Authors: The Searching Hearts
Dorothy Garlock (8 page)
Tucker heard the orders and moved over so Laura was sitting on the outside of the seat.
“I’ll be all right, Tucker. I’ll be all right here with you.”
“Do as Mr. Steele says,” Tucker said, and she hardly glanced at the man who rode the big bay horse up beside the wagon. Arms reached out to take Laura while she was still trying to reassure Tucker.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be all right. You be careful and hold on. I’m afraid for you, Tucky.”
“Oh . . . go on with you! I’ll handle the whip for Lottie. Gee-haw!” she shouted, and the whip cracked over the backs of the straining team.
Trusting, as always, Laura relaxed in the arms of the man who settled her on his lap. Her own arm
went around his waist. She had never felt so wildly excited in her life. She was flushed with elation. The trip had surpassed all her cheerful expectations. And now this! She was riding on a horse with a strong, silent man who held her as if she were some fragile thing that would fall apart if she received the slightest jar. She turned her face up to his and could tell he was looking at her. His breath was warm on her face. It smelled clean and slightly minty, as if he had been chewing mint leaves. There was something loud and determined thumping between them. Was it his heart? Of course it was. The exertion of lifting her and seating her across his lap would cause even a strong man’s heart to pump faster.
went around his waist. She had never felt so wildly excited in her life. She was flushed with elation. The trip had surpassed all her cheerful expectations. And now this! She was riding on a horse with a strong, silent man who held her as if she were some fragile thing that would fall apart if she received the slightest jar. She turned her face up to his and could tell he was looking at her. His breath was warm on her face. It smelled clean and slightly minty, as if he had been chewing mint leaves. There was something loud and determined thumping between them. Was it his heart? Of course it was. The exertion of lifting her and seating her across his lap would cause even a strong man’s heart to pump faster.
“Please tell me what’s happening.” It was at times like this, more than any other, that she wished she could see. The man didn’t say anything, so she said, “What’s your name?”
He waited so long to speak she began to think he wasn’t going to, and then he said, “Buck.”
“Buck Garrett, the scout?” Laura’s smile was enormous. “Lottie told us about you.” A groan of pain almost escaped his lips. “She said we had a better chance of getting to California with you and Mr. Steele than we would have with anyone else.” She waited, but not a sound came from him. “Lottie said you didn’t have no quit atall when it came to fighting.”
Here it comes, Buck thought. He didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. But he didn’t want to take his eyes off her face, either. He wanted to record
every little detail so he could remember it and what it felt like to hold her.
every little detail so he could remember it and what it felt like to hold her.
Laura chattered on. “She said you had enough gumption not to fight if there was any other way.”
The relief he felt was almost painful, and he couldn’t think of a word to say.
“Do you want me to hush up, Mr. Garrett? Am I bothering you? Tucker says
I’ve
got no quit atall when it comes to talking.” She giggled like a little girl and brought her hand out from beneath the slicker to wipe the rain from her face. He bent his head over her so the brim of his hat gave her some protection.
I’ve
got no quit atall when it comes to talking.” She giggled like a little girl and brought her hand out from beneath the slicker to wipe the rain from her face. He bent his head over her so the brim of his hat gave her some protection.
“No, don’t stop. I’m . . . just watching the horse.” My God, she was pretty! More than pretty. She was as soft and sparkling as the early morning sun.
“Are we to the creek yet? Will I be too heavy for your horse?”
A chuckle escaped him. “Horse don’t even know you’re on it.”
His voice was low and soft, and she had felt the vibration in his chest when he’d laughed. She wished he would do it again. She also wished she dared place her hand on his face so she could know more about him. He was slender, she knew that much, and the thighs she was sitting on were rock hard. Tilting her head against his shoulder she laughed a soft, trilling sound, and tightened the arm she had put around his waist to support herself. Was it the thrill of this unexpected ride that was causing this feeling of exhilaration? Or was it the feeling of being in the man’s encircling arms as he held the reins? The horse’s
movements brought her into rhythmic contact with his chest. There was no way she could escape his closeness, not that she wanted to.
movements brought her into rhythmic contact with his chest. There was no way she could escape his closeness, not that she wanted to.
The horse was making its way carefully now, and she took her hand from the slicker and grasped his arm.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “You might get splashed a bit, but that’s all.”
