Authors: The Searching Hearts
Dorothy Garlock (26 page)
“Go on back, Cora Lee,” Lucas was saying. “I’ll come by your wagon in the morning.”
Lucas’s words reached Tucker, and she knew the only thing she could do now was to save her pride. Silently she spun around and retraced her steps. She walked past Mustang with her head held high.
“Did ya find him, Tucker?”
“No. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Good night, Mustang.”
Tucker reached her wagon and leaned weakly against the frame. Somehow she knew Cora Lee was walking down the line toward her, and that she knew Tucker had seen her and Lucas. Not for anything was she going to get into the wagon and let the woman think she was afraid to face her.
“Evenin’,” Cora Lee sang out. She stopped and, slowly, like a cat stretching, she lifted her arms above her head. “Ahhhhh,” she sighed, “there’s nothin’ like visitin’ with a man to relax you before goin’ to bed.” She swayed suggestively. “You don’t mind, do you? It ain’t like you two was goin’ to get married or anythin’.”
Tucker tried desperately to come up with a suitable reply while thinking, how will I ever live down the humiliation?
“Mind? I should say not! I’m not wanting a big belly when I get to California. I’m going to get a rich landowner and play queen over the peasants,” she flung back.
For a moment Cora Lee was taken aback. “You mean you don’t care?”
“Care? Why should I care? Lucas is someone to amuse myself with while we’re on the trail, but I want more than a trail boss when I get ready to settle down,” she plunged on blindly.
“Then there’s no reason to be wasting your time with me.” His voice came with the suddenness of a gunshot from beside her.
Tucker had been so engrossed in her effort to keep Cora Lee from knowing her heart was breaking that she hadn’t heard him approach. Her nerves already strung taut from the incident with Parcher, and her composure nearly shattered by her discovery of Lucas and Cora Lee together in the darkness, Tucker now experienced an inner explosion that left her helpless and numb in the face of this final assault on her emotions. Strangely, like a sudden and unexpected death, the break was made without her feeling in the least involved in it.
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a waste,” she managed to say. Oh, God, she thought. How can I sound so calm? My life is over!
“Well, I would,” he said softy into the quiet night. There followed a silence filled with anguish. It was broken by Lucas’s terse words, “Come on, Cora Lee, I’ll walk you to your wagon.”
“Sure, Lucas. Do you have more guard duty tonight?”
“Not until early morning.” He took Cora Lee’s arm, just above the turquoise bracelet, and they walked away.
“’Night, Tucker,” Cora Lee called over her shoulder.
Tucker stood dumbstruck, too shattered by what had just happened to be able to do anything about it. Then she quickly pushed herself away from the wagon and, lifting her chin, drew her breath in sharply and deeply in a struggle to regain control of herself. From far off, softly at first, but with a sound
that swelled on the slight breeze, came the howl of a coyote. Carried on the night air, it was a sound of desperate loneliness that echoed in her own heart. She climbed into the wagon, lay down on the pallet, and rested her head on one arm, letting the other cover her eyes.
that swelled on the slight breeze, came the howl of a coyote. Carried on the night air, it was a sound of desperate loneliness that echoed in her own heart. She climbed into the wagon, lay down on the pallet, and rested her head on one arm, letting the other cover her eyes.
“Oh, Lucas,” she whispered softly into the quiet. “How can it end this way? And why can’t I stop loving you?”
Although she would have denied it a few weeks ago, Tucker realized now that she hadn’t really been convinced Lucas had fallen in love with her. It had all happened too fast . . . been too easy. If she knew one thing, it was that nothing in life came easy. The problem was with her; she had believed what she’d wanted to believe. And it had been wrong. All wrong. She had given him her virginity, and yet she knew nothing about him except what he had told her himself. She had believed him because there was something big and strong and sure about him. She had the feeling there was nothing anywhere that could frighten or disturb him. He was a man who knew his strength and her weaknesses and had used them to lull her into believing that he loved her.
Even Frank Parcher is more honest, she thought to herself. He is what he is. He wanted her and had told her he would kill to get her. She couldn’t expect any help from Lucas now. Now it was strictly between her and Frank. She was going to have to kill him, she thought with renewed resolve.
