The Lady Train (Brides of the West Book 16) Page 5

  He chuckled. "I like your spitfire, ma'am. But, I gotta say, marrying a man in a gold field won't be much better."

  She nodded slowly, "Maybe not, but we haven't assigned ourselves to any one man in the gold fields. We'll be free to pick and choose. And if it doesn't work out, we'll find work for ourselves and live."

  "Work? Do you have any idea what kind of work you would find close to a gold mine? Try the saloons. And just from your appearance, I can't see you in one."

  "I look that bad?" She glanced down at herself.

  "No ma'am, you look that good." His glance connected with hers.

  She colored now. "Well I…. no, I guess I not. But I can sew and cook. Surely they need cooks."

  "I can tell you what you are going to find. But I wonder if I should?"

  She studied him again, "Go ahead, I can tell you want to. Like so many others you think we are all a bunch of women who know nothing."

  Cully studied her a moment. "Not exactly. But, alright, you'll find dirty, grungy men who dig for gold by day, drink and lose it by night as most of them gamble and come home only to sleep for a few hours and go right back to the same thing the next day. Day after day. No gold, just hard back breaking work."

  "You paint a pretty dismal picture." She arched a brow.

  "It's the truth." He muttered.

  "And love…you don't think they are capable of love because they work so hard?" She asked, but he could tell he had put a dent in her way of thinking.

  "Oh, they'll think you are all beauties when they see you. Then a month later, after the newness wears off, they'll still be the same, drunk, and broke. Some, maybe, with the right woman might do right by you. And I suppose the right woman could turn a man around too. But, for the most part, it's a lost cause."

  "You have no idea…." She gasped. "We plan on making them a good, clean home, and a pleasant life to come home to. We are all desperate for a good life, we'll make it work. We aren't incapable women, Cully. We've had some rather hard times in our lives. We value our lives and we don't intend throwing them away on worthless men whom our fathers pick out for us."

  He studied her a moment, "Maybe you will, at that. But you'll pardon me for saying so. I think it's you that doesn't believe in love, or you wouldn't be going there. The men at the forts could offer you much more."

  He walked off but turned to look over his shoulder at her. He hated to admit it, but he liked her. He really liked her. And the fact that she hadn't known love, touched him.

  He knew exactly what she was headed for, an escape from where she came. He hoped fervently that she wouldn't create a prison for where she was going.

  Chapter Five

  The shooting practice helped. In a couple of weeks, the women had gotten better. It lifted their spirits how Cully bragged on them though. He knew that complimenting their efforts would keep them striving to do better. And he needed them better.

  The countryside was more barren now, but still the trail was easy to follow with a minimum of trouble for Cully.

  Slim had surprised Cully. He was very good with the gun. Cully liked that he wasn't a hot head though, and that he used it for what it was, it said a lot about the kid. He'd been raised right, Cully acknowledged.

  "Where'd you learn to shoot so well, Slim?" he asked him a few days later.

  "My Pa taught me. He said you gotta learn to shoot else you could get killed fast, protecting your land. He said being fast on the draw was nothing, it was aiming and shooting what you aim at that's important."

  "He's right about that." Cully nodded.

  But they were getting closer to the fort now and a cat had been following along, Slim had alerted Cully to it. The animals were restless, being stirred up at night by the cat calls.

  "Yeah, I heard him last night. I want us to take turns at night, he's after the stock, and he could come pretty close to the wagons, so one man will have to be on watch at all times, until we get to the fort." Cully told the men that same day. The men agreed.

  But two nights later, Cully had been scouting around to try to find the cat. He was having no luck when he finally came back to camp. Johnny and the other men were discussing something as he rode to them.

  Johnny turned to look at him.

  "Something wrong?" Cully asked.

  "Miss Abby's gone."

  "Gone, gone where?" Cully asked, his attention glued to Johnny now. His jaw clenched, as one brow shot upward.

  "She went after some water, but she hasn't come back, Slim tried to find her, there was no trace, except to the riverbed."