“I’m not afraid, Mr. Garrett. I’m not a bit afraid. Oh, I’d like to ride sometime when the horse could run. It would be wonderful to feel the wind hitting my face!” She felt the vibrations again.
“We’ll have to try it sometime.” The words came out so easily, he was hardly aware he’d said them.
The splash of the water kept her silent. She felt the horse slip once on the rocky bottom of the creek, and she tightened her arms around Buck, hugging close, her face resting against him. The arms that enclosed her also tightened, and she felt the heavy pounding of a man’s heart against hers for yet a second time. She leaned against him as the horse climbed the bank. When they were on level ground, she raised her head and could hear the men shouting at the excited mules.
“Hee-yaw . . . ya bastards! Hee-yaw . . . ya goldurned ornery, stubborn jackasses!”
Laura’s pounding heart released a flood of happiness that was reflected in her brilliant smile. Buck feasted his eyes on her face, her cheeks pink with excitement, her tumbled hair as gold as a prairie sunrise. Now that he had moved back from the creek and
stopped the horse, he could look at her, really look at her.
stopped the horse, he could look at her, really look at her.
“Do you think the mules understand those cuss words, Mr. Garrett?”
Her delight in everything astounded him. “They seem to,” he said slowly.
She laughed again, and he thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He liked the feel of this small, trusting girl clinging to him. God! What would it be like if she were his own?
“Have Tucker and Lottie crossed yet?”
“They’re about to.”
“Oh! Tell me about it, Buck,” she said, using the familiar name for the first time.
His name came from her lips so easily. He could only think her name in his thoughts . . . Laura, Laura, Laura. “They’re coming down the bank a slippin’ some, but it don’t make no never mind to Lottie.” He stopped, thinking he had said enough.
“And Tucker? Is she still in the wagon? Is Tucker all right, Buck?”
“She’s all right. She’s standin’ behind the seat a crackin’ the whip.” He laughed. It wasn’t a chuckle this time but a real laugh, the third one in the last ten minutes. That was more than he’d laughed in the last ten months! “She sure can handle that whip.”
Laura grabbed his hand and held onto it. “Yes, she can. She taught me to use it. I can snake it out and make it crack. Are they in the creek yet?”
“Yes. Lucas is alongside. He won’t let nothin’ go wrong.” His hand turned over and clasped the one
lying on his own, and the unexpected grip of her small hand made his heart gallop.
lying on his own, and the unexpected grip of her small hand made his heart gallop.
The wagon rolled up the bank and onto the level trail, and Buck had no choice but to move his horse toward it. Tucker was waiting to guide Laura’s feet to the wheel and her hands to the frame so she could pull herself over onto the seat. The horse stood patiently, and the hands at her waist lifted her. She was laughing as she turned to sit down.
“That was exciting, Buck. I almost hope we have more creeks to cross.”
“Ma’am.” Buck lifted his hand to the brim of his hat and touched his heels to the horse.
“Thank you, Buck,” Laura called.
Tucker watched the scout move away. It was the first time she had seen him up close.
“What does he look like, Tucker?” There was a funny tremor in her voice. “Tell me what he looks like. He’s young, isn’t he?”
“I’d say so. Somewhere below thirty. It’s hard to tell.”
“He was nice,” Laura said. “And . . . shy.”
“You talk enough for two,” Tucker teased.
“I had to drag every word out of him.” There was a gentle smile on her face. “Tell me what he looks like,” she repeated softly.
“I’ve not seen him out of the saddle, but I don’t think he’s real tall. Not as tall as . . . Mr. Steele. He’s got dark hair and . . . there’s no whiskers on his face. His brows are straight and his lashes are thick, so I didn’t see the color of his eyes. His nose is in the
right place. I’d say he’s not the most handsome man I ever saw, but he’s not the ugliest either.”
right place. I’d say he’s not the most handsome man I ever saw, but he’s not the ugliest either.”
“I liked his voice. He has the softest voice I ever heard.”
“Humph!” Lottie snorted. “He’s a breed. Ever’body knows Lone Buck Garrett is a breed.”
The smile left Laura’s face, and she turned toward Lottie. “And . . . what does that mean, Lottie?”
“It means ’is pa or ’is ma was part Injun, that’s what it means.”