Trying to keep at bay the pain in her heart that she
knew could cripple her, Tucker began to plan from that moment on. The thing to do was to remain quiet, yet to calculate and make preparations. Tomorrow she would search Lottie’s trunk for a gun or a knife, and she would conceal it on her person. If she failed to find one, she would steal one from the chuck wagon. Once this decision was made, her mind began to click. She would play along and let Frank think she was going with him, but hold out until every other chance was gone before she left the security of the train. She knew that what she would do then would have to depend upon the events of the moment. But the very fact that she had a plan at all gave her a feeling of strength. She only wished it would fill the hollowness she felt inside her.
knew could cripple her, Tucker began to plan from that moment on. The thing to do was to remain quiet, yet to calculate and make preparations. Tomorrow she would search Lottie’s trunk for a gun or a knife, and she would conceal it on her person. If she failed to find one, she would steal one from the chuck wagon. Once this decision was made, her mind began to click. She would play along and let Frank think she was going with him, but hold out until every other chance was gone before she left the security of the train. She knew that what she would do then would have to depend upon the events of the moment. But the very fact that she had a plan at all gave her a feeling of strength. She only wished it would fill the hollowness she felt inside her.
She heard the soft murmur of voices at the end of the wagon and knew Laura had returned. Presently the flap lifted and Laura stepped in, moving with sure steps around Tucker’s pallet to her own. She removed her britches, slipped out of her shirt, and lay down. Tucker watched her in the soft light of the moon that had come up over the front of the wagon where the canvas was folded back to allow the breeze to circulate.
“Are you asleep, Tucky?” Laura whispered in case she was.
Tucker almost didn’t answer. “No, but just about,” she finally said.
“I felt bad about leaving you alone tonight. I wish you could have been with Lucas. Maybe tomorrow night he’ll come and walk out with you.”
“I don’t think I want him to, Laura.” The words were out, and Tucker knew she should be glad she had been able to say them. Didn’t she want her affair with Lucas to be behind her, now that it was over?
“What do you mean?” Laura raised herself up and leaned on a bent elbow. “What do you mean?” she repeated.
“Just what I said. I’d rather not walk out with him. I don’t . . . love him, and I don’t want to encourage him.”
Laura was stunned by this news. She and Tucker had always confided their innermost thoughts to each other. Tucker had told her of the beautiful experience she and Lucas had shared the night they were stranded across the river. She hadn’t gone into intimate details, but had wanted her friend to know that when the time came for her, it would be wonderful, beautiful. They had whispered in the night and had talked for hours while the wagon rolled across the endless prairie about the life they would have in California with Buck and Lucas. And now this. . . . It was as if all the beautiful dreams had suddenly vanished.
“Are you sure?” It seemed to be all Laura could say.
“Sure as sin,” Tucker said in what she hoped was a casual manner. Her wounds were too fresh to speak of them, even with Laura. And she didn’t want to intrude upon Laura’s happiness.
“Well,” Laura said quietly and lay back down, “you should know your own feelings, I guess.” In the silence that followed she asked, “Is that why you’ve
been so edgy lately? You’ve been trying to make up your mind?”
been so edgy lately? You’ve been trying to make up your mind?”
“I didn’t have much trouble making up my mind,” Tucker said firmly. “Make no mistake about that. But I guess I have been edgy trying to think of a way to tell you,” she lied.
“You needn’t have worried that I wouldn’t understand, Tucky. Anything you do will always be all right with me. It’s just that . . . I’m so sorry.” Tears were sliding from her sightless eyes and down beside her nose, dropping onto the arm where she rested her cheek.
Tucker flopped over onto her side. “Oh, well,” she said indifferently. “You know the old saying . . . easy come, easy go. I think when I get to California I’ll find a rich landowner, preferably one who’s old and sick.” She laughed lightly, pleased that it didn’t sound too forced. “We’d better get to sleep. Morning will be here before we know it.” And feigning exhaustion, she lay wide-eyed, dreading the sleepless night that stretched ahead.
The day was unbearably hot, but the wagons were moving toward mountains whose purple shadows seemed to reach toward them with the promise of cool breezes and relief from the relentless sun and ever-present dust. For an hour of lonely riding there had been no life apparent on the desert. Now the inevitable buzzard soared overhead, knowing that sooner or later all things on the desert would die and that he had only to wait for his food.