  "All of you keep your eyes out for that damned cat. I'll go look for her." Cully sounded disgusted. "She should know better than to go wandering around."

  Slim came up to him, "She didn't wander around, the water pail she took is at the riverbed. But there is no sign of her."

  Cully firmed his lips, "Thanks Slim."

  The fact that she could be in real danger sent a cold chill through him. Indians or the cat? He'd have to talk to the women to make them understand that wandering outside the camp was not a good idea, especially at night. Even if she did just go for water, with a cat on the loose it could spell instant trouble and he knew it. But he hadn't warned them to stay close to camp and that was his fault.

  Determined to find her and get her back to camp, he told the boys to keep the gossip down, he didn't want anyone to start fretting about the cat.

  He traced her tracks to the riverbed. He saw the pail lying there. He wouldn't allow himself to think she might have run into that cat herself. But a cold chill ran up his spine in warning.

  "Miss Abby?" he called out.

  Slug was by his side and he seemed to get her scent.

  Nothing.

  He moved down the river's edge. Surely, she hadn't fallen in and drown? Could she swim? Question he knew he should have asked of all the ladies before he started, went through his mind.

  "Miss Abby?" he called again.

  Nothing.

  Slug whined, then he headed for a big oak tree.

  Cully heard a rustle in the trees and looked up. There was the cat, licking his lips and staring through the darkness at him. He could see the sparkle in his green-gold eyes and meeting his glare he stared for a second before he cocked his gun. He stood very still. The moon was bright, lighting the area with a glow. He didn't move, he just cocked the gun. He knew one wrong move and the cat would jump. He steadied his nerve.

  The cat hissed angrily.

  Slug barked, distracting the cat and making him nervous.

  Cully aimed, and the shot rang out, and Abby jumped from a higher limp, just a couple of branches higher than the cat had been, right into Cully's lap as she knocked him to the ground. "Oh my God, I thought he was going to kill you!" she cried, laying her cheek gently against his, her breath tickling his ear, sending a shockwave of reactions through him.

  He was alerted in more ways than one, but she'd never know it. Control was what he needed around Miss Abby.

  Her body was on top of his and awareness shot through him like a hot branding iron, as he tried to recover from the shock of her jumping into his arms. Her cheek was against his, and his arms went protectively around her, instinctively "Are you alright," he managed to ask with a rather husky voice as she raised herself just enough to look him in the eye.

  "I-I…yes, I'm fine," she pulled herself up enough to stare into his eyes. The urge to kiss her nearly overtook his better judgement. Instead, his hand reached to touch her cheek, softly. It was only a stroke of a callused finger touching a soft cheek, but their differences announced themselves as his finger lingered for a moment and his glance met hers with such intensity. The slight scent of jasmine or lilac, he wasn't sure surrounded them. It was her hair, it smelled like a flower. He'd never been this close to her before to notice. But his mind flitted over her as the softness of her body settled against him. Her eyes widened for a second and he knew he'd been still too long.

  Like gentling a wild animal he
r eyes went from surprise to whimsical at his mere touch. He was so damned happy she was alright and the relief that flooded him, made him almost angry at himself. He certainly wanted to touch more than her cheek at that moment, but good sense prevailed. He couldn't get involved with her. He knew that. But the awareness on her face told him she was feeling more than a little vulnerable, herself. Something, in her eyes softened, just for a second. Beautiful dark eyes stared into his with a question. He couldn't keep staring into those beautiful, and suddenly warm dark eyes, nor ignore the sweet softness of her, but it was the lovely shape of her lips that drew him almost to the point of acting upon impulse.

  Heat radiated between them, he swallowed hard.

  Just then Slug came up to them and started licking her in the face. She chuckled.

  "It didn't take you long to find me, did it Slug." She said and looked at Cully.

  He frowned as his good sense took over, and she jumped to her feet.

  It was apparent she was embarrassed, now. He'd been so busy trying to control his own wayward thoughts, he hadn't given her any consideration. He hadn't meant to embarrass her.