“I knew that. It also means his grandma or his grandpa was part Indian. But what’s that got to do with him? I suspect all of us are part something or the other.”
“I ain’t a holdin’ it agin ’im. I was just a tellin’ ya, that’s all.”
“All right. So you’ve told me.”
Tucker looked with surprise at Laura’s tight features. It wasn’t like her to be so belligerent. “Lottie didn’t mean it was anything against Mr. Garrett, Laura. She thought it might help me to describe what he looks like.”
“She could have said he had one feather in his hat instead of two!”
“Laura!”
There was silence among the women for several minutes before Laura said, “I’m sorry, Tucker. He was kind and gentle and . . . I liked him. I don’t care if he’s a little bit Indian or all Indian!” The stubborn look was back on her face.
“Get down off your high horse, Laura. That’s what
you say to me. No one said it wasn’t all right for you to like him.”
you say to me. No one said it wasn’t all right for you to like him.”
The familiar light smile touched Laura’s lips. “I’m sorry, Lottie.”
“What fer? Speakin’ yore mind? Ain’t no call to be sorry for speakin’ yore mind.”
Laura didn’t answer; she hardly heard what Lottie said. She was reliving the time she had spent held close in the man’s arms, the gentle rain wetting her cheeks, and her heart thumping against his.
April 17
Today was the second day of our journey and we traveled in a heavy spring rain. Past noon we crossed Timber Creek and shortly after the drovers reported it was swollen out of it’s banks. I was told to add the name of Cora Lee Watson to the list of women going to California. She joined us last night. I do not know how she came to be on the prairie miles from Fort Worth.
April 19
We have scarcely made ten miles a day for the last two days. Other wagons we passed are bagged down and waiting for the ground to dry. We are wet and cold, but Mr. Steele pushes on. Today we passed an unmarked grave of piled stone.
April 20
More of the same, but this evening the clouds are thinner. We passed a sod house. A
woman and children came out to wave at us. They looked so lonely standing there.
woman and children came out to wave at us. They looked so lonely standing there.
April 21
Sunshine today. Even the mules had more spirit. The prairie is covered with small blue flowers that resemble bells. Among them, in patches of orange and red, is another type of flower. Everything looks fresh and clean, but the ground is still soggy underfoot. I don’t know where we are, but we are coming into hilly country. Mr. Steele has not brought the map he promised.
* * *
Tucker made the entry in the journal, closed the book, and put it away. She wasn’t exactly pleased with what she had written, but without the map she could record only her observations. It had been a frustrating few days since Lucas had walked her back to the wagon and left her with his kiss burning on her lips. She had gone to bed filled with wonder that he had singled her out of all the women on the train and as much as declared his love for her. It all seemed to have happened so fast! She hadn’t spoken to him since that night, but she had seen him.
Nervous and excited, she had waited the next morning for him to come riding down the line. She had searched his face, her eyes bright with her secret happiness, and his had slid over her as if nothing had passed between them. She had sat stock-still, tears biting at her eyelids, her stomach churning. His
rebuff was the most painful experience of her life. Now, after several days had passed, all that was left was embarrassment. She had been foolish and gullible. She tried not to think about it, but when she did it was as if it were someone else he had held in his arms that night. Now pride forced her to return his gaze coolly when they met.
rebuff was the most painful experience of her life. Now, after several days had passed, all that was left was embarrassment. She had been foolish and gullible. She tried not to think about it, but when she did it was as if it were someone else he had held in his arms that night. Now pride forced her to return his gaze coolly when they met.
As if materializing from her thoughts, Lucas was striding toward her as she came out of the wagon. Every evening he and Mustang came walking by, checking the ironbound wheels. She usually managed to be away from the wagon or in it when the inspection was made. Tonight Lucas knelt down as he came to each wheel and looked with care at the metal strip that bound the wood circle together. Mustang commented on each; being a wagoner and a blacksmith by trade, he was performing one of the tasks assigned to him.
After nodding a cool greeting, Tucker moved toward the small campfire Lottie had built. Several such fires blazed in front of the wagons where the women rested before going to bed. Despite her cordial nature, Tucker was no nearer becoming friends with any of them than she was the day she arrived. There was not the camaraderie among them she had expected. Each woman kept to her own small circle with her own thoughts to occupy her.
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