They followed a tortuous route. This was the mean country Lucas had talked about at the beginning of the trip. It was a baked and brutal land, sunblistered and arid. The trail snaked its way through prickly pear and cat’s-claw, and around them stretched vast rolling plains of sand, rock, and cactus.
The sun ascended, and sweat trickled down Tucker’s neck. The bodies of the mules became dark with moisture. They traveled in silence while the sun grew hotter as it rose higher in the sky. The swaying, bouncing motion of the wagon seemed conducive to
drowsiness, and Laura dozed, her hat pulled over her face.
drowsiness, and Laura dozed, her hat pulled over her face.
Tucker took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair to loosen it from her scalp. She had spent a sleepless night, her mind refusing to let her body rest. This morning while Laura was having breakfast, she had searched Lottie’s trunk and found a two-edged knife with an eight-inch blade and a lightweight handle. It was exactly what she needed. She had strapped it to her thigh with a scarf and cut a hole in the pocket of her trousers so she could reach it easily. She touched it now. It was hot and heavy against her leg, but comforting, too.
They nooned beside a dry draw. The mules were grateful for the rest and stood patiently in their harnesses while Tucker and Laura carried them each a bucket of water. The air was very still, the sky impossibly clear. Tucker walked toward a small mound of rocks and, after a glance around for snakes, sat down and turned her face toward the mountains. She realized with a start that she loved this country. In spite of everything, she was glad she and Laura had signed on to come west. Her homesickness of last night had been a fleeting thing.
Lucas skirted the wagon and rode toward the rocks. His first impulse was to retreat. As disheveled as she was, Tucker was lovely. The sun glinted in her red hair and made it shine against the blue of the sky. She appeared fragile, small, and . . . lonely. Fragile and lonely as a black widow spider, he reminded himself, and rode up to her with unfeigned impatience.
“Put your hat on. Do you want to get sunstroke?”
The clipped words brought her head around to stare into his unshaven face and steady unblinking eyes. His tight lips created hard lines around his mouth. He sat in the saddle in a deceptive slouch, but she knew him well enough to know that every nerve, every muscle, was alert and taut.
Tucker got to her feet, standing well away from the horse. “Of course. I forgot.”
“Wait!” he said as she turned to move away. It seemed as if the word was pulled out of him.
Tucker shook her head slowly. “I’ve nothing to say to you.” She looked at the ground, feeling empty and sick.
“I’ve got something to say to you. You asked me how come I felt I’d known you for a long time. Here’s the reason.” He threw a small bundle to the ground near her feet. “I realize now she was probably just some whore from a brothel in New Orleans—nothing a man could build dreams around. Keep it. You two belong together.” Savagely he glared into her quiet face, his jaw muscles working as he fought to control his anger and hurt.
He whirled his horse, the sand kicked up by its hooves sprinkling the package that lay at her feet. He rode away wishing he had never laid eyes on Tucker Houston. When he was thinking about that damn woman, he wasn’t thinking about getting this train through to California, and he wasn’t thinking about Rafe, who could go mad any day and have to be killed. He wasn’t even thinking about the renegades
following along behind the train. He was sure they were renegades; he couldn’t figure any other reason for four white men, three Mexicans, and a Negro to be together. He cursed himself for a fool and put the spurs to his horse.
following along behind the train. He was sure they were renegades; he couldn’t figure any other reason for four white men, three Mexicans, and a Negro to be together. He cursed himself for a fool and put the spurs to his horse.
Tucker stooped to pick up the bundle wrapped in doeskin. When she straightened up again, her vision blurred and she swayed dizzily. The sun, she thought. I’ve got to get out of the sun. She took the package to the shade of the wagon where Laura sat patiently fanning herself with the brim of her bonnet and holding the end of Blue’s leash while the pup frolicked on the ground.
“Was that Lucas?” They had scarcely exchanged a dozen words all morning.
“Yes. He told me to put on my hat.”
Tucker went to stand at the end of the wagon and quietly folded back the doeskin from the small velvet box. She pushed the small catch and the lid sprang open. The face staring up from the portrait in the box startled her. The woman had her green eyes, her red hair, and was about her same age. She was beautiful and expressive, with a hint of vulnerability; a woman who had the capacity to feel things deeply and to be hurt to the same degree. Did she look like this woman?
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