Wagon Train Cinderella. Shirley KennedyЧитать онлайн книгу.
arms, he accepted the cup from Callie, took a leisurely sip, and addressed Pa again. “I’ve crossed the country several times and lived in the wilderness much of my life, so I know what I’m talking about. You don’t want to make the crossing alone. There’s safety in numbers, like when the Indians attack, or when crossing rivers, or when you get stuck in the mud. If you get injured or sick, we’ve got a doctor who’s traveling with us. And there’s also…”
By the time Luke had finished, Callie was more convinced than ever that crossing the country in a covered wagon by themselves was complete folly. They should not make the journey alone and would meet disaster unless they joined the Ferguson wagon train.
Pa listened with studied indifference, appearing engrossed in the proper yoking of his oxen. When Luke finished, Pa looked up. “Is that all?”
“Yep.”
“We’ll be going alone.”
“If Indians, dangerous river crossings, snakes, and lack of medical care can’t persuade you”— Luke shrugged—“then I wish you well on your journey, and may God be with you.”
Pa shot Luke a piercing glance. “God is with me at all times, Mister McGraw. With His help, I will continue this journey alone, without the slightest doubt we shall arrive safely in the golden land. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He turned his back and walked away.
Callie wanted to cringe at Pa’s rudeness, even though Luke didn’t seem to mind. He gave a wry grimace. “I hope he’s right.” He took a final sip of coffee and swung back on his horse. His gaze swept their campsite. “Where are your stepsisters?”
How disappointing. What he probably meant was, where is Lydia? No doubt he was smitten and wanted to see her again. “Lydia and Nellie like to sleep as late as possible. They won’t come out until it’s time to eat breakfast. Ma, too.”
Luke frowned. His jaw tightened in a way that indicated he’d like to say something but thought better of it. “You’re a hard worker.”
“I like hard work.”
“Really?” His expression held a touch of mockery. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Go right ahead.” Her life was a dull open book. She had nothing to hide.
“How long have you been with the Whitakers?”
“That’s easy. From the day I was born, or soon after. They found me on their doorstep and were kind enough to take me in.”
“You don’t know who your parents are?”
“Ma suspects my mother was one of the fancy women who worked at the saloon in town. All I know is, they took me in and gave me a roof over my head. I’m forever grateful.”
“I see that. You work very hard.”
“Yes, of course I do—to repay them for their kindness.”
“Hmm…”
He seemed to be fighting to keep his words back. “You have something to say, Mister McGraw?”
“Yes, I have something to say. From what little I’ve seen, you do more than your share. By now, isn’t this debt you feel you owe paid in full?”
Nobody had ever asked her such a question before. No one had ever cared that much to ask. “It’s a debt that will never be paid in full.”
He frowned at her answer. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life being treated like a, like a…”
“Servant?”
“Yes, servant.” He sounded annoyed. “That’s not right.”
“Perhaps not, but that’s my lot in life.”
His eyes rolled skyward. He swore something under his breath then remained silent.
She surprised herself by blurting, “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”
“I’ve got to get back.” He touched a finger to his hat. “Good day then, Callie Whitaker. Have a safe journey, and for God’s sake, put a little fun in your life.”
He wheeled his horse around and headed back across the meadow. She would never see him again. She’d still be thinking about him, though. Never before had she met a man who saw her as a person, not just a servant girl. He said she was a hard worker. How strange to hear a man say something nice about her. If he’d told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, she couldn’t have been more flattered.
“Callie, have you got breakfast ready?” Lydia appeared, tousle-headed and still in her white flannel nightgown.
“Almost. You’d better hurry up.” For once, Callie’s usually agreeable voice held an edge. She’d clearly understood Luke’s unspoken words. You work too hard. Why aren’t your stepsisters here to help?
Why not indeed? Luke’s comments had unleashed a vague feeling of resentment. Why did she have to do most of the work? According to Ma, both her stepsisters were too delicate and frail to make more than a token effort at doing chores. But were they really? Why couldn’t they do more of the work? She always ended up doing all of it, and that wasn’t right. Was she truly fated to be an unpaid servant all her life?
“Callie!” Ma called. “Soon as you finish breakfast and wash the dishes, see that Tommy is dressed and everything’s packed.”
“Yes, Ma.” Reaching for the biscuits, Callie set her rebellious thoughts aside. Ahead lay another grueling day. There’d be no time for silly resentments. She’d need every bit of energy she possessed just to survive.
* * * *
Although she never had one of her own, Callie loved horses. They had brought along several: Pa’s horse, a palomino named Duke, the mounts for Andy and Len, a reliable filly named Pearl, her buckskin yearling, Jaide. She especially loved Jaide and hoped she could train and ride him someday. In the meantime, riding Duke was one of the few pleasures of the journey. At home, she had taken care of the handsome gelding, although Pa had never let her ride him. Now, since Pa spent most of the day driving the wagon, he allowed Callie to saddle Duke and walk him alongside the train, a welcome break from having to trudge on foot. Thank goodness, Ma, Lydia, and Nellie didn’t object. They’d never shown the slightest interest in horses. Lydia, in particular, tried to avoid “the scary things.” Pa didn’t trust Tommy with any of his animals, so, to Callie’s delight, she had Duke to herself and rode as often as she could.
Today was no exception. After the two wagons started their daily trek and the handymen got the cattle moving, Callie swung into the saddle and urged Duke forward. She glanced across the meadow. The circle of wagons was gone. So they’d already left. Ah, well. The day was sunny, the heavily wooded scenery beautiful, and she shouldn’t complain, even though she wished she could have talked to Florida again, and Luke, too.
Occasionally, one of the hired hands joined her when they weren’t busy herding the hundred head of cattle. She enjoyed riding with them both. Andy, always smiling and friendly. Len, always arrogant and slightly condescending, but never boring. They both possessed a contagious enthusiasm that brightened her day, and no wonder. They were going to get rich! Soon as they got to California, they’d start gathering those gold nuggets that lay for the taking all over the ground.
Skinny, sharp-nosed Len pulled his horse alongside hers. “Little Mouse, how goes it today?”
Little Mouse. He’d picked that up from her family. She didn’t like it but never thought to object. Not until now. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
His mouth pulled into a mocking grin. “I call you that because you are a little mouse, a meek little mouse who always does what she’s told.”
“I could change.”
“You?” Len snickered. “That’ll be the day. Better stay like you are.