Claimed on the Frontier (6 page)

Home.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, and I marveled at the softness of his voice and touch before I hurried to obey. And as I lay myself on the makeshift bed in the back of the wagon, I was left alone with my thoughts. Even though being punished was mortifying—and I felt more eager to obey him than I ever had, the mere thought of another chastisement terrifying—I couldn’t help but remember every vivid detail. His hands on mine. The way his eyes flashed, and the feeling of being overpowered while turned over his knee. His sharp, scolding tone, and the sting of his palm on my backside. And as I played every detail over in my mind, I realized with surprise that even though much of what I felt was unclear to me, there was one thing I knew for sure.

Aaron had made me feel no more a girl, and every bit a woman.

* * *

We camped for the night, and were awoken by the sharp cry of a bugle before the sun rose. I sat up straight in bed, alone in the wagon, as the men all camped outside to give me privacy. The wagon was more of a place for storage than anything, and the space within was cramped, but I made do with a small bed in the corner. My heartbeat thundered in my chest and I listened for the stirring of my companions. Not surprisingly, I could hear Aaron and Samuel already on their feet outside the wagon, and a low murmur before Aaron’s voice sounded outside the entrance to the wagon.

“Pearl?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, draping my shawl over my shoulders. “What is it?”

He stood outside to give me privacy, but spoke in my direction so I could hear him.

“We’re near a camp,” he said. “That bugle is not far off. We must be nearer than we thought to the wagon train. We need to join them as quickly as possible.” I squinted my eyes to see in the dim light as he continued. “I’m drawin’ the string now so I can give you your dried clothes.”

The wagon was tied from the outside by a drawstring that tucked the edges of the oiled cover together, instead of the gaping space left when we undid the ties. As the dim light of dawn peeked in the cover, I saw a blur of white as my neatly folded garments were shoved into the back.

“Thank you,” I murmured. I eagerly snatched my clothing and dressed, running my hands through my wild hair and doing my best to tame it in a quick plait down my back.

A wagon train! The trail was dangerous for many reasons—Indians, unknown territory, illness, thirst, and hunger. Travelers frequently traveled in groups, sometimes upwards of several dozen at a time. Makeshift leaders were elected to determine the route travelers would take, each taking shifts on the night watch and a bugle’s call at first light alerting the travelers that it was time to awake and begin travel preparations for the day ahead. Aaron had explained the logistics of such traveling methods, and though he was stoic about it, I knew he lamented having fallen behind the train they traveled with. His father had had business to tend to in his old home, and Aaron had sent his mother and brother ahead to claim new land while he finalized his father’s business. It had taken far longer than he’d planned. Now his practical nature encouraged him to seek the safer route. I’d feared my escapade the day before had set us back unnecessarily, but now we had a chance to finally join a group of travelers, and earlier than we’d anticipated. I could hear the others gathering our supplies quickly outside our wagon, as I opened the back of the wagon and went to meet them.

They’d already gotten most of camp ready to pack up, and I rapidly tended to the oxen as they finished tending to the fire and supplies.

“Up on the seat,” Aaron instructed me.

He murmured softly beside me as we continued, low enough that his brothers would not be able to hear.

“There’s no tellin’ what this group of travelers will be like. Many are civilized and kind, eager to help one another along the journey. But others are uncouth, travelin’ in packs with little leadership or civility. This is a risk we take, in an attempt to travel safely.” He paused, and I wondered why he was explaining this to me. In the short time I’d been with him, I observed that it was rare he took the time to explain his thoughts or reasoning for decisions he made. “No matter what lies ahead, it’s likely in your best interest if they assume you’re my wife.”

I stifled a gasp. “Your wife?” I whispered.

He worked his jaw as he nodded. “I’ll not tell a lie, but in this case, it may be wisest not to offer more than necessary. Havin’ you by my side here may imply you’re mine, and that may work in our favor.”

You’re mine.

The words had an immediate and unexpected effect on me.

