Wagon Train Sisters. Shirley KennedyЧитать онлайн книгу.
we are, all alone with no one to help us if something goes wrong, and I know it will.”
Sarah searched for something cheerful to say, but nothing came to mind.
* * * *
They started the day’s trek under bright sunshine and a clear blue sky. By noon the temperature had dropped considerably. The fluffy white clouds that had gathered were soon replaced by the dark, low clouds that signaled an approaching storm. Late in the afternoon, they felt the first raindrops. Ma wanted to stop, but Pa was determined to keep going, rain or no rain. “We must catch up to the Morehead train.” The rain grew heavier, but Pa urged the oxen on. Sarah was riding Rosie, but when her horse started slipping in the mud, she dismounted and led both Rosie and their other horse, Titan. Pa kept going, even though the oxen were straining for all they were worth to move the wagon along the muddy road. To lighten the load, Ma climbed from the wagon and walked with Sarah, both growing colder, wetter, and more miserable as they went along. “Frank, you’ve got to stop,” Ma yelled.
“Just a little farther!” Oblivious to the rain, Pa sat hunched on the wagon seat over the reins. “Don’t want to spend another night alone.”
They stopped briefly to eat. The downpour made it impossible to build a fire, so they dined on beef jerky and hardtack, washed down with muddy water. To Sarah and Ma’s dismay, Pa insisted they start again. As the rain poured harder, the trail got worse, and the oxen started slipping in deep mud. When they came to what resembled an impassable muddy mire, Pa halted the wagon and peered thoughtfully ahead. Ma called up to him, “We can’t get through, Frank.”
He called back, “Yes we can,” and drove the wagon forward. Now the animals were slipping through a heavy, deep, sucking mud that tugged at their hooves and grabbed at the wagon wheels. Finally the wagon sank clear to the axle and sat immobile while the oxen flailed. Sarah grasped the lead ropes for Rosie and Titan. She was guiding them out of the mire onto a grassy spot by the side of the trail when they suddenly broke through the sod and were unable to pull their hooves out. Both animals whinnied and snorted in fright, and began heaving this way and that. Sarah held tight to the ropes. “Rosie, Titan, calm down,” she called over the howl of the wind. Though their eyes were wide with fear, both animals heard her and settled down. Soon Titan broke free of the mud, but Rosie sank deeper.
The rain pounded. The wind howled harder. “Sarah, come get out of the rain,” Luzena called.
Sarah looked to where her parents huddled in the wagon, trying to keep warm. So far, there’d been no leaks in the canvas, so at least they were dry. So tempting. How she’d love to join them. “I can’t leave the horses! Rosie’s stuck. I’ve got to keep her calm. If she panics and starts heaving around, she might break a leg.” She would not desert her horses if she had to stand here until dawn.
Pa climbed from the wagon and unhitched the oxen. At least they weren’t stuck like the horses, and he managed to lead them to a more sheltered spot under some trees by the roadside.
Ma braved the rain and mud to bring her a blanket. Tossing it over Sarah’s shoulders, she said, “This is horrible. What have I done to you?”
“It’s not your fault, Ma.” Her lips were so numb from the cold it was hard to talk. “I don’t blame Pa, either. He did what he thought was best for all of us.”
“I feel so trapped.” Luzena spoke in an anguished whisper that tore at Sarah’s heart. “Every once in a while I think, I’ve had enough of this rain and cold and I’m going to get warm now. Then it hits me—there’s no place to go, nothing I can do. I’m stuck and there’s no escape.”
Sarah looked for words of comfort, but they were hard to find. Nothing to do but somehow, some way, get through this long, horrible night. “We’re going to make it, Ma. Get back in the wagon and try to keep warm.” Such inadequate words but the best she could do.
Drenched and exhausted, Sarah stood between the horses for hours praying for dawn to come and the rain to stop. Without a doubt, this was the worst night of her life. Her feet were like chunks of ice, her clothing frozen stiff. She would never be warm again. At least the horses stayed quiet. Somehow she’d get them out of the mud when morning came. As dawn broke, she was resting her head, eyes closed, against Rosie’s flank when she heard a voice.
“If it isn’t the Widow Gregg. Need some help?”
She opened her eyes. Was it a dream or was Jack McCoy looking down at her from his horse, a little smile playing on his lips?
* * * *
The day before, after Jack and Ben left the Bryans, they had traveled for several hours when Ben held his hand out. “Uh-oh, just felt a raindrop. Judging from the looks of that sky, we’re going to get a downpour.”
Jack hoped Ben was wrong, not for his own sake—he’d ridden through many a storm—but for the sake of the Bryan family. He’d never seen a bunch so unprepared for the hardships of the trail. At least Frank now knew enough to yoke and unyoke the oxen. He’d better know enough to stop the wagon when the rain started. Otherwise…but wait, not his business.
By the time they made camp for the night, rain pelted from the sky and a chill wind caused them to don their warmest gear and cover themselves with the linseed-oil slickers that would at least keep them dry. “Wonder how them Bryans are doing,” Ben called from beneath his poncho. “Like as not, they’re bogged down somewhere.”
“Like as not.” Jack couldn’t sleep. As each hour passed, the rain fell harder and the wind blew stronger. The Bryans had to be in trouble. No way could they survive the night in good shape, what with the ignorance of Frank Bryan. The rain was letting up, but only slightly when he rose and reached for Bandit’s saddle.
Ben poked his head out of the poncho. “What the Sam Hill are you up to?”
“I’m going back.”
“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! You’re going all the way back to help that crazy family?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“I knew it, I knew it.” Muttering under his breath, Ben crawled from beneath his poncho. “You know I’ll come with you, but don’t tell me you’re not interested in the welfare of a certain widow.”
Jack stayed silent. What could he say when Ben had just nailed the truth dead-on?
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