  He got up, recovering quickly.

  She brushed her clothes off, "I've been in that tree forever, it seems." She didn't look at him now but concentrated on composure.

  "Cat's climb too," he smiled at the slight color to her cheeks.

  Pink faced she frowned, "Yes, well, I'm aware of that now. Although, I didn't think a cat that big would climb."

  Cully glanced at the cat, it was huge, and he could easily see how a cat that size would scare anyone. "Are you hurt—anywhere?"

  "Just my confidence is damaged." Still dusting herself off, she stopped and eyed him, "No, I'm not hurt."

  "Good. We better get back now. I'm sure the others heard that shot." Cully informed her.

  She nodded.

  He took her arm and held onto her as they walked back to camp. A couple of times he almost hesitated to stop and take her into his arms. Damn, that cat had shaken her badly, he could feel her shaking but she was doing her best to be brave. He had to admire her for that. No, he couldn't take her in his arms and kiss her like he wanted to. She was after all a mail-order bride. He had no right to her. But the fact that he wanted to, stuck in his mind a while. How long had it been since he'd wanted to kiss a woman and didn't?

  As soon as everyone surrounded them, he let her go.

  "You got him?" Johnny yelled.

  "Yeah, kind of surprised me too." Cully smiled.

  "Where did you find Miss Abigail?"

  "In the same tree as the cat." He almost laughed but seeing her brow arch, he didn't. "I didn't see her until she jumped right on top of me."

  "You mean she was trying to get away from the cat all this time?" One of the women came closer to her. "You poor little thing. You must have had a real fright."

  "A little. I didn't think a cat that size would try to climb a tree." She managed to say.

  "Glad you are alright." All the men told her.

  "Yes, I'm fine…thanks to our Mr. Cully." she exclaimed as the women all walked off with her, she told her tale. She did look over her shoulder at him as they walked away.

  And damned if he didn't stare after her too! Slug barked and joined his side.

  "Well that's one less thing to worry about." Johnny told him.

  "Yeah. From now on though, when a woman leaves camp for anything, we need to escort them."

  Johnny nodded. "Except when they bath or tend to private things."

  "We'll be at the fort soon and they can bath there." Cully told him. As for the other, they should have pots they can use, especially at night. Just have them bury it the next day far away from the river or springs. We'll take shovels and make sure it's taken care of right."

  "Right."

  "You alright, boss?" Johnny asked.

  "Yeah, just glad she could climb that tree so well. I didn't even see her until she fell out. I was eyeing the cat. It could have turned out a lot differently." Cully fretted.

  "Yeah, I guess you are right. And I can see where you are right about watching the women closer now. All kinds of things can happen out here. If she was only a limb or two from that cat, it's a wonder."

  "That's for sure."

  From that moment on, things seemed different for Cully. Being around Abby made him so aware of her and she seemed almost as tense as he was.

  This wasn't good, not good at all. He'd always managed to keep his distance with anyone that traveled on a wagon train. Getting tied up with them only complicated matters. Besides, he was a bachelor and aimed to stay that way.

  What had happened wasn't anything to worry about. He hadn't done the wrong thing. He resisted temptation and survived, but the strain between them magnified and Cully didn't know how to restore the balance.

  I can't become aware of a woman and then suddenly shut it off.

  Strange, he'd always managed before, what was so different now?

  But deep down inside of him, he knew. There was an odd kind of attraction between them. It was like a fine, thin rope that stretched between them. Any minute it might break.

  However, arriving at Fort Kearney would surely change the atmosphere.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning Cully was up early scouting ahead. He was happy to be away from the train. He had some thinking to do. He'd realized that the danger of the cat getting a hold of Miss Abby had spurred a lot of the feelings that overtook him. He wasn't at all used to those feelings. First, there was his own protective nature, and then there was a new element, concern, actual fear she'd be hurt. What made Abby different from any other person on the train? He wasn't sure, but somehow, he had to deal with those feelings and put them in their place.

