What can you possibly say that will...” Her voice was unsteady. Oh, hell, she was going to cry. He tensed, waiting for the tears.
But she surprised him. She spent the next five minutes calling him names and maligning his horse, and he let her get it all out of her system. But no tears. She was tougher than she looked.