The thought of being truly wed to him—
his—
held an undeniable appeal. As protective as he’d been with me when I
wasn’t
his… how different would it be if I
were
? I folded my hands in my lap and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

I trusted him. If he said this was the safest plan, I believed him. I knew his steadfast dedication to scrupulous honesty prevented him from uttering a lie, and knew that even the implied dishonesty he was considering came from a place of concern.

“Sit closer to me, please,” he murmured softly.

Crickets and cattails!
I’d have sat on his lap if he’d asked me. I stifled a giggle even as I felt a tingle of eagerness at his soft command. As we traveled on, I could hear the clanging of pots, and voices ahead indicating we were drawing nearer to camp.

I sat so close to him, a hard jostle would have my knees knocking against his thighs, but I sat rigidly apart.

“You’re a good girl.”

I felt an unexpected prickle of tears sting my eyes. He rarely uttered praise, even to his brothers, though I’d seen him just a few days earlier tell Matthew he’d done a fine job hitching up the oxen, and Matthew’s visible pleasure at his brother’s approval made me smile. Now, the emotions that rose in me were unexpected and surprising. I didn’t know how to respond so I sat silently by his side and merely dipped my head meekly. As I did, my eyes traveled to his sturdy thighs beside my faded calico skirt—the breadth of his lap and his large, powerful hands holding the reins. I imagined myself stretched over those thighs, as I’d been the previous day, his grip upon my waist holding me in place, his rugged hands punishing me, sharp strokes of his palm against the thin fabric of my skirt.

And my thoughts grew darker.

The two of us alone, as he lifted my skirt. The touch of his hand on my bare skin. I’d never known the touch of a man, never been so much as kissed by a boy. I did not know what couples did behind closed doors. I did not know what was right or wrong, or if it were natural to imagine his hands on my naked skin. I only knew how Aaron made me feel.

I wanted to be held by him. I wanted to feel his lips against mine. What happened after a kiss? I had no inkling of any of these things. All I knew was that I enjoyed being in his physical presence, and my body yearned to be closer to him. But my thoughts ended abruptly as a glow of fire lit up the dark of morning and we pulled closer to camp.

Two young men stood sentry by the road, and they stepped closer to us as we approached.

“Mornin’,” one said. His face was dirty, his scraggly beard scant, and his hair unkempt, thick, and long beneath a straw hat. His eyes took in our wagon, the boys on either side, Aaron beside me. And with a slow, deliberate raking of his eyes over me, he noticed how closely I sat next to Aaron. To my shock, Aaron’s hand went over mine protectively, and I knew he was doing what he said he would—allowing them to believe I belonged to him.

I breathed a bit easier and did not move for fear that Aaron would withdraw his hand. I loved how it felt.

“Good morning,” Aaron said pleasantly. “We traveled with a group heading west, but had a holdup and couldn’t stay on with our company. We camped just a short distance away when we heard your morning bugle call, and our hope is to join your caravan.”

“How many in your company?” asked a smaller man beside the dirty one, and my eyes went to him. He was younger, but more well-kept and clean-shaven, with short hair and bright blue eyes. He had the air of a young general, in command of himself and those around him. He stepped in front of his companion as Aaron answered.

“Four total,” he said, still holding my hand. “We have provisions. Firearms to aid in your protection.”

“Pelts?” asked the other, and the young man who stood closest to us turned an angry eye to his companion.

“They needn’t barter to join our train, Zachariah,” he chided. “None to date have been asked to barter or pay their way, and on my watch none will.” He lifted his chin as he extended his hand to Aaron and I felt a small pang as Aaron released my hand. The men shook hands.

“Aaron Stanley,” Aaron said, and the other man nodded his welcome.

“Jonas Smith,” he said. He turned to me. “And this is?”

“Pearl,” I said, as he shook my hand in greeting and smiled warmly at me.

“My wife is back at our wagon, cooking breakfast,” Jonas said. “We’ve very few women along with us, and she’ll be mighty glad for some female company.”

I smiled at him, grateful he was far more pleasant than his companion. Matthew and Samuel had joined us and they all shook hands in greeting. As the two men stepped to the side, Jonas showed Aaron where he could lead our wagon, and after meeting the others in the train—a small number, a mere half a dozen wagons in all—Jonas announced to the group that we would begin our journey in thirty minutes’ time. He turned to Aaron.