  He couldn't get involved, and yet, it was such a powerful feeling. One of the things Seth had taught him was not to get involved with anyone on the train.

  He could handle this, somehow.

  Clouds rolled into sky slowly that morning and there'd be rain before the night fell. He could smell it coming.

  Then it hit him, of course, it was the rush of adrenaline that caused him to be so concerned. Sure, that was it. No cause for alarm.

  Feeling better about the situation he quickly shook his head, there was no situation. Just a bit a life's drama, that was all.

  Satisfied that he'd reasoned his reactions out, he got busy with his work. He also quickly determined that Miss Abby, nor any of the other women on the train, could not be a distraction. Distractions caused accidents.

  He tested the next watering hole, checked for any activity in the area, signs of Indians or anything suspicious, then returned to the train. So far everything was going smoothly.

  Still, when he rode up he saw Abby petting Slug again. She seemed to really like the dog. Maybe that came from never having a pet, he told himself. Funny thing was, Slug liked her too. Cully could tell. He didn't shine up to many women.

  As they moved toward Ft. Kearney, he began to plot his camps in his mind. The trail was the same trail that hundreds of other trains had followed, but each train found their own campgrounds and used water from different areas. As a safety precaution Cully liked to camp away from the river far enough that the train wouldn't be emptying their waste near it. That alone would insure they would not cause the Cholera to spread. After looking at the news maps he had of the trail, he already knew, he didn't want to take them through the deserts of Salt Lake, he feared too many complications, no, he'd turn off the Oregon Trail when he reached Ft. Hall. He made that decision himself. It wouldn't be as long a trip through desert like lands.

  When he returned to camp, Abby had breakfast ready. The fat back and pancakes looked great and the coffee smelled wonderful. One big difference in this train was the cooking, women did all the cooking and shared easily with the handful of men, but the food was mouth-watering good too and he always looked forward to their meals.

  Abby poured him a cup of coffee. "Well, how does it loo
k up ahead?" She asked, her normal composure intact, as he settled against the chuck wagon to eat.

  "It's a smooth ride right now, but not for long. A few days we'll be getting into rougher territory. Lots of wagons come through here every year and it makes it easier except in spots. I'm testing the water supply every day."

  "Oh, why?" She asked innocently. "Is the water a real concern?"

  He stared into those dark, expressive eyes. "On a wagon train, yes ma'am. Cholera. You see, when people dump their waste too close to the rivers, it creates bad water and that means Cholera. We've learned this through experience traveling the trail. With so many people moving west, that can be dangerous for any train. There are signs that several trains have already come through this way, ahead of us. I like to avoid it as much as I can. So, if you could tell the women not to dump their waste in the river, that would be appreciated."

  "I will, of course. I had no idea. I mean you didn't say anything about Cholera before."

  "That's because at the time I didn't know how congested the trail has been. And, I really don't like to start nagging about things right off the bat. But you asked about the water, so I told you." He stared at her long and hard. He debated whether it was the right time to say anything, but he promised Bertha he would. "Look, this may not be any of my business. But, I don't think you have any idea what you are getting yourself into, either."

  "What do you mean by that?" She huffed.

  "I mean, a wagon train full of women going to marry men, sight unseen, in a gold field of all places."

  She firmed her lips, her agitation showing in the way her worry wrinkle creased her forehead. "Mr. Cully. I don't tell you how to run a wagon train, don't tell me who to marry. That's one of the things I'm running away from, pushy men."

  He nodded, "Fine, can't say you haven't been warned, though."

  "Warned of what?" She snapped, no longer hiding her anger over the subject.

  "I don't know what you think you are getting into, but those men, in the gold fields are basically all the same. They live hard and die hard. They dig for gold, if they are lucky they might find a chunk, then they go play poker half the night and get drunk. When they go home they are as broke as the morning they woke up to. That's what I mean. I don't know what you expect, but it won't be no lace curtains and gold rings. They are dirty drunks, most of them, and know as much about ladies as I do."