Page 22 of Wagon Train Hope
“Coffee’s ready.” She lifted the pot from the heat and raised it for him.
He snagged a cup and held it steady even when her hand shook—intentionally, for she’d never before struggled with the heavy pot. His unblinking look better inform her he wasn’t threatened…or nervous.
She filled his cup and backed away.
The scalding liquid went down easily. Perhaps he should have consumed a cupful or two before he made his offer because a dozen regrets now raced through his mind. He dismissed them as they appeared. He wasn’t sorry he’d offered to ride with her. In fact—he leaned back with a full plate—it might turn out to be fun. In a strange sort of way.
The beans and biscuits were good, especially with syrup for the latter. He would’ve had another helping, but Irene announced to everyone that she was getting her horse.
On his feet immediately, he trotted out to saddle his mount.
“Thought you might want another biscuit or two,” she called over her shoulder as she arranged her saddle blanket.
He placed his blanket and lifted his saddle before she did. It wasn’t a competition, but still, he didn’t want a girl to best him. He was the first onto his saddle by mere seconds. Expecting she’d head off at a gallop, he tensed, ready to keepup, but she rode sedately. His eyebrows went upward without his permission. Of course, she noticed.
“I’m being considerate of you,” she said.
“Am I supposed to protest? Or should I thank you?”
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I know you don’t like to do anything…” A long, significant pause. “Dangerous.”
Is that what she thought? At his gentle nudging, his horse leaped forward, his pounding hooves eating up the miles.
A laugh rang out behind him.
He glanced back. She leaned forward, her horse at a gallop. Socks was bigger and could easily outrun her smaller mount, but he eased back and allowed her to catch up, so they rode side by side at a lazy gallop until the top of a hill. Signaling her to stop, he pulled up and studied the land. Grass rippled in green waves. Trees filled the hollows. A flash of blue suggested a body of water.
“There.” Irene stood in her stirrups and pointed.
“They’re coming at quite a rate.” Dust behind the wagon billowed skyward. Every muscle in his body tensed. “Something’s wrong.” Bending low over his saddle, he urged Socks to his fastest pace. A glance back revealed Irene doing her best to keep up. Then, his attention riveted to the wagon.
Pa’s oxen were normally driven, a man walking at their side to direct them, but Cecil sat on the seat, and Joe rode beside the lumbering oxen, urging them onward.
Yep. Something was wrong. Walt never should’ve brought Irene here, although she didn’t need an invite. She’d do as she pleased.
Would she hold back and stay out of sight if he asked her to? Avoid whatever danger lay ahead?
He knew the answer without asking.
6
Hopper stretched his legs and gave his all, but Walt was moving away faster than her horse could go. She squinted ahead, but the ground passed too quickly for her to see it clearly.
To think Walt had scolded her for riding too fast, and yet he outdistanced her over unfamiliar, rocky ground. No way would he be able to see a badger hole or hidden danger before it was too late to avoid it. If he got thrown, she’d have no choice but to rescue him.
Her jaw spasmed, and she forced herself to relax. If she had to rescue him, she’d be sure to tell him how risky his behavior was.
The wagon raced toward them. She scanned the back trail but saw no reason for their rush. But Cecil rode in the wagon, clutching the seat as the conveyance bounced and swayed, and Joe urged the oxen to their fastest pace. There was something amiss. Walt reached Joe and stopped to talk to him as they rode. They exchanged words. By the time she caught up, Walt was at the side of the other ox, urging them onward.
Irene swung around to ride with him. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t get all the details, but there was some trouble in town.” His attention was on encouraging the oxen who didn’t like such a fast pace. They blew moisture from their nostrils.
Knowing he was otherwise occupied, she fell back to ride by the wagon. The way it bounced on the rough ground made her wonder if it would arrive in one piece.
“What happened?” she yelled above the thundering noise.
“Ruffians tried to rob us.” Cecil gripped the seat as the wagon jolted. “Had to sneak out of town, but one of them saw us. He yelled that we wouldn’t escape so easily and ran down the street. I guess to find the others. I don’t think they’re going to let us get away.”