“My sources confirm we’re two days’ travel from Fort Hall,” Jonas explained. “A group of miners passed here the evening before, having traveled several times along the trail, joining with prospectors and they carried with them the most updated trail guide.”

Aaron nodded, his eyes softening as he turned to me.

“Fort Hall is where my mother, brother, and sister-in-law wait for us,” he said, and I smiled back. I was eager to meet his family, and eager for our journey to end. Two days!

Jonas continued speaking to Aaron. “As head of the house, you’ll be filing for a homestead, I presume?” he asked. Aaron nodded as Jonas continued.

“Many in our caravan are single men, prepared to settle, some barely meeting the minimum age.” His eyes traveled to mine. “As there aren’t many women here, it’s good you two are a couple. The men here are itching for a companion, and we’ve got a ramshackle crew. I can’t say there are too many I’d want my own sister married to.”

I felt a twinge of panic. How safe would I be? I wasn’t Aaron’s wife, and I wondered when and if that would come to light. Aaron had shared very little of his plans for me, and all I knew was that he planned to settle in a homestead nearby his mother and brothers. The law stated heads of house needed to be twenty-one years of age, and able to work the land for a solid five years. In so doing, they would ensure the land was theirs for free.

Would I live with Aaron’s mother?

Would Aaron live with us?

Many of the local girls where I’d come from were married by sixteen, and by all accounts I’d surpassed that age. Was I destined to be a spinster, dependent on the generosity of others my whole life? My heart sank as I thought of what lay ahead of me. Aaron was an honest, upright man, with scrupulous virtues. He would not feign marriage for longer than necessary. If what Jonas said was true, there would be many bachelors looking to marry, but did I want to be wedded to a member of the ‘ramshackle’ crew Jonas spoke of? If I married—and I
had
to—I’d have to leave the small family I’d already joined. My heart sank further as we joined the other members of the party.

Chapter Four: Wagon Train

Our journey was a bit different this time as we followed behind the train of wagons ahead of us. I had more to observe than I did before. Though I still had more than ample time to observe the woodland delights around us, the trail began to differ. We had joined a well-worn path, and strewn along the sides of the trail were various items abandoned by travelers who’d gone before us. This baffled me, and I asked Aaron about them.

“Some of the travelers are wealthy,” he explained. “And the wealthier folk in search of rich lands have brought many unnecessary items with them. Others had to lighten their load with inclement weather, and the like.”

The items left along the trail were in a variety of different conditions… broken tools and wheels, but occasionally there was something of value, and those ahead would rifle through and take what was left behind. I watched as a party several wagons ahead hooted and hollered, and Matthew, running ahead to the other wagons, later told us they’d found an entire barrel of bacon, and another a cast-iron cook stove, a true luxury when most new settlers would be forced to cook over an open flame. I wondered that these items hadn’t been taken earlier, but Aaron explained that many had a far longer journey than we did, and the girth or heft of such items would make for a longer journey.

It was a marvel to see children again, running ahead with their peers, and to hear the laughter and chatter of the people around us. It was unusual for a woman to be sitting atop the seat like me; often the men would drive the team and the women would walk beside the caravan, as it was often more comfortable to walk than be jostled along on the heaving, rickety wagon seats. Aaron was not romantic toward me. He was not even much of a talker. But he had a presence about him that made me feel peaceful inside, and I was loath to be separated from him.

“We’re almost there, Pearl!” Matthew chirped by my side. “When we stop tonight, maybe we can take a dip in the water?” My jaw dropped open, shocked that Matthew would be so audacious. Was he completely unaware of what had transpired earlier? Surely, he’d seen my sodden clothing from the day before. I smiled at him, prepared to decline the offer, when Aaron spoke up.

“I’ll not allow Pearl to swim tonight, Matthew,” he said firmly. Matthew’s face fell, but to my surprise, Aaron seemed to actually make an attempt to cheer him up.